Chapter Text
Logan had heard about the Pryde group non-stop for the past three weeks he had been on a search for a solution for his problem. If there was anyone who could help her, all the sources he had spoken with had pointed their fingers at the Pryde; go look for them. Go find their leader, also called as Pryde, sometimes as Shadowcat. Go to Old Anchor Town and then a little further into it, all the way to Ditch. From there, you’ll find a yellow stone building, now run down and seen its best days. Request to see Pryde and follow the given instructions.
Logan went through the hasty, badly written notes on his brown piece of paper, frowning as the wind blew sand into his nose and eyes. He was standing on the other side of the said yellow house, judging that this had to be it. Next to the doorframe a big guy leaned against the wall, idling.
Logan had yet to meet a man who would strike fear in him, so he walked without a second thought to the man and stopped right under his nose. The man with a square shaped jaw and short black hair lifted his gaze at Logan. His eyes looked kinder than Logan had expected but he didn’t relax; this man was clearly a mutant. He could smell it.
“I’m here to see Shadowcat,” Logan informed him.
“Why?” the other man asked with a Russian accent. Something Logan hadn’t anticipated to hear in North African coast.
“I have a deal for her. It have some goods for her if she can fulfill my request,” Logan simply replied, crossing his arms and tilting his body so that the man could see his bags around his waist – and hopefully realize that they contained coins and other good this Shadowcat might be interested in.
The Russian man measured Logan slowly from head to toe, stood then up and gestured Logan to follow him further in the building. It was in two floors and smelled like sand, wood smoke and burnt herbs. Inside, there were more mutants; men and women, some children, too. From different races, clearly different parts of the world for sure. They all turned to look at Logan but as they saw him being accompanied by the gigantic Russian, they returned back to their own business. Logan followed the big man from a room to another, until they arrived at a closed door on the other end of the building’s second floor. The Russian man knocked the door twice.
“Who is it?” a female voice asked from the other side.
“Piotr. There’s a man in a leopard’s hide who wants to meet you for business.”
“Let him in,” the same voice replied, and Piotr pushed the door open, allowing Logan to walk in. When he was inside, Piotr simply closed the door and left Logan there like he would have never met Piotr before.
Logan quickly inspected his surroundings to determine just how cautious he needed to be. In the room, there was a wooden desk, an antique looking drawer and s surprisingly massive luxuriously carved wooden canopy bed covered with many colorful pillows. It felt like out of the place in the otherwise simple and modest room. There were hanging plants and big plants in flowerpots, lazily reaching and hanging to every direction they could get their leaves towards to. Dried herbs of multiple different sorts hang on the wall in neat bundles and near them, there was a narrow, circular shaped stove with a teapot on top of it. A classic red Moroccan carpet was laid in the middle of the dark wooden floor. There were two worn soft chairs, a round tea table in between the and some papers piled at a corner on top of a heavy crest. A light barely entered the room through the drapes which had been pulled to shield the room from the hot afternoon sun. The room was small but a lot higher than it looked from the outside. An aroma of sweet incenses filled Logan’s nose.
In front of the drawer a woman in a black skintight worn-down suit with a braided hair adorned with beads was putting fresh herbs together into a firmly bind bundles. She didn’t look at Logan but concentrated on her work.
“What brings you to me?” she asked calmly.
“I have come to ask help from the Pryde for my wife,” Logan replied as nicely as he could, keeping his polite distance to the woman.
Her head perked up. Slowly she turned to face Logan and like he had expected from her voice and figure, she was younger than he had anticipated for a famous group leader. In her mid-twenties max, he guessed. She placed the half-bind buddle down on the drawer’s surface.
“And how can Prydes help you with your wife?” she asked, signing Logan to follow her. She went across the softly creaking floor and took one of the soft chairs, but Logan didn’t trust her just yet. He decided to stand in front of her, still keeping his distance. She clearly didn’t mind Logan’s decision; just crossed her legs and leaned against her palm on the arm rest, looking at Logan with curiosity.
“My wife Mariko got sick and I need to fetch medicine for her from Bustani. It’s the last place where the medicine exists for what I know,” Logan told, crossing his arms. “Of course, I’ll pay.”
“Hmm, a trip to Bustani is a dangerous one for a one man, a mutant or not,” she said softly, staring at Logan knowingly. “I’m not sure if I want to risk my men and women for such a long trip if I don’t hear what you have to offer, Mister Stranger.”
“Logan”, Logan added quickly. His eyes suddenly caught something in the dim room, falling down from the ceiling next to Pryde’s head. His initial thought was a snake based on its shape and movement, and in an instant, he pushed out his claws ready to fight it. But, the second glance revealed a triangle shape – almost like a poisonous snake’s head – and an odd blue color. His eyes traveled along the thing and up to a wooden beam above Pryde where a figure with a pair of yellow eyes stared back at him from the darkness, unblinking.
“Impressive weapons you have, Mr. Logan. Adamantium? That’s super rare nowadays,” the woman spoke calmly. Her hand rose up to the blue tail and she whirled it around her hand and wrist gently. “You can put those away Mr. Logan. This is not a snake but my right-hand man.”
“I—I didn’t…” Logan tried to compose himself, embarrassed and annoyed. The woman watched his embarrassed face with an amusement.
“Everyone always mistakes his tail for a snake. Don’t blame yourself,” she grinned playfully. Logan took another look at the yellow eyes above him. This time the right-hand man blinked slowly.
“Hmmm. I thought I smelled something else underneath all those herbs, incenses and your own natural scent,” he muttered, doing his best not to let his temper get to his head. The woman laughed.
“Oh? You have a good nose, too? That is definitely an asset with those claws and your reaction speed in a trip to Hollow’s. Not to mention you didn’t just slash on and cut off my right-hand man’s poor tail but took another look. Very good, Mr. Logan. I’m interested.” She gestured Logan to sit on the chair next to her. He had to go pass the tail, which somehow creeped him as he couldn’t see the man on the other end of it. The mutant had almost unnatural ability to disappear in the slight shadows of the ceiling. To Logan’s relief, the tail moved away from his way and he heard how the right-hand man walked on the ceiling beam on his fours, until he settled down to sit on the other side of Pryde and dropped his tail for her again. This time she didn’t take it but rubbed it shortly with a mischievous smile directed at Logan.
“Don’t worry about my Nightcrawler, Mr. Logan. He won’t do anything unless I give him an order.”
“Nightcrawler?” Logan repeated his name and tilted his head backwards to see the staring shadow again. “A fitting name.”
“Thanks. I gave it to him myself.”
“So, about my wife and my payment, Miss Pryde” Logan cleared his throat, trying his luck with her name and being relieved when she didn’t react to it in a negative way. “I have money and other assets.”
“Show me,” Pryde leaned closer to Logan and gestured with her hand eagerly. Logan took his pocket belt off and spread pockets’ content on a small round tea table in between them.
“I have 15 cold coins here, 21 copper coins, silver shavings and some salt blocks,” he listed, opening small bags for Pryde to take a look inside. “I have an emergency kit of basic medical supplies which you can have. I don’t need any, I’m a healer type. Hard to kill, too,” he joked.
Pryde was looking at a one cold coin, inspecting it closer in her hand.
“Medical supplies sound awesome,” she said. “Money is slowly losing its power and meaning. It’s hard to buy anything when there’s nothing to be sold, but I won’t say no to your money. You don’t have any alcohol?”
“No, but if that’s the deal breaker, I’ll get it somewhere.”
Pryde’s eyes turned to Logan while her head stayed still. She pursed her lips thoughtfully.
“No, it won’t be. If we find some on the way, we’ll take it with us. Alcohol is such versatile substance. You can sanitize, clean wounds and reward men for their hard work with it. You can help a patient endure pain by getting them so drunk that they sleep after the operation for the next day. You can forget your sorrows for a moment with a sip of some hard stuff. You can buy things with a good bottle. The best currency one can really have these days, isn’t it?”
“Can’t argue that,” Logan replied, unsure if he should have commented something else. The tip of the blue tail next to Pryde’s head sway slowly from side to side, like a cat’s.
Pryde returned the coin back to its leather back, her golden, heavy necklace clinging softly with her movement.
“There’s a one favor I’d like to ask from you, Mr. Logan.”
“Just Logan.”
“Do this favor for me, for Prydes, and I’ll assemble a small team with supplies for you, leading it myself together with my right-hand man. We two are the best you can get. I won’t even need all your coins or salt if you do this favor.”
Logan had no other option than to agree with Pryde’s request if he wished to get help for his journey to Bustani. He listened her briefing, constantly aware of the yellow eyes on him as much as he liked to ignore the unwanted stare and walked then out in the company of Pryde. The right-hand man didn’t follow them.
At the front door of the yellow hideout, Logan turned once more to Pryde. She leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms.
“They won’t be able to link you to us, so this is a big favor,” she told Logan. “I hate when things get dirty like this, but at times like these, you sometimes have to play dirty back. Hit them hard and good when they least expect it. With your multiple handy abilities, this will be nothing but a simple kindergarten trip to you.”
Logan only nodded in an agreement.
“I’ll be back soon,” he promised, earning a small smile from the young group leader.
“I’ll be waiting then.”
When Logan arrived back to the Prydes’ headquarters at dusk, he walked straight to Miss Pryde’s room. Piotr at a weapon table giving a routine maintenance for Prydes’ sword collection in an oil lamp’s light gave Logan a long calm look but didn’t rise up to stop him. Logan knocked at Pryde’s door but after he got no answer for a while, he opened the door quietly.
“Sorry the intrusion. I got what you asked,” he peeked inside, finding the room empty. The setting sun cast its final shadows in the room, together with a few candles. It was quiet. From the bed two eyes stared back at Logan and he recognized the stare.
“Hey, right-hand man. I’m looking for your boss,” Logan said, stepping deeper into the room. This time he was able to see the man partly in the candlelight. The part of his face on the candlelight side was visible, but the shadowy part disappeared into the dimness of the room. He was blue with a dark short hair. Ritual scarring in long lines on his nose and as circles on his cheek were barely visible in the candlelight. He wore a light-colored headband and a simple outfit with V-shaped deep neckline tunic. A beard decoration worn by pharaohs thousands of years earlier stick out from his chin, glistening golden in the candlelight together with his golden stretching earring. His thick tail tapped against the mattress as he was laying on the bed like a big feline on its side, leaning on his elbow.
“So, uh, your boss? Where is she?” Logan tried again but the man didn’t reply. Nor blinked or gestured or emoted in anyway. Just stared at Logan silently.
Logan was confused.
“Okay….” he muttered to himself, looking at the chair where he had sat earlier today. He pointed it out to the right-hand man. “Mind if I sit down?”
Again, the man didn’t react and to Logan it felt like he didn’t even care. It was alarming. If someone didn’t care about a new face it usually meant that they were confident enough to know that they could take the new face, this intruder, down easily. The last thing Logan wanted was to have a fight with this blue man without knowing just how strong he was or what was his mutant ability – but he guessed Nightcrawler had gotten his boss’s Right Hand-title for a good reason. What that reason was, Logan didn’t want to find out, so he walked slowly, very slowly to the chair, eyes locked at the face of the blue mutant. He followed Logan with his eyes but didn’t move.
Logan set a bag from his shoulder down to his feet and took another look at the mutant lolling on the bed casually. Perhaps there was more going on than the right hand-title deal between him and the boss Pryde? He leaned against his thighs and tapped his fingers together.
“So, how’s it going?” Logan tried to joke, easing the tension in the room. There was, unsurprisingly, no reaction from Nightcrawler.
“Can you hear?” he asked, mildly miffed. This time, the right-hand man scoffed through his nose, offended.
The door opened right when Logan was about to share a few words to Nightcrawler about his bratty scoff. Pryde walked in, barefoot and apologizing.
“Piotr said you were back. Sorry, I was outside.” She stopped in the middle of the Moroccan carpet when she noticed Nightcrawler staring at Logan. “Is there something wrong?”
“I tried to chat with your right-hand man, but he doesn’t speak. Is he mute?” Logan replied, ignoring the fact that Pryde had directed her question to Nightcrawler.
“Just half-feral,” Pryde brushed Logan’s question off nonchalantly. “And possibly partly a demon but we don’t know that for sure.”
“Half-feral half-demon?” Logan repeated, surprised. He took another look at Nightcrawler on the bed. I suddenly made sense why he was so calm. Demonic powers were beyond mutant powers and if he was a half-demon like Pryde theorized, he was a worthy opponent even to Logan himself.
Pryde laughed heartily, heading to a big canister.
“Don’t worry. Like I said, he won’t do anything to you unless I tell him to. Half-feral or not, the boss’s word is the law here.”
“And would he decide otherwise?” Logan curiously asked, earning a sharp bark like scoff from Nightcrawler. Pryde turned to her right-hand man.
“I agree, Fuzzy. Quite rude from our guest.”
Logan’s face dropped.
“Fuzzy?”
“He’s got a fur and he’s soft to touch,” Pryde simply shrugged, getting the small tea kettle filled with some water. “You are free to sleep in here. Just go look for Piotr after we have chatted. He’ll show you a place to sleep in.”
Logan decided to ignore the notion that Nightcrawler was so soft to touch that Pryde called him Fuzzy. Neither was he interested in knowing what that all implied about their relationship. Private business better stay private, especially to outsiders. He didn’t miss that Pryde hadn’t answered to his question, but Logan decided to keep his mouth shut.
“It will take a few days to gather everything we need and do some intel before we can leave. I apologize the delay of your plans like this, but this all is essential,” Pryde continued when Logan remained quiet.
“It’s fine”, he lied.
“Know that everyone in the Prydes works. I will get you something to do. Extra pair of hands and muscles are always welcomed,” she said, turning the small gas stove on.
“I’m glad to help.” That was not a lie.
When the tea was done and poured into small Moroccan glasses, Pryde gestured Nightcrawler to come to get his tea. He got up from the bed and for Logan’s surprise, made his way to Pryde on his four in a quick, swift motion.
“He… He really is half-feral…” Logan muttered under his breath. Pryde heard it.
“That’s what I said.”
“How you have gotten a half-feral half-demon as your right-hand man?”
Pryde offered tea glass for Nightcrawler, who took it and sat down at her feet with legs pulled up, back turned to Pryde.
“It’s a long story,” she said, and Logan got the hint.
“So, now when we all have gotten our teas, let me see what you got, Logan.”
Logan opened the backpack he had had with him and pulled out different items.
“This is great!” Pryde’s eyes were glimmering brighter and brighter the more stuff appeared on the floor and on the tiny tea table from Logan’s bag. “I take that your raid went well?”
“No issues.”
“You’ve been such a great help to get our stolen goods back. Now they’ll just think it was some random dude and not one of Prydes. Actually, that’s what happened. You’re not part of my gang.”
“Good for you,” Logan smirked, handing Pryde a bottle of vodka from the bottom of the bag. “And the booze, like wished for.”
Pryde’s eyes widened and then, a gigantic smirk spread on her lips.
“Logan, that is…! Oh, just what we needed!” she gasped clasping her hands together in delight.
Nightcrawler at her feet finished his tea, stretched and curled then to sleep on the floor like a house pet. Logan nodded at his direction.
“He doesn’t seem to appreciate booze the same was as you,” he grinned.
“He’s a rather mellow guy,” Pryde replied, patting his head softly with an open palm and his tail reacted to the pat from his boss. “But I assure you; when he means business, he really means that. Though I hope our trip to Bustani’s will be uneventful, even downright boring, and Nightcrawler will have no need to demonstrate why he exactly has gotten his position right next to me.”
“That sounds like a good travel plan,” Logan kept grinning. Pryde turned to face him with a smile and reached her hand to him.
“Thank you for your help, Logan. You have all my Prydes at your disposal. I will let everyone know that you must be treated like one of us. Respect everyone in return and we’ll have no issues with you.”
“Gotcha,” Logan shook her hand firmly.
They discussed slightly about the upcoming plan before it was time to head to bed. Pryde promised that they’d go together the best plan for the travel tomorrow and reminded Logan to go to seek Piotr for a sleeping spot. When her room’s door shut behind Logan, Pryde turned around and walked back to her chair, picking up the tea glasses from the floor. Nightcrawler’s head rose slowly up to see what Pryde was up to.
“I’m going to bed,” she said, heading to her bed and picked up a worn gigantic shirt from it. “This is all wrinkled! Have you slept on this?”
Nightcrawler didn’t say anything. Just got up and walked in hunched position to look the shirt closer. He sniffed it and Pryde took it up to her nose, too.
“Yeah. Smells like you,” she mumbled, tossing the shirt back on the bed. “Can you blow the candles?”
He did as she had asked for, while Pryde squirmed herself out from her skin-tight black suit and pulled the white shirt reached her mid-thighs over her in the dark room. She pulled hand decorated cover off from the mattress and climbed on the bed among the pillows in the darkness. As she had settled herself in, she felt Nightcrawler crawling on the bed too.
“Come here,” she asked patting the wide bed next to her. He made his way from the bottom of the bed up to her side and laid down pushing his hands under his head. He looked at Pryde keenly.
“What do you think about our new friend?” she asked. Nightcrawler grunted.
“Strong.”
“Yeah. I got the impression, too. Means we don’t have to take many Prydes with us as he’s capable of defending himself. It’s good. The less people traveling, the less supplies we need and the less attention we draw into us.”
“Night bad,” Nightcrawler mumbled. “Sleep inside.”
“Hmm, two tents? Or the big army tent for ten we have got?” Pryde muttered thoughtfully, rubbing her upper lip with her index finger. Her companion didn’t reply anything.
“Salz”, Nightcrawler said in German after a short quietness. Pryde’s eyes widened.
“You are right! We need to take salt with us! I have to check the situation of our salt stock.”
“Nightcrawler go and see,” he offered, getting a small heartful smile back from his boss.
“I’ll leave that for you then. If you think there’s not enough, go fetch some for us, okay?”
He nodded.