Savages

[FarFlungDreamer]

Savages
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Deep in the Savage Lands...
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Mutants from all over the world are being abducted.
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They awake in the mysterious Savage Lands.
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None of them know who or what took them; or why.
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None are prepared for the challenges that await.
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Nor the creatures that inhabit this place.
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None ... save two.
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Wolverine                                                and                                                            Sabretooth
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Logan and Victor Creed find themselves at home in the wilderness around them.
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    The predators they meet are no true threat, and the terrain second nature to them.
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      Who or what took them and why is also unknown to them; but it won't be for long...
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[HoneyBadger0.01]

Logan was brought to awareness by the warm feeling of sunlight on his back and the stench of dirt, feces, decaying plant matter, and rotting flesh.


His nose twitched. The scents weren’t anything he hadn’t smelled before, but he didn’t think he’d ever smelled the scents of this particular location before.


The dirt and plant matter smelled strange, foreign. The feces and rotting flesh smelled reptilian, and there was a lot of it.


There was a whiff of some kind of flower, sickly sweet. He couldn’t place the type.


One of his ears was pressed to the dirt. He could feel vibrations through the ground; footfalls of heavy creatures. There was the flapping of wings far overhead, and they didn’t sound feathered, cutting the air too harshly, no soft lisp to the sound.


Even the way the tree leaves rustled was unfamiliar. They weren’t hitting each other right; they sounded too large.


Logan moved his focus to his body: his mouth was dry, there was dirt against his face, there was shadows over his legs and face, dark gray behind his eyelids, but his back was warmed by sun. He couldn’t remember how he got there, which would suggest he’d been injured badly, but he couldn’t smell his own blood, either, so he couldn’t have been badly injured. Had he been drugged? Where was he?


There was an unfamiliar roar in the distance, and the ground beneath him shook slightly with the pounding of heavy feet.


There was a rustling nearby, and Logan opened his eyes to see a large reptile staring at him with yellow eyes, its pupils thin slits, its scales a dark gray, a few orange scales on its brows. It made a small trilling noise, tilting its head.


Logan sat up, and the creature made a startled noise and ran away through the huge ferns on two legs, tail sweeping behind it.


“Alright,” Logan said, a harsh cry making him look up to see a flying reptile through a gap in the huge tree leaves. “Why the hell are there fuckin’ dinosaurs?”

 

[FarFlungDreamer]

Slow but steady pricks repeated in the blackness. So quiet, except for those soft pricks. Something subtly shifted, again... and again... and again... in rhymes of four... what was that? Again... again... thud... thud... it came to him in a slow wave, that it was the ground. The ground shook, again... and again... in beats of four slow thuds.


The black was suddenly doused in brightness. Spots of white shown through it and Victor suddenly was able to comprehend it was light outside. Or... his heavy eyes parted and the light stunted his view for a moment until he adjusted. Green... he could see green. Green and the brightest blue he'd seen in years. It was trees... he realized. He was in a forest.... or no, it didn't smell of the forest. There was no moss, no musky scents.... everything was lighter. He could taste more moisture and the crisp scent to the air made him think it was a jungle. 


His eyes rolled thoughtfully over the leaves, and down the trunks as much as he could see. 


Those were some weird looking leaves. Where was he? Wasn't Africa, or the Himalayas... the Amazon didn't look nothing like this. Victor groaned suddenly, and the feeling of pain shot down his spine before he didn't feel it again. It made him realize he couldn't move, couldn't recognize the feel of his own body. His arm didn't come up as he thought to move it...


He groaned again, all he could do at the moment. What had happened? Victor couldn't really remember... he just remembered wherever he'd been... the street lights around him changed first, and then the street itself was doused in red. His vision had blurred and his mind unhinged, anger had washed over him like an old friend, like it always did.


Victor didn't remember what happened after he'd gone feral, though. Could be he'd escaped whoever had attacked him on his job (he guessed he had been on a job, hadn't he?) and passed out, or they might have taken him down. He found it unlikely they'd taken him down when he was so pissed off. Then again, he wouldn't be unconscious if he'd won. What had he been doing? It took a moment for his thoughts to form... but slowly they pulled up to the surface. Yeah. He'd been in Italy, whacking some asshat for a cool million. Someone attacked him the night after he'd finished the job.


It had probably been the Italian mafioso prick who'd hired him to ace the other Italian mafioso prick. Them guys didn't never want any leads back to who hired Victor for the job or some shit. Anything to not upset their shaky balance of power and respect. That was probably it, he decided. 


Apparently he needed to do a little killing spree and a couple of massacres to get himself a better reputation on the shitty island. Victor liked to be feared, as well as have a good reputation for his business. When they knew of and feared him too, it was always easier to avoid situations like this. They were a waste of his time and more annoying than anything else. Usually there were only one or two people to kill for it, too, which took most of the fun out of it for him.


He wondered what they'd call him in ol'boot, after he taught them all a lesson. The germans called him Der Schlächter, one of his favorites. Maybe he'd change Sabretooth up to The Butcher in the America's too. Nah... it wasn't edgy enough to scare people, especially in the U.S. Too much gore in it's own right to let a little name like that go unnoticed. El Tigre was alright in Spain, Mexico, and most of South America... he liked Slasher. It worked for Asia, it could work in Italy too. He couldn't remember straight if he had one in Russia.


Probably not... he liked to stay away from the Russkies. Mostly 'cause he had a lot of history there, and he didn't want to be dealing with them. Lots of them were too prideful, too stubborn. They never seemed to let a good thing go. So he'd ace somebody, and then their family would track him down. He'd kill that guy, or the broad, and then it was wash and repeat. Usually it was a waste of his time and interrupted his other business. Sometimes, though, when he was in the mood to have a nice drawn out hunt like that, he'd provoke some old family in Russia and watch them continue to come for him until he'd killed off their whole line. That mood rarely struck him, though it was a hell of a lot of fun.


But he had done that one job there recently. He doubted Omega Red picked up on any of it, though it'd been near his territory and he always ran with a bunch of psycho's. Again, this was why he usually skipped Russians when they came across his desk. He'd need to have some fun with them if they were trying to fuck with him though. But he had too many jobs lined up right now, a few real juicy ones, and he didn't want to have to worry about them constantly crashing his parties.


Thinking on his schedule, it was close to the runt's birthday. Victor would need to take some time out of his schedule to think up a real good one this year. Maybe he'd abduct one of his little X-brats he was so attached to. The squawking one with the neon coat came to mind. She bordered on defenseless, at least to Victor, and it'd make Jimmy squirm real good.


The feeling in his hands returning brought him back around to the question at hand. Where the fuck was he and who dropped him here. That or the drugs were wearing off. He was pretty sure it was the drugs, now, because he wasn't daydreaming so much. His head distinguished that the prickling feeling along his arm were some sorta bugs.


Victor groaned, but stretched his limbs as they came more and more back under his control. Whatever they juiced him up with, it had been a doosy. He couldn't remember it for the life of him, though, which might be part of the drug. It could just be his rage. Victor probably wouldn't find out.


He inhaled deeply, trying to pick out a scent he could use. Maybe something familiar. He got nothing, no human scent around... not even animals really. His face scrunched a bit in confusion, should at least be animals around in a jungle like this. There were, though, he could smell all the telltale signs. Victor just didn't recognize them... damn, whatever that drug was had really kicked his ass. 


The thought made him growl deep in his stomach, a slow anger lit up in his chest.


He didn't like the idea someone could put him down like that, and he didn't like being somewhere so foreign. Victor had traveled the entire fucking planet at this point, in his years, so his sense of smell must be behind the rest of his healing. The anger that rolled through him gave him enough strength to finally push himself up by his arms so he was sitting. Not the best time for his healing factor to decide to take a smoke break.


Victor fought with himself as he pulled his legs under him and then righted himself into a crouch so he could look around. Seriously, where the fuck was he anyways? He took in his surroundings with a clearer mind. The trees were all wrong... for anything, really. Vines hung down like it might be a jungle, but the trees were too big and the leaves too heavy. Everything smelt wrong... even the ground didn't smell right. The grass and dirt were... well wrong. Victor couldn't identify what was different about it, but something was.


He moved ahead, slowly to make sure he didn't walk into something and get blind sighted. He could hear movement all around him, but it wasn't the little noises he would pick up on with no animals nearby. Just heavy, steady thuds... footfalls, he registered. What were there elephants around? Victor couldn't be sure, but he knew a quick way to find out.


He sniffed out the nearest big body of water and made his way there with as much stealth as he could manage. It was always the place to look. Especially in the wilderness, everything went there. Water was part of living, and creatures surrounded themselves with it. So if he found the water he'd find whatever was going on with this place.


The grogginess from the drugs was finally wearing off as he reached his destination. Or so he had told himself. He'd checked himself mentally, and physically on his trip here. Tested his line of thought and each muscle. But... as he pushed back one of the ferns as big as him, he realized he must still be high as kite.


Because what he found sure as hell wasn't no elephant. Instead he stepped into the open area of a lake to see... dinosaurs. Hundreds of them crowded around the water making the oddest noises he'd ever encountered. One walked slowly past him and Victor sunk back into the foliage again.


Yep. He had to be high and imagining all this. He was old, but he'd never been that fucking old. He certainly couldn't be asleep and remembering some whack memory of his own. That happened often enough, but this couldn't be one of those times. That was a few million years before even his time.


Victor moved further back into the bushes, his eyes taking in the creatures surrounding the watering hole he'd found. As he looked around, he decided it wasn't the Italians or the Russians who had gotten ahold of him. He wasn't sure who had, but it was for fucks sake not them. He didn't have another chance to continue the thought though, because before he knew it, one of the creatures he had still been half convinced was his imagination took note of him and pushed against him.


A savage growl tore from his throat, and his reflexes moved before his mind did. His claws unsheathed into long talons and he slashed automatically across it's face to back it off. It let out a high pitch, shrill noise and after it stumbled back, Victor found it charging at him.


Fuck... Victor quickly dismissed the thought. His shoulders bunched as he leaned into a full crouch, and his clawed hands were ready at his sides as it charged him. He'd get up on top of it and see just how well a dinosaur did against an angry Sabretooth.

 

[HoneyBadger0.01]

Did I get sent back to the prehistoric past again? Logan wondered as he pushed through the fern fronds, following the dinosaur’s trail.


He growled quietly to himself. He’d fucking hated being stuck in the past. Dinosaurs weren’t the fun that blockbuster movies made them out to be, and prehistoric mammalian bipeds weren’t much good at making beer.


Getting stuck in the past had sucked.


And Logan swore that if he was stuck with Peter Parker again then he was going to go berserk…


“Please,” Logan muttered to himself, stepping over the bones of some rabbit-sized dinosaur, “if I’m stuck here with anyone, let it not be Peter Parker.”


He glared at an ignorant cluster of large purple mushrooms crowding into the barely-there path. Was this Mojo’s doing again? he wondered. He’d thought the Minutemen had taken care of that.


That adventure had started during a bank heist due to the interference of special time crystals, and Logan had definitely remembered the incident after he’d been transported to the past.


This time, though, Logan didn’t remember much. He remembered an evening spent drinking beer at the bar a couple hours bike ride from the X-Mansion, and…


Oh, right. His third beer had tasted slightly off, and he’d smirked down at it, suddenly aware that there was someone in the bar watching him. So that person really thought they could poison him? The thought made him chuckle, and he’d swigged down the rest of his beer, setting it on the counter with his money and exiting the bar, aware of someone following him.


He’d exited the bar and turned around to see who’d followed him out, only for the drug to hit him, taking his vision first.


“Wh-what?” he’d gasped, as he’d felt the effect in his limbs and fallen to his knees. He’d growled. “Ya realize that as soon as my healin’ factor kicks in, yer a dead man, right?”


“Ah, Wolverine,” had said a voice. It was familiar, but he couldn’t place it, his ears starting to ring loudly, his body shutting down. “Your confidence will be your undoing.”


And then everything had gone black.


Logan growled at the memory, fists clenching. He’d messed up. He’d known he’d wake up, though, and had planned on killing whoever it was then, but he’d expected to wake up chained to a chair with a sleazy bastard monologuing in his face, not abandoned in a forest full of dinosaurs.


Stepping out of the ferns, Logan found himself in a clearing, the soil dryer there. Large footprints crossed the area.


Walking over, Logan knelt down next to one of the prints, sniffing as he eyed its shape.


Back when he’d gotten stuck in the Cretaceous Period, he’d come to recognize the prints and scent of T-Rexes, among a few other dinosaurs. Was this the Cretaceous again, then?


He glanced around at the trees, frowning slightly. Something was different. It could be that he was just in a different part of the world.


He stood up. He needed to find a higher location so he could see where he was, get the lay of the land. If he was indeed stuck in the past, as he seemed to be, he could be stuck there for a while. Might as well make himself at home.


He didn’t smell any mammals this time around, which was probably a good thing. His interactions with the small-folk last time had caused a bungle in the future. the whole thing where they ended up surviving the asteroid impact because of what Logan had taught them, and then ended up taking over the world instead of humans and venerating him as Messiah… yeah, probably better that there weren’t any small-folk this time around. He’d just have to get by without beer.


He grunted, turning in a slow circle. He couldn’t see any higher elevation through the tall trees surrounding him, but if he could find a creek then he could follow it upstream to its highest point. So he just had to listen for running water.


Straining his hearing, he heard the telltale burble of running water in the distance and started towards it. He started feeling more heavy footfalls, started hearing strange dinosaur noises, sounds that could only be loosely categorized as moans, groans, roars, shrieks, and screeches.


It wasn’t until he crossed paths with what was obviously a stegosaurus that he realized he couldn’t possibly be stuck in the past; even he knew that stegosauruses lived in the Late Jurassic Period.


Logan paused, frowning as he watched the stegosaurus drinking from the creek he’d come to. If he wasn’t in the past, then he had to be in the present, and it wasn’t so much a question of when he was as where he was. It’s not like there weren’t scientists running around who wouldn’t delight in genetically engineering dinosaurs, and then dropping people there and observing how they dealt with the environment.


Which meant that there had to be surveillance technology around.


Logan looked around, senses on high alert for any sign that he was being technologically monitored, when he heard high-pitched, shrill noise, coming from downstream, and then an all-to-familiar roar.


Logan froze.


Sabretooth.


Logan suddenly wished he’d gotten stuck with Peter Parker again instead.

 

[FarFlungDreamer]

Fuck... Victor quickly dismissed the thought. His shoulders bunched as he leaned into a full crouch, and his clawed hands were ready at his sides as it charged him. He'd get up on top of it and see just how well a dinosaur did against an angry Sabretooth


"Urgh," His breathe blew from his chest, and left him winded as the beasts arm hit him with more force than a truck going sixty. Victor's eyesight went out when his back hit against the tree; which split all the way up it with a deafening crack. Being underneath it sounded like thunder underneath it. Victor slid down it but as he heard the beast coming his way he launched himself up to his feet.


His arm swung loosely around his side, broken, apparently. Victor shot it a nasty look, completely useless for now. His lips pulled back from his teeth and his head snapped to the animal who was walking closer to him again.


"Thought I'd stay down did ya?" Victor said, his voice nothing more than a combination of growls and half slurred words. He roared and launched towards the animal again. It sensed the attack, but its mass made it a lot slower than Victor was. With his good arm he slashed across its thick leg. It let out another shrill shout and Victor dodged it's hurried stomping to get around to it's other leg. He made quick work, or as quick as he could with it's tough skin,and cut away to the tendons.


It bucked and raced forward, Victor tested his other arm and found he could move some of his fingers again. It was surprising since the nerves were still exposed in his forearm. Victor snarled and got decided it was good enough. He raced after and and got ahold of its tail to climb up. It was a rough ride up with only one good arm and the other still weak while it healed. 


But once he was back on it's back he threw himself forward towards it's neck and sunk both set of claws deeply into the softer tissue there. The creature only started to run faster and faster, as it cried out. A roar of his own bubbled up from his chest as Victor tried to bleed it out. It worked for awhile but the deeper it got the more the bastard bucked. 


If his arm wasn't so damaged from that bite earlier he might have been able to hold on. But as it was, the creature threw him off. His body arched high into the air before he fell back to earth and straight on a bunch of rocks. Victor's senses went in and out for a moment, and his body threaten to pass out. Victor forced himself awake, and pulled at some of his limbs so he could wake himself up with the pain.


As the blackness passed, Victor sucked in a rattled breathe and tested his lungs. Yeah, well something wasn't working right. He let out a tired groan and waited the couple of minutes it took for him to be able to sit up properly. With the rest of his body now working to heal from the bad landing, Victor's arm was progressing much slower. He could still use it, but it's been torn again when he fell on it.


Victor moved away from the fight, in pain but thrilled. Damn. Nobody but the runt could give him that good of a fight. He still didn't know how the fuck there were dinosaurs around, if there were. It had felt real. But he didn't care one way or another, it had been one hell of a fight. He sniffed, suddenly, and a cloud passed over his good mood. Hm... he leaned his head up toward the sky and took a deeper sniff.


Yeah. No doubt about it. That was his annoying goodie two shoes brother's scent alright. So was he stuck here too eh? Or was it his little X-Geeks who had brought Sabretooth here? He almost wished it was them. He wouldn't mind slaughtering one or two of them. Oh course the last time he tried it hadn't worked, too bad. But he'd gotten a good tear out of that psychic Psylocke bitch.


Too bad she survived. He'd so hoped she'd die, he was still a little resentful from that time back when she had gotten in his head. It had been years back. But Victor never forgot someone slighting him. He'd gutted her pretty good, and left her for dead. He doubted the Runt's friends much appreciated it. But James was always playing hero, always trying to ignore that he was as much an animal as anything that was around them now.


Well he hadn't exactly thought he'd see the little asshole next time after dealing with a dinosaur. But he was either high or the world was a lot fucking weirder than even he thought. It wouldn't surprise him none too much. They'd seen each other between then and now. But honestly, it wasn't in any camaraderie. James still ignored his true nature, and Victor still embraced it.


Victor continued forward until the runt came into view.


"Well, well, well," Victor called out in a cool tone. "If it ain't the Runt. All this-," he gestured with both arms, one still raw from his fight, to their surroundings, "-you or yer little X-fools doin'?"

 

[HoneyBadger0.01]

So the bastard who drugged me and brought me here did the same to Creed, huh? Logan thought, and sighed as he heard a dinosaur shriek and Sabretooth give another roar. Because of course the first thing Creed would do after waking up would be to attack the first thing that moved.


He supposed it made sense that anyone who wanted to fuck with him enough to drop him somewhere with a prehistoric jungle would also drop Sabretooth there. Ain’t nobody could fuck with him like Creed could, and that fact wasn’t exactly a secret.


And this certainly wasn’t Creed’s doing—nothing about this situation was his style. Looked like Creed was just a pawn in this game, then, the same as him.


Creed wasn’t going to like that. And with nobody else to take his anger out on, Creed would take it all out on Logan, simply because he was there.


Logan considered, for a moment, turning and moving in the opposite direction from Sabretooth to try to avoid confrontation—he didn’t want to deal with Creed’s shit right now—but decided that confrontation was unavoidable.


They’d both been dropped there for a reason, after all. Whoever had dropped them there had obviously wanted them to meet and fight, which meant that they’d likely orchestrate events so that they had to confront each other no matter what Logan did.


And of course, as soon as Creed caught his scent anywhere he’d immediately start tracking him down, and Logan hated being hunted.


Best to just face Sabretooth head on.


Logan sneered slightly, tilting his head and cracking his neck, rolling his shoulders, before moving silently towards the inevitable fight.


Damn. All he really wanted to do was drink some beer.


***


He heard Creed before he saw him, smelled Creed before he heard him. The breeze stank of heavily of Creed’s blood, mixed with some blood from a dinosaur as well. Sabretooth’s steps were heavier and it sounded like he was limping, his breathing labored. Seemed that Sabretooth hadn’t fared too well against the prehistoric reptile.


Creed really was an idiot.


Logan snorted slightly, his lips quirking in a wry smirk. The dinosaur hadn’t even sounded like a predator.


Still, any herbivores that had survived this long with T-Rexes wandering about were not to be trifled with. It was best to just leave them be.


But then again, he didn’t think Sabretooth had ever been abandoned in the prehistoric past. So Logan had a definite advantage over Creed in this environment.


Logan wiped the smirk from his face as Creed came into view through the ferns, covered in blood. It looked like maybe one of his arms had been broken and wasn’t quite healed.


“Well, well, well,” Creed called out. “If it ain’t the Runt.”


Logan’s lips pulled back in a sneer, a growl vibrating his throat. He loathed that nickname, and Creed knew it.


“All this you and yer little X-fools doin’?” Creed asked, gesturing with both arms to their surroundings.


Logan fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes,” he said sarcastically, “the X-Men thought it’d be tactically strategic to nab ya from wherever ya were and stick ya in a prehistoric jungle full’a fuckin’ dinosaurs that we happened ta stumble upon, just to piss ya off. An’ then they saw fit ta nab me from my favorite bar and stick me here with ya, just to piss ya off even more. Sounds like a great plan.”