[ Gotta admit, the face that slams against the glass startles him a bit. Just not a face he was prepared for. But it's obviously a guy about to drown, and God knows he's been there before (too many times). Besides, what else is he supposed to do? He doesn't think twice about it, doesn't really think at all. He just starts moving, tugging hard on the door.
His claws don't sheer the lock, either. Or break the glass. The hell kind of...?
He taps the glass. Look, he gets it, the water's going up, but it's not exactly filled to the ceiling yet and he needs the man inside to calm the fuck down so he can figure out what's going on. Except the guy doesn't. Logan curses under his breath. The rain somehow pours harder. He leaves, hurrying around back. There's gotta be another way in. Behind the building, the shadows creep along, moving almost on their own. He searches along the brick wall, the pillars. There's no backdoor. It's just a flat wallā€”and a panel.
A slippery oil coats his fingers. His skin tingles. He frowns, ignores the cut on his thumb as he glides his fingers along the edges of the door. Eventually, he gives up and claws it open. At least that works. Inside, bizarre runes stare back at him, glowing.
Christ. What the hell is all this?
He returns to the front. Hope the guy's still okay, andā€“yeah, there he is, at the window. Logan digs a crumpled napkin from out of his pocket. He finds the smallest bit of cover from the rain, just enough so he can scribble on the damp bit of paper without shredding it to bits. The ink bleeds messily. It's probably damn near incomprehensible, but whatever. He slaps the scrawled image to the window: a box with six other squares inside it.
Gonna help him figure out what to do with these or what? ]
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His claws don't sheer the lock, either. Or break the glass. The hell kind of...?
He taps the glass. Look, he gets it, the water's going up, but it's not exactly filled to the ceiling yet and he needs the man inside to calm the fuck down so he can figure out what's going on. Except the guy doesn't. Logan curses under his breath. The rain somehow pours harder. He leaves, hurrying around back. There's gotta be another way in. Behind the building, the shadows creep along, moving almost on their own. He searches along the brick wall, the pillars. There's no backdoor. It's just a flat wallā€”and a panel.
A slippery oil coats his fingers. His skin tingles. He frowns, ignores the cut on his thumb as he glides his fingers along the edges of the door. Eventually, he gives up and claws it open. At least that works. Inside, bizarre runes stare back at him, glowing.
Christ. What the hell is all this?
He returns to the front. Hope the guy's still okay, andā€“yeah, there he is, at the window. Logan digs a crumpled napkin from out of his pocket. He finds the smallest bit of cover from the rain, just enough so he can scribble on the damp bit of paper without shredding it to bits. The ink bleeds messily. It's probably damn near incomprehensible, but whatever. He slaps the scrawled image to the window: a box with six other squares inside it.
Gonna help him figure out what to do with these or what? ]