2019-04-20 - Caring For Your Pet

Summary:

Illyana and Doug work on researching the Splinter Lords involved in the kidnapping of children in Illyana's library in Limbo. Until Illyana decides Doug really needs a bath.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sat Apr 20 06:59:55 2019
Location: Limbo

Related Logs

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Theme Song

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douglas-ramseyillyana-rasputina

When Illyana was a student at Xavier's, she was just an apprentice on the run from Belasco. Her trips through Limbo, taking others or even just by herself were kept very short. She certainly hadn't taken any of them to the then-Bleasco's citadel.

This will be Doug's second time here. The first was relatively brief and in another part of the castle where Illyana keeps her scrying crystal. Today they're in her library. Or, library/lab. Something. There are shelves and shelves of books that lead off into darkness, but the main area is also filled with tables and shelves with what looks like toe of frog and eye of newt or something.

Most of the light is by torch or candle, and if there are windows to the outside here, Doug hasn't seen any of them. It makes the room much darker than most modern Earth-types are used to. And the shadows seem to breathe around you. It's… disconcerting.

The blonde sorceress is in a dress today, something that looks sort of like purple velvet that sweeps the floor and with long belled sleeves but bares her shoulders. Her feet, when they peek out below the hem, are bare. Her hair is pulled into a long ponytail and she's moving down one row of bookshelves that look like props out of the Maester's citadel on Game of Thrones. "Plokta, Plokta… Where are you." She muses to herself. She brought Doug along to help her research. Or maybe to watch him run from demons. Who knows.

Doug was out jogging when Illyana grabbed him, so he's dressed in his cross-trainers, sweatpants, and a sweatband — that's pretty much it. Fortunately he's DTR - that's Down to Research - pretty much anytime. "So hey, I think this is the first time I've spent any amount of time in your nightmare reflection of a Disney Castle… kind of cool. Reminds me of some stuff in the D&D books I used to read."

"Would you say the alignment of the Limbo demons tends more toward Neutral Evil or Chaotic Evil?" He muses, "I'm thinking Chaotic Evil. You, you're kind of Lawful Evil, but that's OK—" He rambles a bit.

He pulls a book off a shelf and reads the spine. "Book of Forbidden Love." He opens it *just a bit* and then say "…Baby, we are not in Amsterdam." And puts it back, before he wipes his fingers on his sweats.

Some might say that Illyana should know better than to just go snatching people up as if they have nothiing better to do than be at her beck and call, but no one tends to chastise her on it. Well, no one that she cares about, so they don't matter. Those she does care about? Tend to brush it off for whatever reason and just suffer. So it really only reinforces that this is Totally OK.

"It's not somewhere that most people want to spend any time in, so why would I bring them here?" Illyana asks, pulling out a tome and flipping through the heavy vellum pages for a bit before putting it back. She leans over so she can look down the aisle at him and arches a brow. "D&D. That's that… make-up-stories game, right?" His question about alightment gets a low chuckle before she turns back to the tomes. "Sure. They're just all my own laws." A pause. "Ramsey, if it says 'forbidden', maybe skip that one, hmm? Before you end up turning yourself into something worse than a lion-man."

"It's the Gygaxian ethical wheel, which has been getting new analysis by psychoanalyists and ethical philosophers lately." He says. "It uses four cardinal ethical directions, Good-Evil and Lawful-Chaotic. Good-Evil is really more just 'Altruistic-Selfish' and Lawful-Chaotic is sort of a social preference…" Doug pauses, and then he beams.

"Don't worry about me." He says. "The only thing I find tempting in this whole place is—" He rubs the back of his neck. "…Just tell me what you need to translate, Illyana, and I won't touch anything else."

"It sounds like some people have too much time on their hands." Illyana opines. "But then I suppose you can't expect just anyone to jump in and get involved when Bad Things (tm) are happening…."

"I can read most of these." Illyana notes when Doug asks her where she wants him. "But I'm only one person, so I figured you could help me cover more ground since most people can't read them to know if they're relevant or not. I'm looking for information on Splinter Lords, sometimes called Hell Lords, and Plokta and Sifror specifically. I mostly spent my time with Belasco's spellbooks, not his more informational books." And there are a *lot* of books here.

"How'd the reunion with Kitty go?" Illyana dropped the other girl off to pull off her prank, so of course she knows Kitty was by the apartment.

"Oh, well, we talked. Got baked, played Mario Kart and fell asleep." Doug says, "It was nice. She's, um. Well, she's dating Piotr, and everybody is worried he might take you being around me the wrong way." Doug gives an easy shrug, and begins scouring shelves. "Let's see… the Encyclopaedia Vampirica, the Malleus Maleficarium, the Iron-Bound Book of Shuma-Gorath… light fare." Doug says, before he says, "Hmmm, here we go, the Codex Daemonicus." He pulls it off the shelf, checks to see if it's going to eat him or drive him mad, and satisfied it won't, he flips it open.

"You look nice today." He opines, as he turns pages in the book.

Illyana Rasputina figures Doug's pretty safe unless he likes to read outloud. Then they might run into some problems. Magic runs much closer to the surface in Limbo, and so one doesn't always need to be a magus to draw upon its power. r
"Is that Doug-speak for 'you look funny'?" Illyana asks with a bit of a grin. She's got a few large books and she moves over to one of the tables so she can start to go through them. Research involves Time. Lots and lots of Time. "I'm doing my version of bumming around the house, so I don't need to worry so much that I might need to Do something. Be it beat down a bad guy or confront an asshole bully picking on a friend."

"Piotr's not going to do anyehing to you." Illyana says, waving that off. "But maybe he likes to see you squirm too. Could be a family trait." She jokes. "Besides, you'd need to be worried about me way before you'd need to be worried about him."

"No, it's Doug-Speak for you look nice." Doug says. "I like it. You seem more relaxed here, and… well, even if I'm quietly terrified, I can deal with it. I'm enjoying the adrenaline high." He keeps flipping through the book and says "Seems like all of these boojums are all descended from something called 'Chthon,' and since I've read my Lovecraft, I'm guessing that's bad. Let's see… Kierokk the Damned, lord of the N'Garai. Ooh, I bet he's fun at parties—"

He gives Illyana a thoughtful look, but then thinks better of it, as he continues flipping through the book. "Pilgrim the Inquisitive. Wow he has big, square teeth. "Siffror. Sounds like Swedish for 'Figure'… but that's 'Siffra'."

Illyana Rasputina has pulled over a stool so she can sit at the table, which is at more work-while-standing height than a normal dining table height. It means that her feet don't touch the floor and she kicks them a bit as she leans over the first book to carefully turn the thick, stiff pages.

Doug's observation has her lifting a shoulder in a partial shrug. "Well, this is the place that most feels like home." She admits. "I've spent like, fifteen years of my life here, so more than half. And I don't remember much before I came here because I was so young, so except for the four years I lived at the school… This has been it for me. Worts and all." The blonde looks over at him with a small, concerned frown. "Well if you start feeling something more ominous than just being terrified, let me know and I'll take you back to your apartment." Belatedly, she can't help but smirk a bit at the idea of something more ominous than being terrified. "I think he's called Lord of the Lifeless? There seems to be some kind of conflict going on between Siffror and Plokta that involves kidnapping kids. Something I'm not really a fan of." Gee. Wonder why.

Doug gives Illyana a thoughtful look for a time, but he keeps his thoughts to himself.

Finally, as he's turning a page in another book, he says, "We seem to be making a lot of people anxious. I got it from Rahne." He flips another page, and then murmurs, "They're all acting like there's something to be anxious about."

He might be grinning a little bit. But he's hiding it by keeping his head dipped.

"Rahne's in town?" That gets a furrowed-brow look of surprise from Illyana. She hasn't seen the judgmental werewolf since around Sophomore year. She doesn't sound exceptionally thrilled at the news, given the pair have never gotten along well. Illyana would still back the russet-haired young woman if needed, but Rahne's not someone she'd normally just hang out with.

The roll of Illyana's eyes can almost be heard. "Well. From what I've seen, everyone's always chasing some kind of romantic relationship. So of course it's got to be something like that." She turns the next page just a little harder in mild annoyance.

"She's a little wilder than she used to be." Doug says, "But I think she was expecting something a little milder than what she found when she looked me up—" He pauses, as if not entirely comfortable with the thought that in some way he might've somehow hardened over the years.

But then he flicks his gaze up, and then says, "Aaaah, what's this! I feel a change coming over me! Vun I haff not felt in many years!" He draws his arm over his face in what is either a dracula pose or a dab. "I am becomink… the Mutant Menace!" Then he prowls up behind Illyana as she flips through the book. "The Mutant Menace seeks innocent young maidens to terrorize! …You would not happen to know vhere I could find one? Blah!"

"Milder?" Illyana asks, quirking a brow. The teasing glint to her eyes is the only clue that she's refraining from making a comment about Mr. Mild Mannered Doug Ramsey. "Were you throwing a wild party when she came by?" She teases in a sing-song manner.

When Language Lad starts to pull his old (so, so old) routine, Illyana gives him a bland sort of look. "You know I can turn you into a bunny, right? Like, without trying too hard. Right now."

"I am told that if I vas a bunny I vould be adorable!" Doug says. Then, with admittedly ample time for her to brush him off, he puts his arms around Illyana from behind, and pantomines biting her shoulder. Yes, it's an old routine! But it's an old-routine that used to get a reaction, and when you're clowning, sometimes go with a classic!

"You drool on me…" Illyana warns as he makes with the 'biting'.

She doesn't throw him off this time, though. "A-dork-able is more like it." Comes that dry, mocking tone of hers. "At least you're not still sweaty. I probably should have dropped you in a bath first though. What's with the sweatband? I thought they stopped making those before I was born." Which admittedly, was only in like 2007.

"I don't like to get sweat in my eyes." Doug says, somewhat archly, before he says, "…A bath sounds nice. You've got to have one around here somewhere. But is it full of magma or demon blood or Sy'm or something?" He asks, with a rakish grin. "I'm not sharing a tub with him."

"It'd be fun to watch you try *not* to if I wanted to make you." Illyana says dryly as she slips down off of the stool and to the floor. She heads over towards a door, and Doug is fairly sure that whole wall wasn't there when he got here. When the blonde woman opens the door she pauses a moment, looking both ways before turning right and heading down the straight-out-of-a-fantasy/horror-movie stone hall that's lined with guttering torches. Doug catches sight of smaller demons that skitter out of sight as they make their way down deeper into the depths of the castle.

"I'm not sure what the demons like to bathe in, but *my* bath is safe for your oh-so-mundane sensibilities." Illyana assures him.

Doug plods along beside, rolling his shoulders. "Well I mean, it IS your castle, and you're the Supreme here," He says, borrowing terminology from AHS: Coven, "So really you can just have whatever you want." Well. Except friends and family, no wonder Illyana is drawn back to Earth. What good is power if you're lonely? At least that's how Doug would reason it out.

He does follow behind, casually. "So I mean - I'm morbidly curious what they do. I'm picturing demons sitting around playing checkers…"

There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the castle's layout. Or the path that Illyana takes. Even with his passive 'reading' of her, it doesn't seem like she's taking a well-known path anywhere, she just seems to be going 'forward' and occasionally that involves turning. For someone who is intrinsically linked to Patterns, it might be… disconcerting. Especially as he's not likely to be familiar with the fact that Limbo is eminently mutable. Things literally change around you between moment to moment when you're not looking.

Eventually they get to a pair of double doors that Illyana throws wide and within is something more akin to a Roman bath than, well, a bath. Steam rises off of the water and there is nary a demon to be found in the whole large area.

"They tend to pick fights more than play checkers. Most of them are very simpleminded, so it doesn't take much to amuse them. A lot of their focus is on eating and tormenting those weaker than them."

"Yeah, I know, I've got some holy water with orange oil in a spray bottle I keep stashed under my bed, and I'm using it to train them to stay off of the couch." Doug says. "Just give 'em a quick spritz and they're gone like a shot." …Well, maybe a little mean, but they are demons. And if Doug is bothered by it, he's not letting it show, because Illyana is being graciousness itself.

Once inside, Doug inhales the steam, and finds a place to sit, before he unlaces his sneakers and gets them and his socks off. He looks up, and then his cheeks pinken, "Ah, hm." he says. "I usually don't take a bath with my pants on, 'yana-"

"You're half undressed already." The demon queen points out in her oh-so-amused tone before she turns around, giving him her back. "I can leave if you'd rather." Illyana offers gracefully. "I've already trained them not to come into my bath."

If she feels bad or has any objections to Doug spraying the demons that wander through the apartment with holy water, she doesn't say anything. She might mentally note that might be why she doesn't like sitting on the couch anymore…

It's the smell of the orange oil, isn't it? He knew he added too much. Well, she can always do something to desecrate the couch later. Doug flattens his mouth into a line, and says, "It's fine." He turns, just a bit, and then reaches down to push down his sweats. He stands there, fingers in his hair, looking embarassed as all get-out. But he does cut a fine form. He's proud of it. He works hard.

Then, with a sigh, he wanders into the bath, making a blissful noise. "All riiiiiiiight~"

Illyana Rasputina can't see Doug with her back to him, but she's still very much in the room. Or maybe she can see him, being that whole mistress of the realm and whatnot. Who knows. Only after she hears him sigh his appreciation does she ask, still sounding amused as hell, "Is it safe to turn around now?"

Doug scoops up a double-handful of water and wets his hair down. "Mmmm?" He looks down at himself. "Well yeah, sure." He says. "Everything immoral's below the water line." He gives a sheepish grin. "But if you get too close, I'll splash you." Then he says, "I found something in those books, but I need to do more research. Plotka is like Mephistopheles — he grants heart's desires, in exchange for people's souls, and he's from the Dark Domain… but may have invaded Otherworld at some point? He's called the Mindful One, the Lord of Mere Wishes. There was also a prophecy, I think… a moon eclipsing a sun, and something about a better world to come. Like I said, I need to do more reading."

Illyana Rasputina doesn't move too close to the bath itself, out of consideration for Doug or fear of getting splashed isn't clear. She does turn around and then gestures with one hand, making a lifting gesture and the stone floor heaves upward as though it were made of clay, forming into a chair large enough for her to tuck her feet up under her as she sits down.

"Keiko, a woman I met, was apparently part of a cult dedicated to Plotka and then ditched. But she's still got some of the brainwashing going on, where the god is still good and just the group that had her was bad and getting god's will wrong." Illyana wrinkles her nose at the idea. "It sounds like you sell him your soul, he gives you your heart's desire, yeah. I'm not sure how the kids tie in yet." She drums her fingertips along the broad arm of her impromptu chair.

"Probably the same reason Belasco wanted you as a child. We're shaped by our experiences, and after awhile, whatever we become just isn't as good for whatever they need us to be. So you get them young, you make them into what you want—" He pauses. "Ah. Sorry." He looks around for a cake of soap, and then begins to wash himself, leisurely, whistling while he works.

"…I may have made a joke about using neurolinguistic programming to make your brother think he's a chicken." he says this while soaping up an armpit, "Rahne may have initially taken it more seriously than I intended."

Illyana Rasputina shakes her head. "No, at least on Sifror's side they're looking for thirteen specific kids. I'm not sure if Plotka's people just happen to grab the ones they want or if they're after the same thirteen or what." She doesn't get into the whys or whatfors of Belasco taking her. Her friends know she's been tainted by Limbo and what Belasco did to her, but she hasn't really gone into the nitty-gritty on how she's supposed to free Belasco's dread masters.

"'Neurolingusitic programming'?" Illyana looks dubious at Doug. "Also, then I'd have to turn *you* into a chicken. Which is much less adorable than a bunny." She points out.

Speaking of Doug's animal side, "Are you OK? The un-lioning didn't mess you up, did it?"

"It's a way for smug tech-heads to say 'hypnotism' without sounding like quacks." Doug says, "And I don't think I could actually do it. At leeast, I've never tried. And I wouldn't even if I could." He proceeds to lather up his hair, working up a good head of suds. "Well you know, aside from a taste for really rare steak and the urge to nuzzle you, I'm doin' okay I think!" He grins, brightly.

"You didn't have that before?" Illyana asks of his nuzzling instinct. "Part of me was kind of hoping you'd developed a fascination with laser pointers and string. Watching you play contortionist to lick yourself all over might have been amusing as well."

"I don't think most people think of you as much of a jokester, for all that you can be a clown." The blonde woman observes. "Which, for those of us that have been around you a while might be because your powers were kicking you into 'just the facts, ma'am' mode?" It's more thoughtful observation than anything else.

"On the other hand, sometimes when you can see the cloud over someone's head, you've just gotta lighten the mood." Doug finishes soaping up, and then he hunkers down, immersing himself, before he lifts himself bodily back out of the water with an "Aaaaaah" and a shake.

"Well I didn't think we were there quite yet. But I mean if you really want me to, I'll give it a try."

"I'll even let you rub my belly, but there's a random counter there, and if you hit less than or more than the allowed number I'll bite you." Doug leans his hands on the edge of the pool, and watches Illyana, his eyes shining with… something.

"To the laser pointers and string?" Illyana's smirk makes it clear she's purposefully misinterpreting him. "Just let me get you a cute pink collar with a bell on it first. Maybe some rhinestones."

The blonde curled up on the impromptu chair gives a snort of amusement. "'Let' me, huh? Sometimes I wonder if you even *know* the word 'no'." Comes the continued mocking.

Illyana's eyes narrow a bit however as Doug tenses, looking all mischievous. "Don't forget, I fight dirty." She advises.

"If I had to tell you no, I would," Doug says. "But I admit, if my middle name wasn't Aaron, it'd probably be 'Welcome'."

"Yeah?" Doug says. "Well whenever you're ready, try me. I mean, this is Limbo right? You're boss here. *Completely* in control."

"You're also probably not as much fun to give bellyrubs without the fur. I bet you'd still make fun noises though." Illyana says, relaxing a bit when Doug doesn't do anything like splash her. At least her demons aren't here, so she doesn't need to be quite so 'on' as the ruler of Limbo.

Illyana's amusement slips a bit as he brings up her being completely in control. She has more power here, more ability to inflict her will on others. But control? That's actually worse, the dark whispers of Limbo feeding the demonic aspects of her nature.

Doug pauses, and then says, "I seem to hit buttons by accident these days." His expression falters, slightly, and then he murmurs, "I don't know." He says, before he shifts, so that he's leaning with his back against the edge of the pool, arms out, "It might still be pretty fun."

Then he says, "…I'm sorry." Genuine contrition at making her uneasy, he can do.

The smile that Illyana gives him a thin, but it's at least genuine. Not something that happens very often. "We haven't known each other that long, and I've never been the most forthcoming about myself. My situation. And then so much has happened over the last… what, like six months for you?" And nearly seven years for her.

"A lot has changed." She admits.

Doug thinks about that, for a time. "That's the life we chose. Lifetimes of living in just a few years… and no chance to slow down. And if we tried, what would we do with ourselves." He is thoughtful, for a time.

"You only need to tell me as much about yourself as you feel like telling.

"I'm not going to throw some deep existential pining at you like your brother and Kitty have going on," Doug says, quietly, "But I may, ah… may have some 'like' going on, 'Yana. But those emotions are mine. You don't need to share them."

"You've been pretty clear on that front, Doug." Illyana says with very mild amusement, and some affection. "I'm not completely dense. And while you may try not to 'read' your friends out of respect, I admit I'd be surprised if you hadn't been trying to pick up on me, so I figure you already know that. Unless those kinds of things are too… mild? Obscure? To pick up on."

Illyana herself has been up-front about her lack of romantic interest. In anyone. It's certainly borne out with those he's seen her interact with. The closest she gets to a true emotional attachment, the kind of thing most people forge between friends, family and lovers is her brother. Even her attachment to her friends, like Doug and Kitty, isn't the same as one would see in more 'normal' people. And those she doesn't have an attachment to? They almost don't exist on her emotional radar.

"I know." Doug says, with an exhalation of breath, before he slowly sinks down to his neck. He takes on a more thoughtful, stoic mien.

"Just have to figure out what to do about it. That's all." He gives Illyana a small smile. "Penny for your thoughts?"

The question gives Illyana pause, and she's thoughtful for a long, quiet moment before finally speaking. "Wondering if there's any way to make this…" She gestures between the pair of them. "Easier for you. If I didn't know you understood me, I'd just leave." She admits. "I may not really 'get' romantic attachments, but obsession.. that's something I'm familiar with. And the two seem to have things in common, in my observation.

She plucks at the material of her dress at her knee. "Sometimes I wonder if I should just stay here. It keeps those I care about safe from me. It keeps the demons in line, which keeps others safe from them. Keeps me safer from them."

"And if you understand us," Doug says, "Then we'll know we don't want yout do that." He sighs, and gives Illyana small smile.

"My emotions are mine, Illyana. I can control them." He pushes himself up, now perhaps marginally less ashamed, before he goes looking for a towel, finds one, conveniently placed, and begins to dry off. "I could come up with any number of moral reasons why you shouldn't do that."

"But the most important reason is that we'd miss you." He looks at the scar running below his ribcage. "I got a form of that talk three years ago, after I got shot."

Illyana Rasputina hitches one shoulder in one of those half-shrugs she's prone to. "Just because you can do a thing alone, doesn't mean you must." The smirk that plays over her lips says she's quite aware that's a line that he's probably given her a version of before.

The blonde doesn't look away as he pulls himself from the hot water of the bath and grabs a towel from the stack, her manner lazy and content looking as she sits curled up across the way. Again, there's that silence before she speaks. "You were worried we'd get hurt trying to protect you?" While she's sure that part of it was about self protection, she doesn't see that as one of Doug's driving forces. As he said, the packed a lot of time into those four years.

"That if I got myself killed," Doug says, "By pushing myself too hard and trying to keep up with the rest of you instead of finding ways to contribute that best suited what I brought to the table," He says, as he briskly dries his hair, "I'd break a lot of hearts. That's why I stepped back, focused on my studies, and spent more time behind a computer than in the field."

"In a lot of ways I still feel really… ordinary. But I got to have this extraordinary life, and become tight with the most extraordinary people. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Illyana Rasputina's head tilts over to the side, considering. "It would have hurt us if you'd been killed. If any of us had." She admits. "And you're the easiest to point at and say 'Him. He's the weakest link.' But it would have been the work of a moment, and all of us are vulnerable in that."

When Doug remarks he feels ordinary, she chuckles. "Well, yes. From where you're standing. Because you're used to being you. You are always your own definition of normal." She notes.

As Doug finishes drying, Illyana gets up to her feet and the chair she's been lounging in flows back into the floor. She snaps her fingers, and magical energies swirl around Doug, leaving him clad in… well, a lot of black leather, that's for sure. "Come on. Let's see if we can dig up anything else that will help us keep these kids from being taken off to a terrible fate."

"I look like I'm set to go on a date with Lila Cheney." Doug says. "Also, Illyana, while romance may be dead? I don't mind the flirting, so…" He throws an arm around her shoulders. "Let's."

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