Logan lifts his eyebrows a bit. He can't remember the last time someone felt it was a pleasure to meet him, but he's not... really spent much time in polite society in... awhile.

The whole idea of being up in space is really unsettling to him. He can't even fly without feeling severely uncomfortable, but he likes the ground under his feet, needs the senses that come with having dirt under him and air around him. He swallows, trying to imagine 2259. He'd probably still be alive then. Nothing seems to kill him.

"...and I'm over two hundred years in the past. This sort of thing's not in any museum, it's floating around in the ocean where-- when-" (he makes a slight face) "I'm from. Just usually filled with more people."