Re: Quicklog, Marvel: Logan & Steve R
[It didn't make Steve feel better about it either. He'd had a hard enough time being torn from 1945—from what he thought was his death—to 2012, but at least he'd thought it to be unique to him, a tragedy no one else would have to go through. Maybe that was egotistical, but it was true. And he'd hoped, as much as he yearned for people who'd been through similar, someone who would understand—this wasn't what he'd wanted. He'd hoped it was just him, because it was one of the loneliest things you could imagine.
But to find that everyone seemed to be puppets, strings pulled by—not Fate—but some other force, more malicious, well, yeah, no, that made him feel worse actually.
The man's fingers twitched against the frosted glass of his stout, but Logan's question distracted him from noticing. He frowned again. He had no problems with bluntness.] I... Yes? [It was a question, because he didn't know. He did. But he didn't. He didn't remember it, but it felt familiar, like memories of early, early childhood.]