Summary:A tale of coincidences as the Queen of Limbo encounters the God of Fear Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
  |
Tuesday afternoon, New York University's busy even though it's the Summer session. Students still make up a sizable portion of the people in Washington Square Park at this time of day. Walking between the tall dignified buildings that make up the main parts of that modern looking college campus.
This time of year, with security eased, the food truck industry and concession carts are given a little more free rein. Around the large beautiful fountain they ply their wares, knowing that tourists are drawn there if only because of the opening to Friends. There's also the arch that draws attention and people taking pictures.
But for the golden youth known as Alexander Aaron, it's just lunch time, as he sits at the old sycamore that resides on the South end of that campus quad. People still go by in numbers, but off the sidewalk and with his back against the big tree trunk, he seems content. With his backpack tossed to the side and a spiral notebook open in his hand, he somehow manages to munch on a falafel without spilling any on the paper.
Illyana Rasputina has a lot going on in her life, at the moment. A lot of which annoys and frustrates her, because there's so little she can do about it. So she's decided to take a walk and the NYU campus is picturesque enough to do the job.
Not that the blonde looks like she's out for a walk. Dressed in a lot of black leather accented with silver in the form of charms and jewelry and spikes and chains, she's a mix of goth and metal with heavy boots that come up to her knees with silver skulls that serve as buckles. Long blonde hair is left loose in a long bob that comes to her hips and her pale blue eyes don't seem to be fixed on anything in particular.
Oddly, even though the area is fairly crowded, the blonde doesn't have to weave through the crowd or pause while people cut across. People seem to move around her like a river going around a rock. Unconsciously, that lizard-brain of theirs picks up on the demonic side of her and fear prickles their spines, causing them to give her a wide berth. Hands in her back pockets, she tromps along until something pricks her thumbs, as it were and she pauses. Her head comes up and she swings her icy gaze around. Searching.
A sweep of a glance around and she'll see the profile of people that is humanity sub-genus New Yorker/Tourist. There's a family cavorting at the fountain, even though there are signs asking people to please keep out of it. Yet not exactly the most well-enforced law in the city.
The other side there are a few hot dog carts, with the vendors standing there speaking animatedly in Turkish as they gesture about, sharing their thoughts on the current level of custom not being good enough even as they occasionally serve a hot dog to a customer without breaking their conversation.
A group of children all walk by hand in hand, being led by an adult who is trying to get them to sing a song and they're having none of it.
But then her eyes might stop right over there. Beneath the tangled twisted limbs of that Sycamore. For an instant it might be a glimpse of portent as a cloud slithers over the sun and casts the youth holding that falafel in shadow. Normally if it weren't for that subtle feeling she might not have noticed him at all save perhaps that he was cute in a college bro sort of way.
But there, with the old oaken tree seemingly malevolent behind him, almost like a stilted throne that he reclines against as he reads that notebook…
A vision of the future or the past. Or just simple happenstance.
He chooses that moment to look up and their eyes meet. Utterly without self-consciousness a smile blossoms on his features.
Ask most people that know her, and they'll say Illyana's default expression is a smirk. Sort of like how others have 'resting bitch face'. That hasn't been the case of late. Too much of import going on. Things Illyana can't just brush off as just a game to amuse her. Not when it toys with the lives of those she cares about, which is a relatively small number. Instead, there's a mild frown. One that pinches her brow and thins her lips as the sun shines on her golden hair, and is definitely not a mirror of the smile Alex offers up, cast in shadow.
Icy, pale blue eyes narrow a bit. Not because of the smile but because of what she can see hanging off of him, like the tattered remains of a Lady's favor.
Drawing her hands from her pockets so that her arms rest at her sides, Illyana starts forward again, but her boots step off of the paved walk and onto the grass, crushing it beneath her feet as she angles towards the smiling young man. She has the air of a predator about her, ready and dangerous, for those with eyes to see past the pretty blonde girl packaging.
Whoever he is, whatever he is. He has the pantomime down. The facial expressions needed to convey a hint of confusion. It's there in that almost canine-like way he tilts his head to the side, his Yankees baseball hat covering his head but not enough to hide the golden blond hair. He's definitely not the type to run in her likely social circles. Those white sneakers are entirely too preppy/athlete wannabe. And those blue jeans are too baggy and not the fashion. And that white t-shirt is a size too large, and ugh. It says RAMONES on it. Like he's trying to be cool.
His eyebrows beetle together a little as he sets down first the notebook and then the falafel down in its wrapper. So that when she arrives he has his hands free though he's leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees.
"Hello," He says, not unfriendly. But perhaps not as friendly as he might in normal circumstances.
Illyana Rasputina's steps come to a slow halt a half dozen feet away. Enough room for those with human reactions to, well, react if someone were to make any sudden moves. As long as those sudden moves were also at human speed. Which is also usually demon speed. Most people's speed. It's a safe distance, but still good for talking. It says so in the manual of Meeting Potentially Dangerous People.
Hands set on hips, Illyana gives him a long look over, leaving his greeting hanging for a bit as she goes from ballcap to white shoes with a slight wrinkle of her nose in mild distaste. Not that she's much of a fashionista, but apparently she thinks someone's crossed into 'disaster'. Or, y'know, she's getting a better look at the Enchantments that wind around him like a tattered second skin.
"Mmmm." Comes her oh-so-friendly reply. "Hi." She glances around, as though just now noticing where it is she's at, and the refocuses on him. "You a student?"
Alexander gives a slow nod as his bright blue eyes keep level with hers. His smile is warm, offering a greeting that's rarely seen in New York. One with sincerity. "I am, yes. And you?" He shifts his head the other way as he looks at her and she might well get the feeling that whatever senses don't extend into the mystical. Or he's good at hiding it.
There is something about her, however. Everyone has a little baseline steady hum of 'fear' that lends its voice to the chorus of the world's ambient level of terror and dread. But this woman, that subtle sound is distant, muted. As if terror did not easily get its grip upon her.
Then he sits up a little, "Would you like to sit down?" He gestures to the side, leaning over to gather up his backpack as if to make room.
You don't last long in Limbo if you let Fear take hold. Most of the fears that Illyana *does* have is of herself. Of what she might become, of what she might do. And loosing those that matter to her. Most of the things that spark terror in the masses don't tend to touch Illyana Rasputina.
"Not a student, no. I'm supposed to teach, starting soon. But.." She glances about. "Not here." She purses her lips a bit, trying to decide what, if anything, she wants to say to the oddly friendly young man. Most people have a decidedly less cordial reaction to her presence.
The invitation gets a tilt of her head, considering what his motives might be. Because she's not used to dealing with an honest, friendly invitation. Instead of answering, she asks a question of her own. "Do you know that you taste of magic?" The question is usually deemed less crazy these days, what with superheroes all over the city.
"Oh, sorry, ma'am." The youth apologizes for the mistake, assuming an instructor might be a student. It /instantly/ splits her from one of his own to one of the others and thus entitles her to that respect. Perhaps not quite as simple as that, but it doesn't change the smile from reaching those brilliant blue eyes.
"Where do you…" He starts to ask in the same moment that she asks him, 'Do you know that you taste of magic?' And for a time it leads him to blink a bit, taken a little aback.
His features shift, no poker face, she can read each step. There's that hint of confusion at first with the inner eyebrows lifting up. Then a sort of apologetic half-smile as if sorry for the trouble that may be. But then it rolls almost instantly into curiosity as he leans forwards a little.
He stops gathering up his things, but does clear them so she has a place to sit. "I mean…" A small half-smile returns, "I could… believe it? If you tell me? But I don't know the flavor?" At the last his smile returns fully, slipping into a grin as if he found that funny.
Illyana Rasputina gives a small huff of amusement at the 'ma'am'. That's a new one for her. Usually she gets 'Mistress', but not from anything human.
It's just as well Alex didn't finish the question, as Illyana might not have answered. Xavier's likes to keep a low profile and the best way to do that is to not mention it. Sort of like Fight Club.
The curious and confused reaction gets a soft 'hmmm'. That sounds like a 'no'. Her gaze flicks down over him again as she answers. "Looks like a Geas. Several of them, likely. They're old, and wound one into the other…" Then realizing he isn't likely to know the term, "Mmm, obligations and prohibitions. Things you must or can't do." She's still standing, but hasn't moved any further away, either.
"Oh uh," That… seems to get through to Alexander, and if her objective was to shatter that casual smile and good cheer then mission accomplished. He draws his lower lip in between his teeth and worries at it for a moment, but then he nods a few times as he uncurls a hand towards her in a small gesture.
"I don't… I mean. I can understand why that… might be there. My dad sorta…" He looks to the side and she can tell that if she ever gets this kid down at the poker table. Yeah she won't have to worry about rent money.
He looks back to her and says, "I assume you're a magician of a sort?" Not knowing that that might be one of the more insulting terms to use for an actual practitioner of magic. "So I guess I can explain."
He takes a deep breath and then says without solemnity, as if he were asking her to prom with that same tension in it. "I'mtheGodofFear."
Illyana Rasputina's lips twitch, almost coaxed into her habitual smirk as Alex asks if she's a magician. "Something like that." He's obviously not familiar with spellcasters, so she's not going to give him grief about what he calls her. She's slightly surprised he didn't use 'wizard', given the Harry Potter craze.
The answer gets a slowly arched brow. And then a nonplussed, "Which one?"
The smile returns subtly as he says, "Well, the best one, obvs." He sits up a little more and then he clears his throat. His eyes lower, then look back up to meet her gaze. "Maybe we should take a step back here? Or forward?"
He touches a hand to the center of his RAMONES shirt and then says, "My name is Alexander. Aaron. Alexander Aaron. Or Alex. If you want." There's a rhythm there as if those words fall together like that in a jumble semi-often.
Then he gets that grin back, "Who the hell are you?"
The use of slang gets a blank look and a slow blink before Illyana gives another of those soft huffs of amusement. It's like she doesn't know how to really smile or laugh or something. "Well. Certainly not *mine*." She says dryly.
The blonde doesn't seem to disbelieve him, and yet here she is offering snark that, if he's really a god might well get her in trouble. Maybe it was that awkward, rushed sort of offering of the title.
"Illyana Rasputina." There's a pause before she adds with a slight shrug, "Ruler of Limbo." She glances down to the spot he offered originally, and finally moves to lever herself down into it. "Why does a god have so many geas on him?"
Turning to the side to face her, Alexander meets her gaze with that same smile, his head tilt as he meets her gaze. "Limbo? That sounds interesting. I'm only… like aware of it as sort of a concept?" His voice lilts up at the end of sentences at times, not quite asking a question but more just the way he speaks.
But he addresses her question first before asking some of his own. "Well, that's like, I guess, a big ask?" He slides his backpack further out of the way so if she wants to unfold her legs she can. He then settles into a cross-legged posture, drawing one sneakered foot up into his lap almost like a yoga posture.
"I mean, I don't mind telling you. Just it might take a little bit, and you'll get bored and walk off. And I'll sit here all, 'Aww man who was that girl, Illyana Rasputin, Ruler of Limbo? And I was just getting to know her!'" He goes so far as to change his voice mimicking himself but making light at the same time.
"But if you promise to stay through the whole thing, then, like sure." His lip twists a little. As if a smidge self-aware, or just enjoying himself.
"And you still might be thinking of the wrong one." Illyana adds helpfully, her tone still rife with dry amusement and her habitual smirk tugging at her lips as she listens to the godling.
The blonde's eyes narrow at him in a thoughtful manner. "Are you new to this? I feel like you're new to this." What could have possibly given it away? "Because asking for promises tends to be a big deal in the circles you're walking around in." It probably wasn't *just* that. "But I'll only leave if something important comes up." Important to her, so big loophole for those used to looking for them. "If it's just boring I'll, I dunno. Take a nap maybe." Escaping boredom might be high on her list too, though. She draws her own knees up before her so she can wrap her arms around them and rest her chin on them while gesturing to him with an upturned hand, inviting him to start.
"I'm not /new/," He says as if that were a dirty word with his brow furrowing as he adds a small derogatory sound of 'ha-pfft'. But then he gives a nod at her modification of his promise request, "Alright, that's acceptable."
So she'll see him as he lifts his eyes upwards to the sky, gaze distancing in thought as to how exactly to present this. It's rare he actually tells, like the whole story. Usually he hedges, or it has to be dragged out of him. But in this moment he's cobbling it together as a whole presentation.
He looks back down at her, hands coming up as if framing a movie screen, "So, picture an idyllic youth sort of thing. Me as a sprogling, rushing around the yard of my home in the suburbs. My mom passed away when I was born, and my father always seemed kind of sad about that. So he raised me."
Alex waits a second as if for verification of the acceptance of that image. Then he continues, "So eventually, as I'm growing up, I realize Dad isn't exactly like the other days. And for most of the kids life didn't involve mandatory firearm drills, nor lessons in the history of warfare, nor how to fence with all the swords in the world."
"So he was weird. But I love him. And so then one day when I was ten…" He flares his hands a bit signaling the rise of conflict, "The Japanese God of Evil decides to kidnap me, since apparently he hated my father's family. Turns out my dad was Ares of Olympus, and I'm taken off to this… really not nice place."
He stops for a second and she can see a ghost of a shadow flicker over his features. Perhaps sharing more with what he doesn't say than what he does. It's just the single space of a single heartbeat, then he renews the story with a lift of his head. "My father, goes apeshit."
Alex smiles a little at that last, but then says. "Cops went crazy, apparently he had a big stockpile of weapons under the house, but eventually he rushes off to Olympus to try and find me and finds out there's a big war going on. And apparently, I was leading it. So yeah, like… brain stuff. Or… geas things."
There's her explanation and he takes a deep breath then elaborates, "But eventually we find each other, and we fight, and I end up almost killing him. But it…" He worries at his lower lip for a moment, then continues. "It messed me up enough that I was able to break some of the conditioning and I killed Amatsu-Mikaboshi. And so we left."
He scrunches up one eye and the ease of words coming from him returns as he says, "That was about five or six years ago. I was thirteen when we got back. But apparently, with how things work, with what I had done… I had gained the mantle of Phobos. And so… yeah."
He flares his hands, "Meet the nineteen year old Olympian God."
Illyana Rasputina does stretch out her legs as Alex starts to speak, moving her arms behind her and resting her palms on the grass as she leans back on them. She nods at intervals but doesn't interrupt for questions. The smirk on her lips fades away, the pale blue of her eyes darkening a bit as though she has shadows lurking within them. At various points there's a tightening around her mouth and a thin-lipped frown.
At the end, she draws a deep breath, and then lets it out in a slow exhale. "Tell me it wasn't seven years." She murmurs. "That he didn't take you when you were six or seven, and had you for seven years." It doesn't sound likely. Alex had someone looking for him, so surely it wasn't as long as Illyana was trapped in Limbo, was it?
Clearing her throat, Illyana sits up, dusting her hands of a bit, her gaze on them. It gives her something to give her attention. "So why are the geas still there? Why haven't you gotten rid of them?" It's been years, right?
"I," Alex's brow furrows as he turns his head a little to the side, as if trying to view whatever he's thinking about from a different angle. "I was about 8, or ten? It's hard for me to remember things from back then. In detail."
His bright blue eyes meet hers though there's hesitation in them as he smiles to her, a hint of vibrance having left that smile. "I try not to, but the years blurred and changed. I was thirteen when I faced my father. And he said he had only been looking for… a week two?" And as he delves for those memories she might get a subtle feeling of the spells flaring, just slender tendrils of the energy that connects through him coming to life.
"I didn't know that they're… geases? I know my grandfather did something. And he said that I would always be touched by Amatsu's magic." A small smile as if he were telling her he'd learned to live with it, then the small shrug signals the same.
"That doesn't sound as far-fetched as you might think." Illyana pauses. "Well. To me, at least. I was about six or seven when a very bad man stole me from my own idyllic childhood. Not because of who my father was, though." She wrinkles her nose, her tone mild as she complains, "Why don't they take the unhappy kids, hmm?" She follows that with a shake of her head. "Maybe a day or so went by here, but it was seven years for me."
Illyana looks over at him, then. "I escaped, but I didn't kill him. So last summer, he found me and drug me back." She didn't kill him *this* time, either. But that's another story. "And another seven years went by. I think if you look at my birth certificate I'm like, twelve." She jokes.
About the geases, though? She peers at him a bit harder, and then shakes her head. "I'd need to get a better look at them to agree or disagree. I figure by 'grandfather' you mean a god, and they usually know their stuff. Unless he's not a god of magic. Then, who knows. Grandfather… Zeus?" The Greek pantheon gets a little squirlly on whose kid is whose sometimes. "It can be dangerous to just rip spells out of someone."
Alexander's eyes are wide as he listens, not with such as one would imagine innocence, but with a gleam of empathy and then at times touched with sadness. His lips thin as she speaks to having been happy and taken, then nodding when she speaks of the time having blurred and passed.
When she looks to him he holds her eyes, watching, eyes shifting back and forth between her own irises as if seeking for further answers behind them. "Oh I can't imagine anything worse." He says, the idea of being taken again by such a being as they encountered.
He draws a breath and listens to her then nods as she asks, "Yes, Zeus. I mean, if they're there, I figure there's a reason, right?"
But after that they fall silent for a little bit of time, then he tilts his head the other way. "Wow. Maybe we should like, form a support group. Or something." His lips curve back up into a gentle smile. And then out of nowhere he asks her, "Do you believe in Fate?"
The blonde gives a slight shrug as Alex remarks on her getting drug back to hell. "It wasn't ideal, no." She says softly. While she meets his gaze, hers seem a bit.. empty. Lacking that light and warmth that he puts on display so easily. Like something might be missing.
Her head tilts side to side in a waffling sort of gesture. "Again, I couldn't say without getting a much better look at the spellwork. Most likely, it would have been harmful. Could have been it was just beyond his power. I mostly know of Zeus for the boom-boom, not the speallweaving." Yes, Illyana just offered insult to a god. Hopefully he's not watching or else she might get struck by lightning later. Probably not now. She's too close to his grandson.
When he brings up the subject of fate, though? She makes a face, like she's tasted something sour. "No." It's empathic. Perhaps surprisingly so. Because she's running from her own.
Alex turns his head to the side, hand help up slightly as if to tell her to wait a minute. "I know, I know." He worries at the inside of his cheek. "For most people I'd sort of agree maybe? Thing is. I've met the Fates. All three of them. Clotho. Lachesis. Atropos." And really that's not much of a stretch.
He looks away as if gathering the proper words, ordering them in his thoughts, then turning back towards her. "And I'm going to level with you. They are… just these ornery horrible… chuckleheads." Such sincerity in his words, and yet somewhat clandestine, as if he were giving her the secret of the universe. "Like, I mean, all of my family. Except my dad, and really he's a jerk to some people, but like all my family?" He leans forwards and whispers, "Assholes."
But then he straightens up, "Thing is, maybe it's me, since I'm bound to it. Fate and all. But… I am always finding strange coincidences, and meeting people who… I share things with. I am accosted by my uncle's demons and it brings me new friends. I meet a person that seems like they can't stand me, but they help me realize like… aspects of myself in this crazy roundabout coincidental way."
He uncurls a hand toward her, "And then we meet up here. With what's happened to us. I just feel like… Fate does sometimes take a hand. And I'm usually where I need to be."
"Even if they're jerks."
But then he adds, "I'm not saying we need to date or anything. Just more…" He flares his hands to the heavens, "There's a reason for this, Illyana. So… yeah."
Illyana gives Alex a dubious look, but she relents and lets him speak. As he goes on, the set of her shoulders eases a bit. "Well, I'm sure they're real. And they likely are *your* gods. But they're not mine." Her tone isn't aggressive, she clearly feels like she's just extending facts. "I thought you meant as in like, a concept. The absolute, inescapable idea of Fate."
As he shares the bit about his family, she gives a slight chuckle. "I think I did a bit better in the family department, but mine is much smaller." Though it's been growing lately.
There's a slight grimace as he points out his own 'coincidences'. "Now, being manipulated is something I've all too familiar with. But no inescapable Fates, please. Leave me my little slice of hope."
"Well that's good," Alexander seems to key in onto the idea of family, and the positive aspects of it. "I don't know where I'd be without my father." Though some might say he'd be living a better normal life. "He's been the only thing that's keep me relatively together when things were… you know."
But then she mentions immutable Fate and he nods along with her. "Oh see, I agree with you there. Sorta." He opens his hand to the side, gesturing. "I know it's not unchangable. I know that… if you keep your head down and deal with things. You can change it. Or defy it. Because, really, screw those guys."
He speaks so matter-of-factly about a thing that to him is real and to most everyone else is just a nebulous construct. Though really, in the cosmology of things they might just be magical users who are unpleasant to those that catch their eye.
"But I think, well. I think at least I was lucky to have met you today. Ya know?"
Illyana nods, pale eyes glinting. "Screw those guys." She echoes with a soft chuckle.
Thinking back to his family, she points out, "It might not be that they're actually assholes. They're very different from people here." She doesn't say 'us'. Because she's often considered an asshole, in parge part because she didn't grew up on Earth. "They've got different social conventions."
Finally, she offers a chuckle and a smile. "But, I'll take the compliment I think is being offered."
"Cool," He says, and hey. It is cool. But he lets that hang there for a time and gives a small nod, "Different social conventions is a kind way to phrase it. But thank you."
That said, however, it allows his train of thought to return to a question that might be a little more difficult for her to answer. "So you're an instructor?" He leans a little to the side. The golden haired youth takes off his baseball hat and whacks it a few times on his knee then tries to settle it back into place, only causing his hair to be all the more unkempt and frizzy.
"What's that like? And I mean, like. No offense, but you're not like any professor I've ever had." He takes a moment to look at the various skulls and accouterments. "I mean, I'm not doubting you. But man, you must be good. Or is it like…"
His eyes shoot up and his smile is such a wry amused thing as he says, "You teach at a Hogwarts?" Since well, she's a mage after all.
"I grew up in a Hell realm and then had to learn how to live like peoples. I have a lot of people that would use 'asshole' as a compliment for me." Which is warning that Illyana might not be all smiles and stories. OK, she's like, never smiles. But sometimes stories.
The questions about her being an instructor get's a short laugh. It's rough, and sounds like she doesn't use it much. "Well, I might be a really *bad* instructor. This upcoming semester is supposed to be my first. It's kind of a trial thing, to see if I like it. And it's not at Hogwarts, but it is sort of a class on magic. One-oh-one I guess. Talk about things not to do with magic, magical creatures, types of magic, stuff like that.
"It's good that you're doing that then." Alexander says as he reaches over and starts to gather up his backpack, sliding open the zipper with a metallic whirrrr and puts his notebook back inside. "I'm studying History here, since like… well I mean. I'm already good at it. So why not? I figure maybe I'll be a professor."
There's a beat as he zips up the backpack again then adds with a small sigh and a half-smile given to her. "Or unemployed. I figure that's a strong possibility too." Then the pack is set to the side as he takes up the falafel again and pokes at it, he wraps it up and sets that aside as well.
"I sort of feel like…" He looks back to her eyes and just shifts his gaze between those irises, as if trying to see if she's being sincere or if maybe she's laughing at him behind them. "With pasts like ours. Every day we don't do something horrible is a win, right?"
"If it doesn't work out, I'll be back to being unemployed." Illyana admits. "'Ruler of Limbo' doesn't pay really well. I mean, I get free rent but no one can visit and the food is kind of shit. And by 'kind of' I mean it really is just *awful*." That's followed with a small shrug. "But I'm not really suited to much here."
A faint smile is coaxed from the blonde when he mentions what they should qualify as a 'win'. "I think there's a betting pool as to how many of my students I traumatize before they can't drop my class. Maybe if someone ends up dead." She drums her fingers against her knee thoughtfully. "I'll be shocked if anyone signs up, honestly. And I like to set my bar a bit higher than just *not* doing something awful. Call me an optimist." Now there's something laughable.
A small laugh slips from him as she speaks about the very real possibility of her causing the death of one of her students, though he tries to cut it off, he can't. But when she mentions setting the bar higher he nods a few times and says. "Man."
"But sometimes though," He looks across the way and for a moment, just a moment, there's this brief feeling of kinship, as if it was just lovely to find someone with which he can discuss these things with. "I just… I feel like I can't stop myself." He unfolds his legs and lets himself lean to the side next to her, reaching out to pull up a few blades of grass and picks at them, slowly pulling them apart. "Like…"
He looks up into her eyes from this lower angle, "I have this friend who is… sort of a spirit of vengeance, right? Can't control himself. When he gets it he has to do something about it. So he shows up and he's all… upset. He killed this gang of guys."
A hand lifts as if to stay her from rushing off to inform the police, "I mean if they're bad enough to draw this out of him then they're pretty bad people right?" But then he shakes his head, "But as soon as something like this comes up it's like a switch. I click over and I'm all, 'Alright, where did you leave the bodies, what do we need to do to bring them in? Are there any witnesses?' like all these things."
He takes a breath and shakes his head, "And man, I just… I don't want to be the asshole. You know?"
Illyana's brows go up as Alex starts to laugh, but her lips quirk upwards as well as she watches him laugh.
As he starts to explain, that smirk lingers. And when he holds up his hands to forestall her bolting, she just chuckles and instead she leans to the side, stretching out across from him in the grass. "It sounds like I might need to leave you my phone number, if you need to help disappear bodies." Her tone is wry. Her eyes are serious.
"Sorry, I must be missing it. Where would you be the asshole in this?" Making sure the situation got resolved seems perfectly acceptable to Illyana.
"Well see…" Alex grins at her and just shakes his head as he looks away, his eyebrows raised as if he can't understand why the hell this is. He looks back at her and says, "He was just upset. He was just… super upset that this happened. And then he blew these guys up. And he had blood on him. He just wanted to tell him that things would be okay…"
He looks back at her and he can't hide the warmth in his eyes as he relates this to her, just the /human/ feeling of this as if something was just wrong with him. "And here I was like, 'suck it up buddy, so you killed some people, big deal.'"
He takes a deep breath and lowers his head a little, finding another piece of grass to tear apart as he murmurs, "I feel like I should be more that guy. Than you know, the other bit." There's a pause then his eyebrows lift, "Though honestly I think he was more upset that his girlfriend-not-girlfriend started dating some other fella."
The blonde sorceress thinks over Alex's words and then ahhhs, nodding. "So it's because you're not really as sympathetic as they're wanting. Or perhaps, would expect. It makes you seem callous." Illyana wiggles one booted foot thoughtfully, quiet as she mulls over the situation.
"I don't care about people." She finally says, somewhat baldly. "Like, people in general. There's a few people that mean something to me, and I tend to be possessive of them. They're mine, in a way." Some more than others. "But otherwise, I can go through the motions but it's all academic. Violence happening? Get the civvies out. But if they die? Eh. So, I understand feeling like you should be the other guy. The more *human* guy." She lifts her shoulders in a shrug.
The last bit gets a chuckle. "Maybe he's got a bit of his own wires crossed, hmm?"
As Illyana speaks she can tell he's watching her, his expressive blue eyes following along with her words, dropping for a moment to her lips then returning to her gaze. A small smile is there as she speaks, sympathetic, listening to what she's saying and nodding at points.
Then she speaks to not caring about people and elaborates… and he leans forward as if getting what she's saying exactly. Yet it's only when she stops speaking that he offers his own insight.
"I sort of feel the same way. I care about the people around me. My friends, those I love." He watches her eyes for reaction as he speaks. "Everyone else, feels like… there is nothing there. No draw or pull to the defense or a feeling of… value."
He straightens up, "But I mean, I can catch myself. And like if someone is endangered, I /tell/ myself to do something. But there's always a part of me that just… doesn't care. So I try to sort of be the person I feel I 'should' be?"
It's only then that he realizes that he'd been partially holding his breath and then lets it out slowly. "And I just worry that maybe all of it is just… so much pantomime." He looks around at the school at everything. Then back to her as he adds, "So I do what I can to try and be that person."
Illyana gives another of those small, faint smiles and her breath leaves her in a slow sigh as she nods, perhaps more emphatically than the rest of her reactions might speak to. "Yes. Yes, exactly." OK, she's a bit more sparing with the word 'love', but obsession is similar, right?
As Alex straightens, she brings herself up as well, legs crossing as she leans in towards him, elbows resting on her knees. "My brother is the best person I know, so I always try to keep in mind what he would do, to try to keep myself on the 'right' path. I suppose it helps that I can almost blanket assume that all of my own impulses are wrong. Being demonically tainted tends to do that." Illyana's almost talking to herself towards the end there, or she might not have used the 'D' word.
"It's for them isn't it?" Alexander smiles a little at her as he finds himself mirroring her posture unknowingly. He chews on his lower lip as he looks down for a moment, then the deep blue irises with the hazy edges lift back to her and he says gently. "I mean for the people we don't want to disappoint?" If the word Love does not fit.
"I don't want to disappoint my father. Or the memory of my mother. Or my friends. I…" He stops.
His gaze slips to the side as if thinking about her, what she's said, or perhaps just gathering his own words… or judging if he should confide further in this strange goth and metal girl.
"When I came back. I was thirteen, right?"
He waits, likely for a sign that she's listening. Should he receive that he'll go on. "A few years later, like, people knew what had happened, right? About my father, about me. Sort of. They knew we were special, and my friends. We were at this party. I was fifteen. I had the world in my hand. I knew everything, everyone liked me. And I had a girlfriend but to be honest I was sorta 'meh' about the whole thing."
He takes a deep breath, "But anyways. They asked if I had powers, and I was like. Yeah. And everyone at the party wanted to see."
He looks to the side and lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck. "So I thought, ok, I'd done it before. And maybe I can do it low key. Just… something not so scary. Except well… I didn't have that good of a control on it."
"That," Illyana agrees, her tone dragging out though, and she continues. "But also.. It ties back into that bit about 'Fate'. Your bad guy took you to try to kill your father. My bad guy took me to try to let some evil gods free. Or maybe 'proto-gods' might be a better word, given…" She gestures over at him. "Maybe more akin to your Titans. More forces of nature than aspects of a concept. Things that if let out would try to eat reality as we know it. And the more I slip towards what most would consider classically evil, the closer I get to letting them loose." It's more than she's told most people. Certainly more than she tells people on a first meeting, but Alex had it right. There's a sense of familiarity with each others story.
She nods for him to continue with his story, and there's the mild grimace when he gets to the punchline, as it were, nodding. "Even if you had. No one enjoys having to look upon their own terrors."
"It… was just horrible." His voice lowers quietly, Alex's gaze shifting to the side as if not able to look at her when he spoke. "Just seeing all of these horrors. People were thinking… oh haha I'm scared of spiders. It's weirdly enough not like that. It's like…"
He looks around as if the blades of grass, the small bits of bark on the tree, the walking happy shiny people all around them. He shakes his head, finding no help until he looks to her. "It strips away everything about them, the lies they have about themselves. I saw their worst secrets and they knew I could see it. See these… worst forms of themselves. And…"
He looks back to her, "And they never talked to me again. None of them. We moved." The blond youth seems to just look past her, unseeing. "I just don't want to be hated I think. But maybe I shouldn't care."
In the face of a story like that, saying something after seems almost wrong. And so there's a long silence, but it doesn't really feel awkward. Perhaps a moment of silence for the loss of friendship. The loss of that life before. Perhaps too some innocence, already a precious commodity in a boy that had seen and done too much.
"I think you should." Illyana finally says, her tone soft and her expression serious as those cold, pale eyes meet his. "I think you should care. I think it's important. Don't be something you're not, but care. Otherwise, you'll be just another asshole on Mount Olympus."
"That's… kind of you to say, Illyana." He looks back up meeting her gaze. And then she tells him not to be just another of those bastards on Olympus and there's that warmth again, springing back to life as it reaches his eyes, almost infectious as he murmurs, "Oh yeah that'd be the fucking worst, right?"
He shakes his head with eyes mildly widening as if such a possibility boggles the mind. "For real. I'd throw myself off a bridge or something. Though I'd prolly survive it." That last said a little sourly.
He sits up then and extends a hand towards her. "This has been like. Really good, Illyana. I think…" His smile becomes all the more vibrant as he adds in a tone that's clearly giving her grief.
"I think we should likely never date, since damn how messed up would that be? I mean our collective luggage is more than some airports move in a day. But I mean…"
Then he asks her with that curious innocence of someone on that edge of full adulthood but still with a foot lingering close to their youth. "I'd like to be friends."
The blonde leans in just a bit closer as he suggests they not date, that smirk back curving her lips. "Probably best." She agrees. "I'm not sure how my boyfriend would take it anyhow." Introducing him to Sam might not be a bad idea, though. Like her brother, Sam Guthrie is one of those honestly good people that can be hard to find, and often has a wisdom beyond his years.
Leaning back, Illyana digs around for her phone and unlocks it, offering it to Alex and making a 'gimmie' gesture for his own. "I can probably find you unless you're hiding behind wards. Downside of being a god. But let me give you my number so if you *do* need bodies moved at some point, you can give me a call." Most people wouldn't voluntarily bother a god, but Illyana is not most people. "Don't stress if I don't answer. Hell realms have shitty reception." As in, none. That's half of what qualifies it as a Hell these days.
The blond youth fishes into his pocket for his own red-sleeved phone, and offers it to her freely, letting her sync them up and share numbers as well as tags. And as she speaks he nods along with what she's saying, "Sure. I'm usually pretty available. Though, you know, classes."
Then he tilts his head to the side somewhat and adds, "Or when I'm teaching a self-defense class thing."
Another beat and he blinks, "Oh and Ororo was saying I was supposed to meet some of her friends soon. That should be fun. So I might be off the reservation for a while then."
"But yeah sure. I don't really do Facebook or Twitter or anything though."
Numbers exchanged, they're handing back phones when Alex drops Ororo's name. That gives the blonde pause. "Munroe? Dark skin, white hair, blue eyes?" The name's pretty unusual, and if Alex's Ororo matches the description, odds are pretty good it's the weather controlling mutant.
The blonde flashes him a brief grin that shows a bit too much teeth to be a smile. It's got too much of a predatory air to it. "See? You're a teacher too. I suppose the son of Ares should be pretty good at warfare, even if he skipped your early years, hmm?"
As to social media? Illyana shakes her head. "Have you read the Terms of Service on those things? I'd never sign them."
"Yeah, you know her?" He pipes up giving a small nod, "We're sort of dating. Though she's…" He tilts his head to the side, "Really really ethereal. It's hard to know like… where she is sometimes." Then his head bobs, "But yeah."
Then she mentions the classes and gives a small nod, "I just started doing it. I had sorta avoided training for a while. And then felt like I should be around people." He straightens up and takes the phone back, pocketing it. With a small rustle he grabs his backpack and slings it over his shoulder.
"I have to go to the lab. I'd invite you but you'd probably hate it. And it's pretty boring." His head tilts to the side and then murmurs, "Chemistry." As if it was the worst thing in the world.
Then he nods, "It really was good meeting you, Illyana."
"Mmm, I do, actually. I probably know some of her friends as well." That seems to amuse Illyana. When Alex says they're 'sorta dating'? Those cold eyes dance with amusement. "Oh really." But she doesn't offer any further commentary on *that*.
Illyana pulls herself up to her feet and nods. "And professors get grumpy when strange people just show up in their classes." She might know this because she might have wandered in to a few classes to see how they taught as research for this experiment of her teaching at Xavier's. They might not have been happy.
"I should get going anyway. I've still got to find the chick that tried to stab my friend in the heart." Beat. "And the demon that's mucking with my other friend." Beat. "Damn. I've got a list going." She sighs and offers him one of those easy smirks of hers. "It was definitely interesting meeting you, Alex. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again. Your meddlesome fates and all that." The blonde doesn't walk away, though. A disk of light opens at her feet and slides upwards, swallowing her away and then winking out.
At least her powers don't scare the piss out of anyone.
As she admits to yet another coincidence Alex's fast lights up almost intolerably as he just gives her double fingerguns, as if this just /prooooves/ the point of everything he said. And then she verifies it by admitting to their existence. "Yeah!" He offers…
And then she's gone. Once he's clear he sort of half-smiles at where that portal was and then says, "So cool."