1965-02-21 - You Must Bite The Hot Pizza
Summary: Illyana drags Piotr for pizza at her favorite spot, and they run into Delphyne.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
piotr illyana delphyne 

It's been a little while since Delphyne first arrived in New York, but one thing she still does like? Pizza. Of course, with her hobbies, burning off the calories isn't really a problem… not that people worry about that in 1965. She's sitting inside the eatery, as it's way too cold for her outside in general, as she has the hood drawn up over her dark blue coat. Though the green skin is visible since she's not wearing gloves as she waits for her pizza to come to the booth.

It is Illyana's favorite pizza place in the city — and so it should be little surprise to anybody when a disk of blinding white appears in an alley, and she steps out of it — possibly dragging Piotr by the elbow. "You have been gone for ages," she says. "You are coming with me to have pizza and tell me where you have been, Piotr Nikolaevich, or I will be angry." She stops, peers up at her big brother. "Few people like me when I'm in a good mood. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

"Yes, well, I am old enough to remember your tantrums as a child. They were epic enough back then, I wouldn't want to see them now," Piotr says with a chuckle that doesn't quite meet his eyes. There's something the matter, but nothing he can do about it right now. "Pizza sounds just fine," he mutters as he walks along with his sister towards the eatery.

Delphyne blinks as the door opens and the pair walk in. The taller man she doesn't recognize, but she smiles as she recognizes, "Illyana! It's been a while!" She waves, gesturing to the empty seats in her booth as she looks happy to see the person that got her hooked on pizza in the first place.

"Delphyne!" responds Illyana. It is without as much enthusiasm, but this is Illyana Rasputina. She is a cool character — some might even say chilly. Enthusiasm is rarely a thing with her. With the possible exception of where things involve the man she's dragging along. "This is my brother, Piotr," she adds. "Piotr, say hello to the nice gorgon." She can tell that Piotr's got something weighing on him, but Illyana is not generally the best person for talking things out anyway. She intends to force a semi-ebullient evening on him until he breaks down from sheer force of her will — or sheer annoyance, either way — and tells her what's wrong.

Sheer amount of pizza consumed is also acceptable.

Piotr gives a nod, a soft smile, and even a half wave. "Hello, nice gorgon. I am Piotr and pleased to meet you." The large Russian notices her gesture and slides into the seat, leaving enough from for his sister. "What is the best kind of pizza here?"

Delphyne smiles over at Piotr, "You can call me Del, if you like. And I am a nice gorgon." She pulls the hood back from her jacket, revealing the serpents that she has instead of hair, "Also, now I'm a private investigator, as that… ah, what's the saying, 'pays the bills?'" Her lips quirk a bit, as she looks back over towards Illyana, "You've been alright?"

"I've had to put down two insurrections in my domain," says Illyana with a shrug, "but I've been fine. The only truly bad insurrection is the one you fail to stop." Her eyes go to Piotr once more, and she tilts her head, props it on one hand. "Truly, brother, you know little of pizza. The point is not to get the best. It is to eat the greasiest and most overloaded with toppings. I will order for you." She waves to the waiter — it's not often she comes here and doesn't just get slices to go, but it is a special occasion. Her brother is back. "We will take a large pizza, Sicilian crust, pepperoni, sausage, extra cheese, mushrooms, and…" She pauses, grinning with an almost evil expression. "Do you have beets?" She's laying on her accent much thicker than usual.

Piotr makes a face and mouths to Delphyne, "Beets?" He exhales, "Del." He tries out the name once and gives her another nod, clearly approving. "It is a nice name. How long have you known my sister?"

Delphyne nods slightly, "I came here about… a year ago, I think. We met here and she introduced me to pizza." She gives Yana a wry look, "Though she was nice enough not to try and get beets on my pizza." Then she passes a look over at Piotr, "But it's nice to meet you, Piotr. Don't worry, the pizza is great here. Though no beets. I don't think." She hrms at that.

Illyana elbows Piotr. "They are traditional to our people, moi brat." However, the waiter says they have no beets. "A shame. No beets. Uncle Vanya would be very disappointed." She makes a moue and waves for the waiter to put in the order. "That will be fine. Beets are not an Italian thing, I suppose." Mischief, thy name is 'Yana.

"I know they are traditional," Piotr says as he turns his head, looking at Illyana. "Just not on pizza. That is most /un/traditional." He begins to mutter, "Uncle Vanya would not put beets on pizza. A man of good sense."

Delphyne grins, "And here I was going to ask if you could do deliveries, if I ever start a pizza place back where I'm from. While they frown on things from Man's World… I'm sure there'd be an exception made for pizza." She winks at Illyana, then looks over at Piotr curiously, "So you've had pizza before?"

"We are Russian, Piotr. We must have our own traditions," Illyana says. "Italians may have their pepperoni and sausage, and we shall have our beets. Or not." This is the manic Illyana — coquettish, silly. Sometimes she pictures herself as Audrey Hepburn in 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'. "I will deliver anywhere but the Kremlin," she adds. "That place is far too stuffy."

Piotr nods his assent, "I have had pizza before, but not many times. That much cheese is not healthy. For anyone." To say nothing of the grease. But he has had it, nonetheless from time to time. "If you say so, Illyana."

Delphyne hmms and looks at Piotr, "Well, you can probably afford it, I bet. But then, I have an… unusual metabolism, so I burn it off pretty quickly I guess." She grins at Illyana, "And that's great, though… I'm not sure if you can teleport there. There's some pretty serious protection involved. Hrm."

Illyana shakes her head. "My brother is a spoilsport," she observes to Del, the gleam in her blue eyes bright. Clearly she's delighted to have her brother near again. And she will egg him on until he spills his fears. To Del she shrugs. "I can always leave it just outside the protection spells. Knock on the wall. That sort of thing."

"I am a voice of reason. And a protective one at that," Piotr adds quicky. He leans up on the table and looks up towards the front of the eatery to see if he can't spy the menu. Not that it matters, Yana will order for them. But it's nice to know what's available.

Delphyne nods, "Well, I can relate to that. Back on the island, I was part of the Royal Guard, so I had to shepherd the Princess. That was fun. Especially giving her weapons training." She grins at that, and looks over at Illyana, "Well, I'm not planning on going back anytime soon, I guess… there's too much happening here for me to just leave."

"Overprotective," says Illyana, sticking out her tongue. What could come for her that is worse than ten years in hell? Not much! But she does not say these words — they would only make Piotr sad. "Indeed," she says to Del. "Leaving New York is like leaving a party that never stops." Illyana, admittedly, does not often go to parties.

"I have been called worse," Piotr admits. "I would very much like to go home at some point," he says. "But I also admit that I do have a fond feeling about the United States."

Del tilts her head, "Well, all I know about Russia is that they are fighting with America because reasons, and that it's too cold there. Then again, winter here is too cold for me." Which would explain all the extra bundling, even indoors.

Illyana wrinkles her nose. "They hate Sovietskiy Soyuz for a reason, brat. Terrible empire of men leading poor people by the nose." Admittedly, she left Russia when she was six. While she goes back on occasion to visit the parents, her opinions are formed by American television and radio and newspapers. "And yes, it is far too cold there. We come from Siberia, Del. The land is called tundra because it freezes solid in the winter. It is snow and dirt forever!"

"These issues are very complex," Piotr responds, but doesn't elaborate. He's old enough to remember conversations around the table; memories of collectivization and the horrors of the changes that came to the countryside. Also, he has been to Mutant Town.

Delphyne makes a face at the snow and dirt mention, "Ugh, I'm cold blooded, I couldn't handle that. Definitely couldn't handle a terrible empire either." She shakes her head, "Here, though, I can stay in Mutant Town… even though I'm not a mutant." She grins, "I guess being a gorgon is close enough, eh?"

Illyana knows that Piotr is far more globally aware than she is. But still, she teases: one hand rises and she flaps her thumb against her other fingers, affecting a deep voice. "These issues are very complicated. Ochen slozhno!" A wink at Piotr. "One can hardly tell the difference, Del," she reassures the Gorgon.

Piotr says nothing, instead he just snickers at her and shakes his head. "I apologize, dear Del. I had assumed you were a mutant. You are, in fact, a gorgon. How does a gorgon come to New York?"

Del grins, "I'm actually an Amazon, so I came here to scout out this world and figure out a few things. Also, technically keeping an eye on the Princess, but she can take care of herself easy enough, so…" She tilts her head at Piotr, "But yes, I'm an actual gorgon, but don't worry, I can't petrify you. At least, not without a magic helmet." Is she kidding, or not? It's really hard to tell…

"I told you she was a gorgon. It was the first thing I said when I introduced you," Illyana informs her brother in the tones of little sisters everywhere. To Delphyne, cupping her mouth so Piotr can't hear what she says as well, but saying it loudly enough that he can't help but hear every word, "He is big, but sometimes rather dumb." And yet clearly she doesn't mean it. Venom comes easily to Illyana — and she has none in her tone.

"Yes, I know what you said, Yana, but you do not always speak plainly. And given that we are mutants, and often flock with mutants, one could make the assumption that your words were figurative," Piotr replies, taking teh tone of an older brother…brother-splaining. "An Amazon…" he says, with wonder.

Delphyne chuckles, "Yes, my ancestors were the original gorgons, we were granted shelter on the Island, and I'm descended from that line." She grins cheerfully at Piotr, "Probably not what you were expecting, huh?"

"I am very plain-spoken," Illyana replies, feigning offense. "I do not regularly talk like this," she continues, affecting a high-pitched helium voice. "Or this." A nasal voice that seems to come from her sinuses. "I have a very normal voice. I just can't sing." Illyana prattles, but subsides as the pizza comes into view. "Now this is pizza!"

Piotr gives the young blonde the side-eye at her response. Back to Del, now, "Unexpected, but appreciated my new friend. Clearly if you can put up with my sister you must be special indeed."

Del grins, "Well, she introduced me to pizza, so I have a soft spot for her." She tilts her head, looking over at Piotr, "So where have you been? I would have thought I'd have seen you with her before now."

"Everybody loves me," says Illyana. "I am very lovable." She's already claiming a slice of pizza, thick crust and piled high with toppings. "I can already feel the heart attack coming on," she says dreamily before taking a bite and yelping at the burn from the melted cheese. This does not stop her from eating.

Piotr picks at the pizza, not yet eating. "Sabbatical. I did some traveling." And also some punching in the third world with people who are not so nice to mutants. Light punching. Intimidation. Roughing up in some cases.

Delphyne nods, "I admit, I'd like to do some traveling around this world. New York is interesting, but there must be more to see than just this." She hmms, letting the pizza cool a bit before starting to devour her slice.

"He's an art teacher," Illyana puts in. "He's very good at it." And also at brawling and kicking the butts of mutant haters, but really, she's sure Piotr wouldn't want her talking about that, even if Del would almost certainly understand. She fans her mouth and sips from the glass of Coke that's been brought to her. "Very hot. But severe burns in the mouth are part of the price you pay for pizza."

"Traveling has been fun, but it is good to be back home. Despite the company," Piotr says as he nudges Illyana with his elbow. He finally begins to eat, but does so cautiously.

Delphyne grins, "Well, I hope the company here isn't that horrible." She winks at Piotr, eating slowly at her slice as she says, "What sort of art? Sculpture? Paintings?"

"He does not understand the importance of biting the pizza as soon as possible," says Illyana with a sigh. "Some days I am not sure we are related." She is, of course, the impetuous one, except when she's devious and scheming. Then she can have plans that linger for years.

She'll let you know when one of them comes to fruition.

"Well, present company excluded," Piotr says with a chuckle as he relents and begins to eat in earnest. "All sorts of art. The curriculum is comprehensive. I tend to prefer painting, myself."

Del nods, "I never had much of a knack for that, though I tried… I'm pretty good at figuring things out, though. Which is why I started working as an investigator here. There's always a need for that."

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