LOG: [Illyana, Marius] A log of Epic Denial

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Marius and Illyana talk a lot and yet, somehow, say absolutely nothing.



The problem with tutors was that you couldn't just slide down into a seat at the back of the class and hope they missed you on roll call; they expected one to actually learn algebra. Never mind that she worked for people who could just forge her a high school diploma.

It was this unfortunate situation that saw Illyana in the kitchen of Xavier's, drinking a glass of water and frowning mildly at a page of looseleaf.

"Ah, good. A kindred flame burns deep in my misery-encrusted heart. I see I'm not the only one still caught in atonement for massive absences."

The screen door thumped closed behind the boy as he wandered into the kitchen, dripping gently. Some students were still deep in preparation for their impromptu fieldtrip, but Marius was not among them. Instead he'd fallen back on his old mainstay: exercise. There were more elegant ways to cool yourself off after a run than holding a garden hose over one's head, but given the sweat he'd worked up he had rejected them all on the grounds they did not provide sufficiently immediate gratification. He grinned at Illyana as he made for the refrigerator.

"Yeah, they're a bit less forgiving about the whole truancy thing than I'd hoped. Something about making something of ourselves, potential, think of your future, blah, blah." Illyana leaned back against the counter, raising her eyebrows. "And it clearly doesn't impart really essential knowledge, such as the proper order in which one should shower."

There were some shuffling sounds from the contents of the fridge as Marius shuffled through them in his search. "I find the notion of removing ones clothing before cleansing both outdated an' oppressive. It's a stand against conformity. It's a stand for the right to live my life as I choose, an' makin' the decisions I am wont to make. And also, it is bloody hot out."

Marius emerged from the refrigerator with a bottle of Gatorade. "Ah, well. Suppose I can't complain, as I'm bein' allowed to walk on time. Tell no one it's a year late, though. Shouldn't want to lose the respect of my peers." He twisted the bright orange lid from the bottle and paused thoughtfully. "In basic principle."

"Yeah," Illyana said dryly, "I think I might be lucky to graduate in the next decade. Of course, as I missed approximately a decade of school due to my unfortunate kidnapping episode, it's not really my fault." She paused, considering him; tilted her head, then continued: "So, speaking of horrific kidnapping trauma, how's yours going?"

That question was just unexpected enough to make Marius momentarily forget the Gatorade. The disruption would have been more peaceful had he not been in the middle of drinking it.

"I feel you timed that quite intentionally," Marius coughed, wiping the back of his mouth with his bare arm.

"That's rather suspicious on your part," she said, nonetheless projecting an aura of not exactly denying it - she managed not to smile too much, though, and took a sip of water, apparently waiting until he was done coughing before going on. "So?"

The boy snorted as he leaned back against the counter. "Are you female? Do you appear innocent? All culpability is assumed as given since I became common-law with Jen." Part of his Gatorade had notproceeded to the natural pipe. To see it appropriately punished Marius sent after it a force of more Gatorade. "The trauma continues as expected," he continued conversationally, pressing the cold bottle to his forehead. "I have the odd bouts of inexplicable paranoia an' demonstrate great reluctance to leave school grounds but for the company of groups. Then there's the occasional gut-clenching nightmare of chewin' upon the living flesh of my captors. The last does not seem to be so much a conventional problem among abductees, but given my particular circumstances I've been told not to worry overmuch."

"Well, so long as it was just your captors' flesh, I'm sure that'll pass," Illyana replied mildly, apparently unbothered by the grotesque turn of the conversation. "I mean, aside from the gross factor. I'm assuming you didn't actually eat someone whole, though, so at least you sidestepped that."

"Fortunately for me it seems the actual eating is unnecessary," the Australian agreed as he sloshed the sport-drink around in its bottle. "A good chew will do us just the same. Blood, it seems, is a sufficient substitute for marrow. I feel I should give evolution some kind of commemorative plaque. Even repaired my mutation continues to command a spot in the top five of Bloody Disturbing. The abduction, alas, I feel places in a lower rank. A mad scientist is somewhat below evil family members an' known terrorists."

For a brief instant Marius had considered this might constitute as too much sharing. Then he'd realized he was talking to the girl who had quite openly acknowledged the fact she'd spent a good deal of her early years in some variant of hell. The side-details of genetic tampering or not, he couldn't think anything he could relate to her would be enormously shocking. This knowledge was rather freeing.

The blonde girl was completely undisturbed; to her, this was certainly a more normal conversation than listening to Monet's various treatises re: shoes and other weapons of fashion. "Well," Illyana said thoughtfully, "I don't know; a mad scientist is kind of unique compared to those other two. So it probably counts for more than if you were just related to Magneto or a bunch of terrorists or something. I feel it's the specifics of an abduction that really set it apart."

Marius waved the bottle dismissively. "Ah, but you see, I'm well accustomed to the company of mad scientists. I did, after all, share a flat with Forge. Though perhaps my bar is a bit high. My entry did happen to coincide with his return from bein', strangely enough, drafted as involuntary in-house mad scientist for Magneto. In terms of volume I believe Kyle's up to . . . eh, what is it now, five abductions now? Much as it injures me to admit, in this one area I can boast neither quality nor quantity." He scratched his head, damp curlsruffling . "I fear your era was before my day, I'm a bit uncertain on the details. Was it a demon or a demon lord? Both areundoubtedly notable in their own degrees. It is, as you say, down to the specifics."

"He was more of a self-styled demon lord," Illyana explained, shrugging, "which just means that he had to bargain away a mortal soul to get the title. Not his own, as it happened. 'Course, the real sticking point was more that he also offered up the ultimate destruction of this dimension, but - " She shrugged again. "The whole psychopath mentality and the utterly insane things it entails should hardly be a surprise to anyone who's spent more than ten minutes living here. Note the necessity of flesh-chewing in battle."

The tall boy snapped his fingers. "Potential destruction of a dimension. That for certain meets the standards of that added 'certain something' element to a kidnapping. Creative, unusual, sufficiently horrifying in its implications. Also, mortal souls. An artful touch." The oddness of the conversation was rivaled only by how much more pleasant it was to talk of something than about. After the recent tapering down of therapy session from thrice-weekly to twice-weekly Marius felt he'd earned the right to be topical.

"Possibly more artful if it isn't your own mortal soul in the equation." Illyana's voice was dry but unoffended, and she pushed her hair behind her ears. "But yes, I think the demon lord (no matter how he came to be one) and his unfortunate plans retain a place near the top of the list just out of principle, no matter what else may have happened since then. Also because the menace is, shall we say, more of a paused threat than a past one."

"Ah, right. The thoughtful primer on potential demon invasions. So not only did you incur personal trauma, you live with a daily sense of impendin' doom." Marius tapped his chin with the lid of his drink in a contemplative manner. "We could do you up a crown, I suppose, but I feel that would only serve as incentive for others. On the other hand, if all security an' identity are to be undermined the least one should be allowed is to attractively accessorize."

Illyana gave him a look she usually reserved for crazy people and the baristas at Starbucks. "I do not live with a daily sense of impending doom," she informed him haughtily. "I am simply more aware of this so-called 'doom' - " she put it in air quotes with one hand, crumpling the edge of her algebra homework - "than the average person. Also, no crowns, particularly as mocking fate in this place is a fool's game, and some people'd take Styrofoam as their incentive."

"I take personal offence at the assertion fools should be discouraged from lookin' their very best. I happen to take great pride in my appearance." All of this was said while standing in the middle of the kitchen in a damp tanktop and nylon athletic shorts, for which Lorna would surely have executed him had she not been in Taiwan. Or Thailand. Marius paid little attention to the whereabouts of teachers beyond 'somewhere far enough away to ensure no possibility of retribution.' He took another swig of Gatorade. "Eh, no worries, I suppose. You live with constant -- right -- awareness of impending doom, an' I with remnant yet nagging knowledge of a biology lying in wait to screw me over one but good. An' yet, here is the curious thing: we both continue to do schoolwork. Truly it is the miracle of the human spirit."

"Yeah, and also, keeps us from experiencing first-hand the disapproval and disappointment of those in charge. I mean, Professor Xavier is a very, very old man and it can't be good for his, er." Illyana waved the paper expressively, before realizing that abusing her homework was not likely to endear her to her long suffering tutor and putting it gently down on the counter. "Health, or something."

"We should be considerate of the professor's great age an' uncertain health. If not for his intervention my brain would possess far more holes than currently. After all, if members of my family an' the large part of my classmates may be believed I didn't have much in the way of whole material at the start." The boy grinned amiably and rapped his knuckles against his skull to accentuate the point. "And truly. Runnin' a place like this? Nerves of steel. I feel we should toast him. In fact, I shall." Marius lifted his bottle of Gatorade in a gesture that managed toconvey only slight irony. "To Professor Xavier's impressive lack of self-preservation instincts. May he continue to pass it to those around him so there are forever parties available to rescue the less wise in our trials. Or knock us in the head with bricks, which is occasionally a complimentary act."

Illyana’s mouth quirked in a wry half-smile, and she raised her own glass, with somewhat more than slight irony. “Well said. Or, well. Enthusiastically, and conveying the right general message.”