1963-08-11 - That's not how you play it
Summary: Xavier Institute students meet in the library as the beginning of the school year nears.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
akihiro cannonball illyana kitty piotr rogue 


Illyana's spent most of her time at the Institute in the library area. It's not a mere study, of course— the library is the rival of a small school's, easily large enough for several long study tables laid end to end. There are dedicated quite hours of course, for people studying, but it's a popular enough place to relax and hang out— often games are on the tables, like a half-played round of chess or a set of playing cards someone had left out after a rousing game of gin.

Illyana's curled up in a chair that's big enough to accomodate even the likes of Piotr or Hank, leaving her hugely dwarfed by the plushy furniture. She's barefoot, as is her usual, wearing a light, flowing miniskirt in dark green and leggings in an eye-searing checkerboard pattern, and a peach blouse that clashes rather badly with the rest of the ensemble. Her bare toes hang off the front edge of the chair and she's got a big book propped against her thighs, almost hiding her face from view. Seems she's studying up on American history.

*

Akihiro looks to be in a pretty bad mood as he enters the library, with his own books, two on Japanese history apparently checked out from some university. Though he looks so different if it weren't for his earrings he'd be hard to place. His head has been shaved completely, but it looks as if he hasn't bothered shaving all of his face this morning, as hair clings near his chin and above his lip, not quite full yet, but more than thick enough to notice. His leather jacket has been replaced too, now he wears a stripped shirt tucked into jeans, a pair of suspenders, and black boots.

The teen takes a seat not too far from Illyana, crossing his leg and oppening the book, only for him to close it and look up at the woman. "Excuse me," he says quietly, he's in a library after all, "have I introduced myself yet? Definitely seen you around, but I'm not sure if I know who you are."

*

A number of forgettable books from quiet corners of the library make an excellent step pyramid upon which to sacrifice ignorance. They form a very neat arrangement atop a table in the corner, guarded by a ring of pens in multiple colours, a pencil in a sharpener, and at least three crumpled balls of paper. The girl's long foxfire hair is strewn by bellflowers and delphiniums, a row of vibrant blue and purple. The ladder in place exists only to keep the librarians, if any, happy. She stands upon her tiptoe, reaching for one of the books, peering into its heart. She looks like the refugee from a music festival, what with the floral chaplet, the filmy peasant blouse belted around her waist, the long patchwork skirt showing at least a bit of leg. Fashionable styling meets bohemian. When she reaches for another volume wedged in the back, she can be easily overbalanced, and a firm tug on her part sends her sharply backwards when it comes free. Disaster might be courted thus. She flips over and drops to the ground, or rather, a table. A chess table, as it should happen, and whomever poised the black knight so probably wasn't expecting it to be checkmated by a ginger on her toes, held to a rather gravity defying crouch to avoid disrupting the rest of the game. She flexes upon her toes, and then stands up. Totally normal to be /on/ the board, the red queen.

*

Sam Guthrie hasn't been out of his dorm room much this month. When he has dragged himself out, it has been to lie in the sun or take slow ambles around the grounds; he prefers his rest cures to come with a decent amount of physical activity and fresh air. But with his condition improved and classes fast approaching, he finally has to face some of the less appealing indoor tasks that he has been avoiding

At the moment, he's shuffling around the library with a teetering Pisa of textbooks blocking his view, craning his neck to get a look at the typewritten list he has stuffed into one hand. He can't really read it from this angle, but he needs that hand to keep Mount Biblios from toppling. If he doesn't figure out a way to balance those two needs soon, he's very likely to either get bumped in this high-traffic area, or crane his way into a tumble all on his own.

*

Illyana peeeeeers up over the top of her book at Akihiro, and her brows lift a little as she's addressed.

"Golem attack," she says in a perfunctory manner, as if trying to jar his memory. "Burned your face off." She glances at his head, curiously, then looks at him quizzically. "You got better though. Why did you shave your head? Did you get a louse infestation?"

She transfers that cornflower blue gaze to Rogue and lifts three fingers from the edges of her book in a wave, the book dipping perilously from where it's balanced on her skinny legs. "I don't think you play the game like that," she advises Rogue, seriously, no trace of humor in her Slavic accent. "But I might be wrong."

She glances at Sam. Disaster's incipient, and she seems disinclined to warn him or get up out of the admittedly very comfortable chair she's all curled into.

*

"Yes," Akihiro says of the golem attack, and "No, I woke up covered in blood and had a chunk of my hair ripped out. So I just cut the rest of it off." of the louse infestation, clearly not too happy about that. "But, I'm Logan's son, Akihiro. Good to actually meet you," he holds off, giving her the chance to supply her name.

*

"Truly? I thought the strategy might include a more physical element for dynamism. Placing yourself at risk by entering the war makes chess more than an idle exercise." Her cautious step clears the row of white figures, and Scarlett steps sideways onto the tabletop, her triumphant, claimed gift still in gloved hand. She steps over without the evidence of a wobble, queen over the tabletop of library issues.

"You look well, Illy. Careful that you do not find that chair cares for you a little too well, and swallows you up." A tint of amusement colours the words with a frisson of mercurial teasing, nothing remotely serious about it.

Her vantage gives her an ideal opportunity to seek whether Sam is collapsed under a fabulous pile of books, the parchment avalanche not quite begun on the ridges. Her own ziggurat stands in dominion over the blank table, though she throws a wave in his direction. "All going well over there, Mr. Guthrie? Intrigued by the wonders of physics and elementary chemistry?" When she hops down, barely a hint of dust rises. A nod is given to Akihiro and his new styling. "Waking up in blood sounds… atypical."

*

Still a little out of sorts, Sam wasn't expecting to hear his name called; he startles when Rogue calls him, doing a quick partial spin to face her. This tilts his stack of books forward hazardously, and before anyone can intervene (not that anyone seems inclined to), they have avalanched out of his hands and slid across the tabletop, sending chessmen flying and chess players dodging out of the way. The Kentucky boy gapes, blushes, and starts to stammer out an apology even as they turn angry looks on him.

"Oh my God, Ah am so sorry!" he blurts out, thick drawl much louder than is customary for a library. He starts reaching out with gangly arms, sweeping the books back into a messy pile. There's nothing to be done about the chess game; no one without a photographic memory is going to be able to reconstruct the positions of the pieces. She's beauty, she's grace; he's a toppling disgrace.

*

"Sure," Illy says cautiously, of Akihiro's assertion it's good to be introduced formally. She's not disputing him…. but not quite agreeing, either. She is about to return her own name when Rogue interjects into the conversation, and she just closes her jaw and shrugs at Akihiro, tilting her tangled blonde head towards Rogue pointedly— question asked and answered.

She's about to respond to her friend, clearly a bit warmer towards Rogue than two the two relative strangers, but then Sam manages a /spectacular/ pratfall and she yelps, hiding behind the oversized textbook as a bishop and two pawns caroom towards her.

In the aftermath, she peers over her book, looking to Akihiro, then back at Sam.

"I'm pretty sure that's not how you play it, either," she says, after a beat.

*

"I rather prefer the idea of playing chess upon the floor anyways. Enough with the standard norms accepted for the game, which proves infinitely dreary and tiresome. Different strategies, the same board, the same pieces." The ginger reaches down to pick up a queen rolling past her toes, seizing the crown and lifting up that slender object to her viridian gaze. "Imagine how much more exciting matters might be did we adapt to a different standard. Perhaps the allure of Mahjongg or go has something to do with the deviations from our standard." Then she simply tucks the piece into her braids among the lattice of flowers, the faint, fragrant scent carried wherever Scarlett chooses to go.

With that proclamation, she bends to pick up several of the books on Sam's behalf. Being injured means that rarest of turns: a modern bohemian willing to offer assistance and do a chore. She sets the pile atop the table, sparing a few moments to square off the corners for an attractive appearance. "No harm, no foul. At least at the present."

*

"Smooth." Akihiro says, more playful than rude. "You alright?" he asks, pushing to his feet to assist in the cleaning up. "Don't think I've ran into you before either."

*

"Tell me somethin' Ah don't know," the flustered southerner replies to Illyana's coolly worded comment. "Ah don't think a textbook landslide would do your mar-bong game much good, either — whatever it is."

With Rogue's timely assistance — although the reversal of chivalrous norms seems to embarrass him even more — he manages to get his class texts neat and orderly, but just leaves the stack on the tabletop. He'd rather not risk another fall, and frankly, he didn't want the books all that much in the first place. He just starts backing away from the chess players, putting his palms out and making apologetic noises until he's out of reach.

This leaves him standing next to Illyana's armchair; he glances at her, seeming to recognize her for the first time. "You're the Eye-talian girl shot fire at the giant, right?" he ventures. "Sam Guthrie." He extends one hand toward her, and nods in a generally friendly way at Akihiro, whom he doesn't recognize. (At least this time it's reasonably clear that a haircut, not racism, is to blame.) This being a perfect opportunity to deploy what is quickly becoming his personal mantra, Guthrie answers him: "Ah'm fine."

*

"Russian. Not Italian." Illyana points a wiry, callused index finger at the large map of the Earth on the wall. "See there? Right side of map, giant landmass labelled 'Russia'. That's me. Russian." She points at America. "Smaller country there, America."

She then gestures vaguely at Europe. "Italian, somewhere in middle. Very small." If it weren't for that Cyrillic deadpan, she'd strike one as… almost smug?

She turns her bright blue eyes back to Rogue, sniffing, and rubs her wrist against her nose in an un-lady-like fashion. "Would hurt to step on pieces, though," she points out sagaciously, a few moments later. She keeps her knees propped up, though, that book held between her and the others as if a literal physical interdiction.

*

Another book lies atop the stack recreated with shocking angularity; something in the principles of feng shui apply here. Infernal rhythms guide Scarlett to sway slightly side to side, her hips moving along a liquid trajectory that ends in a slow swivel. Arms rise to shoulder height, hands brought together and raised to the sky, the electric shifts growing more complicated as she answers that uncertain rhythm.

Outside the breathy whisper of rain tumbles over the trees and builds from mounded clouds heaped higher than Ma Guthrie's mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving. A bit of rain could cool the mood and lighten the atmosphere, even if the thunderstorms rolling through the Northeast over August have been painfully few and far between.

All the while, the redhead dances her route 'round the table crowned by two pyramids now, and the wreckage of two armies brought low by a cannonball. "Perhaps we ought to review the territory of the former British Empire or the stake on Mars?" Mischief is as mischief does.

*

"Akihiro Howlett." Akihiro replies to Sam's nod with one of his own. "Good to meet you." he repeats, making an attempt at being pleasant. "You still all banged up from going through that window?"

*

Blushing again, Sam sags slightly, looking over at the map, then down at his battered Chuck Taylors. "Ah know where Russia is," he protests in a voice so small, Illyana probably can't even hear it. Taking a sidestep or two away from the girl and turning toward Rogue, he asks, "We got some kind of exchange thing with the Soviets? That's the second Russian Ah've met since Ah got here." He leans a little closer to her and whispers, "The other guy was a lot nicer, though."

Akihiro at least offers a change of subject — although the shift is to yet another incident that left a trail of destruction in Guthrie's wake. Sam reaches up and scratches at a spot behind his ear, looking characteristically sheepish. "Yeah, most of the bruises are gettin' better, and Ah finally got my energy back," he answers the other boy. "Ain't tried out my powers since, but Ah imagine they should be workin', too."

*

Kitty has been around for the better part of a week, but the majority of that time was spent in the med bay, except when she decided she was tired of being in the med bay, and slipped out. She is, as she keeps insisting, technically fine.

After days of testing, discussion, and debate, she's finally been given a clean bill of health and has been released.

Real freedom from questions and testing mean exploring old haunts left alone long-term. The library is no exception. She pads into the room rather slowly and grants the others present a smile and wave. "Hey… just needed a book — " before turning her attention to a single book on the shelf — a well worn copy of Jane Eyre. Her face scrunches, and she cringes as she plucks it from the shelf. A smirk plays over her features and her tongue clucks as she virtually skips towards one of the easy chairs in the room. She's not, however, paying attention to (or expecting) a chessboard on the floor, and her foot skids as it meets the board. Unfortunately, the floor and board both have slippery surfaces and one brushes easily against the other, causing Kitty to slide forward as her foot meets the board. Her body launches forward towards one of the bookshelves, and Jane Eyre slips from her grip as it does.

Fortunately the bookshelf doesn't teeter. Instead, she phases through it. A few beats pass before others can hear her throat clear, and she strolls around it. Her reappearance is a little worse for wear. Her hair, where it had been neatly ponytailed now is a splay of haphazard wisps. And her face is three shades of red.

*

Speak of the devil and he will appear — or, in this case, Piotr will. The undeniably more friendly of the two Russians ambles into the library not too long after Kitty does, his attention on a notepad held in one massive hand. He grumbles down at it, oblivious to the current crowd, and blindly navigates towards a table. Good news, Kitty. He's too distracted by whatever he's writing to have seen how graceful that was!

*

For whatever reason as suits her, the bohemian dances over to her ziggurat and sweeps up the books with complicated titles like 'A Study of Babylonian' and 'Holocene Horrors, An Interpretive Study of Megafauna' and then a few things not even in English. Interlibrary loans are a miraculous thing. Especially given the reach of Columbia, some subjects are worth having, though they are not the same as the resident library ghost falling through the bookshelves and possibly cursing Sam Guthrie for showing up. "I refuse to be blamed if you interrupted her game and you ambushed her," Scarlett throws Sam- and Illy ward, the amusement crackling around her so intensely that it might as well be a shroud. The slant influence of a trickster infusing her, she coyly bounds out the door, and dodges around Piotr in passing, singing, "Au revoir, Messieur de la Louvre!" in a ringing tone. And on that endorsement, out she goes to foment unrest, chaos, and confusion on the doorstep of someone's sanctum.

*

Despite her brazen lack of regard for social proprieties, Illyana's clearly more than a little withdrawn, and the spate of newcomers in the room threatens to overwhelm her. She quickly sets her book down and starts to slip out on silent, tiny bare feet, her mussy, tangled blonde hair bobbing as she makes a beeline for the door.

She glances over her shoulder just as Kitty curses and pratfalls herself, and her jaw drops when the girl recovers by dint of phasing into the bookshelf and emerging out the local side. Illy's eyes go wide, jaw dropping, then she promptly runs headfirst into Piotr's massive chest.

"Ow!" she yelps, stumbling back a half pace. She scowls up at her brother and punches him in the ribs with a small fist. "Be careful!" she scolds him, rubbing the side of her nose where she'd smacked headfirst into one of his rocklike thews.

*

"Man, this place is weird." Akihiro says, rubbing at the back of his neck as he watches everything. "It's cool." he nods approvingly before looking back at Sam. "Yeah, if I didn't have a healing factor I wouldn't have a face right now. So, I have that going for him."

*

It really can't be overstated how relieved Sam is when, for once, someone else enters a room and immediately does something clumsy and ridiculous. He starts forward to try and catch the girl when she hits the bookcase — both out of a sense of chivalry and pure klutzy solidarity — when she just passes through it, immaterial. His jaw goes slack, then his teeth click shut when she reappears. "That's neat," he offers, giving her a lopsided grin.

Piotr, when he enters, gets a cautious wave. After all but accusing the other boy of being a Soviet spy when they first met, Sam is willing to award any number of points for comparing favorably to Illyana's esteem-crushing scorn.

As he turns back to Akihiro, Sam's eyebrows lift in the center of his face. "Healin' factor?" It's not a phrase he's familiar with. "Is that what your power's called?"

*

"Thanks," Kitty grins at Sam and shrugs. "Fortunately it's also getting to be more instinct than it used to be. There was a time I would definitely be picking up all of the books." The crimson in her cheeks, remains, however, even as her spirits brighten from the remark.

Her nose wrinkles, and she glances between those who'd bore witness to her clumsiness, "Anyone see where Jane Eyre ended up? I had my heart set on…" her eyes narrow slightly "reading(?)" it's almost a question, "it." Her neck cranes to spy under any stray furniture, "Ihave no idea." But she does know the chessboard needs to be picked up. She bends down to collect the board and pieces.

*

As Scarlett bounds around him on her way out of the library, Piotr's eyes follow her with an amused twitch tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Have a good d—" He cuts off abruptly when he feels someone bounce off of his chest, immediately stopping in place so that he can't actually run them over, startled enough that the apology that comes out is in Russian.

Turns out that's okay, because the person he walked into will actually understand him. Piotr gives Illyana a genuinely apologetic look, and although it didn't actually hurt, he brings one hand up to rub the spot on his ribs where she punched him as if it had. "My fault. I did not sleep well. You are alright, Snowflake?" Piotr's not ignoring Sam, honest. He just has to check on the Queen of Limbo real quick.

*

"Yeah, Ah know how that can be," he says to Kitty, again scratching at the back of his head. "You're lucky, though. My power ain't much use for avoidin' makin' a mess," he adds. The chuckle that goes along with this comment dies quickly; he's still a little bit afraid to check whether his powers have come back after his brush with the Westchester Giant.

The slight warming of Kentucky's cold war with Lake Baikal turns out to be temporary: not only does the nice Russian appear to know the mean Russian, but now they're colluding in their own language. Sam narrows his eyes and sets his jaw, inwardly vowing to get to the bottom of this potential conspiracy.

Not just at the moment, though — the student chess players are stooping over, trying with Kitty to get their game pieces back, and that gives him an opening to scoop up his textbooks and make good his escape. Flashing an apologetic smile at Kitty and Akihiro, Sam does exactly that, scooting out of the library with his tower of books before anyone can object.

*

"Yes." Illyana turns and puts her back to Piotr, surveilling the room. Some might take that as a dismissal. Others might note she puts her back to no one, much like Akihiro and his sire.

"My brother. Piotr," she explains to everyone, like they don't know the giant Russian lumbering around with an artist's pad perpetually in his hands. Catlike, she asserts him as an adjunt to her person, rather than vice-versa. Though in fairness, Illyana seems to regard much of the world as existing for her distraction.

Then Kitty's doing something /sensible/, cleaning up the mess, and Illyana adds an approving nod. "Yes, well done. Very good not to step on pieces," she says, bare toes curling in the carpet.

She doesn't stoop to help, though.

*

"And somebody else I don't know." Akihiro offering Kitty a wave, before nodding at Piotr. "Akihiro," he introduces himself once more, before pointing his thumb towards the rear grounds, "Logan's son."

*

The students that are still trying to play chess are regarded with a sharp cluck of Kitty's tongue. She doesn't exactly tell them what to do, but also keeps gathering pieces and moving them to a table. Finally, she urges, "Just make sure no one will step on it, okay?" Her eyebrows lift expectantly, and with some measure of satisfaction at being an adult in this space,s he goes back to searching for her book. She shoots a nod towards Illyana, "Right? Sometimes things are just accidents waiting to happen!"

"Hi Akihito," she waves back with a lopsided grin. "Kitty." She pauses for a second and allows her gaze to shift. "I mean.." she squints, "I don't see a Kitty. That's my name. Kitty." Her eyebrows lift slightly and she offers, "I didn't know Logan had a son. Great to meet you!"

*

Piotr finds nothing unusual about Illyana turning her back towards him. He just smiles in quiet amusement as she introduces him to the room, despite how much longer he's actually lived at the Institute — though it's fair, really, word of their being family has likely not gotten far yet. "Good. I broke van yesterday," he admits, giving his sister a light pat ont he arm. "Would not want to break you too."

The larger Russian follows the smaller one's gaze towards Kitty, his expression growing momentarily somber — until Akihiro draws his attention away. Piotr blinks in surprise and offers a genuinely warm smile, extending a hand towards him for a shake. "Akihiro," he echoes, commiting it to memory (and trying to nail the pronunciation). He nods in agreement with Kitty's observation, still smiling. "I did not know either. Welcome to Institute."

*

Illyana blinks at Kitty's words, looking startled. "Accident… waiting to happen." She rolls the words around her mouth. "Accident. Waiting… to happen. Da, I like this," she says eagerly, turning expressive blue eyes over her shoulder at Piotr. "Is clever saying, da?" she inquires of him— her English sounds superb despite her accent, but it's clear she hasn't mastered the nuances of the tongue.

"And nevermind break me," she adds, the bright gaze turning into a withering reprimand.

She looks at Akihiro again, considering the fellow. "You know, no hair— not bad look," she concedes, finally. "It suits you small bit. I might try it too, it's too much work to keep hair clean." She runs her fingers through her straggly blonde hair— which looks to be about the extent of her haircare regimine, given how matted and frayed it is.

*

"He didn't either." Akihiro says over to Kitty, "I just kind of showed up.' His brows furrow slightly, "Just like the girl in that van." This is said to Kitty and Piotr. "She smells like family, has claws, heals fast," he reaches up to rub at the side of his now smooth head, "and she took some of my hair. She could have taken a finger, hand, or one of my teeth. I could have grown that back, but she had to cut my hair."

*

Kitty brightens further at Illyana's appreciation for the turn of phrase, "I think so. It's a good expression." Her head tilts slightly as her eyes flit between Illyana and Piotr. "So… you're Illyana then, right?" It seems like a logical conclusion because she can reason well enough. "Good to meet you. I hope you're liking the school. Definitely a good place to be."

Piotr's somber look causes Kitty's smile to falter momentarily, but she forces it further. "Well, it's good to have you, even if you were a surprise," she notes towards Akihiro. The mention of the girl in the van, prompts her lips to press together into a thin, "She was… formidable." She swallows hard, "And aggressive." Her teeth play at her bottom lip.

*

"Is very clever," Piotr confirms to Illyana, seeming to pause when her attention returns to Akihiro. He squints and peers critically down towards his younger sister's hair, his free hand coming up to try and fuss with it. In hindsight, he supposes there were not really showers in Limbo, were there. "Might need to cut some," he admits. "But we will try good wash first." Though it is an intimidating task.

Piotr looks back to Akihiro and Kitty now, blinking in confusion. "What girl in van?" he asks, his posture straightening. "I only saw men with guns."

*

Illyana is ruffled, and suffers the indignity with a scowl so profound it borders on theatrical. "Wash every day, wring dry. What else am I to do?" she asks him, in a snarky, rhetorical tone.

"I heard a little of this girl who fought," Illy says, confessing her ignorance. "She sounded formidable. What else do you know of her? Magical? I can kill her with my sword if she's a magus," she says.

"Or banish to Limbo. Either way— she's out of hair."

*

"No, pretty sure she isn't magical." Akihiro says to Illyana, one brow raised slightly. Right, magic. "But, she was in one of the vans, she ran off and I chased her. Short, dark hair, claws." He lifts his hand up to extend the two claws between his knuckles, "Same spot as myself, mostly. Just mine aren't metal."

*

Kitty's head cants to the side at Illyana, "You know…" her lips twist thoughtfully, "if you wanted help with your hair, I could take you somewhere for a haircut. I lived in Westchester for a good chunk of my life." She does lift a hand somewhat apologetically, "I'm not," she cringes slightly, "the fashion queen bee around here by any stretch, but I'd be happy to help if you wanted it." With an easier smile, she adds, "And we can aim to get you something that's easy to wear. The only thing you miiiiight want to change in your haircare regimen is adding combing or brushing to the washing and drying." She shrugs. "But if not, we could do that too."

A dubious look about the magic girl crosses Kitty's expression. "I agree with Akihiro, I don't think she was magical. She did seem to have some pretty rapid healing abilities though." A glance is cast towards Akihiro, "My experience with her was short, to be honest. She literally threw me out of a van." She lifts a hand as if anticipating some level of objection, "I'm fine. I've been thrown harder out of worse places."

Her throat clears, "That happened shortly before she went through the windshield of her own van. But she recovered quick."

*

Thank God for Kitty. Piotr has always worn his hair short, so 'what else am I to do?' is not really a question he is equipped to answer. She gets a very grateful expression from him when she offers to help Illyana out, taking his hand back without so much as an apology for mussing the blonde's hair. Rude.

"Her abilities do sound familiar," Piotr admits with a thin frown, loosely folding his arms across his chest. "Too many coincidences lately. I do not like it. But we should not jump so quickly to killing, Snowflake," he says in a slightly awkward tone, looking down at her. "Or to Limbo. I would not want to send anyone there, and we cannot ask questions if she is dead or banished."

*

"I cut hair with knife when too long," Illyana tells Kitty, looking confused. "Why would I need to go somewhere else to do it? And why do I need to comb, brush, /and/ dry?" She makes wringing motions with her hands, looking perplexed.

She attends Akihiro's words, then when Piotr chastises her, she rounds on him and thumps him in the pectoral with the back of her bony hand, chattering at him in grating Russian.

"If she is trouble, she should be killed. If you're still to soft to even stomp on caterpillar, then I will banish her to Limbo. I can question her all I want, I'll stick her a wasp's nest with S'ym and see how she likes a thousand stings." She jabs him in the chest again. "And you! Fat lot of good you are, you're made of metal. Go pick her up and hug her until her bones crack, that will solve the problem just fine," she says, with a dismissive flick of her hand. "Honestly how have you gotten along the last few weeks without me around?" she says, with a harrumph that needs no translation.

*

"Yeah, no. Despite what we're accustomed to, we can't just run around killing people." /Akihiro/ said this, which is odd considering how much he likes to hit things. "Besides, she may be related to me, I'd appreciate if we tried the nonlethal approach first."

*

There's a small shrug of Kitty's shoulders at Illyana's questions, "It's not that a person has to comb, brush, and dry, it's that's expected of them here." Her lips press together for a moment as she tries to think of a creative way of explaining it. "So, when I walked in here, and," she rolls her eyes, "very gracelessly slipped on a chessboard, and almost knocked over a bookshelf, you probably made an opinion about me, right? When you came to this school, you started to think about the people one way or another. It's normal. We all do it." She manages a flicker of a smile following this, "Looking a certain way can help a person fit in. Most women I know wash, dry, and comb their hair to keep is smooth looking." Instinctively, Kitty tugs the ponytail out of her hair and runs her hands through it.

"They also get someone else to cut it to help them keep it smooth, shiny, and so they feel good about it." She hmmm quietly, "So, while you don't have to do anything with your hair at all, I'd be happy to take you to get a haircut," her nose wrinkles, "but only if you want to. It might help you adjust to being with us. And to help you blend in here."

Thoughts of killing the woman in the van cause her to cringe. "I don't think it's that simple." She swallows hard. "The people that she was with…" her nose wrinkles and her teeth chew her bottom lip, cutting off the thought, and going with another line of reasoning. "I agree, killing isn't a good option. It's easy to assume someone is responsible, but there's always circumstances that drive people to do what they do. We have to understand why someone does something before passing judgment."

*

As Illyana makes her opinion very much known, Piotr holds his hands up defensively but allows her to rail with a silent grimace. These exchanges were much different when the girl was six. You know. Two weeks ago. If not for the topic being lethal justice, the way the big man is shrinking away from the much smaller young woman as she prods him would probably be a very comical sight. "No wasps," he replies in stern-sounding Russian, rubbing his chest where she's jabbed him. "No banishing. No killing. If she is family, we should be protecting her, not ending her."

Piotr flicks his eyes to Kitty and Akihiro, quietly clearing his throat. "…apologies," he mumbles sheepishly, his english a touch more heavily accented with his sister there. "You say she smells like family, and so we will try to find her. Safely." He braces for another smack from his sister, keeping his eyes on Akihiro and Kitty. "The man who called retreat, he mentioned a base camp. It cannot be far. Perhaps this girl is there. Could you track her, do you think?"

*

Illyana looks at all three of them and then rolls her eyes with an expressiveness that could slay a dragon. But she's clearly a bit chastised when Piotr puts an end to the argument in stern sounding Slavic accentals, and she consoles herself by folding her arms across her chest, exhaling in a huff, and staring sideways at something across the room from under sullen brows.

Her entire posture screams, "Thanks, /dad/."

"Still easy to banish her to wasp nest," she mutters, under her breath.

Finding herself overruled on that particular point, she looks back to Kitty, relenting a little. "Dr. Strange says, I should adapt and blend," she admits, reluctantly. "And yes. Made opinion, assumed clumsy. Will assume so until you prove otherwise." She's not particularly /mean/ about that observation, at least. "So da, hair clean. Not sure what good it will do, but if it's what is done, then I will do it," she says, with a resigned shrug of her lean shoulders.

*

The look that Illyana squares them with has Kitty sucking on the inside of her cheek. A person doesn't have to speak Russian to understand they're bearing witness to an argument.

But Kitty blazes past it easily enough. "Well you may have assumed correctly, I can be clumsy, but I can hold my own when needed," she shoots back with an easy grin. Her hands clap together and she clasps them lightly, "Excellent. I think Dr. Strange gave you some sound advice there. We'll look for some magazines," pause, Illyana might not know what that is, "pictures of hairstyles, and see what you like. Then we'll take you somewhere to get it cut."

*

"Da, that is good," Illyana tells Kitty, agreeably. The other girl's wilingness to engage seems to have mollified the small blonde girl's momentary irritation with the hulking lummox standing just behind her left shoulder. "Will this cost money? How much will I owe you for your time? I have twelve dollars left from Professor's allowance," she says proudly, having no idea how much money that really is.

*

A small, rather knowing smile crosses Kitty's features, "It will cost money. I can pitch some in too this time; I had a job in the South when I was there." A smirk crosses her features, "Evidently activism doesn't pay money." Her head ticks to the side, "Working retail does."

An all too satisfied smile pulls Kitty's features upwards and she nods once before glancing at Piotr. "And I'm sorry to say this, but men's haircuts are always cheaper than women's." Her nose wrinkles, "It's one of many injustices in life."

*

For whatever reason, Piotr shifts his notepad back behind his back when Illyana mentions her allowance. "Is not fair… but yours is more work, I think," he tells Kitty helplessly, shrugging his shoulders. "For me, they usually just use clipper. Not so complicated." Women's hair care is well beyond his understanding.

*

Illyana frowns at Kitty and shakes her head at the offer of money, almost cutting over Piotr's words. "Pitch in— you pay? No, I cannot accept that," she says, a bit stiffly. "We must be fair and equitable. You help me with hair, I help you with something. Do you need… help with carrying books? Or someone killed? Or want to learn small amount Russian language?" she offers. "Is bad karma to accept without offering something in return."

*

Kitty's eyebrows lift at the laundry list, particularly the bit about having someone killed. "You really don't have to do anything — " but Kitty stops mid-sentence. "Actually, I would like to learn some Russian, if you'd be willing to teach me. I love languages. Picked up some Japanese while I was there awhile ago. It'd be nice to have another one under my belt."

*

Piotr keeps his notepad behind his back and, though he says nothing when Illyana's list of offers includes assassination, the big man suddenly looks rather tired. "I can help practice what she teaches you," Piotr offers, forcing himself to ignore the offer. He'll address it with her later. "Is least I can do. My english would be terrible if you and others here had not been so patient."

*

"Da, then we have deal. You help with hair, I teach you Russian." Illyana sticks a hand out at Kitty for a shake, utterly missing Piotr's sagging shoulders. "We make day and have plan then. Thank you, Kitty. Is good to meet you." She turns to her brother, then without any self-consciousness gives him a big hug, though it's a bit of a stretch to get her fingertips around his thick trunk. "And you, Piotr. I must be going, though— I have lesson with Dr. Strange."

She steps back, then takes two steps towards the bookcase. The first step summons a softly glowing yellow circle under her feet, and with the next, she simply… vanishes.

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