1963-08-26 - A Day Ending In 'Y'
Summary: Piotr comes another step closer to an ulcer. Just another day out with his little sister.
Related: It's Chinatown
Theme Song: None
illyana dagger piotr 


Dagger doesn't know preceisely who she should talk to at the Institute to check up on the girl she and Cloak dropped off recently, but she *is* pretty sure she shouldn't turn up uninvited. But there are other options available, skills she has honed from two years fighting and chasing the criminal element back in the city and beyond. Skills certain to work in this case.

Dagger tugs her jacket a little, adjusting the way it lays over her heroing costume. She's going to wait fro someone to come out… AND ASK THEM. DUN DUN DUN

*

There is just one problem with this plan. Dagger does not catch someone coming out of the Xavier Institute — someone catches her on their way back in.

The school's facilities were great, but sometimes Piotr wanted to get out and have some fresh air. With everything that had been happening lately, this was one of those times. A jog through Westchester had been just what the doctor ordered. That does mean, however, that there is a very large man in an Xavier Institute t-shirt and sweatpants approaching the gate, where there is… someone he doesn't recognize.

Slowing to a walk, Piotr cocks his head to one side and studies Dagger from afar. This is… probably nothing. He hopes.

*

Dunno, Piotr, she's a nice-lookiing sunny blonde with a winning smile dressed mostly in white… But this is Xavier's so she's probably literally evil incarnate come to destroy everything. Still… pretty unassuming. Medium height, hands tucked into her jacket pockets, leant back against the wall next to the gate and occassionally leaning to peek and see if anyone's maybe coming along. "Okay, maybe this wasn't a great idea," Dagger muses to herself while taking a peek. Which puts her facing away from Piotr because of course it does. Maybe she should have brought Cloak… haha no, that's ridiculous, he'd DEFINITELY freak someone out.

*

Walking in the fresh air does not equate to peacefulness, regrettably. Illyana's with her brother, and telling him a rather gory story involving several demons. She waves her hands through the air like a child fending off imaginary attackers, except there's the sure knowledge she can summon a living weapon to her hand in a moment.

Aside from that, though, she's wearing a white sundress and walking next to her brother, who has a solid 12" of height on her— and it looks like nothing so much as a young child rambling about imaginary monsters while her brother listens tolerantly.

"<and /then/ my sword stopped listening to me, which was weird, so I picked up a gutting knife and demons have this little spot here, if you poke it, they explode ichor all over. Very odd, I don't know why, but so then I'm completely covered in intestines and green gore. Demons bleed green, did you know that?>" Her Russian cuts off abruptly as she spots Piotr, and she steps immediately in front of her brother with a protective scowl on her face.

"Whozzis?" she asks. "She looks… …familiar…" Illyana's eyes widen, and then she hisses in fury and rushes Dagger, gathering fire and shadow into her hands and her face alight with a terrible rage!"

*

Okay. Piotr does not recognize the woman by the gate, but Illyana seems to — and apparently, Illyana still needs to learn about proportionate response. The 'hiss' is enough to get his attention and his eyes go wide in surprise. Without thinking, he snaps a hand out to try seizing his little sister by the scruff, apparently not nearly as intimidated by the fire and shadows and rage as he really ought to be. "Illyana!" he hisses. "<Explain first!>"

*

Dagger spots Illyana while she's still puzzling it out, and promptly beams. "Oh! Hey, You're okay! I'm so gla" Ohhell. Dagger's gotta be honest she just wishes this was the first time she's had this happen to her. It's actually… kind of depressingly frequent, and she reacts the way someone that's been practicing street vigilante-ism for a while tends to— she takes a flipping leap backwards to get some distance and time to evaluate the situation, tossing her jacket off in favor of the far less restrictive jumpsuit underneath. You know, the stylish one with the dagger emblem on the front that screams 'superpowers'.

*

Illyana's swept off the ground before she can do more than literally fume and smoke furiously at Dagger, Piotr effectively neutralizing the blonde witch by scruffing her and aiming her the wrong way.

"<That's the bitch that gave me a concussion!>" she screams in Russian, kicking and failing at Piotr about as effectively as a mouse caught by a cat. She hammers small, hard fists on his forearm. "<Get off! You lummox! Let me down! I can take her! PUT ME DOWN! PIOTR NIKOLIVENA RASPUTIN, PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!>" she screams, as loudly as she can. She flails and reaches across the dozen or so yards at Dagger, and for all her flailing, gets all of six inches closer.

*

As he holds his little sister aloft, Piotr's eyes flick from blonde to blonde, his brow knit together as he tries to listen to them both at once and perform some mental arithmetic. Illyana's screaming would be distracting even if she wasn't actively punching him in the arm and trying to wriggle out of his grip, and then the other girl backs off and adopts a posture he very much recognizes. Oh, boy.

"Illyana. Snowflake. Calm down, please," Piotr rumbles, his free hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I do not think she is here for rematch. Are you?" He turns his head towards Dagger and raises his eyebrows expectantly.

*

Dagger, for her part, has landed neatly from her— somewhat premature— evasive leap. Now she's kind of leaning subtley away from Illyana's shrieking form— also, one supposes, the very large man— Though her expression is more like she found something unpleasant on her doorstep early in the morning than fear of the angry Illyana.

Blink blink. Oh, he asked her a question. There was a lot of yelling she didn't understand. "Ah… no. My partner and I dropped her off the other day and I wanted to follow up," she says in a somewhat wary tone of voice, eyeing Illyana a bit sidelong. Which is ridiculous, considering there's like a good fifteen feet between them. Still.

*

Illyana fights like a cat, wrestling, hissing, flailing, and finally at one point just going limp. Passive resistance!

At length, she gives up the fight and taps Piotr's forearm. "Put me down, please," she says, a bit waspishly. She scowls furiously at Dagger, but doesn't charge the other woman again.

"You hurt me," she accuses. "I remember now, before I blacked out— dozens of those shards of light. They /hurt/. It felt like needles in my brain. What did you do to me?" she demands, rubbing her temple unconsciously.

*

It isn't until his sister literally taps out that Piotr warily, gently, sets her back onto her feet and releases her. He does take a moment to smooth her clothes back over her shoulders, at least. There. Like it never happened.

He keeps an eye on her to make sure another attempt doesn't get made. Rather than speak, Piotr falls quiet to let the pair work things out, though Dagger does get a reassuring smile aimed her way.

*

Dagger relaxes, once Illyana seems willing to talk it out. She places one hand on her hip, the other raising an index finger to lightly scratch her cheek, just under the odd near-shimmer of the white crescent around her eye. "You seemed quite out of control. And unconcerned about collateral damage. My light daggers are usually quite safe— they only stun." She gives Illyana a thoughtful look. "I suppose there are… beings unusually sensitive to the effect. I don't know everything about what I do." A pause. "And you hit your head when you feel. I'm sorry about all that— I was attempting to be gentle and there were not many options."

*

"I was in control," Illy grates. Dagger's words strike a nerve, it seems, and her fingers curl into small fists. "Those modyaks were trying to /kill/ me. I was shot. Twice!" She rips up the hem of her dress, disregarding propriety, and shows Dagger the two bullet wounds in her lower ribcage, now almost healed. "And then you complain that I attack them in response?" She makes a digusted sound, flinging her hands into the air. "Regarding nothing, those daggers /hurt/," she growls.

*

It's almost alarming, really, how quickly Piotr is growing accustomed to things like this. He just closes his eyes and continues to hold the bridge of his nose between his fingers, drawing in a slow, steadying breath. He doesn't know enough to interject either way, so he does not.

*

Now that's she's gotten her feet, Dagger doesn't seem too impressed. Or inclined to back down just because Illy's upset and yelling. Her hands just go to her hips, as 'stubborn young rich girl' combines with 'experienced street vigilante', and leans into the argument a little. "Oh, I'm sure whatever you were going to do to them was just a walk in the park," she retorts a little acidly. "Speaking of that, has noone taught you about guns? Or for that matter, gangsters? You may as well have aimed their guns FOR them." her head tilts. "And regarding nothing," she adds pointedly, "you sure didn't seem to care much about what that whole affair did to the noodle place you tore up. My partner's there helping them clean up today, incidentally. Maybe you should join him."

*

Illyana lets loose a blistering ultimatum in Russian with enough force that her recently departed mother might actually return from the grave to tan her bottom. She lunges at Dagger again, swearing sulferously, but Piotr's sturdy hand on her shoulder keeps her from making it more than an arm's length closer.

"Some good you did, 'hero!'" she sneers. "Right in front of you, woman shot twice— lucky for you I /am/ Sorceress Supreme!" she declares, hotly. "Else would be /dead/ on sidewalk. Don't stand smug by my brother and tell me that you did so well when it was /my/ abilities that kept me from bleeding to death— and I didn't see YOU running off any of those" (insert Russian expletives, at length) "who're breaking up that place!"

*

The grip Piotr has on his sister's shoulder is firm, though not enough to actually hurt. He's a very good judge of his own strength — even when the corner of his mouth has begun to twitch in irritation, his jaw clenched tight.

God help him. There are two of them.

"That. Is. ENOUGH." Piotr doesn't snap outright at the pair, but he does adopt a tone of voice that he is hoping will leave no room for disagreement. "What, exactly, is this accomplishing?"

*

"Supremely arrogant, maybe. It takes time to get off a roof, princess. And besides, I disarmed three of them before you pulled your little Dark Lady of the Abyss stu—" Piotr manages to cut her short. Small miracles. She frowns thinly, then remembers she's standing around on the sidewalk outside the Institute with her dagger on display, as it were. She retrieves her jacket and pulls it on, agitated more that she let Illyana get to her than anything, really. "Whatever. You're fine. Great." She fluffs her hair out of the jacket collar so it hangs loose. "You're welcome."

*

"QUEEN." The Princess comment strikes a nerve, and Illyana starts to shake— not just in her muscles, but the air around her, taking on a cold, shadowy aspect as fury courses through her veins. "I am a QUEEN, the ruler of Limbo and Sorceress Supreme! You peasant, how DARE you address me— I will WEAR YOUR FACE LIKE A HAT!" Thankfully, Piotr's firm grip on her clavicle tightens down a bit, and Illyana makes a sound likke a bullfrog being stomped on.

"Glaaahk ow ow ow da— da, I stop," she whimpers, trying to wriggle out from under those giant sausages Piotr calls fingers, the shadows vanishing into the sunlight.

*

The tightness of Piotr's expression is only growing moreso as he grasps his sister's shoulder, his nostrils flaring in response to the palpable fury that begins to radiate off of her. Nyet. Nope. Nuh-uh. He is having none of this. A very carefully precise squeeze, and… ah. There.

"Thank. Her. For. Bringing. You. Home." Piotr says the words very slowly and very firmly through gritted teeth, blue eyes fixed very much upon Dagger even though it is Illyana to whom he speaks. At least, at first. Then, he raises his voice slightly. "And you. Apologize for causing her pain." Before Dagger even has a chance for a 'but,' he raises his eyebrows expectantly. That is the expression of a parent who is ready, willing, and able to break out with I DON'T CARE WHO STARTED IT, YOU FINISH IT.

*

Dagger looks like she's thinking of just abandoning this whole sorry affair as a bad idea, but closes her eyes while she counts out numbers. She gets to fifteen, then takes a breath, and closes the gap between her and Illyana. She meets the other girl's eyes. "I'm sorry. And also for calling you names. I don't think either of us likes being wrong about anything." Look, she can be an adult, okay, Giant Russian Man? She even manages not to sulk about getting called on the carpet. Her head gives a little nod upwards, but she asks the question of Illyana. "Is he always like this?"

*

Illy's fury is squelched by that grip, and Piotr's firm tone douses her ire like a bucket of water on a grill. There's a hiss of steam, but she rapidly cools off, and Dagger's apology and Piotr's ire checks the last of her fury.

"Mrgh— nff— grr. Yes. Fine," she says, in muttered exasperation. She gives Dagger a cold look, trying to gather some of her dignity again.

"Thank you. For… bringing me… home," she grates, mostly meaning it.

She flicks her eyes at Piotr, angled daggers, and nods at the woman. "Yes. Almost always. He is no fun at parties, either," she says, a bit waspishly.

*

"You have not been to a party with me since you were six," Piotr notes in a low grunt, releasing his grip on Illyana's shoulder now that the crisis appears to be averted. He takes a moment to give her shoulder a far gentler squeeze in silent apology.

Piotr runs both of his hands back over his hair and turns around, taking a few steps away and mumbling under his breath. Now it's his turn to calm down. "<'Is he always like this'? What, a reasonable adult? Yes, yes he is, how terrible —>"

*

Well, Dagger *was* going to appreciate him, but then he walked away. She still does, just now he's not there to enjoy it. She watches him, and her eyes flick to Illyana. "Lucky. My parents didn't care enough," she muses quietly. If they had, maybe she wouldn't be some drug-altered freak girl arguing with the Limbo Queen of the Beach. Ohwell, she wouldn't have Tyrone in her life either, so it's not all horrible. "I *am* sorry they hurt. That isn't normal. Usually it's just a bit disorienting and maybe you get knocked out have weird dreams of all the crappy decisions in your life. I still don't understand what's with that part if I'm honest."

*

Piotr's lack of Zen is his problem. Illyana leaves her brother to sulk and faces Dagger, the woman's contrition mollifying her ire somewhat. "I am much of me, demon more than human," Illyana explains to Dagger. There's no negative connotation to the word— just another species of eldritch being, in her mind. "It is possible that your magics simply sink deeper into me, because there is comparatively so little darkness in the human soul." She doesn't seem particularly /concerned/ about the factuality of that statement, either. Hope Piotr's not listening to closely.

*

He hasn't gone very far. Even if Piotr is listening, however, he does not respond. Neither the time nor place to really delve into those conversations. He just finds himself a relatively clear patch next to the wall that fences the Institute off from the street and drops down into a crouch, slowly dragging both of his hands down across his face and mumbling quietly into his palms. He's fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.

*

Dagger has been called an angel— and a demon— too many times to be all that surprised or put off ny Illyana's explaination. This… may as well happen. Her life's already so weird. So she just nods a little. "That… makes some sense. My partner doesn't react the same as most people, either, and he's… um…" how to explain… "…pretty much Darkness given form. Sometimes I wonder how much coincidence can possibly play into it." She refrains from correcting Illyana's assumption regarding her powers being magic. It's not like she knows they're not, and they may as well be for all the sense it makes.

*

"Ah, da, I see— makes sense." She turns and frowns at Piotr's back. "Piotr! You are being rude. Come back here, make with the talking," she says, sounding eerily like their maternal grandmother.

"I suppose I cannot stay too angry. Was more embarassed— I am Illyana Nikolivena Rasputin," she says, offering Dagger a very un-lady-like handshake. "You fight well. I am most impressed by your magics, they were much stronger than I had given credit for."

*

Piotr's shoulders jump at this, his fingers twitching as he twists in place to give his sister a look. "What are — I am being —" He shuts his mouth and sucks a deep breath in through his teeth. Calm. He is calm. Remember: everything is FINE.

Very slowly, Piotr rises back to his feet and makes his way back towards the pair, massive arms crossed over his chest for lack of anything better to be doing with his hands. He glances between the two with just a touch of lingering wariness.

*

"That was mean," Dagger says lightly, in response to Illyana's call to her brother, but not until he's in easy reach. She gives his shoulder a light, friendly little punch, then blinks and shakes out her hand. Wow. Solid. "You're very patient… Piotr, was it?" she's American, all right, she can't really pronounce it properly. She's from Ohio, sue her. "I owe you an apology, too." Then she grins brightly at Illyana. The compliments have her positively glowing. Almost literally, actually. "Thanks, you should see me really pour it on. That's exhausting, though. You were scary as hell, by the way. If I hadn't seen so much over the last couple years…" She shrugs, taking Illy's handshake in kind. She doesn't have much use for 'ladylike' anymore. "Dagger. Or Tandy." It's all the same to her, most of the time.

*

"Is well met, Dagger-or-Tandy," Illyana says, misreading the name entirely. "Is strange name, but— Russian, I suppose my name is strange to you. My brother, who you seem to know." She looks up at Piotr and unleashes her most devastating maneuver— she smiles winningly up at him, clearly having no memory or him restraining her or notion that her words might have born heavy barbs. All's forgiven and forgotten, in her mind. She's weirdly fickle and yet consistent, that way.

"Da, I will be scarier in few years. I am re-learning much in the way of magic," she admits to Dagger-or-Tandy. "Meanwhile, I can at least protect Piotr." She pats Piotr's forearm, looking not remotely bothered by the massive height differential between them.

*

Piotr's eyes just kind of follow Dagger's fist when it goes for his shoulder. Yeah, not even a flinch. The way he reaches up to rub the spot where she struck him is entirely an affectation he's picked up from his time at the Institute — people seem less unsettled if he acknowledges these things. "It is fine," he replies in a tired-sounding rumble. He's been saying this a lot lately. He does, however, take a turn and offering his hand for a shake. "Tandy. Thank you for bringing her home."

He eyes his sister with a very slight, suspicious narrowing of his eyes. That winning smile is just making Piotr nervous. Probably healthy. "…I appreciate it. We do need to talk some, though," he sighs, reaching over to rest one of his hands on the top of his sister's head. "This is not Limbo. You are too quick to violence."

*

Dagger giggles a little. "Just Tandy. Or just Dagger. It's one or the other," she explains, and thinks a little, before brightening. This time she does glow. Briefly. There's sort of a sense of warmth and… well, she feels nice to be near when she glows, is the upshot. "Two names, for different things. Like this— Tandy," she says, gesturing over her jacket street clothes look, then pulls the jacket off and repeats it for her supersuit. "And Dagger. Kind of like that." She cranes to nod a Piotr. "No problem. I did feel kind of bad it took so long to get into the scuffle, and about her head on the sidewalk. It was a good thing one of your people was around, only place we've got to take people is an abandoned church or the hospital." And she doesn't need to explain she doesn't think hospitals are a good choice.

*

"Mmhm. Is good to meet you, Tandy." Illyana gets it! Superhero by night, person by day. Of course, Illyana introduces herself as the Queen of Limbo to anyone who asks, so it's not like she AGREES with the idea of a secret identity— but c'est la vie. Diferent strokes.

"I do not much understand code names, but they are important to Piotr, so— will try to not make mistake." She wriggles her bare toes in the grass, and from the dust on them it's clear that Illyana generally prefers to go around unshod, despite how unladylike it is.

*

Piotr isn't going to question why he's rapidly beginning to feel less tense. The last few weeks have been stressful enough that he's prepared to simply be thankful for the respite and take it as it comes. "I am sure you did your best," he assures Tandy, finally cracking a smile.

When Illyana makes her mention of his opinion on code names, Piotr's expression does not change. He just… closes his eyes, leaving his hand on top of his sister's head. Fine. This. This is fine.

*

Dagger smirks a little as Piotr reacts. "Don't worry, I meet lots of people in the business, so to speak. I don't really care that much about keeping Tandy secret, it's just useful sometimes. But I don't go talking out of turn." Also she doesn't know his. It's fine. It's alllll fine. "Anyway… I should probably check in with Cloak soon," she muses, tilting her head to look thoughtfully at Illyana. "Do you do ice cream?"

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