Rogue probably wouldn't have minded speaking up either, but she didn't dare to be pushy; from her perspective, she'd already crossed the line of acceptable impudence long ago.
However, she was a teenager, so she couldn't sit in silence for long. She started looking around, searching for a topic of conversation. But, contrary to my predictions, it was Wolverine who cracked first.
"What kind of name is 'Loki'?" he snorted.
"Asgardian," I shrugged. "You can also call me Loft, Lodur… please don't confuse that with 'loafer'… Hvedrung, the Mocker, Charming Bad Boy, Cegorach… ah, no, wrong universe, copyright holders might sue me in the multiversal court. And what about you, oh my eloquent friend?" I changed the subject.
"Logan," the mutant answered after a brief silence. "And you, kid, have serious problems with your head."
"Nobody believes me when I tell the truth, but everybody believes me when I blatantly lie. That's why I was named the God of Lies, even though I didn't do anything special for it, I just told people what they wanted to hear a few times instead of what they definitely wouldn't believe."
Reclining like the aforementioned Roman patrician on my bed and observing my squirming sla, companions, I indulged in a bit of philosophical musing.
"Uhh… O-okay, whatever you say!" Rogue agreed uncertainly. For some reason, I got the feeling she just decided it was safer to agree with dangerous psychos about everything. Just in case.
And once again, a cozy silence reigned, though perhaps not cozy for everyone.
The stowaway's problems didn't end with just a hungry stomach.
After quickly dealing with the meager and, frankly, mediocre treat, and satisfying her information hunger as well, the girl began to rub her arms shivering.
Ten kilometers at fifty miles an hour, with the ambient temperature around minus five degrees… how did she not freeze solid?
Logan noticed the young passenger's distress too. With a suffering sigh, he cranked the heater to the max.
"Here, warm up," he reached out to take her hands and hold them to the vent.
But the passenger flinched sharply and hastened to pull away under the regenerator's surprised gaze.
It looked like the reaction of a girl who had suffered abuse. Then again, a girl like that wouldn't have climbed into a truck with two strange men… well, at least not if she hated the previous experience. But jokes aside, I already remembered why the girl had such reactions.
"I'm not gonna eat you," Wolverine tried to reassure her.
"Don't be offended," Rogue murmured, embarrassed. "It's just… it's about my abilities. Every time I touch someone, something… happens."
"What happens?" Logan didn't understand.
"I… don't know… but they get hurt…"
"I see…" Wolverine maintained a stony impassivity. I was starting to develop a sporting interest: was there anything that could rattle him? Well, aside from a direct hit by an anti-tank shell, obviously.
"Sounds like a parasitic type mutation," I decided to explain her situation to her. "There's a guy in Mexico who needs to drain energy from other people regularly, or he'll kick the bucket himself… Though if he sucks on a mutant, his body morphs into something like a pterodactyl with delusions of grandeur. It's like the Hulk, a different personality for each form. But you haven't been feeding on anyone in town, have you?"
"No! I don't want anything like that!" the girl said, actually frightened.
"Then you're lucky."
"Uh…" Rogue glanced at Logan, then turned to me. "What's that guy's name?"
"Don't know his real name, never met him personally, but his nickname is apparently Pterox, though I'm not sure," I told the absolute truth. It was just the truth for a different universe, but what's the difference?
"And how do you know about the Hulk?" Wolverine showed curiosity.
"Watched him for a while," I shrugged. "But since it's a morning of revelations, darling, tell me the secret: how did you end up in Canada alone and broke?"
"I…" Rogue looked down. "Since school, I wanted to take the route from the Mississippi to Niagara Falls and up to Alaska…" She fell silent.
"Are all kids in America this reckless?" I looked at the back of Logan's head.
"Don't ask me," the driver snapped, wearily exhaling a cloud of cigar smoke.
"Um, and what can you do, Loki?" Female curiosity is indestructible, regardless of the world or era.
"Oh, a little bit of everything: illusions, playing with the space-time continuum, knife throwing… oh, and I'm a renowned mind-freak!" I recalled an important detail, breaking into a smile.
"I don't doubt it," Logan nodded grimly.
Wow, I told the truth, and I was immediately and unconditionally believed. Granted, I suspect I was misunderstood, but what can you do, the world isn't perfect.
And on that blissful note, our journey was interrupted by a tree suddenly flying onto the road.
Logan, who hadn't buckled up after the stop, wasn't ready for such a turn of events and exited beautifully through the windshield upon impact.
The buckled-in girl just jerked in her seat and lightly bumped her head, while I was un-aristocratically dragged off the bed feet first.
The drag wasn't far, though, so you could say I escaped with only emotional trauma.
"Went in low… looks like rain," I commented on our driver's maneuver, getting to my feet and looking through the passage into the cab.
Logan had flown quite a distance, almost fifteen meters. That's the inertia of an adamantium skeleton for you.
"Oh," Rogue stirred in her seat.
"In one piece?"
"Y-yeah," the girl grabbed her head and tried to unbuckle her seatbelt to get out, but it wouldn't budge. "But I'm stuck!" Panic crept into her voice.
"One second." Leaning over the buckle, I gently manipulated the mechanism jammed by the impact.
Gently, so I wouldn't accidentally break it, since Loki's strength was more than enough to crush ordinary steel.
Meanwhile, Wolverine had just gotten up. With the slightly unsteady gait of a man who'd had one too many (though becoming more confident with every step), he headed toward us.
"Hey, you alive in there?!"