2019-06-15 - I Taste Dead Things

Summary:

Late night diner encounters. Jason stops in to do breakfast-for-dinner while others have their sights set on pie and ice cream.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sat Jun 15 04:36:02 2019
Location: RP Room 3

Related Logs

None

Theme Song

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illyana-rasputinajason-toddpiotr-rasputincarin-taylor

It's really late. The only thing open are the all-night drive-throughs and a few diners. This is one, and it's likely been around since the early 70s. And hasn't had a remodel. The tables are faded, the vinyl booths cracked, the linoleum flooring's color forever dimmed by the amount of dirt.

Certainly, Illyana looks out of place here and the staff of the mostly-empty restaurant keep glancing her way somewhat nervously. The blonde has some cherry pie and a cup of coffee along with a binder that she's leafing through. The pages have images of houses and writeups. She's been visiting some of them, one of which was nearby.

Wearing a lot of black leather accented in silver chains, spikes and arcane symbols, the metal/goth look isn't really in keeping with the blast-from-the-past diner. The faintly dark, eerie aura about her means the waitress isn't keen on having to refill her coffee when it gets low.


The door to the diner swings open, and in strides a regular. The waitress flashes him a small smile and waves to him as he offers a bit of a tired nod in reply. The handsome youth is dressed in tight, dark jeans and battered black boots, along with a faded 90's 'Bush' t-shirt, and a dark Padres baseball cap. A brown leather jacket finishes off the look, and conceals his always hidden pistol. He's also sporting a mostly healed black eye.

He slides onto a stool a few down from Illyana, nodding to the server. "Usual, thanks." Soon enough a cup of coffee is set in front of him, and the order is sent back into the kitchen. He glances sidelong at Illyana, his interest peaked. His gaze dips down her before settling curiously on the binder.


Illyana Rasputina glances over as the door rings, that quaint alert that someone has entered. She sips her coffee as half-lidded eyes appraise Jason as he strolls in. And probably not in the manner that he's used to. Eventually her gaze settles on the black eye. "Looks like you zigged when you should have zagged." She offers in an off-hand manner as her attention turns back to the binder.

Keen eyes might notice the WAND logo stamped into each page. It lists location, age of the building, a bunch of other facts and figures, including a threat level. He might need to get pretty close to see the outline of paranormal disturbance the site is being held for.


"Well, the other guy got knocked out when he should have walked away," he replies with a chuckle. He does notice the WAND logo, and he considers that as he adds a bit of cream to his coffee. He brings it to his lips for a long sip before he plucks his baseball cap from his head. He has dark, dark hair with an odd streak of white near the front that does not appear dyed.

"That the new WAND uniform?," he teases softly. "Not making fun of you. If it is, then my compliments to the designer. If not? Well, shit. Compliments to you, then."


Piotr really is not stalking his little sister. This just happens to be one of the restaurants that they visited now and again. "They have cherry pie and ice cream here. It is very good." he is saying to the red head that is with him as he opens the door for Carin. "You have still not been vetted to school?" he asks her with a lift of a brow in concern.

The large Russian's accent is thick, and he's dressed far more conservatively than his sister. A black t-shirt fits snuggly to his chest, and a pair of blue jeans along with brown leather boots. "The hamburger is also very good. And they have all-night breakfast."


Illyana Rasputina chuckles and lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. She might still be holding judgement on him getting beat up. A small smirk plays about her lips.

When WAND is mentioned she looks back over to him and arches a brow. Not everyone is familiar with the less-well-known arm of SHIELD, and it causes her to narrow her eyes a bit in consideration. "I'm not with WAND, so definitely not their uniform." She leans slightly towards him, as though sharing in a secret. "I'm not really a uniform type." Sure, she wore the Xavier uniform for a few years, but that was a long time ago for her, and she's very unlikely to go back to it.

when the bill rings again and the very large Russian walks in, Illyana's chilly gaze warms and the smirk curves into a smile. "Dobryy vecher, brat." Her English doesn't hold any particular accent, but her Russian is fluent.


Carin is not exctly sure how she ended up here! Piotr ran into her when she was out on the town herself, coming back from a small shopping expedition (to Goodwill, because she hasn't quite gotten used to having money for new clothes yet, thus the bag she's carrying). And then there was Piotr, and she remembered he was nice from when she was at the house, then, well…somehow this ended up being an ice cream and pie run. Being a speedster and still having a teen metabolism set to 'all ahead full', she will not turn down food.

"Um, yes. Jean passed me. I was going to move in with Cessily, but she ended up moving out, so I've kinda just been…just me and stuff. I might end up with Noriko, but I'm not sure if she's got a roommate, and she probably doens't really want one if she's got the room to herself…" The slender redhead frowns a bit. "Um, but I've got a place to crash that's totes better and stuff, so yay?" She's dressed in what can charitably be described as a fashion disaster…a pair of cut off denim shorts, a bright pink shirt that has a picture of a little cartoon frog on the front, and a shiny ruffled skirt in green that doesn't go at all with the purple converse she's wearing. Can you tell she's used to just grabbing what fits that she can afford?


"Pity. I bet you could pull off all kindsa uniforms," the young man replies in a conspiratorial whisper. He glances back over his shoulder when he hears the thick Russian accent, bristling briefly as if expecting…something other then Piotr. He arches when he hears Illyana toss that out, and he sighs to himself. "Familiar?," he asks in fluent Russian. Hell, his inflection even has a Moscow accent!

He glances over the two new arrivals, and he brings his coffee to his lips for a long, long pull.


"Privet, brat." comes Piotr's response, actual surprise on his face when he finds himself looking at his sister and there's a glance to the young man with him, and there's a furrowing of brows as he tries to place him - no, he's not one of the usuals Illyana pals around with. However, that's lost when he is listening to Carin. "Then you do not plan to attend school?" he asks Carin curiously.

But there is an introduction to be done. "Carin, this is my sister, Illyana. Illyana, this is Carin. She is someone I met recently. New to the city." he explains.

"I was out for walk after moment, and saw her shopping. Decided to invite her to have ice cream. Or burger." If anyone knows that Piotr's been mopey they last several days, it's his baby big sister.


Illyana Rasputina's gaze slides back over to Jason and she smirks at his… compliment? Insinuation? Either way, it doesn't seem to bother her but nor does it have her tittering like a schoolgirl.

Pale blue eyes narrow a bit as Jason has that, admittedly mild, reaction to hearing Piotr's voice and then her brows go up again in surprise as he replies in kind. Illyana's accent is far more country, towards Siberia, though it has some English edges mixed in since it's been her primary language since she was seven. "Quite." She returns, gesturing with her chin towards the big man. "My big brother." Even if Illyana looks a few years older than him.

With Piotr comes over to do introductions, the blonde nods at Carin. As Illyana hasn't been at the school for a while, it's unlikely the New Girl has heard any of the rumors about her. "Hey." Somewhat belatedly, she realizes that Piotr is likely waiting for her to introduce Jason. Gesturing to the big man, she looks over to Jason. "This is Piotr." She looks back to the big Russian and shakes her head. "I don't know his name. He's just imagining me in different types of uniforms." Her tone is dry and she's smirking a bit. Like maybe she's egging on a conflict. Just a bit.


"Oh, totally staying at the school! I meant rooming there. I mean, they have roommates there, right?" she says uncertainly. The extremely pale girl peers over at the others a bit shyly and waves a little. She hasn't really heard of Illyana much at all…but, well, the gothy outfit definitely stands out. She eyes the infamous (?) Mr. Todd, looking like she's unsure if Illyana is kidding or not. I mean, he COULD be one of those guys who just comes up and starts offering to buy outfits for a lone girl by herself or something. For 'photography'.

She's run into some of those, at least. Then again, the speedster is as striking in her way with the pale alabaster skin, coppery red hair and the large green lightning bolt tattooed across half her face. "Um, nice to meet you, Illyana….weird clothes guy…." she says uncertainly.


Jason glances between the three with a small, lopsided grin. At that point a large plate of bacon, eggs and waffles shows up in front of him. The bacon comes on a small, seperate place, and he sets it in between him and Illyana non-chalantly before he begins to smear butter over his waffles. He leans back against the counter a bit as the others make their way closer, and he nods as he hears Illyana's name…and then the 'introductions' occur.

"Right. Jason. And I was, yeah. But if anything I say makes her want to slap me or tell me to fuck off, she's free to do so." He says it easily enough, glancing back over ay Illyana. "…But I saw that grin," he teases. "Anyways, nice to meet you, Piotr." He says all of this in English in a Staten Island accent, mostly faded.

If they saw him in his costume he would be infamous. As a 'normal' young man with a mostly healed black eye, however, he is unrecognizable.


There's a frown as Piotr hears his sister's words about the man. And when Carin speaks up, that frown deepens. Maybe Illyana is going to get that conflict that she's wishing for. "Perhaps, then, we should find a place to sit." he says finally as he glances to Carin. "If you would like to sit together, or join the others?" There's a pause of a thought.

And after that moment, he adds for Illyana's sake. "You are.. thirteen in three months?" he asks. "We should plan your party. I remember you like horses. Perhaps Dani will provide Brightstar."

That smile to his sister is thin, amused, and totally a 'gotcha' moment.

Point: Piotr.


Illyana Rasputina looks over as the bacon is put generally between herself and Jason and why yes, thank you, she'll just… help herself to some of that. Mmmm bacon. She's still chewing on the piece when Piotr decides to bring up her technical age and chokes on it a bit.

Honestly, that's something for the record books. It's not often that something throws the blonde splinter lord quite so obviously. Reaching for a napkin, she wipes at her mouth and then her hands with a narrow-eyed gaze at her brother. It is however, lacking the all-to-real danger that often come when she wears that expression.

Illyana's immediate response is to say something dark and cutting, and she has to bite her lower lip from doing so. Because it *is* Piotr. It gets him a lot of passes. "I'm pretty sure Dani will take me for a ride whenever I might want one." She says instead, giving Piotr saccharine sweet smile. It takes a lot of damned willpower not to say something about all the birthdays she had that went uncelebrated.


Carin is now staring a bit at Illyana, obviously trying to reconcile that she's not challenging the age given but is /obviously/ not that age in looks. "Wow, you developed totes early…I mean, like…wow." she says, looking slightly envious. She's distracted a bit by Jason's proper introduction as she nods at him, still…well, she's pretty much hiding a little behind Piotr unconsciously. Not completely, but she seems more than a little unsure of herself. "Well…as long as you'll actually fuck off if she wants you too…." Carin says. Her own accent is defintely Midwest, with a faint hint of Chicagoland to it.


The man with the white stripe in his hair blinks at the question about Illyana's birthday, and he glances over at her. "Now, that sounds like an older brother trying to tease," Jason admits with a chuckle. "I technically have an older brother, but when he teases me I kick his teeth in. But…Dick's an asshole." He nods when Illyana snags some bacon, as that was his intention.

Jason slides the mug out for a refill before he looks to Piotr and Carin. "Why don't you two join us at the counter? If you can fit in a stool, big man? Late night food is on me." He's a big flush with minor cash after maiming some drug dealers earlier in the evening, after all. He glances over at Carin and nods with a chuckle. "I'm an asshole about a lot of shit, but not when it comes to making girls legit uncomfortable. So…yeah. Besides, she looks like she is more then capable of making me -very- aware if I piss her off."


There now that it's settled and Illyana no longer seems threatened, all is well. At the invitation to join the bar, the large Russian glances back to Carin. "If you would like to?" he asks her a gentle hand placed on her shoulder for a moment before releasing her, his attention returned to the others.

"If you are not here with him, Illyana, what has brought you here?" he asks, his attention falling on the book that she has brought with him, and his lips pull into a thin line.


Were they at Xavier's, Illyana might 'fess up to Carin about her wonky age. But not out here with the 'civvy' present. Because really, it doesn't matter. She does seem a bit amused about the whole 'Jason leaving her alone if that's what she wants', and when Jason says it looks like she can take care of herself she tips a thankful nod his way. Turning a bit on the counter stool she sticks out one of her feet with those heavy-soled boots. "Good for walking *and* kicking ass." She agrees. When Jason offers to pay she looks to her brother and points at him. "I like him." Money is not something she tends to have much of.

When Piotr goes eyeing the binder, she rolls her eyes a bit. "Doug got 'indefinitely reassigned' and so I was looking for somewhere else to live." Apparently, on her list are 'haunted houses'.


Carin hesistates slightly, then nods at Piotr's question. "S-sure…" She promptly claims the stool on the other side of Illyana from Jason (absolutely no supspiciousness there), then peers at Illyana. "Yeah, she totally does." she agrees with Jason after a moment, wiggling on her stool. She perks. "Oh, you're looking for a roommate?" Because of course she has nooooo idea what she'd be getting into with that sort of thing. Demons redoing the table decorations with skulls and candles and such. Hogging the Netflix. "Um, well, I'm not gonna turn down a free meal." she says, snagging a menu. "Um, I guess…cherry pie?"


"Huh. Choosing where to live off a list like that? I like the way you think. Cool thing about living in New England is most of these places are haunted as shit," Jason offers non-chalantly. "Not really…my field of expertise, but I do love horror movies. Also love that kinda…spooky history, you know?" He shrugs a well-muscled shoulder and picks up his refilled coffee, taking a sip.


Illyana Rasputina gives Carin a nod as the pale-skinned woman sits next to her. Honestly, most people would choose the furthest seat from her, given the dark, eerie air that hangs around the blonde. The question of a roommate gets a slight shrug. "More a place to stay. I was crashing at a friend's place but, yeah." He's not around anymore.

Illyana looks over to Jason and chuckles at his observation. "It'll have the upside of free rent. Which is about what I can afford." Of course, her clothes do *not* look like someone who shops for what they can afford. Like oh, someone else sitting at the counter here. It helps when you can just conjure some stuff.


"Sooo…you like haunted gothic stuff? Like, the neat old places that have the gable things and gargoyles and stuff like that?" the speedster wonders, watching with interest as the waitress moves off to cut her a slice of pie. "I mean, yeah, haunted stuff is probably hella cheap. Though occasionally you get creepers. I heard a bout a house where some guy called the Watcher kept sending the people who bought it creepy letters about watching them and always knowing what they were doing in the house, with details and stuff."


For some reason or other, Jason doesn't seem put off by Illyana's aura. In fact, if she can feel things like that…she can no doubt feel something magically odd about him. Dieing and being ressurected can leave weird marks, after all. "He works idly on his waffles as they chill at the counter. The coffee seems to be picking him up a bit, though it could also be the company.

"I know what you mean. My place is rent controlled, or I would have a roommate, too." Sure, that's a way to explain his subway station hideout! He glances over at Carin, and then over at Illyana.


Illyana Rasputina glances over at Carin and ponders how to answer her question. She doesn't like to lie, but twisting words until the meaning dances to her tune is perfectly alright. "It's more that it's something I've got some… history dealing with." The blonde smirks as the speedster talks and slowly chews on her own pie as she listens.

Reaching over to 'steal' another piece of bacon from Jason's plate, she briefly brushes against him and that gives her pause. She turns, like, whole body turns and looks at him with those cold, pale blue eyes with that gaze that seems to see inside a person. Her lips part and she draws in a long, slow inhale before her brow furrows and eyes narrow. "You taste of death." She murmurs quietly.


"History, huh…" the redhead says slowly, then watches as Illyana comments on Jason being "deathy."

Carin's first thought (internally): Huh he doesn't look gothy.

Maybe it's some sort of gothdar that Illyana has.

Her pie arrives about that point and, well, the girl just….devours it. In the rapid forkfuls that speak of someone who regularly had to eat quickly or risk losing it, as she hunches over the plate a little bit.


He is about to make some wry remark when she brushes him, and then he hesitates when she stares at him and says that. "Guess I need to switch my deoderant," he mutters, brushing his fingers back through his hair as he idly looks down into his coffee cup. Jason glances sidelong at her before he clears his throat. "What do you mean?," he asks after a moment, though it is clear his social 'shields' are going up, and the young man is closing off a bit in a practiced way.


The lack of table manners Carin might be showing is, for the moment, forgotten by Illyana. Her attention is on Jason, because most things that taste of Death end up… wrong. And she hadn't noticed anything particularly off about him in the time they've been here. She can see him starting to distance himself, but her own social skills are poor at best so setting him at ease is likely to go terribly wrong.

Illyana taps the binder in front of her, the one that he recognized the WAND logo on. "WAND, haunted houses, magic is sort of my thing." She points out. "Especially magic of the dark and dangerous type, and you've got the scent of it on you." Her brow furrows a bit. "But…" Her words just trail off as she turns the interesting puzzle that is Jason over in her head.


Bright green eyes watch from where that poor pie is being massacred, as Carin flicks her gaze between the two, frowning uncertainly. WAND? LIke a magic wand? And she's a magic goth. Of course she is! She senses the change in attitude from Jason, however her expression going back to becoming watchful.


Jason gives the door a brief glances, as if the man is considering getting out of there as the conversation turns towards his 'oddness'. He picks up his baseball cap and worries at it a bit with his hands. "I had a near death experience," he lies. "Real near. It…I don't know…changed my life a lot. Could be that?" He shrugs and glances back over at Illyana, though he is having a hard time looking her in the eyes.

He glances briefly at Carin, trying to se if she is in on this, too. Doesn't seem like it, though.


Illyana Rasputina's brother *did* just introduce them. That Piotr knew Carin and it sounded like the speedster is part of Xavier's is why Illyana isn't being particularly circumspect about things.

The blonde's gaze follows the slide of Jason's gaze to the door, flicks down to where he grabs his cap. Her mouth presses into a line. "If this is something you want me to drop, I can." Mostly because he hasn't set off more alarming warning bells. "But it's also something I've got a lot of understanding of and information on, and I don't scare easy." With eyes like those, cold and in a way, empty, it's certainly believable.


Carin remains quiet. Her pie, it is slain, as her fork scrapes against the plate, getting the last little bits off it to munch down on. But on the other hand, she can certain sense the sudden tension from both her neighbors and she's not sure what's going on, exactly. Her eyes just keep alert, flicking between the two, as she shifts a little bit on her stool, the cheap cushion squeaking softly. This was a bad time for Piotr to need to go to the bathroom, possibly!


Jason considers for a long time, before he shrugs a bit. He figures he can tell a bit without actually linking his secret identity…since the public doesn't know the truth of that anyways.

"Lots of weird shit. Basically…I was a vigilante as a kid. Fought crime in a costume…the whole nine. One of the masked villains got ahold of me and murdered me. Stone cold killed me. Dead. A few years later I woke up in my coffin and had to dig myself out." His tone is casual, but strained. He turns his hand over, showing old scars on the knuckles.

"I died but came back. Don't live the life I lived back then, anymore. That is…maybe what you're feeling."


Illyana Rasputina's lips press together a bit as she listens to the story. She can hardly call him out for doing such a reckless thing as a child, given some of the antics she and her classmates got into.

When Jason turns his hand over, she gives him a glance as she reaches out towards it, clearly giving him the chance to tell her 'no'. It's not something she gives everyone. Not that either of the other two are aware of that. "Yes, I'd say that would do it." She looks up at him again, her eyes narrowing as they search his. "You still have your soul." She seems a bit surprised by that.

As though remembering Carin on the other side of her, the blonde turns enough to look over her shoulder. "We're good at keeping secrets, right?" That seems more like a warning to Carin than a reassurance to Jason.


The slender speedster feels like she should be eating popcorn or something at this point, her eyes a little wider after Jason's explanation. Oookay. This is….this is different. He seems /really/ serious about it, so if it's a joke, he's doing a damn good deadpan, she thinks.

In fact she's so focused on it that she jumps a little bit when Illyana suddenly turns around to face her and asks that question. "Oh. Yup. No worries." She makes a little 'zip!' motion with her fingers over her lips, then drops her hands into her lap.


He doesn't stop her from reaching out. He frowns a bit at her words and then nods a bit. "Yeah. I mean…I guess. I don't know anything about souls or anything like that." Jason shrugs and glances between Illyana and Carin and back again. He tries to give a non-chalant shrug at her mention of secrets, though it is certainly a worry. Jason doesn't go any further into it, though.


Aside from anything on the costumed vigilante side, Illyana figures no one needs someone talking about how they managed to meet someone that came back from the dead. Especially if they start pointing him out in a crowd.

Illyana's touch is light, her fingers decorated in silver rings. Her fingertips trace over some of those pale lines and there's a faint tingle along his skin. They're close enough he can see the signs of old scars on her hands as well. Much older than his, and calluses on her palms that would indicate she works with them in some manner.

"I do." The blonde's tone is sure, steady on the subject of souls. "I'd like to take a better look at yours." She admits, her gaze moving from his hands back to his eyes. "But I'm not going to force it. You don't show signs of being corrupted."


Souls. Right. Okay, Carin has nooooo idea what's going on precisely. She was starting to wonder if this was some sort of secret gothy game people play or something when they're interested. She admits, asking to see someone's soul before the first date is…new. But hey! Illyana is an early developer, maybe she's…developing…okay, she's just killing that thought riiiight there.

She's not gonna say boo right now. Soul poking is probably pretty important and not to be interferred with. Though if it goes straight into goth mating rituals she's outta here.


Jason clenches his jaw a bit at the light touch, and there's a look in his eyes as if he isn't exactly used to a positive touch from another person. He doesn't really know what to do with it, so he sits there in silence for the moment. "Maybe, but not in public," he grunts in reply, shrugging. "Seems kinda…I don't know. Intimate?"

He offers another glance at Carin. "How's the pie?"


Illyana Rasputina's touch pulls away slowly and then she folds her hands on the counter a short distance from his. She can tell that it makes him twitchy, but from her own experience she knows that even though it makes you uncomfortable, there's something in a person that craves it.

The blonde's laugh is soft and she tilts her head in a nod. "Definitely not in public." She agrees. "Not normally something I'd talk about in an open space but…" She glances around. "It's pretty empty and I get the feeling if I tracked you down to bring it up later, you'd feel a bit cornered." She doesn't comment on the intimacy. Maybe she doesn't think it needs commenting on.

As Jason moves the subject away from death and souls, Illyana slides the rest of her pie over next to Carin's practically washed-clean plate. "Probably not what you were expecting for tonight. Don't worry, it can get weirder." That hardly seems reassuring.


"Uh….right." Carin says, her eyes dropping to the pie. "It's really good. Yeah." she says after a moment, peering between the two. After a moment, metabolism wins out over awkwardness as she starts digging into the remains of Illy's pie as well. "So is this, like, normal then for you, or is this a weird night in general?" she offers, talking with her mouth partially full befor she swallows.


"Nothing wrong with getting a little weird sometimes," he teases, falling back into the flirting to try and get more comfortable. "We can exchange numbers and meet up for some…uh…soul-gazing or whatever." He sets his baseball cap back down again now that it becomes clear he isn't fleeing. He glances over at Carin again.

"This is a pretty average night for me, though the blonde beauty looking into my eyes is new," he replies with a lopsided grin.


Illyana Rasputina watches Carin tear into the remains her pie with amusement, sipping at her coffee before answering. "If I told you *why* this is a weird night for me, you probably wouldn't believe it." There's a distinct lack of demons for it to be a normal night for her. "But I don't meet guys that get my interest very often, no." It's the truth, but she phrases it like that as she smirks to play along with Jason's flirtatious teasing. With Piotr having gotten called away, it's safe from his glowering!


Carin rolls her eyes at Jason's cheesey line as only a teenage girl can, though her lips quirk in a faint smile. She turns her attention to her next trick, which is making the second piece of pie disappear, though this time she's a bit more interested in the conversation too, enough that she slows down a little bit. Okay, they're totally flirting now? Right. Maybe she should…um, distract…PIotr? That seems like a good thing. If he comes back, she will totally distract him.

Until then, it's pretty darn interesting to observe.


"Well, I don't mind being a rarity," Jason replies with a chuckle. He finishes off his coffee and waves off the offer to refill it. "So, you don't have an accent like your brother. Did you grow up mostly around here then, or…?," he asks curiously. He pushes the remaining bacon over towards Illyana, likely full.


Since she gave up her pie to Carin, Illyana will accept the bacon with a nod. She chews on a piece before she answers. "I haven't lived in Russia since I was about seven. I've mostly spoken English since then, so the accent's worn off. I went to high school up in Westchester." A glance over to Carin. Yes, *that* school in Westchester. "But I've spent most of my life… elsewhere."

'I've spent most of my life in Hell' is a great conversation starter, but tends to make people think you're crazy or scare them off.


Carin honestly was kind of assuming Illyana went to the school…or knew about it, considering Piotr is there. She does relax a little as that's confirmed. I mean, it wasn't like she felt like it was in danger of being discovered, but she's still getting used to what she can and can't say. "Where did you live in Russia?" she asks after a moment, curious now.


"Gotcha. I grew up in Staten Island, myself." Batman territory. Jason glances between the two, letting them chat for the moment. He kind of relaxes for a moment as he turns to the server to ask for a glass of water. He idly worries at his baseball cap as he sits there. His gaze MIGHT dip over Illyana once or twice as the two talk, though.


"Piotr and I are from Siberia, around Lake Bikal. We grew up on a farm." Illyana has a slightly wistful smile. She doesn't remember that time very well, it's mostly impressions full of warmth and love. Feelings she still strongly associates with her brother.

"New York boy to the core, hmm?" The blonde looks over to Carin. "What about you?" Illyana doesn't figure the question to be any sort of landmine, since Carin brought it up first.

Another of the slight oddities about Illyana is that she doesn't tend to slouch like most people her age do. She sits up with surprisingly good posture. And not once has she even pulled out a phone to check what might have popped up on it's notifications.


For some reason, that question sends a little shadow across Carin's expression, before she answers, her eyes flicking back down to the rapidly diminishing bit of pie. "Um…I…don't know. I don't remember." she says after a moment, with a little sigh, her fork spearing a last rogue cherry on her plate. "My memory is messed up. I can't remember lots of things." She hesistates, then adds. "I always thought Siberia was all snow and tundra, not farming country…."


"Well, born and raised but…I've travelled." Understatement. "I spent some time on a small farm and vineyard. It was…a really nice few years, honestly. That was a bit away from here, though." He shrugs his shoulders and glances between the two. Jason has a bit of a slouch, but he also seems to have a constant 'always casual but always somewhat alert' presence around him, which means he tends to lean and slouch and similar. Pure teen layabout, surely. He arches an eyebrow at Carin. "Shit. Sorry to hear that.."


Illyana Rasputina ahs at Carin, giving her a serious nod. She doesn't mention that hopefully someone at the Institute will be able to help, since that would likely dredge up the whole resident Telepaths bit. The bit about Siberia gets a small chuckle. "Well, I wouldn't say it's the *best* farming land, but there's a lot of space and Lake Bikal is far enough south it's not permanently iced over."

Using her minimal social skills, Illyana clears her throat a bit and stabs a finger at the binder. "So. Who wants to help me pick the next house to look at? The one I was just at was some fairly benign ghosts, but they were really fixated on the whole moaning thing. There's no way I could sleep through that."


Jason is about to comment when a beep emerges from his pocket. He briefly withdraws a thing that a normal person would likely mistake for a phone. But anyone in the superhero business would recognize as an obvious -gadget- of some kind. He frowns and pockets it, sliding to his feet. He pulls out a wad of small bills and pushes them across to the waitress. There might be a bit of dried blood obvious on some of them.

"Sorry. Life calls." He grabs a napkin and scribbles his number onto it for Illyana, pausing long enough for her to do the same.


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