Chapter Text
Logan let out a quiet sigh as he adjusted his glasses, his eyes adjusting to the light outside of the walls. He slipped out of the hole in the wall, and looked around slowly, listening intently.
He had recently moved into a new building, and with that, he had to take more precautions- learning his host's schedule and habits, clearing out the walls of anything that could attract rodents, and establishing efficient routes into and out of the apartment.
It was difficult work, and in between his tasks, he tended to watch his new host from various perches he'd set up- and he'd noticed something strange.
His human host was covered in drawings! Odd, brightly colored pictures that covered his arms, shoulders, legs, and even his chest!
And, of course, Logan was irrevocably curious. What were they? Could Logan give himself similar markings? Did they have a purpose? Was the skin there different in any other way? Was there a cultural significance to them? Did it aid the human in attracting a spouse?
And those questions lead him here, to the human’s desk.
He estimated that his host would still be gone for a few more hours, so he had plenty of time to test his first hypothesis...
Logan tossed his hook, secured it in place, and started to climb up the thread. He wished that he had some way to write down his findings, but he supposed that simply committing them to memory wouldn't be impossible. He heaved himself up onto the desk and made his way over to the cup of pens, immediately moving to tug one out to examine it.
He frowned, yanking it out of the cup and onto the wooden surface of the desk. Before he could figure out the mechanism to get the ink out, there was a sound at the front door.
Why was the human already back?!
He paled, swearing softly as he quickly ran to hide behind the cup. He wasn't a second too soon, either, as the human's voice drifted into the bedroom- shortly followed by the human, himself.
“-thanks for taking my shift, man, you didn’t have to… Yeah, yeah, alright, I’ll see ya tomorrow. Bye.” Virgil said, hanging up the phone as he walked into his bedroom. As he looked up, he noticed something hanging from his desk, and frowned.
“Wha-” he reached out, plucking the little hook and string from its position on the desk. “What the hell...?”
And then he noticed the pen, outside of the pen cup.
He blinked, a frown on his face as he picked up the pen. It seemed fine, upon closer examination, and he picked up the cup to put it back- only to drop it onto the desk with a loud clatter.
Staring up at him, seeming just as shocked as he was, was a tiny person.
“Woah!” Virgil jumped back, dropping the little hook and string to the floor. Most of the pens rolled off the desk and softly thudded onto the carpeted floor below, though he paid them little mind. “Holy shit- what the fuck?!”
Logan drew the pin from his side and held it tightly, even as his hands shook tremored. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he found himself staring into the eyes of the human, and he swallowed.
He needed to run, but his knees shook and locked him in place. The opportunity for flight had come and gone, but now, fight was his only option.
He would lose.
The human reached out his hand, and narrowly dodged Logan's sharp jab of the needle. “Hey, cool it with the pin! C'mere, I just wanna get a good look at you…”
The human’s fingers came around his side and deftly pinched the back of his shirt, yanking him off of the table. He let out a choked yelp as he was brought to eye-level with the human, who smiled as he examined Logan. The borrower's legs flailed uselessly, and he mourned the loss of solid ground.
“This is so cool…” Virgil breathed as he brought up a hand to poke at the man, pausing as the pin was jabbed in his direction again. “Heh, a pin as a sword, that’s cute.”
“I assure you,” Logan snapped, panic gripping him as he hung in the air, “it is anything but. If you do not put me down within the next three seconds, I will stab you in the thumb.”
Virgil raised a brow in amusement, but obliged, setting the small man onto the desk gently. He pulled out the desk chair and sat down, looming over the small man with an intimidating air.
“So,” he began, setting tattooed arms down on either side of the man’s trembling form, “what brings you to my desk?”
Logan took a few steps back, unsettled by the weight of the man’s eyes. His knuckles were white as he tightly gripped the pin, and he abruptly realized that his hands were shaking. He stayed silent, his words caught in his throat.
Virgil gave a noncommittal hum at his noncompliance, raising a hand to lightly nudge Logan’s side, sending him stumbling to the side with a sharp gasp. Suddenly the borrower was very aware of the fact that the man was getting impatient.
He turned wide eyes to the human, shaking involuntarily. “I- I was just… I wondered what the pictures, the ones on your- your arms, are.”
“What, my tattoos?” The punk frowned, leaning back in surprise. “You didn’t know what they were?”
“Actually, I was, um, attempting to test a hypothesis,” Logan clarified slowly, avoiding the human’s gaze. He was feeling braver though, with the human no longer looming over him. “It- it is ink, correct?”
Virgil’s eyes flickered between the scattered pens on the desk and the tiny man. “Oh, uh… yeah, but they’re not the same kind of ink. Like, pen ink isn’t safe to have under your skin like tattoo ink is.”
Logan recoiled with wide eyes. “Under your skin?!”
He was fascinated by the idea, though thoroughly repulsed. How did the humans get it under there? And was a similar procedure utilized for the pieces of metal that seemed to be pinned through the human’s ears and lips? And what was the purpose of such attachments?
The human laughed, vibrating the table and almost sending Logan sprawling. “Yeah, under my skin. I can show you how it works, if you want.”
“…what do you mean?” Logan asked, taken aback. Did the human want to demonstrate it on him? He didn’t like the sound of needles under his, comparatively much thinner, skin.
“Uh, if I go grab something… Nah, you can just come with.” Virgil shrugged, reaching out to grab Logan again.
“No, please!” Logan yelped, ducking away from the offending limb. He covered his head with his arms, trying to shield himself, only to be left alone. There was no crushing grip, no pinching at the back of his shirt, nothing. His eyes were watery at the feeling of phantom hands on his body, and he shivered.
He looked up hesitantly, only to find that the human looked taken aback. Virgil spoke quickly, “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. No more touching, sorry about that."
As he caught his breath, trying to calm his racing heartbeat, he wondered why the man had stopped. Humans weren’t supposed to apologize- hell, they weren’t supposed to even listen to someone Logan’s size, and yet this one had. He didn’t know what to think.
“It- it is redeemable, provided that you don’t do something like that again,” He stuttered, straightening up and giving the man a wary look. It was worth a shot… “Look, I hope you’ll pardon my rudeness, but I really should be going. Business to attend to and whatnot.”
“Business?” Virgil asked slowly, raising a brow. “Okay, now I’m curious- you’re like, what, four inches tall? What kind of business could you possibly have?”
“I... do not recall inviting you to ask, actually," Logan said warily, giving Virgil a stern look. "That was rather rude, actually."
“Hey, come on,” he held up his hands in surrender, eliciting a flinch again, “I’m just trying to be friendly, here. I can still you how they work, if you want. Consider it an apology.”
Now that caught Logan’s attention. If he wanted? Could he say no?
He opened his mouth hesitantly, apprehension dawning on his features, “I think I’d like to leave, actually.”
The human didn’t seem surprised by Logan’s bluntness. He nodded, pushing the chair back from the desk slowly before leaning over to pick up the hook and string from the floor. “Yeah,” he grunted as he deposited the tool near the borrower, “can’t say I blame you there. Sorry for all that, I’m a bit of an asshole, sometimes- it won't happen again.”
Logan stared up at him with open surprise, blinking in shock. He cleared his throat uncertainly, “You- you’re actually letting me leave?”
“Yeah, it was shitty of me to keep you here like that, so... sorry. Shouldn't have scared you like that, that's my bad," Virgil said, shrugging. The borrower noted that the human wasn't making much eye contact- he really was ashamed...
“Thank you…” Logan said, crouching to pick up his rope and hook. The human wasn’t perfect, but there was something to be said for him- somewhere between the apologies and seemingly begrudging kindness. “I'm Logan.”
The human’s eyes widened, flickering to the bespectacled little face. “Virgil,” he introduced himself after a beat, giving him a small nod.
“I don’t suppose,” Logan shifted nervously, hesitant to ask, “that could I see one of your tattoos closer? I still have some questions, if you are still amenable to showing me more.”
After a moment of deliberation, Virgil set his arm on the desktop, far enough from Logan to give the man some breathing room. “Like this?”
Logan nodded and approached the giant limb, cautiously optimistic. “Don’t move.”
And with that, he was standing in front of a massive, colorful gallery of ink and skin, mouth open in awe. He took a step forward, extending a hand to lightly trace the designs, finding the skin to be raised there by an almost undetectable margin. It certainly wouldn’t be discernible to the human, at least.
“If you think that’s cool, you should see some of the guys I work with,” Virgil chuckled lowly, rattling Logan to the core and giving him significantly more questions.
“How exactly are they made? Did you make them? Do they fade over time? And what purpose do they serve?” Logan eagerly rattled off questions as he examined the skin, walking up and down the length of the human’s forearm. He wondered if Virgil would be able to make a timeline of events for each one, and if perhaps there was a correlation between that and the actual characteristics of the tattoo.
Virgil fully laughed at that, regarding the tiny man with a grin. “Slow down,” he advised, keeping his arm decidedly still, “we have time. You make a tattoo using a special kind of ink, but to get it under the skin, you can use a lot of different methods. I made most of these, but the ones on my shoulders were made by my coworkers or from another parlor. They fade, but you can slow it down if you take care of it. And… I dunno, some of them have meaning, some of them just look cool.”
Logan nodded at the information, wishing he had some paper and a pencil to record the information. “A shame that I’ll have to move,” he remarked quietly to himself as he felt along the delicate ridges in the ink, “because this is truly fascinating.”
“You have to move?” Virgil’s voice sounded from behind Logan, reminding him with a jolt that somebody could now hear his mutterings to himself.
He winced, turning to face the man. “Er, yes- it’s just a safety precaution. I assure you that, despite the rough beginning, this could have been much worse.”
“Yeah, I get that, but do you have to leave? I won’t mess with you again, if that’s what you’re worried about.” The human was quick to reassure him, which just made Logan’s task that much more difficult. “Do you live in the building? Erm, you don’t have to answer that, actually.”
This human was seeming stranger and stranger by the minute. Logan hadn’t been grabbed or prodded at again, nor had he been forced to reveal anything about his species or himself. It wasn’t how he’d imagined that an encounter with a human would go.
“In keeping with certain rules,” Logan began slowly, “I have to move when seen by a human. It’s not really up to me.” It was. He didn’t want to admit that.
“Huh… What if I hadn’t ever seen you?”
“If you hadn’t seen me? We wouldn’t be having this conversation and I would not have to move. I fail to see your point, if you are attempting to make one.”
Virgil gave a hum and removed his arm from the desk, prompting Logan to cringe slightly. He didn’t flinch, though he was confused when Virgil raised his hand to cover his eyes.
“What are you doing?” He asked in confusion.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m not looking.”
Logan was dumbfounded. Then, after a moment, he snorted. “I’m not sure that it works that way.”
Virgil uncovered an eye, smirking. “And why not?”
He didn’t have an answer for that. Virgil covered his eyes once again…
When he uncovered them, Logan was gone, vanished without a trace.