2019-03-21 - Dealing with the Devil

Summary:

After visiting the Sorcerer Supreme, Illyana and Doug go back to his place to strike a deal.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: 03/20/2019
Location: Doug's Apartment:

Related Logs

http://empirestateheroes.wikidot.com/log:2019-03-20-the-sorcerer-s-apprentice

Theme Song

None

douglas-ramseyillyana-rasputina

The upper floors of the old warehouse building have been turned into a lofty apartment — the old plank floors have been sanded down and finished, the old brick walls cleaned, new windows installed, and metal light fixtures installed hanging from the old wood crossbeams. Gently used furniture and colorful persian carpets in the main room soften the roughness of the apartment; numerous framed posters are hung on the walls, indicating the owner's tastes — movies like Kurosawa's Yojimbo, Dr. Strangelove, Goldfinger, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Plan 9 From Outer Space, and advertising posters for musicians and bands like the Rolling Stones, the Zombies, Screamin' Jay Hawkins, the Ike & Tina Turner Revue, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Alison "Dazzler" Blaire, Lila Cheney, and Bruce Springsteen. There's a big-screen, bolted to the far wall.
The other substantial room in the apartment is the library and study, revealing Doug's voracious taste in books, ranging from pulpy westerns and sci-fi to history to French art folios, philosophy, math and engineering, computer theory… he reads everything he can get his hands on. He also has an impressive shelf of vinyl records to go with a record player in the corner of the room. His computer is a three-monitor beast, a complete custom job that is beyond cutting-edge and frequently upgraded.
The rest of the apartment is pretty normal; a couple of rooms have been turned into guest rooms that are little more than a bed and bureau and Doug's room not much more than that. A rough bathroom has been installed with a trough sink that looks like it was rescued from a bar somewhere and a standing shower. The utility kitchen's installations also look like they were rescued from a bar; a low, deep sink, groaning old oven, and a boxy old mint-green fridge.

They teleport into the middle of the apartment, and Doug looks around, before he glances to Illyana, and says, "Hold on." He shrugs off the robe, and walks into his bedroom. "I like the robe, but pointy-toed slippers and harem pants really *aren't* me." He comes back out, shirtless and barefoot, wearing a pair of jeans — he jumps up and down to finish getting them on, before he zips them up, and then walks over to a disinterested-looking tortoise in an enclosure. He takes it out, and sets it on the floor, before he puts down a blue ball about the same size that it is — he walks into the kitchen as the tortoise chases the ball around. "That might look adorable, but he thinks the ball is his girlfriend, and he's furious because she keeps playing hard to get."

Illyana Rasputina didn't take the time to look around the first time she was here, and whole most people would take the time to do just that while Doug is getting changed, Illyana trails behind the other blonde so she's got a spot to wait that gives her a clear view into his room as he changes. That small smirk that drove so many of her classmates nuts, like she knows a joke that the rest of them don't, curves her lips as she waits.

It's been less than a year, but Illyana looks decidedly older than the last time Doug saw her. There's also the 'Queen of Limbo' title that Strange dropped on her, which she'd never made claims to before. None of her classmates saw too much of the hell-realm, and the sorcerers was quite serious that the place was dangerous and no, there would be no exploring.

Illyana gives a soft huff of amusement as Doug bounces, and watches him interact with the tortoise. "Do I want to know why you have a lizard?"

Doug has… been hitting the gym. He's *stocky*. He has *lats*. He tries to duck out of view as he changes out of those conjured clothes and into some sensible jeans. "Really?" Still, one way or another, he gets his big boy pants on and stops looking like an extra from Aladdin: the Musical. "Tortoise. He's a red-footed tortoise. His name is Hercules. I saw him in a reptile store and it just clicked, and I brought him home. I mean, everybody's got to have a companion, right?"

"So um. It's been awhile. You look great! And you got a promotion, apparently… congratulations?" He crosses his arms over his chest. "I can make you breakfast if you want. I still follow a meal plan from the school dietitian — alumni perks, ya know? So for me it's wholesome, boring oatmeal."

Illyana Rasputina isn't being shy about the fact that she's watching him, but she doesn't offer any commentary. That's probably for the best, given her humor tends to be a bit cutting. Maybe it means she has nothing bad to say about what she sees! Whatever it is, she's not saying.

There's a glint to Illyana's eyes as he corrects her. She likely did that on purpose just to get a rise out of him. The glint and the smirk fade as he mentions her 'promotion' though. "I think it's technically more along the lines of a coup. I didn't have much of a choice." She breathes a long exhale out through her nose and then gives him a slight nod. "Well I'm not on a meal plan. Can I *not* have oatmeal?" She says nothing on the companion front. Even amidst her friends at Xavier's, Illyana was a bit of a loner.

Doug raises his eyebrows and then says, "Well, I can have some protein too, so…" He puts his oatmeal on to cook, and then proceeds to fry up some eggs, and a side of — "Um, hm. Well." Chicken. That's what he has, chicken.

"This is the life I lead." He says, before he looks over to Illyana and then says, casually, "What's on your mind? It really is nice to see you. I'd been thinking, I wish I could see more of you guys. I'm as guilty of it as anybody. When do I call… when do I text? I know that it's just part of being adults that friends grow up and grow apart but honestly…?" He's not a fan.

"Sometimes I think I peaked at fifteen. And that? Is *sad*. Toast?"

"Trade you." Illyana says in that dry, mocking manner of hers as she slides into a spot to sit down where she can watch him work. "You couldn't have reached me, anyway. Reception is terrible in Limbo." As in, nonexistent. "And isn't it a bit early to decide if you've peaked or not?"

Illyana has never been particularly fussy about her food. Apart from oatmeal, it seems It's always better than what she gets stuck eating in Limbo. Demons are the worst cooks. And you don't really want to know what you're eating. The toast gets a nod.

"So it's just you and your… companion? I didn't take much time to watch you before dropping in." She asks, looking over towards the tortoise again as it chases after the ball. Watching him? Sounds kinda stalkery. "It's nice to see me but…?" She says, rolling her gaze back at him. "What do I want, right?"

"It'd be rude to just come out and ask you." Doug says, "Besides, you'll get around to telling me when you get around to it." He flips the eggs in the pan, and then gets the toast going, before he says, "It's just me and Hercules. I got this place cheap, comparatively speaking, rehabbed the upstairs, and I'm renting out the downstairs as business space. I'm not a billionaire like SOME people, but it turns out that making money isn't hard, when you're me. Just write a couple of software apps, rent out some business space, and the money makes itself."

A moment later, he cavalierly slides the plate in front of Illyana. Three fried eggs, some chicken, and toast. "Voila. Food fit for a monarch. And to think there was a time when I could barely make a bowl of cereal."

Illyana Rasputina was a fan of cereal when she first got to Xavier's. It was easy to make. She got some weird looks when she didn't seem to notice or care that the milk had gone bad that one time… Picking up her fork, she pokes at her food a bit before taking a bite. "Eh, you know I suck at social niceties. One of the reasons I drug you along to see Strange with me."

Doug's comment about making money gets a soft huff of amusement. "You're bored, aren't you?" She says, making a guess. C'mon, the boy's way too into his turtle.

Doug serves himself up a bowl of oatmeal with a little bit of brown sugar on top, walks over to sit opposite Illyana and sits, heavily. He swirls the spoon around, and then drops his elbows on the table and his chin into his hands.

"*Desperately*. Does it show?"

"We used to… we used to have the most amazing lives. Now, I'm doing good work with SHIELD, but I fly a desk. I miss… I miss the gang. I miss the things we used to do. I know it was all stupid and more dangerous than we thought at the time, but…" He gives Illyana a little smile, and puts his spoon into his mouth. "Yesh."

Illyana Rasputina squints a bit at Doug as she eats her food. She never really saw any of the things they got into as exceptionally dangerous, but at least she knows she has a somewhat skewed idea of the term.

"So… why are you doing it? Boring oatmeal, boring job… Let me guess, your lizard is getting more action than you are." She gives him a flash of teeth that's not really a smile before standing up and going over to open his 'fridge and look inside.

"He would be if he could catch that ball." Doug says, before he puffs his cheeks out, and sighs. "I used to be bolder. I think after the uh — after what happened… it took some of the wind out of me, you know?" The scar on his side. He stirs his oatmeal, thoughtfully. "You've got a point, and you're circling it. Did I ever tell you how you remind me of a shark, when you circle what you're getting at?"

His fridge is neat. Leftovers are labeled — he makes rice for the week and puts it in a container, he's got some meat marinating in something, some not-really-pasta pasta, and… pudding cups. At least a dozen packages of them in different flavors. They're his cheat snack.

"So you want adventure in the great wild somewhere, but at the same time you're afraid of getting hurt, because you actually know the potential price of it all. And because your head usually leads your heart, you're stuck." Illyana guesses, her tone like someone reading off an ingredients list. Clinical. Detatched. An almost absent observation as she pokes around in his 'fridge. She must not find anything to her liking because she closes it without taking anything out.

Turning around to face him, she leans back against the appliance and crosses her arms before her, and one leg over the other. "Here I thought it was the flat, soul-less eyes that reminded you of them." There's that mocking curve to her lips again.

When she speaks again, presumably getting to the point, it might not seem entirely helpful at first blush. "I don't want to sleep in Limbo."
Doug looks up, and then says, absently, "Oh, your eyes were never soul-less. It was just that you could look *into* a person's soul, and sometimes you didn't see very much.

Then Doug pauses, and blinks, and realizes what he says, and his cheeks flush. "Well, uh. Um. I mean." He says, "…I'd never turn anybody away—" He's flustered. He does fluster.

It probably doesn't help his flustering that Illyana's direct gaze is so disconcerting, as he just noted. Seeing Doug squirm causes that predatory glint to return to Illyana's eyes, and she pushes off of the 'fridge to stalk towards where he sits. "Mmmm. That's our Doug. Always so accommodating." Considering that she's asking for a favor… without actually y'know, *asking*, one would think she wouldn't be teasing the person she's looking to get that favor *from*.

Illyana reaches out to stroke his hair, and one might almost expect her to follow it up with 'good boy'. Her gaze is on his face, watching the flush of his cheeks and smirking at his stammering. "Do you need to ask Hercules first?" Now she's just yanking his chain.

Doug looks up — he always was brave enough to look Illyana in the eye. Whatever he might've seen there that frightened him, he never looked away unless she made him. "Madam, I am but a mere mortal, and you are the Demon Queen of Limbo. How could I refuse you anything?"

His hair, it needs to be noted, is as thick and as delightfully soft as it always was. He always did have *great* hair. It was his Secondary Mutation.

Illyana Rasputinas' gaze narrows a bit, but the smirk stays. "Flattery, my dear… means I won't kick you out of your own bed." Her expression relaxes then to something more… real. Without the mask of mocking and smirking. A side that Doug knows very well that not many see. It took more than a year of being 'safe' at Xavier's before the blonde sorceress would let those walls slip.

With a soft sigh, Illyana slides back into her chair, looking at her plate and not at Doug. "So tell me about this boring job of yours and why you haven't blown them off yet."

Doug fishes around in his oatmeal. He takes a bite of it, and then says, "I'm doing good work at SHIELD. I just delivered on my first big project, giving hard data on an intergalactic human trafficking ring that's existed in New York for more than a century. As I understand it they're already making arrests." He frowns. "I'm not a super-hero, but I'm doing good."

"A little kid got brought in. Russian boy, somebody was running experiments on him, and hurt him bad. He's a telekinetic, a powerful one. He got hungry, and broke out of where they were containing him. Raised holy havoc in the cafeteria. The kid just wanted a snack. I ah, told him I once knew a girl who was a lot like him."

Illyana Rasputina ahs, softly. "So, it's boring but necessary work. And it probably bothers you that it's important work and you're still not feeling… fulfilled?" Chewing on her toast, she shakes her head. "I never understood why anyone would want to traffic in humans. They make crappy slaves." Her tone is dry, and the easy assumption is she's had human slaves. Not of couse, that she basically *was* one as Belasco's apprentice. And look where that got him.

The story of the boy gets a small huff of amusement. "Careful Ramsey, folks will think you've got a soft spot for Russians." Yeah, she can guess who the girl was.

"It doesn't sound like a fun job to have." Doug says, maybe a little bit cheeky. He gives Illyana a faint grin. "Hard-luck Russkies with hearts of gold and stubborn streaks. He was pissed off because he wanted to heat up a hot pocket but didn't know how to use the microwave."

Then Doug says, "I guess even now, after everything that's happened, I still have dreams of being a super-hero. The Verb, or something. With my nerdy power."

"You could always be the guy in the van." Illyana says. "Not like, a literal van. But like running things from some remote sort of location where you could see everything and catch the patterns." She stabs at her eggs before chewing thoughtfully for a moment. "Otherwise you'd be a regular hero, unless we got jumped by an alien language or something."

"Of course, if you want excitement you can always come back to Limbo with me and try to get the demons to fall in line." That's a terrible idea. Demons have that whole might-makes-right sort of philosophy.

"Well I mean, permit me my fantasy, busting the bad guys, saving the day, beautiful women swooning over me—" Doug pauses, and then says, "Ah, um. I mean. Never mind."

"Okay, so you want to stay here… we need to set some guidelines." He doesn't try to foist rules on Illyana. "I don't want to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and find S'ym in there. Or any other demons, for that matter."

"Sounds like you had the first two in your last bit of data-pushing." Illyana points out, pushing away her now-empty plate. "You want the third, start going to work without a shirt." She gestures to his naked upper body. "I'm sure you'll manage." The blonde woman flashes him a grin then, more teeth than smile.

As Doug moves onto his guidelines, Illyana gives a thoughtful nod. "No demons in the bathroom. OK." Like S'ym would fit in Doug's bathroom…

The apples of Doug's cheeks turn scarlet. "Hey. I like being strong." He says, his voice soft. "Even if I can't lift a car."

"Okay. Your turn."

"Do you forget your keys under a car often enough that you need to be able to lift one?" Illyana asks, giving him a too-sweet smile for a moment. As that fades, she gives him a long Look. "Doug. Every time we were in a serious situation, you were the one that got us to our resolution. Without needing to lift a car."

Illyana gives Doug a slow blink as he says it's her turn. "Huh." She looks thoughtful. "I don't have to take care of the lizard." A pause. "Or do the dishes." That's kind of two things. Shhh.

"Lifting cars is cool though. Me? Useful but not cool. I'm the fanny-pack of mutants." Doug says, before he quirks his mouth. He opens his mouth to bring that up, and then says, "Fine, you don't need to take care of Hercules. You don't need to wash *my* dishes." He slips into a negotiation mode.

"No parties."

A slow grin slips over Illyana's features, one of those predatory things that's all teeth and hungry glint in her eyes. She leans forward as they start to hammer out a Deal.

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