Relics
Roleplaying Log: Relics
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

A safehouse full of guns, beer, and history.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: December 20, 2019
IC Location: Gotham
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 21 Dec 2019 00:16
Rating & Warnings: R
Scene Soundtrack: [*\# None]
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

It's not all that unusual to find Illyana Rasputin in dark places, untouched by the light of the sun, hidden from the sight of the innocent and locked away from the general run of humanity… but usually those places would be in Limbo, or occasionally another dark and broken dimension.

Today, her surroundings are considerably less arcane.

The X-Men's resident demon sorceress is sitting on an old, beaten up sofa in a cube-shaped concrete room, the uninspiring grey of the walls, floor and ceiling harshly lit by unforgiving electric light. If the place wasn't so well stocked it would resemble a cell in a particularly secure prison, but well stocked it is. Piles of crates line the walls, stencilled with military-style codes, almost certainly containing guns and ammunition, while others bear the caduceus denoting medical supplies. The only thing out of place in this doomsday-prepper's dream, other than Illyana herself, is a well-stocked beer fridge that gets the occasional, covetous glance from the slightly bored blonde.

Evidently the dog-eared copy of Guns & Ammo that she's flicking through isn't holding her attention, and it's with some relief that she looks up as the electronic lock securing the door releases.

"I love what you've done with the place." Illyana says by way of greeting. As if she needed to add to the incongruity of her presence, she's wearing a Christmas sweater. Or at least, her interpretation of a Christmas sweater. It's black, and features a large ram's skull with curling horns in white across her chest, while double rows of alternating pentagrams and (mostly) human skulls march across the sweater above and below the main design. She's also wearing a short denim skirt and black tights.

"It's very you." Illyana adds, with her usual smirk.

***

Everything's been a little up in the air for a while but time continues to march on and Domino's not about to let matters slow her down for long. She's moved all of her extra supplies back into hiding, this particular safehouse in Gotham being particularly well stocked. She's gone back to old haunts, familiar routines and taking contracts. For a short while there everything had been feeling almost ..normal.

And then Illyana Rasputin happened.

The door isn't opened so much as wrestled to the point of being unlatched then shoved open before the edge of a tall boot can arrest its motion. On the other side stands one Neena Thurman, a bit banged up and bloodied but she's been through worse. A mud brown colored duffel bag rides high atop of one shoulder while the sling for a beefy looking automatic rifle hangs from the other. She's just starting to shuffle her way inside when the voice stops her -cold.-

She knows that voice. She's heard it plenty of times before. What she HASN'T heard before..is that voice coming from HERE.

The bag slowly falls forward then is left to drop straight to the floor leaving one weary, and wary, albino standing in the doorway.

"Hi..!" she greets with some amount of confusion still evident.

The door is given a little kick to push it closed. She doesn't need to look back to neatly flick the deadbolt shut. If Illyana didn't happen to have teleportation abilities then she'd be pretty well stuck in here with the mercenary.

"To what do I owe this completely random and unexpected encounter?"

She seems to be taking this kinda well…

***

Blue eyes watch Domino keenly for a reaction, but if Illyana was hoping the other woman would jump, she's disappointed. The smallest shrug of her shoulders chalks that one up to experience, and she flips the magazine she wasn't really reading closed.

Tossing the magazine aside onto a handy crate, Illyana uncurls legs that had been tucked up under her and slips her feet back into her shoes before standing up and primly adjusting her skirt. There might be a moth-eaten old rug by the equally well-used sofa, but the place is already chilly and she's not about to chance the cold concrete floor.

"You didn't call, you didn't visit…"

Illyana begins, still smirking, before changing tack to something that sounds a little more like the truth.

"I thought we were going to hunt down your zombie-cult friends."

Blue eyes sweep across Domino, taking in the damage and the tiredness.

"But now I see you've been having fun without me. I might not even offer you one of your beers now."

By some miracle, she hasn't raided the fridge. Maybe there's some twisted etiquette at work that says it's OK to invade Domino's space and read her magazines, but the fridge is off limits.

***

Every little detail is taken in. Domino watches Illyana like a hawk with those piercing ice blue eyes. It's like she's only half present when she swiftly claims "No cell reception in Limbo."

The zombie-cult 'friends' still exist..and are in definite need of being hunted. Though there's no denying that she's been out having a good time without the blonde. But when Illy makes some remark about not offering her one of her own beers…

"Don't worry, I've saved the cultists for you," she easily replies while suddenly jumping into casual Neena mode. The bag is pushed out of the way with the toe of a boot. Then the rifle slips free of her shoulder to be set atop a nearby stack of hard plastic boxes.

"I've had some personal matters to sort through. Which..speaking of."

She's already cleared a path. The motions are quick and decisive. Dom may have pulled her punches before but there's nothing considerate when she grapples the other mutant and shoves her back against the door. It's one of the only open spaces of wall anywhere within the room, and it's conveniently close.

Besides having an arm locked around Illy there's also a wickedly curved blade in hand, looking more like a honed raptor claw than a knife. It's sized and radiused almost -perfectly- to cover the entire front area of Magik's throat.

Dom's next words are spoken as smooth as silk but as cold as an Arctic winter. No emotion. No accusation. Up front and factual. "I don't remember telling you about this place."

***

Illyana affects not to notice Domino's intense scrutiny, but she's far from oblivious to it. She's just not going to say anything about it until Domino either gets over whatever is bothering her about Illyana's presence, or actually does something about it.

Knowing Domino, Illyana's expecting 'does something about it', but she's prepared to be patient.

The crack about cell phone reception in Limbo doesn't get more than a slightly bigger smirk. It might be true, but it's not like she hasn't given Domino a means to get around that particular problem, and they didn't part on particularly bad terms… from Illyana's point of view, at least.

A slight narrowing of Illyana's eyes is the only visible clue to the frown lurking behind her bangs when Domino's demeanour changes as if a switch has been thrown somewhere. "Thoughtful." Illyana plays along. "But I hope you weren't thinking of leaving all of them to me."

It's fair to say Illyana had been expecting something. It's equally fair to say that she hadn't quite been expecting the explosion of speed and violence that Domino unleashes. Illyana's slammed back against the unyielding surface of the door with such force that she lets out a quiet 'oof!' of displaced breath. She didn't have the slightest chance to react…

…but is that true, really? How long does it take to summon one of her stepping discs? How long to cast a defensive spell? How long, even, for a trained X-Man to manage some form of self-defence?

Illyana's body is still under Domino's arm, but there's no tension in her frame, and after that one harshly expelled breath her breathing is even, despite the knife at her throat. Her eyes are locked on Domino's, and there's a glint in them that isn't fear.

"You didn't. I looked for you and I found you here. And then I decided to invite myself over."

Illyana's voice is just as controlled as Neena's, but then she smiles.

"If I'd known you were going to be this pleased to see me I'd have dropped by before now."

***

For a time all Illyana's going to get is that cool narrowed stare. Once it breaks the mask of a killer is replaced by a lopsided grin. "If I knew you were stopping by I would have tidied up some. Seriously though, give me a heads up before you crash my personal space next time. I'm territorial as hell and there's enough people trying to mess with me lately. What might have looked and sounded like you may not have -been- you."

She's still holding the knife to Magik's throat, isn't she… By now it might be less as a threat and more because she simply happens to enjoy the moment.

The blade retreats as the albino effortlessly shifts into a much more humane demeanor, that locked arm instead coming around Illy's shoulders as she motions around the smaller room with the knife still in hand. "Welcome to the Gotham safehouse. Just enough space for the necessities but with a really decent lock on the door. Not that it seems to have done me an ounce of good today."

The knife is clicked back into its Kydex shell and Neena goes to move away from Illy, permitting her some personal space again. Not that there's much to spare around here. With a heavy sigh her arm sweeps down and catches the large brown bag by the handles, hauling it with her as she goes to flop back onto the ratty old couch. The zipper's yanked open to reveal quiiite a fair bit of money, prompting an impish grin from the pale lady. "I'd offer to buy you something nice like a small country but you already own a fairly large one."

***

If Domino is hoping that Illyana's composure is going to crack… she'll be waiting a long time. The longer that emotionless stare bores into Illyana's eyes, the more challenging the blonde's smile becomes.

Maybe they'll just have to call this one a draw.

"What would you have done? Rearranged your crates? Straightened your magazine? I liked it how it was, gave the place that lived in look. Besides."

Illyana grins.

"There's no cellphone reception in Limbo."

Illyana might have waited until the knife was taken away from her throat before implying that Domino's bolt-hole is, well, spartan and more than a bit soulless, but it seems she's incapable of not pushing her luck. It might be a good thing that something Domino says sparks a flare of what looks like genuine anger in her eyes.

"Someone thinks impersonating me is a good idea? The cultists can wait."

The last is said in a grim tone, but she seems willing to be steered away from that topic - literally as well as figuratively - as Domino gives her the tour.

"Guns, beer and bandages?"

Illyana asks, with a touch of sarcasm, but then considers her words and considers the state Domino is normally in when she encounters the pale lady.

"Makes sense."

She allows, the sarcasm gone. Amusement replaces it quickly enough.

"There are ways to keep people like me out. But then you'd be able to keep me out, and that doesn't seem fair."

Released, Illyana adjusts the sleeves of her slightly too big Christmas sweater, pushing them up her arms to keep them from getting in the way of her hands, then finds a sturdy looking stack of crates to perch on, bracing her hands either side of her and crossing her dangling legs at the ankle.

"I'm sure you'll come up with something."

Illyana remarks as she eyes the revealed money. She doesn't really have a lot of use for it, most of the time, but she knows a lot of it when she sees it.

"Business is good?"

***

"Whoa, hey. It's nothing personal, Ils. Only guy I know of who has it in for you is Zombie Boy. We'll deal with him soon enough," Neena tries to reassure Magik with the moment of anger. Anger which is fortunately not being aimed directly at Dom! "It's those damn crazy telepaths, they'll do anything to muck up your thoughts."

Guns, beer, and bandages? "There's also some -killer- beef jerky" she adds while pointing to yet another crate.

Regarding keeping Illy out a frown crosses the monochromed face. "Yeah, so normally this would have really ticked me off. If I was going to let you into my personal space it would have been to my actual home than this hole in the wall. But, you've been good to me so I'll give you a pass. No need to ward this place. Unless it's against S'ym. That guy gives me the creeps."

Neena's head dips to one side, lifting a hand to wobble it around some. "Win some lose some. Oh who am I kidding, I'm winning like a damn fiend lately. But—" she swiftly cuts herself off with a more genuine emotion settling into play. "Don't think I was forgetting about you. I didn't want to over-extend my welcome or anything. All I had planned on was gathering my gear, reorganizing myself, then one call later and suddenly I'm back in the game. Turns out wickedness doesn't wait for the holidays, it embraces them. Imagine inheriting a multi-million dollar life insurance policy on a deceased husband for Christmas. The guy was an ass," she declares while giving the open bag of money a toss beneath a moveable clothes rack full of peculiar uniforms. "He totally had it coming."

The mini fridge is strategically positioned that it can be accessed without ever having to leave the couch. It's a familiar reach back to pop the door open and catch two bottles from inside, one of them held out to Illyana.

Sitting back in a slouch with one leg crossing over the other, Dom twists off the cap and flicks it into a nearby garbage. It's like she's completely forgotten about her cuts and scrapes. Business as usual! Besides, she's too busy grinning at the other mutant. "Cute sweater. I'm guessing you didn't pick that one up at Wal-Mart. Real festive."

Why exactly is Illyana -here,- though? Two options come into Dom's mind. Either she ..gods forbid.. -missed- hanging out with her, or she's here about that 'favor.' Fortunately for Dom, focusing on the former also allows her to distract from the latter. "So. How's Limbo this time of year?"

***

The flare of anger in Illyana's eyes dies away, although it doesn't quite die out. The idea of someone pretending to be her is something she seems to find particularly offensive. It doesn't stop her from adopting a smug look and lightly tapping two fingers against her temple, of course. "I wouldn't know. I don't let them in." Sometimes, being not entirely human has its advantages, and one of those advantages is being able to keep people out of your thoughts, it seems.

Beef jerky? "Everything you need to survive the end of the world." Illyana remarks quietly enough to sound like she's talking to herself, but her eyes flick over to Domino as she says it, just to make sure the pale lady heard.

"S'ym only gets to come out to play if I let him." Illyana says, sounding like she's stating an incontrovertible fact. "But he'll be hurt to know he's not invited." The blonde sorceress doesn't even address the pass that Domino's giving her. It's possible that the lack of said pass wouldn't have made the slightest difference.

Illyana tracks the bag of money as it's flung across the room, but her eyes seem to get stuck when they light upon that clothes rack. "Always good to get job satisfaction as well as getting paid." Illyana says, sounding half distracted and half like she's never done an honest day's work in her life. She just about manages to wrestle her attention back to Domino in order to accept the offered beer. She stretches her arms out so that Domino has an unimpeded view when her sweater is mentioned. "I never get asked to help with the decorations at the mansion either." She says, and now it's her turn for an impish smirk.

Her attention is quickly drawn back to the clothes rack, however, and she slips down from her perch on the crates even as Domino's questioning her. "Hot. Dry. Tends to be that way unless I really want it to change." She replies - incidentally confirming that even Limbo's climate bends to her will - as she crosses over to the clothes rack. Her steps are silent, as if - absurdly - she's creeping up on the collection of uniforms.

"Please tell me these are what I think they are?" She asks as she browses, before her hand, which had been trailing along the uniforms, stops and pulls one out. Deliberately, she looks between Domino and the uniform and back again.

***

Everything needed to survive the end of the world. "That's the plan" Domino confirms.

S'ym not being invited is responded to with "More beer for us." She's heartbroken, clearly!

Not being asked to help with the decorations? "Those kids are no fun," Neena kids while taking a healthy drink.

"Really, you can change the weather?" She pauses to let the idea sink in with a soft "Huh. Cool." What else can she say to something like that? Maybe "Hey, next time I'm there could you make it snow? I want to test a theory."

Oh, god. Illy's looking at the clothes rack. Neena slowly dips her head to rub the bridge of her nose with a light sigh. "Glimpses of different times and different places, yes…" The one piece uniform which Illyana picks up has a slight blueish tint under the light with oval cutouts along the outside of each limb. Purple combat webbing hangs from the metal hanger along with it.

"I got a little tired of getting sunburned through those windows. Found out that some people really enjoyed using the white spots as bullseyes, too."

With a tiny wince she leans forward to prop elbows onto knees, trying her best to behave while watching the Limboqueen pick through the albino's personal history. "I try not to be too nostalgic but sometimes it's good to have a reference of what worked and what didn't. For a while I thought, hey, why not get fancy? Go on, show some skin. Everyone else is doing it. Worked great for clubbing, not so much for wetwork."

Why let Illyana have all of the fun (at Dom's expense?) The albino gets back to her feet and wanders closer, setting her beer aside to pull a black leather biker jacket off the hook. It's clearly much too big for someone like her but still in good shape. Even with some recent injuries it's no trouble to draw the jacket over her shoulders, hands automatically going into the pockets.

Almost immediately she frowns again. One hand comes back out holding a single key. "Been wondering where the hell that went…"

***

Illyana twists the cap off her own beer, starts to raise it to her lips and then… hesitates, when Domino asks if she can make it snow. For about half a second, Illyana's not seeing anything inside Domino's concrete cube, instead she's seeing snow, as cold as death, stretching out as far as the eye can see.

She doesn't blink, or shake herself, she just continues her interrupted motion and takes a long sip of her beer. "I can make it snow." She confirms, and her tone is just as light and casual as before, and the evil grin comes just as easily as ever when Domino rubs the bridge of her nose as if she feels a headache coming on. Illyana responds by unhooking the uniform from the rack completely and holding it up to get a better look. And to consider the size of the cut-outs. The suggestion of bullseyes draws a snort, and she looks back at Domino. "Looks like it might work to me…" She begins, almost teasingly, then some genuine interest enters her eyes when clubbing is mentioned.

"So." She says, with the sort of finality that suggests someone has failed to spot a tripwire. "You do know how to have fun without shooting people." She cocks her head to one side, then amends. "Without necessarily shooting people."

The uniform with the cutouts is put back, and Illyana's about to see what other wonders are waiting for her when Domino moves to join her. She steps back to give the other woman room, watching as she shrugs into the jacket. There's a measuring look in her eyes. Was Domino going for the oversized look or… does the jacket belong to someone else? She decides not to ask, and takes another pull on her beer. "Not bad." She observes, after a moment.

The key draws her eye. Secrets always do. "Something you thought you'd lost?" Illyana asks, a little too innocently. "Want to tell me about it, or want to go clubbing?"

Neena might pick 'none of the above', but she can't blame Illyana for trying.

***

The key is flicked up into the air and caught before Domino turns to give Illyana a look. Illy's snowy hell flashback passes without any notice for the albino. Rather, the part that she does catch on is the harassment about her apparent lack of an ability to have any fun of a nonviolent sort. "-Yes- I know how to have fun, thank you. I'll have you know that going clubbing wasn't even connected to a job."

She pauses. Considers. "Most of the time."

Not bad? "I can hide a lot of gear under this coat, too" she explains with a smirk.

Ultimately it's the key which Illy focuses on. It's perhaps a small blessing given all of the old uniforms which she could still be pouring over. "Maybe I'm a little more sentimental than I thought," Dom quietly suggets before making the key disappear within a fist. She's left to think up some excuse to not get into the particulars when Magik herself offers the albino a way out.

"Wait. Are you serious?" Dom looks down at herself. Runs fingertips through her hair. "I'm kind of a wreck at the moment. Maybe after I've had a chance to shower then bathe in Neo-sporin. That should give you enough time to find something better to wear. They're likely to turn you away at the door if you show up wishing them a Helly Christmas," she teases.

"Tell you what. Let's take five to pull ourselves together then I'll tell you where my pretty car's parked. We can roll up in proper style and make a night out of it. I'll even foot the bill." Because hell-ooo giant bag filled with money!

The offer's given. The beer's nearly emptied. Neena's attention returns to the tiny room, wondering aloud "Now where the hell did I put that Ibuprofen…"

***

Maybe Illyana is letting Domino off easily for once. Maybe that glimpse of the original Illyana's memories hasn't quite let her go, and she wants to be distracted.

Maybe she just knows that the rack of old uniforms exists now, and she doesn't want to have all her fun at once.

"Of course I'm serious." Illyana tells Domino, implacably. Clubbing, or story time. She'll take either. And picking one only defers the other, but she's not going to admit that right now.

Illyana folds her arms as Domino runs down her list of excuses, adopting a look of exaggerated patience, but when the criticism turns to her appearance she has to snort back a laugh. "They wouldn't turn me away. I'm what happens if you're REALLY on the naughty list." She says, affecting an air of disdain despite the fact that, between the Christmas sweater, the short denim skirt, the tights and the flats, she really doesn't look the part.

It's easily remedied, though. The Soulsword is suddenly in her hand, pulled from nowhere, its cold silver-white luminescence lighting the room even more starkly, and then a flash of light engulfs Illyana. A moment later the Soulsword is gone, and she's taller, courtesy of the heels of the boots she wasn't wearing just a moment before. Or the leather trousers that lace up the side of each leg. The black top looks deceptively simple, but as she walks past Domino to throw herself down on the sofa, the other woman will see that the back is nothing more than criss-crossing laces. Somewhere in the mix eyeshadow happened as well.

"Sounds good. I'm ready." Illyana grins mercilessly. "Get going." She crosses one leg over the other, a booted foot already bouncing impatiently.

***

On the really naughty list… "That explains why I've been spending so much time in Limbo," Domino jokes.

The moment of humor is lost in about the same length of time it takes for Illy to magic up a complete wardrobe change for herself, already sitting down and looking bored at the thought of having to wait again. The fuck!

Dom rolls her eyes with another sigh, letting the jacket fall off of her shoulders so she can bundle it up and fling it right at Illy. "-Such- a bitch" she grumbles, taking the uniform with all of those fancy oval windows off of the rack then stepping outside to change. Illy can stay in the concrete box for a while longer.

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