Mister Logan's a scarier guy than you would figure if you weren't listening to this.
When you first see him, you take a look and you think that this is a guy that's probably seen some serious crap in his life. He must be one bad mofo. But then you trick yourself into thinking that he couldn't possibly be as tough as he looks. Most people do that when they see a person like that. We've seen too many pieces of media where the scary-looking guy is a real teddy bear, instead of the dangerous dude they seem to be.
This is not the case with Mister Logan. There is no question that this is a dangerous man, and not just because of the claws, and the adamantium skeleton, and the healing factor.
He only had to tell me one story to get the point across about how much trouble likely came with him. The story behind the reason we went to San Francisco to begin with. It all started with a little secret program called Weapon X, a program to force superpowers. And it only got weirder and more uncomfortable from there.
"So you have a chick clone?" I asked under my breath as we sat on a cable car in town. One would have figured that this would be more common knowledge than it was. However, that all depended on him telling much of anyone at all. I could see how someone would want that kept close to the vest. It took a long time for him to actually explain it to me, "Those crazy fuckers cloned you? How'd that work out?"
"Well enough, apparently," Logan grumbled, making sure no one was overhearing us, "Look, when you meet her, she might be a little... off. The place that made her did a real number on her."
At least I got a warning long before we ever even got close to her, "By 'off', do you mean she'll try to murder me?"
"No. Maybe," He wasn't sure about the answer, which didn't do a lot to inspire confidence, "I'd keep from making any sudden moves depending on how close to her you are. Kid spooks like a deer."
Right. A deer. A deer, presumably, with claws.
I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that this was going to suck. But I quickly shut it down. Nothing was written in stone. If I didn't give Wolverine's clone a reason to try and take my head off, she wouldn't do it. Simple as that... hopefully.
Mister Logan wasn't much for talking on a good day, which made for a boring ride until I started pressing him with more questions that came to mind, "Why are we coming to get her?" I asked, getting a growl out of him. More questions was not the ideal way to spend his day, apparently, "If you know where she is and all that, why don't you just ask her to come?"
"She was there until a little while ago, and she was never particularly hot on the idea," Logan said, jostling in place in his seat, looking all kinds of irritable, "Dumb kid thinks she's got a better chance of goin' it alone, or something. Either that, or she doesn't want anybody else involved, which is just as stupid to me. Nobody fights people like the ones after her all alone."
But... he was the one that let her go, wasn't he? "So she left and you just... let her?" Maybe it was just giving her time to find herself, or something. I didn't know.
"I ain't her dad."
Well, there went that theory. But it sounded like he had just as much of an idea of what he was supposed to do with his clone as I did, which was nothing.
Still though, my mouth was faster than my brain, so before I had finished my latest thought, the end results of the last had already come out of my mouth, "You're out here on the other side of the country looking for her. So that means you're her 'something'," Luckily, by the time Mister Logan turned a nasty look my way, I had reentered the present time frame, "I'll just stop talking now."
"Good."
Maybe it wasn't that I was specifically bad with first impressions? Maybe it was the content of my words that made others dislike me? Maybe people would like me more if I just talked significantly less? It was worth a thought.