Summary:With Kitty and Piotr's return, Illyana and Doug talk about a certain relationship. Also, Doug's terrible, awful, very bad dating experiences. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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While Doug does have his membership to a Gold's Gym, but the problem with gyms in the city is that their facilities for *agility* training are limited, where as the Xavier School is geared up for gymnasts who are literally beyond human.
Doug is… not beyond human, not really, but for a guy with a CompSci degree, he's *astounding.
Right now he had been practicing leaps, tucks, and rolls - to get out of harm's way, and to fall right - but after a moment, he springs off his feet and turns a cartwheel into a double-backflip.
On the landing, he doesn't place is feet quite right, and he lands on his butt on the mat. Thump.
Finding people isn't a mutant ability of Illyana's, but it certainly *feels* like it sometimes, because she'll just *show up* wherever someeone else. Even if she's never been there before. There are ways around this, but most of the people she's most likely to pop in on aren't really all that savvy on creating Wards against scrying. Which is what the sorceress does when she feels like dropping in on someone. Those that she knows very well, she doesn't even need a sympathetic link to do it.
That's why Illyana just happens to be there in time to catch Doug landing on his ass, and so the other blonde is treated to the sound of one sorceress clapping. Slowly. Even her applause is mocking.
Illyana's found a perch up off the ground to sprawl on and a half-eaten apple is held between her teeth to free up her hands. It also hides the smirk that's undoubtably there.
Doug looks up, and then grumbles, and he says, "I used to be able to do that. I'm getting creaky and rusty. Too much time spent in a chair. That's why I'm looking forward to this fieldwork… at least I'll be up and doing something, even if it is just a routine fix on a listening post."
He gets up, and brushes himself off, and says, "…I can still dance, though. Remember that routine Stevie made us do? She said we had chemistry on the dance floor. Mostly I was just on point because I was terrified of what you'd do if I stepped on your foot." He beams, and rolls his shoulders.
Illyana Rasputina bites off a piece of the apple as she pulls it from her mouth, chewing as she listens to Doug. "I can always drop you into Limbo and sic my critters after you. That's a great way to practice not getting caught." That's a joke, right? It's always a little hard to tell with Illyana.
The reminder of what for Illyana is now quite some time ago gets a short bark of laughter. "Well, fear is a type of chemistry I suppose…" Her head tilts over to the side a bit, a quizzical gesture that is usually more at home on animals than people. "You didn't usually act all that terrified of me. And it's not like I had a reputation of torturing fellow classmates." That's actually not sarcasm! She did always tend to creep people out a bit though. That lizard-brain reacting to the touch of evil beings on her.
Maybe Doug just had blase down to an art form. He raises an eyebrow at Illyana and says, "…That was a joke." He exhales, and rolls his shoulders, and says, "Well, I mean. Ok. Demons. But — here's the thing. You don't have to explain yourself to me. Especially not to me. I can read people's intentions — maybe I always could, at least a little bit." He puts his hands on his hips. "And even though you play your cards close to your chest, I know you care. That's *good enough*."
He walks over to his little high-tech widget, a music speaker, and starts going through his playlist on his phone. "Come here. Dance with me, we'll go through one of those old Stevie routines. Tango? Lambada? Kizomba? Paso Doble?"
Illyana Rasputina bites off another piece of her mostly-gone apple and tosses it over her shoulder as she hops down. A stepping disk opens behind her, catching it mid-flight and then winking closed. Somewhere in Limbo, it lands on a demon's head. "You know those were a loooong time ago for me, right?" She's got both the years *and* the mileage. From step to step, there's the flickerflame of eldrich energies, changing the thick-soled boots with grippy soles to something more suited to dancing. It's one of Illyana's more favored pasttimes, and including an evening at a club was a good way to get the teleporter to help sneak you off campus back in the High School days.
A hand is set on Doug's shoulder, the other set in his hand. "And my intentions tell you you're safe from me?" Illyana asks with that mild teasing, like it's a loaded question. Being able to intuit the things Illyana wants can be disturbing. Much like the things that spark her desires. It's only her will that keeps those dark impulses in check. A constant inner war hidden behind a smirk.
Doug lightly settles his hand on Illyana's waist, and takes her hand. He looks to Illyana, and meets her gaze, his own clear and unblinking. "There's darkness inside you, yeah. But I learned a long time ago that *nobody* and *nothing* dictates to you, not even your own dark side." He shrugs his shoulders.
"Besides… wanna know a secret?" The music comes on, and Doug leads Illyana through the footwork of a Kizomba - less frenetic, but with a lot of synchronous forward and back steps and body motions. He responds naturally - then again he always did. The song choice isn't a latin beat, though, it's Ghost's "Dance Macabre." Not really Doug's style… more Illyana's maybe.
"I have a dark side of my own. Well, I guess not dark so much as it is 'mechanical'."
"Coldly logical?" Illyana guesses. It's something alien to most people, and that tends to get lumped in with things that are genuinely dark or evil.
The observation gets a slightly distracted chuckle from the sorceress. The steps don't come quite so easily to Illyana and so she needs to pay a bit more attention to what they're actually doing. "I try, at any rate. If I hadn't gotten out of Limbo when I was a teenager…" She gives a bit of a shrug. The first couple of years at Xavier's was… awkward as Illyana had to unlearn years of demonic culture. Things like it's not OK to break someone's arm for touching you without permission.
She still argues that one on occasion.
"Yeah, actually. If I'm taking in large amounts of information it sometimes suppresses my—" He thinks, "Relatable personality. I submerge, so to speak. And I'll start automatically responding… and it can come off a little cold. Cruel, even. I disassociate. It doesn't happen often, and I have to *really* open myself up to a huge amount of data input, but when I do, I turn into the Clockwork Boy. I don't like it, but it's there."
"I can't really compare it to the things that happened to you, but I can empathize with you. And I'd never, ever pity you or feel sorry for you - I know you hate that." He glances up into Illyana's eyes, and smirks. "Just… people love you. And you deserve to be loved. And whatever little thing I can do to remind you of that, I'll do. You're worth it."
Step, step, step, "Wanna go into a lift?"
That bit of information gets a calculating sort of gleam in Illyana's eyes. "So, information overload you and it takes your choices out of the equation? Everything is just information?" Now, not something that Illyana is likely to need to be able to invoke. She can just ask and Doug will usually give her whatever it is she wants. Illyana idly twirl the hair at the nape of his neck around her fingers as the repetition makes the steps a bit easier.
"Everyone has their own crises. Their own horrors. Their own demons." Illyana's happen to be a bit more literal and nowadays she tells *them* what to do. "Everyone has parts of themselves they need to keep in check." When Doug says people love her there's a small smile. Almost sad or wistful, oddly. That's interrupted by a short chuckle at his question. "Not going to whine that I might squish you this time?"
Doug murmurs, "Basically… yes. I lose myself in the pattern, and sometimes it takes me a little bit to come to. I control it with meditation, and occasionally a little bit of self-isolation. But I manage it." Then Doug says, "I categorically deny saying that. Ready?"
He steps back, and eases Illyana into a lift, up and over his head for a brief moment, before he guides her back down from the ground and into a smooth step.
"You don't think you merit the way people care for you." He says, as he does a couple of quick steps away, still holding Illyana's hand. "Or that they don't see what's really there." He leaves the 'like your brother' unspoken.
"Hmmm." There's something to the way Illyana says that, as Doug admits his 'problem', if one could call it such. As though it's pricked some curiosity, and she wants to see just what the extents of it might be.
The denial gets a chuckle and then she's stepping into the lift. When he steps away, her fingernails graze the side of his neck, as though she were going to keep him close but he slipped away.
The too-accurate insight chases away the mirth. It's not often that Illyana is faced with someone that can see too deeply into her, her mind a confusing, even frightening place for telepaths. "Their love means the world to me… But they also don't know the real me. They can't see into the shadows." Don't know the things she's done to survive Limbo. It's one of the things that keeps her focused. Keeping the dark things contained, so they don't ever see them.
Doug steps back in, and puts his hand on Illyana's waist, holding her close in an intimate pose, fingers threaded through hers, as the dance ends. "We know what you're holding in check for our sakes. We've *always* known." Doug says, "It's one of the reasons we know you care."
He stands there, in that final posed moment after the song ends, perhaps just a touch longer than most would, without really realizing it. Doug's not a telepath. The things he sees are betrayed by the flick of a glance, a momentary expression on the face, the intonation of a word. In some ways it's even more awkward.
"…So show me? Let me make my own decision about your dark side." Maybe he's curious. Maybe too brave. Maybe he's stupid.
"Or I'm just too stuborn." Illyana jokes in reply. Humor, even if it is barbed, mocking humor most of the time, is part of how she deflects people away from awful truths.
There's no nervousness or awkwardness from her in having Doug in her personal space. While she can be vicious with those that she doesn't know or worse, doesn't like getting near her those that she counts as friend are always welcome in that personal bubble that most are used to.
The request gets a sort of knee-jerk reaction, the shutters falling so her pale blue eyes seem empty of warmth and even soul. She eases back just a hair, and it's like suddenly there's miles between them. Emotions, locked down tight. It's defensive, not letting anyone see that deeply into her. It's protective, keeping what's inside her from tainting others.
Doug pauses… and then lets go. "I'm sorry." He says, automatically releasing her. "I shouldn't have asked for that." He admits it, standing there. His arms fall to his sides. "I'm sorry." He repeats.
Illyana Rasputina's arms fall to her sides as well. She doesn't step away, but the distance is tangible. After a long moment, she blows out a soft sigh. "For someone so smart, you can be really dumb some days, Ramsey." There's a hint of her usual teasing there. "I know. You want to reassure me that no matter what I am, you're OK with it." There's a pause. "My faith isn't that strong, and there's a very real chance that it could hurt you. Literally." And she won't allow that. Won't gamble on that. Her friends mean too much to her.
Doug quirks his mouth, and then says, "I guess it's my instinct to seek out human connection." He admits this, openly, and then rubs the back of his neck. "I guess maybe I am, yeah. Or maybe I'm trying to prove that I'm not fragile Doug who needs to be put on a shelf and protected. I still *hate* that!" he says, looking decidedly displeased for a moment. "…But I guess it's something I have to live with. I can't trivialize your problems that way."
"It's not because it's you, and you know that." Illyana says softly. "I am trying to protect you," She admits, "But not because I think you're particularly weak." A hint of her usual teasing smirk. "This time."
Some of that chilly distance thaws when Doug doesn't push for more. "If it makes you feel better, I'll throw you at some more mundane danger, just to be reckless with you."
Doug snorts, and rolls his eyes, looking away. "Well let's not go nuts with it." He says. "At least give me time to get my body armor on first."
Then he lets his hands drop, and he says, "…Listen. I have issues of my own to work through. As I'm SURE you've figured out, considering that I'm a grown man who lives in an apartment with a tortoise, and who's knitted a collection of cozies for his tortoise. And who takes his tortoise for walks when the weather's good."
"But I've enjoyed living with you. I really have." He holds up his hands. "I just… wanted you to know that."
"Living with your enormous, overprotective brother?" He adds, "…While I'm pretty sure I could work out boundaries with Piotr *eventually* I might have a better chance of not being turned into a greasy smear by doing it over the phone."
Illyana Rasputina steps back into Doug's space, sliding in next to him so she can slip her arm around his waist, steering him towards the gym's exit. "Everyone has their demons." She agrees with him. "And if you let me know how I can help you with yours, I will." One of her faint, genuine smiles touches her lips as he says he likes living with her. "I like living with you, too. Best roommate I've had in years." She teases.
The bit about her brother has Illyana snickering. "You're *fine*." She assures him, and then gives a faint grimace. "He did ask if you 'made me happy'. I don't think he got that I don't have those warm, squishy romantic feelings that others seem to." Certainly her previous roomie did. For her brother. They were sooo squishy. They went splat all over the place when Piotr didn't outwardly reciprocate them.
Doug snorts, and then says, "…Yeah well, as far as romance goes, I'd prefer to *avoid* Kitty and Piotr's… disaster. I prefer to try to be a mature adult about things and then screw them up in ways unique and proprietary to me." Doug walks over to the bleachers and sits, before he grabs a water bottle.
"And besides, if the luck I've had on Tinder is any indication, I am *pretty much* undateable." He silences himself with a long pull off his water bottle, and a flat stare at Illyana. Don't you dare.
Illyana Rasputina chuckles as Doug calls it a disaster. "That bad, eh?" He's got that Inside Scoop, after all. A sigh and she shakes her head, moving to sit down with him. Her forearms come to rest on her knees, fingers interlinking as her hands hang down at the wrists. They're decorated in silver rings and fine chains. "He's obsessing about her and convinced that she's So Over him." I haven't caught up with her, but I'm betting she's still a total mooncalf over him." She hitches her shoulders up in a shrug. "Each convinced the other doesn't *really* want them.
The sorceress looks over at Doug, arching a brow and trying not to smirk too much. "Tinder, huh? Tell me how that's gone."
"That's a good word. Mooncalf." Doug says, before he says "I guess we'll just have to… I dunno…" His eyebrows climb, "*Not* meddle and let them figure it out on their own like a pair of grownups?" He pauses, pauses, pauses… then laughs, aloud. "Hahahahahaha! Oh man. No, we're not doing that are we."
He is also trying to change the subject, diverting it away from his own disastrous dating life.
Illyana Rasputina's other brow rises as Doug is the one trying to deflect this time. The corners of her lips follow, quirking upwards into a smirk as she stands and steps behind him on the bleachers so she can set her feet down on either side of his hips and drape her arms over his shoulders and folding them across the font of his chest. Trapped, Douggie. "Oh yes. Regale me with the Adventues in Doug's Dating Life."
Doug clamps his mouth shut. "Uh-uh." He says. "MmmmMmmmmm." That's the sound of flattening his mouth into a thin line. Nope, nope nope nope. Nope!
Illyana Rasputina's arms tighten around Doug until her chest presses against his shoulders so that her arms can reach around far enough so she can work on tickling his sides. "Come on now! Entertain me! Don't make me get serious in my torture here." She advises him.
…Doug is ticklish. He just is. "Mmmmmmmmmm!" He shakes his head, protesting. "MMMMMmmMMMM!" But then he goes, "Hee hee! Stoppit! Stooooooooop!" Wiggle, wiggle. He does have *great* lats. He works hard on them.
As Doug wriggles and squirms, Illyana turns him and guides him so he's lying on the bleachers so she can let go and shift positions to just *sit* on him. At least he's not being tickled anymore. "So did your dates go *badly* or did they fail to launch at all?" She asks, looking down at him from her new perch.
"Well, there were the ones that turned out to be Skrulls." Doug says, "More than one." He finds himself being sat on, and quits fighting, "There was the *hydra agent*," Doug says, "The Latverian grad student who would not stop talking about how great Doctor Doom was until I finally got fed up and told her if she liked Doctor Doom so much, she could have *him* take her to Kurumazushi."
Illyana Rasputina covers her mouth to keep from snickering too hard. "Ohhhh, yeah. I think we've gotta go a different route. So. What is it you want out of it? The dating, a girlfriend, or the sex?" She asks bluntly. Because to her, there's a goal, so they need to identify which thing Doug's after here.
Doug furrows his brow and then says, "Dating's fun. A companion would be nice. Sex?" He quirks his mouth and looks up at Illyana. "Why are we talking about this?" His cheeks are pink.
Illyana Rasputina's eyes glitter with her amusement as Doug blushes. "Because clearly, you need help. Well, you need help if this is something you want." She clarifies. "Also, I don't want your lizard's girlfriend to get jealous if you suddenly make off with him to have a steady companion." She tries not to smirk too much
"So it's for the companion? And the dating is a bonus? Because you say dating is fun but it sounds like you've had some pretty awful experiences." She's *still* sitting on him. Guess he's a comfy chair.
"Dating's nice." Doug says. "Sex?" He seems awkward talking about that. "Well, I mean. It *used* to be easier. I wasn't even a virgin when I enrolled at the school—" he stops, and clamps his mouth shut. "…Let's not go there."
Illyana Rasputina's brows shoot up again and there's that slow, predatory grin. "Oh reeeeeally? Weren't you like, *fifteen*?" She tsks him, shaking her head. She wiggles a bit on him. Careful, she might start bouncing and while she's not terribly big, she is pretty solidly muscle so she's not exceptionally light, either.
Well, she is wiggling. Doug puts up his hands to stop her. "It's not even worth talking about!" He says, before he mutters, "Look… I'm still a fully-functional person. Yes, I want sex! But I'm not going to treat a person like an object just to get it. So." He shrugs, once, lightly, "…It's been kind of dismal on that front too. It's my problem."
Illyana Rasputina mock-pouts as Doug puts a stop to her wiggling, chuckling at his exasperation. "Hey, from my understanding there's folks out there that'd enjoy it just as much as you and not feel like you're treating them like an object. Now, I admit, I'm just involved for the lulz because this is all way outta my wheelhouse." Her amusement fades though, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly as he describes it as 'dismal'. "And I don't like seeing you down. Uncomfortable, sure. That's fun." She admits rather honestly. There are much worse things that she could do that part of her would also consider 'fun', but the part of her still on the side of the angels keeps that in check.
Doug pulls a frown. "Yeah well, with my powers? Sex without emotional connection isn't going to happen unless I have sex with a robot." He remains lying where he is. "I pick up on emotional nuance, remember? I can't really ignore it. So I'd either be sleeping with someone who feels nothing for me - big affirmation there - or I'd be admitting I'm throwing their feelings back in their face just for nookie."
Illyana Rasputina shifts position as she's sitting on Doug so she can face him, frowning thoughtfully. "Hmm. I hadn't thought of that." She admits, looking… concerned? "I mean, I'm not gonna say 'that sucks', because truth is better than lies but that does complicate things. "And that whole romantic connection/companion bit is important to people, yeah?" Something that, having lived most of her life around demons, she doesn't really have. Something that Doug might know that most don't realize, is that it's more than just some cultural imprinting. Her 'wiring' is subtly different, instincts and emotions and impulses are all skewed.
"So yeah." Doug says. "…It has to at the very least be somebody I like, that I can talk to after, even if they're not the one true love of my life, falling apart into a blubbering mess if we're separated like you-know-whom." Doug says, ruffling his hair. "It is important." Doug says, "But there's a difference in emotional language between love and lust, and it's easy for most people to get them confused. I love Kitty — but at this point being in a relationship with Kitty would be like sleeping with my *sister*. You know?" He looks sheepish, admitting this.
Illyana Rasputina ducks her head, snickering a bit before looking mildly thouhgtful. "Is that something you run the risk of with anyone you get close to? You end up knowing them more than someone else might… ever, right?" People and their feelings and relationships are mildly facinating for Illyana. It's one of the reasons she's got a decent knowledge of pop culture, watching TV and movies and spending time people watching. It's not normally a conversation she has with someone though.
"Now you see my conundrum." Doug says, with a sigh, his eyebrows flattening into a line. "I know what I know, and I can't *not* know it. And I'm just not the kind of guy who can use people like that."
"What if we got you *really* drunk?" Illyana jokes before hmming. "Friends with benefits? Or does that end up hitting too close to 'sister'? I mean, you kinda sounded like you were asking me." The blonde points out. She's not trying to mock him or make him feel bad or anything, she's genuinely trying to understand. But it would be confusing for most people, and she's even further removed than they are.
Doug murmurs, "…You I could talk to after, Illyana. We understand each other. I know what you don't want, you know how I tick. So the idea has its appeal. But like I said… I'm not gonna try for anything someone isn't ready for or interested in. That would be… wrong."
"I'll admit, I *have* overlooked the guys." Illyana points out then with that wicked glint in her eyes. "I mean, you and 'Berto had *chemistry*." She teases, grinning broadly at him.
As to the pair of them? Illyana hitches a shoulder in another shrug. "I like to think we do. Because for all that you capitulate to me pretty easily, I *know* you're not spineless. But I don't know how it'd go. Like I said, out of my wheelhouse." She's only spent four years on Earth in the last 18 of her life, and half of those she was adjusting to not dealing with demons. There's been very little opportunity for that kind of intimacy for the bossy blonde.
Doug gives Illyana a flat look. "You just enjoy the thought of him and I hate-making-out. Fess up." He drops his head back, and then says, "I capitulate to you because the things you pick at me about aren't things worth fighting over, Illyana. If I had to stand up to you, I would. But I don't have to, so why bother?" Then he says, "I mean—if you ever *felt* like figuring it out? I'd be happy if you came to me? But that's a thing where *you* decide when *you're* ready. It's not somebody else's choice to make for you, Endora."
"Have to admit, it sounds hot." Illyana deadpans back at him with a faint smile. With his insight, Doug knows that Illyana enjoys looking. It just doesn't tend to kindle anything more. Not when she looks at him or anyone else. She enjoys being in his space, as evidenced by the fact she still hasn't gotten the hell off of him, but that's unrelated to her appreciation of how he looks.
The offer has her leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. "I'll keep that in mind. Might be worth it just to see what the fuss is about sometime." Because there is that safety net that Doug isn't likely to misinterpret anything from her. Unlike that dance her brother and best friend are doing.
"He is not my type." Doug says, squinching up his nose. But then he turns furiously red. "Uh… hm. O…k." He says. Then he reaches up to - gently - lift Illyana off of him. "I should probably hit the showers." he says, before he gets up, and then turns and hits the locker room at a brisk stride. "…See you back at the apartment?"
Illyana Rasputina looks somewhat bemused as Doug goes that brilliant shade. "Mmmmm. Sure." She conceedes. Since he didn't ask her to give him a lift home, she figures he's going to want a bit of time to compose himself.
A flare of light, and a stepping disks whisks her off to… well, hell to start with. Then? Who knows. But eventually, back to his place.
Doug makes sure that water is *icy* cold. "What the *hell* was that, Ramsey," He says to himself, as she runs his hands down his face and then steps under the water.