Laura watched the rage build with a morbid curiosity. Was that what she looked like when she was on her way to blowing a fuse? Did she ever really have an in between? She was either apathetic or pissed off most of the time. A build up was rare, but it did happen. She didn't move a fraction when Logan's claws sprang forth and sank into the car. So now they'd have to deal with a damaged Mustang and a stolen Viper once she was gone. She was kind of glad she wouldn't be there to hear the bitching and moaning. "I'm sure. I saw three destroyed during my time there. The last one I killed myself. It was an order from Stryker and I had no choice but to obey it."
Her head nodded slowly in answer to his question. When the spillways flooded and the dam broke, I assumed everything he'd created and stored up as research was destroyed. A couple of years ago I went back, just to check. I couldn't find anything but we both know that doesn't mean shit." She was trying to stay removed as she'd been trained to do. If she could convince herself that this was just a mission report it would be fine. No hope of emotion anywhere involved.
The sarcasm was easily heard, but Laura kept her expression carefully neutral. She'd been called Stryker's favorite before and reacted pretty much the same way. It wasn't exactly something someone would celebrate. "There's not a lot I know about you, but anything you could want to know about what went on there, at least in the past twenty-years. I know a lot. If not all." She didn't know the stuff that was completely on paper or in the computers, but she'd seen a lot, witnessed too much to forget. Whatever Logan wanted to know Laura would gladly give.
Like the night she met Doug, she decided to show rather than tell. She lifted her hands, slim fingers curling into fists. With an all too familiar sound, two claws split the skin between her knuckles on each hand. Then a pop of leather as one claw from each foot broke through her boots. "I can hear rain coming from about ten miles away. Smell food rotting before anyone who even entertain the possibility of it being bad. I can lift just about three times my own weight." Without really pausing to think about it, she used the claws on her right hand to slice through the skin of the underside of her left wrist as she'd done so many times before. The blood didn't even reach the floor before the cuts healed. "Not to mention I seem to have inherited your...unique sense of outlook on life."