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Illyana and Angelo snipe at one another, on the porch, Tuesday July 13.



After his sparring session was over with Nathan, Angelo headed up to the back porch for some "fresh air" (and his habitual cigarette). He sat comfortably in one of the chairs out there, looking idly up at the sky.

Obliviously, Illyana pounded up the stairs, finishing her run with a satisfying burst of energy. She was surprised to see anyone out -- although, considering the amount of traffic the porch got, she shouldn't have been -- and she raised a wary hand in greeting before catching her breath, leaning against the railing to stretch.

Angelo glanced over on hearing her footsteps, and straightened, nodding a silent greeting in return.

Gradually, her breathing slowed, and she enjoyed the watery twilight, carefully stretching her legs; the silence didn't bother her. It had been a while since That Incident on the journals, but she didn't really feel like hashing things out when she didn't have to.

Angelo let the silence continue for a while, not really finding it overly uncomfortable, then, feeling he should make some kind of gesture towards conversation, asked, "How's things?"

She glanced at him; raised an eyebrow at the cigarette, and said deliberately, "Well, not bad, but then I'm not the one inhaling tar and rat poison, am I?"

Angelo didn't blink, raising a challenging eyebrow at her. "No, you're not. An' if you are, plenty of room on this porch for both of us, where you don't have to."

She smiled. "I'm comfortable," she said, indicating the space between them as though it was a demilitarized zone.

Not so far from the truth, actually. "Well, then. You can let me breathe my poison in peace."

Hadn't she been doing just that? These people. Honestly. "I had no intention of doing anything else," she said coolly. She hadn't been the one to break the silence -- this time, anyway. She couldn't resist adding, "Breathing your poison while others stand by -- that does seem to be a habit, doesn't it?"

Angelo did blink this time, confused. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

"Nothing, really. I just observe that you prefer for others to, shall we say, keep their comments to themselves while you are exploring a certain kind of action." She smiled again, all hard edges, and she thought that the contrast between this meeting and their last could not have been sharper.

Angelo returned the smile, equally sharply. "People can say what they want. I just think that once they've said their piece, there's not much point sayin' it over an' over again."

She looked at him wide-eyed, a satire of innocence. "By the company you keep, I should think your philosophy would be exactly the opposite," she said mildly, the implication only clearer for the tone.

Angelo looked at her hard, not taken in. "You leave the company I keep out of it. Like you know anythin' about any of us."

"I wouldn't say that," she said, her surprise as patently false as her innocence had been moments before. "I think I can recognise snivelling no matter what form it comes in -- purple, for example, is not a particularly masking colour."

Angelo shot her a look. "Okay, first - Clarice is younger than you, weird as that is to say an' though it's not by much. Second, don't blame the girl for havin' a sheltered life. Just the luck of the draw an' you know it."

"I'm not blaming her for having a sheltered life," Illyana said. "I'm blaming her for the mass stupidity that many of you seem prone to. Other students who have had sheltered lives manage to retain some semblance of common sense, so I must conclude that her attitude is formed via stubbornness rather than nurture." She was cool, collected, and very still; her voice was steady throughout.

Angelo, noting her composure, made an effort to maintain his. "She's tryin'. She knows perfectly well she's not as mature as she could be, an' she's tryin' to do somethin' about it. Cut the girl some slack, for God's sake, give her some advice if you feel the need to say anythin', an' maybe it'd even help more than you condemnin' her all the time."

She was amused. "Now I'm her babysitter? Don't you fill that capacity well enough? I don't have any responsibility to Clarice, and if she's trying to change, she could start by making it more obvious."

"I said *if* you feel the need to say anythin'. You don't want to, you can just leave her alone."

"I will remind you that she initiated specific contact with me, not the other way around. Furthermore," Illyana said, schooling her voice and her face to matter-of-fact boredom, even though she could feel anger stuttering in the pit of her stomach, "as I said, I am not responsible for how Clarice feels about what I say. I'm not going to either discuss the merits of kittens and butterflies or ignore her."

"Why not?" Angelo asked bluntly. "Not the kittens an' butterflies - why not ignore her?"

She slid from bored to amused again. "Why should I ignore her when she comes into my space to proselytise about the virtues of her code of -- thought?" The distaste was evident in her voice. "It's not as though I'm going on to her journal, for example, and harrassing her, but I am not going to shut up on my own."

"You can say what you want on your journal. But if she comments, nothin' says you have to answer", Angelo replied, an edge creeping into his voice. "That's what I meant by ignorin'. She's got as much right to speak her piece as you do, whether it's on her own journal or in response to you."

Illyana shrugged. " "I don't really care if it makes her unhappy to hear a point of view she doesn't appreciate; that is not my concern. I ignore her everywhere else, but I won't when she comes to me specifically." She paused, raised an eyebrow at him. "After all, it's only human nature to respond to irritants -- stupid people, their baseless suspicions, that kind of thing."

Angelo responded to the challenge, tilting his head at her. "Baseless? Well, I don't know about that - I don't recall you ever explainin' how you got Artie out of that warehouse. Didn't matter too much at the time, but I gotta admit, I'm curious..."

She stretched her arms briskly. "Hooray for you," she said dryly, smoothly; the lie came almost like truth, now, she'd practised so much. "You know, it occurs to me that if you wanted to solve mysteries, you could read novels."

"An' does it also occur to you that you're not doin' much to make people not suspicious?" Angelo asked pointedly. "What've you got to hide, Illyana?"

"Nothing, but personally I think it's good for some of you to not know the intimate details of everyone's life," she said lightly. "I don't like lacking for privacy."

Angelo nodded. "Hey, I've got my secrets as well, y'know. But it just makes people more curious when you get all evasive, 'specially when nobody can see a reason why you'd keep that secret."

"All the better," she replied briskly, swiping at a long strand of hair in her face. "There are things that remain none of anyone's business, no matter how curious they are. I prefer actions over words, myself."

Angelo looked at her wryly. "I'd never have guessed", he drawled, making it a jibe, although whether in simple truth or the opposite, he left to her to decide.

She caught the jibe and smiled blandly, reserving judgement on it for the time being. No rush, after all; she was safe for now. "I suppose you wouldn't have," she said, tone mild and devoid of overt insult.

So that was how they were playing the game. "Well, you don't exactly make it obvious. You've done some pretty wordy posts."

She smiled. "I suppose I have." And they served the purpose they were meant for. Action, reaction. She raised a hand in abrupt farewell and ducked into the house -- pleased at the outcome, if not the conversation itself.