Summary:Illyana and Remy run into each other at Xavier's and catch up. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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It's a quiet Monday night over in the staff kitchen of the Xavier Institute. Most of the staff get their meals from the cafetiera on the regular, so the kitchen is just when someone feels like cooking or they want to whip up a late night snack.
But sometimes, it's where certain non-staff teleporters decide to poke about when they're feeling peckish and all Doug Ramsey has in his kitchen are dietician-approved snacks. This evening seems to be one of those times as the long-haired, leather-clad blonde has the 'fridge door open and is rifling through it's contents.
Someone's gonna end up with their tagged meal missing, just watch.
Illyana graduated last Spring, and then went radio-silent. Though that was overlooked between the post-graduation traveling some of the students did and the sorceresses propensity to just up and disappear without warning. Said disappearance eventually prompted the return of Piotr to the school, even though Illyana turned back up earlier this year. Looking much older than the 18 she was last year.
Remy had gotten back to the school on the previous evening. Having pulled up outside on a well-worn motorcycle that he'd soon left again upon once he'd gotten the address of where a certain southern girl had left the school to go on a bit of a hiatus. But, a few hours after that, he'd returned once again. His bike was parked just outside of the posh Xavier's garage, he'd been working on it all day getting it cleaned up after a long trek across the country to get back here and now? Well, now he's coming inside to rustle up some food.
From the doorway, Remy stepsclearly not expecting anyonehe stops short and spies Illyana at the fridge. He doesn't instantly recognize her either as she does look different from when he'd last seen her.
"Yana?" Remy's voice speaks out from the doorway. He's wearing a v-neck black tshirt and a pair of blue jeans over some black steel toed work boots, his hair is unkempt and long, but swept back to stay out of his face and he's sporting a fair amount of unshaven dark hairs across his jawline.
"Somethin' different about you." He says with a sly smirk while he starts to now walk into the kitchen, but with a slower pace to his step.
Illyana Rasputina's head comes up at her name, but it doesn't take her near as long to recognize Remy. Very few other people have his distinctive eyes and there's not a lot of Cajun drawl around the Institute. "Remy." She greets him in return with a tilt of her head, acknowleding the questioning intonation to her name.
Either opting not to get caught swiping someone else's noms, or changing her mind, the blonde woman snags a cola and lets the 'fridge closed. That's totally what she was there for in the first place. Honest. "Well, you know how a girl likes to change her look." She replies in the dry, mocking sort of manner that's always been her staple. "You been playing grease monkey?" She says, nodding to a few smudges on him. Her manner is friendly enough, but her eyes are rather more chilly than the last time they saw each other.
Once she responds, Remy's smirk turns into a slight grin and he glances down at his own hands then that do need a bit of a cleaning so he starts to saunter then over to one of the sinks in this fancy fancy kitchen. "Looks more den that t'me, Cheri." He says back to her once the water is running and the steam is coming up from the granite sink. He looks away from her to grab for some dish soap and then dribbles it over his hands. He looks back to her as he proceeds to wash them up and clean.
"More den just clothes and hair changes." He says at her again. "More like, experience." Once his hands are clean of the soap he shuts the water flow off and reaches for a hand towel, then turns around and leans back against the counter top while drying them.
"What kinda things been goin' on in your neck'a'da'woods?" He asks her, once more showing a playful grin. "I know for a fact that thats quite an interesting place after all."
Teleportation, especially the scale at which Illyana can do so, is really damned useful so even as a student she was called in to help transport the X-Men at times. So most of them are familiar with the generalities of her power and that it goes through a hell-dimension she calls Limbo where time tends to move a bit wonky. She tried to keep their time in that other dimension at a minimum, to avoid Belasco's notice but of course that just tended to spark rumors. So 'interesting' certainly describes it.
Illyana levers herself onto one of the stools at the kitchen island and cracks open her drink, a slight grimace touching her features at Remy's observations. "I got stuck in Limbo for… a while." Clearly, too damned long. "Eventually I took down the guy in charge that was keeping me there and came back." There's a lot of understatement in that, but the blonde's never been one to burden others with the details of her life's copious amounts of suck. "How about you? Just getting back from some time away?"
As Illyana replies, Remy sets the towel aside after folding it back up and then moves to start to gather a few items up. He's been gone a little while, but not long enough to forget where most things are so he's getting out the essentials to cook him up some stuff. Frying pan, some dishes, and moving toward the fridge then.
He glances back over to her then and shows her a pointed stare because he can tell she glossed over likely some pretty harsh stuff. "Glad you made it back t'us, Chere." He says in a low tone of his rumbly voice. "Wouldn't be the same around here without your brand of rock star, after all." He shows her another light smile then before he pops the fridge doors open and pulls out the items from within he needs, eggs, bacon and a few other things. Stuff he'd put in there this morning after a brief trip to the corner store down the road.
With the door shut, Remy starts back toward the stove. "I… uh… had some loose ends t'tie up back down in the ol' lands." He can be vague too. While sorting the items out he glances back to her. "Coulda used your help with that, lemme tell ya. You know how t'throw down." He smiles more widely to her then, but it fades pretty fast as he looks back to what he's prepping.
"Its all settled now, don't think my past is gonna be tryin' t'catch up with me again any time soon."
Illyana Rasputina might be paying a bit more attention to Remy's meal prep than is strictly warrented. Her own cooking ability is… almost completely non-existant above subsitance level. Unless you count hot cocoa from scratch.
"I'm staying down in the City, but Piotr's here, so I still drop in even though I'm not in school anymore." Illyana can't help the soft chuckle as he says the place wouldn't be the same without her. "I don't think everyone entirely agrees." She notes dryly. The sorceress still puts a lot of folks ill at ease. Even when they're willing to have her back. Downsides to those sensitive enough to pick up the demonic on her.
Illyana's amusement fades into a thin-lipped frown as Remy speaks about tying up his own loose ends. "But you went by yourself, didn't you." It's more observation than reprimand, but there's a hint of the latter in there. "We should have a celebration then, of putting the past behind us." As much as can be done.
It becomes pretty clear that Remy's prepping some kind of sandwich, as he's putting bread into the four slotted toaster to get that going once the eggs and bacon are cooking. He has to grin at her words though while he's doing all of this at the counter. "Since when do a group'a people ever agree 'entirely' on anything, Chere?" Remy asks as he then pauses and looks back to her.
"You got the hungers?" He asks her then, motioning to what he's got going on at the stove. "I whip you up one'a these too then. They don't got a name, per-se… I just call'em the Gambit Sandwich. Its got a simple good ring to it, for a simple man. Somethin' I been makin' since I was a lil ankle biter."
Bacon, eggs, cheese, and a smooshed potato, with no small amount of butter too.
With a sigh though, he shakes his head. "It weren't entirely on my own choice t'leave like I did, admittedly." He says then with a bit more concentration on his cooking. "Truth be told, I didn't choose t'vanish from here… like people assume I'm gonna do any given moment. I got bagged and thrown inta a van, if one really wants t'know how it went down."
There's a bit of a perk to Illyana's manner as Remy asks her if she wants any, followed by the nodding of her head. It's in the way she sits a little straighter, the way her expression relaxes a bit. 'Please' and 'sorry' both tend to be absent from her vocabulary, one of the many reasons that a lot of people find her trying to be around. "I don't know that I've ever heard anyone describe you as 'simple', Cajun."
Illyana's eyes narrow in annoyance as Remy fesses up to what happened. Not that she's got anywhere to direct it, but she's still not happy about hearing Remy got drug off. Then she pauses a bit, head tilting to the side. "When was this? Like… summerish of last year?" She worries her bottom lip a bit, brow furrowing. "Belasco dragged me back to Limbo last summer. After years of being safe here." She figured she'd just slipped up somewhere, but if someone else was found out about the same time… Well, it could still be nothing. But it could aslo be Something.
With the eggs and bacon cooked and deposited onto a plate, Remy's working on the potatoes next. He smiles just a little at her talk of him not being complicated but he just shrugs his shoulders inside of that black tee he's wearing for a response, he continues to cook and is showing a pretty high proficiency level at it, which is well known to anyone who's spent much time about him, he's a big fan of cooking.
"Nah." He says to her then. "This was… oh." He looks up then and closes his eyes. "New Years night." He says then. "I was comin' home from dat famous lil' tavern near da park in Manhattan. Got cornered and confronted by…" He glances back at her, a smile still on his lips. "Ol' ghosts." Then looks back to their food as he's got it almost ready to go now, sorting the toasted bread onto some plates.
"Technically, I agreed to the baggin' after I heard what it was all about. But they still decided they didn't wan' me knowin' where we were goin' t'meet this person. I'm not a big fan'a havin' a bag over my head, but then again, that probably don't shock too many folks."
He turns back around then offers Illyana a plate with one of the sandwiches on it, restaurant style so she can finish piecing it all perfectly together now she wants it and top it off with the toasted bread top. "For you, Boo." He says with a little grin for her before he goes back to finish his own up.
"Sounds like we got some comonalities in our shitty pasts comin' back t'get us, yeah?" He says then and there.
"Well now you're just making it interesting. I obviously need to get you drunk so I can get the whole story." Illyana says with only mild teasing.
There's one of her small, but real, smiles as he slides the plate in front of her, and a slight wiggle to her shoulders like some excited child that's at odds with her general mannerisms and apparent age. The endearment that's not his habitual 'cher' that he uses for everyone gets a huff of amusement. Much like 'please' and 'sorry', 'thank you' aren't often words she speaks either. Her four years at the shcool helped civilize her, but some demonic habits are a bit too ingrained.
"I should have known better. I ran away from him. Just letting me go would be seen as weak. And you can't rule Limbo and be seen as weak." Illyana remarks grimly of their past. She lifts her cold, pale gaze to his then. "You sure yours is done? We can make sure, if it's not." It's an offer, if he has any loose ends he'd still like to see tied up.
Once Remy's go this plate loaded up he does some quick clean up and then just huffs out a little short laugh at her words. "You already thinkin' ahead, Yana, thats why I've always been'a fan." He says that as he steps to the fridge and pops out two bottles of some dark and pricey ale. He snags up his plate and moves toward the table then to deposite those items, one of the bottles for her if she wants it.
"I'm pretty sure what I'm goin' through is all good'n done. Told them that my life is no longer there, all that jazz." He's definitely leaving out some parts of it. As he settles down into a chair beneaththe lamp over the kitchen's table he looks over to her. "I'm equally sure that ain't nobody with a right mind would look at you and think 'weak'. Anything but, point'a fact. I seen you fight after all, you're a force t'be reckoned with." He flashes her a sly grin then.
"Any juicy insights on whats been goin' on around here? I got a bit'a it from Rogue last night, but she's takin' a hiatus from this place, so it seems." He says those words with a bit of weight behind them, hinting at him not being too big a fan of that.
Illyana Rasputina starts into her sandiwch without waiting for Remy to sit down first. While her manners may be somewhat lacking, her appreciation of his cooking is pretty easy to pick up on. She gives him another nod as he drops off the ale for her.
"Most people don't." She acknowledges. Well, most that know her any rate. Those that don't can often make asumptions. "But demons, that's all they do. Look for anything that could be a weakness and try to take advantage. And to them, I play at being human too much." Demons both do and don't find her as scary as most humans do. They do, after she's forcefully put some fear into them, and then it fades, meaning she has to start the cycle over again. "They aren't always as impressed by someone who can fight. You have to do much worse things to them than threaten to kill them to make them fear you."
Illyana chuckles as Remy fishes for dirt. "Well, I've been getting the play by play on Piotr and Kitty's blossoming lovelife." She says in that mocking sort of manner, a smirk curving her lips.
Remy enjoyus his own cooking while he also sips from his drink and stares across the table to where Illyana is, giving her his full attention because what she says is rather interesting a topic after all; even if he has trouble wrapping his head entirely around it all. "Promise me somethin', will ya?" He asks her then, letting a pregnant pause carry the question out a bit. "When I leave this world t'the after life, that you'll find me in whatever Hell I end up in, and you'll bring me t'the safest part'a it so these demons don't make my stay that much worse, yeah?" He's kidding a bit, in that style of his and he shows her a little smirk to punctuate that. "I admittedly wanna know more about your Limbo place, Chere… but I also pretty sure I wanna be able t'put my head down on the pillow t'night and actually be able t'sleep too." He says, sliding a grin over his lips before he glances down to his food again.
The talk of Kitty and Piotr makes him look right back up, and then he just… laughs. Rare is it for Remy to laugh, but he can't stop himself. He even leans back in the chair out from under the table's light and has to raise his right hand up to cover his mouth and stubble covered chin. When he settles again he glances to the exit of the kitchen to make sure nobody is coming in, then looks back to Illyana. "That poor girl. Thats… thats like copulatin' with a coke machine!" He says, laughing yet more then.
Illyana Rasputina can't help but chuckle at Remy's request. "Remy, are you asking me to take care of your immortal soul?" She teases him. "Because souls don't usually come to Limbo. I have had someone try to convince a former cultist to follow me instead of the Splinter Lord she's *currently* following. Maybe I should reassess my position on that." Her flippant manner and smirk says she's kidding. Probably. "Limbo's not really somewhere you go for a picnic." She agrees. "And without a solid grounding in the occult and magical theory, it can be a bit much for someone to understand." Like how the realm is malleable. Both physically and temporally.
The blonde starts to snicker along with Remy as he breaks out into laughter, but when he calls Piotr a coke machine she leans over to try to kick him in the shin with those heavy boots of hers. "Hey! That's my brother we're talking about!" She protests, though still with a smirk. "And I'm just going to sit here in my 'innocent younger sister' box safe in the knowledge that they will NEVER have sex. Just like my parents NEVER had sex." She gives a sage nod.
"The worst part, honestly, was both of them asking me for advice. Demons don't do dating, y'know? And then since I needed a place to stay and moved in with Doug Ramsey, some people are convinced that something must be going on there, too." She shakes her head.
Remy is taking another drink from the bottle of booze while he listens to her reply to him, he's gotta smile around the drink for a second or so too as he's still entirely amused by what he'd just heard, but he's managing to collect himself up again and he even jumps when she tries to kick him. "'Ey now, I'm fragile, Chere!" He says back to her, jesting of course, being that 'doof' as Rogue had called him.
While moving to set his bottle down again he points at her two soft times with his first two fingers, then sets the bottle back down onto the table. "Thats what I'm talkin' about too, Boo." He starts. "Ya know stuff about the afterlife, you're the closest thing I got t'a life line, so t'speak. Hopefully it be a long time from now any way, maybe you'll have learned some new tricks by then…. I'm just sayin', keep it in your mind t'help this southern boy out once the cold grip'a death come down onta his shoulder."
He takes a second to shake his head then and consider the rest of what she says about herself and Doug too. He looks up at her then and raises his eyebrows, his brow wrinkling a bit up to his hairline. "You'n Dougie, eh?" He's now grinning once more. "And if Kitty starts hobblin' around with a walker like from an old folks home, then you've got all the answers ya need right there." Now he's definitely being a doof! For the fun of it, of course.
"How id Dougie though?" He then asks. "An' if you say there's nothing goin' on there, I believe you. Sounds like everybody be pairin' off around here though… if I must say."
"Maybe you should take to Warren if you want a Guardian Angel." Illyana jokes, though her manner is a bit more somber. Because certainly she does know more about the afterlife than most of the X-Men. And things like taking posession of Remy's soul are sort of in her wheelhouse. Like so many of the magics she doesn't let herself touch. Dark, seductive magics.
The picture Remy paints gets a grimace from Illyana and he earns a baleful look. "Now *i'm* the one that's not going to be able to sleep tonight." She complains. She can't even get a telepath to brain bleach her, her mind tends to be too twisty for them to navigate.
"Doug's fine. He's been living the high life, just him and his tortise doing data analysis for SHIELD and being bored out of his skull. And no, there really is no Doug and me any more than there's a you and me." She says rather emphatically. "He's my friend, and my friends mean a lot to me, but this whole romantic thing makes about as much sense to me as magic circles do to you."
Remy just shakes his head side to side when Warren is brought and he drops his eyes to the little bit left of that potatoy eggy bacony cheesy buttery sandwich he'd made. "No no, I don't go to Warren for nothin'. He too pretty of a man for me to go see about stuff like that, I only go to him if I need t'meet some underwater models or some such." He's grinning again then. "But those days are behind me now. I'm a respectable type now. Here to be the hero now!" He sits up higher and taller in her seat now and puffs out his chest inside that black tee he's sporting.
With another sly dog of a grin he settles his elbows back onto the edge of the table and takes another swig of his drink. After setting it down once more he mocks some surprise. "You and I are not a thing?" He says back to her. "Well this is news t'me, Chere… I'm gonna have t'change the Christmas cards I put on early order…"
With a little smirk at himself then he shakes his head and leans back in his chair, apparently all fooded out for now. "Dougie needs t'get more excitement in his life, get away from that computerin' stuff a bit. He bored cause he's too plugged inta that Matrix, but not the cool kind with the black leather jackets and shades. No, the soul devourin' kind, that all the teenagers are obsessed with." He does a mocking gesture of texting with a cell phone then.
"I hear Warren's pretty enough that sometimes guys forget they're straight, so I guess I can understand if you want to avoid him." Illyana says, clucking her tongue at him teasingly.
The blonde has also finished eating, managing to clean her plate. Food in Limbo is awful, so she takes advantage of eating on Earth side. Taking another long swallow of her drink she follows that with a snort of amusement at the idea of Remy sending Christmas cards. "I hope they're secular ones. The religious ones burn my fingertips." She's joking, right? Her manner is jovial enough.
"I don't think that's entirely by choice. His powers make him really good behind a computer and not so great in the field so that's where they stick him." Though that reminds her, "He got turned into a lion-man the other week. He was very fuzzy." She pauses a moment. "He kinda didn't want to take the antidote."
Remy just has to smirk at the added bit about Warren and dip his chin in a light single nod. "That must be it, yes." He says with a little grin hinted at his expression before he crosses his arms over his stomach and holds the back of eithe rof his biceps.
"I would never force religion upon you, Chere." Remy then says as he leans there back in his chair. "I got much too much savvy t'do such a thing. Besides, not like I'm the most religious person in the world any how. No no… My Christmas Cards usually involve me, in a gawdy sweater with trees and little reindeer upon it. Totally neutral and based around the commercialism of the holiday alone. Ya know… jewelry and cars wrapped in giant red bows."
Remy then grins at the bit more about Douglas. "Weep little Lion Man you're not as brave as you were at the start?" He quotes an older song. "I would very much love t'have seen him in such a state. But… I think he probably mae the wise choice. Probably a lotta fuss dealin' with that much fuzz'n'all. Have to consult Nightcrawler on that though… Or Beast, I suppose." Remy particularly likes to get under Beast's irritation level.