Remy and Illyana, Wednesday night

[x-snowflake.livejournal.com]

Remy and Illyana discuss her recent post and her new position after he calls her in.

Remy's look was halfway between unimpressed and thunderous as Illyana came into his office. The fact that he's only made his reappearance while hobbling around on his cane hadn't improved anyone's mood. Fortunately for her, he'd stuck mostly to work and private matters, not taking time to speak with her. After his comment in her journal, it wasn't hard to tell that he was annoyed.

Illyana appeared at the door, hands in the pockets of her jeans, looking cleaner and considerably more lucid than the last time she'd seen Remy LeBeau. "You wanted to see me?" He didn't look happy. He was definitely going to yell again. She almost sighed.

"I accept de fact dat you young, immensely stupid, and beyond de grasp of sanity." Remy said, almost reasonably until you heard his actually words. "But exactly what are you trying to stir up as Xaviers?"

"Uh. Stir up?" She kept it simple. He never seemed to appreciate sentences. She crossed her arms in front of her, defensively.

"Broadcasting de chance of demon invasion across de whole channel?" Remy said blackly. "You looking to start a panic, a host of nightmares, or is dis your idea of fun?"

She stared at him, open-mouthed. Whatever she'd been expecting, that wasn't it. "Okay, for one thing, they just had a freaking dinosaur attack, so I figured that a reminder about the demons might be a good idea, especially since it's more than likely that they're going to see some in the next little while. And for another, I have been reading the stupid journal entry things I've missed, and they talk about demons all the time, so it's not like they're totally unaware of the threat."

"So you need to shove it directly in dere faces?" Remy rubbed his face tiredly. Thank god for the drugs. "Dere's 'bout a hundred more effective ways dat you could have done dis better, other den stepping on to de main channel as if you were looking specifically for a response."

"I wasn't *looking* for a response." Illyana stuck out her chin, annoyed. "I was just trying to - " She exhaled, frustrated, unsure of what she had been trying to do. She looked at him for a long moment, clearly biting down several probably-inappropriate responses. "I didn't really think about it that way, fine. I'm sorry. Nobody seemed all that panicked, anyway." Though she had a feeling that the RA hadn't been kidding about waking her up, if they were.

"Due to Pete's advancing alcohol fueled psychosis, you've been offered a job here. Dat means you're going to be trusted wit' a lot of information that potentially can make de X-Men wet de bed if dey know." LeBeau sighed, oddly looking extremely old at the moment. A stark reversal of his normal youthful look. "We don't talk 'bout things wit'out considering de results, 'yana. What you could have done is put all dat in an e-mail to Forge, Stormy and de Boyscout, instead of telling de fifteen year olds dat dey need to be watching over dere shoulders in math class for de worst parts of de Bible coming after dem."

Illyana almost said, "Well, they *do*," but some small instinct of self-preservation kept her from actually saying the words, although her opinion was written clearly across her face. Instead, she took a deep, calming breath, so as to control her unfortunate tendency to mouth off (it had not served her well, lately), and said, "Okay. No more demon posts to the general populace. I promise."

"It's more den dat, 'yana. What we do here is gather information. First, last and most importantly, we find out what's going on. Dat means restraint. It means using it to do something dat's meaningful, not to show off what you know dat others don't." It was about time that she learned the job that she had signed up for.

She sighed. "I wasn't *trying* to show off." Much, her traitorous brain interjected. Something compelled her to add, a little more fiercely than she'd expected: "And I'd rather have them know to run. And fine, yes, be scared enough to run. That's what's going to save their lives, so maybe they should be scared, if that's what it takes." Her tone shifted downward. "But I get it. I'll stop - doing that. I just didn't think of it that way." Or at all.

"What you've done is teach them that dey should run. De point dat you should have been making is how dey should run." He pointed out carefully. "Dis job is 'bout thinking before you act, no matter you might believe."

"Okay. Think before I speak." Not exactly her best attribute, come to think of it - standing here with Remy brought up those recent memories of her time in Russia, and she looked down, more in thought than fear. "I'll - do that."

Remy pointed at the chair in front of his desk. "Sit."

He leaned over and poured himself a cup of coffee, not offering her one. His leg hurt, he was groucy, and didn't need to be nice. "Tell me de best method de mansion can use to respond to a sudden demon invasion."

Illyana sat. Unwillingly, but he didn't seem to be kidding. Didn't he know she had a concussion, and needed her sleep? She glared at him mildly for a moment. "Follow the evacuation protocol. Get everyone out - those bunker things would be worse than useless, more like death traps, if demons are involved. Use the X-Men, have them figure out what the demons are doing and what they want, probably they should call Amanda Sefton, and use Mr. Marko as much as possible, since he's the best thing they've got."

"So how whould you manage dere resources available to accomplish dese goals? You know de staff and dere capabilities; de layout of de mansion, but most importantly, you know how dere opponents, de demons, are going to act and react." He took a sip from the cup before returning his red on black gaze to her. "How would you handle it if you in charge?"

"I guess – I'd have all the people with stupid powers, like Ms. Maximoff's annoying brother, get the kids to safety. Particularly if Clarice is around, that should clear them out fast. Have a couple stay behind, out of the fight, to research whatever it is. Take the heavy-hitters – Mr. Marko, Dr. Grey, Ms. Munroe, Mr. Dayspring, Ms. Dane – and have them doing the serious damage, if they can." She paused. "There's always more of them than there are of you, so the best thing would be to draw them out and drop Shiro on them. But I guess there's that whole nuclear thing to worry about." She shrugged. "That's how I would do it, but there's a reason for the conspicuous lack of leather in my wardrobe. I tend to do this alone."

"Alone is no longer good enough." Remy said mildly, considering what she'd just said. "I want you to sit wit' Marie-Ange and a copy of de mansion plans. By next week, I want at least three alternate exvacution plans in relation to a scale of potential assaults from minor, medium and serious wit' possible secondary plans and goals. You can also put together a full demon profile, including types, known powers and combat tactics for de BoyScout, if he wants to load some simulations in dat Danger Room."

Remy shot off his list in rapidfire format. "Next, you, 'manda and Wanda are going to sit down and figure out a way to formalize a new information network devoted to magic. I want contacts, experts and a global span. In doing dis, you will also work wit' dem creating some potential profiles and targets for dis new demon dat kicked you out. I want to know how to identify whether or not he's got his claws into a situation, and why dat might be."

He might as well have been speaking Japanese; she looked at him dubiously, thrown off by the rapid list of tasks. Finally, she came out with, "Okay. Sure." At least it sort of sounded like real work.

"Good. Dis is what we do, 'yana. We identify a threat and we figure out how to deal wit' it." Remy put his cup down and moved back to his paperwork. "Next time you want to make sure people are scared, remember dat it's now your job to deal wit' what is supposed to scare dem."