Jamie and Illyana, Tuesday afternoon
Jul. 20th, 2004 10:35 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsSet between these two logs; Jamie finds Illyana brooding by the lake, and says a few things that knock her for a bit of a loop. Then they trade favorite catharsis methods, until Illyana decides to go and actually find some.
It was a beautiful day: The sun was hot on her face, the lake was calm and still, and the breeze was cool. Under normal circumstances, she'd have been out enjoying it -- taking a run around the grounds, reading somewhere quiet -- but today all she'd been able to do was stalk through it, ignoring the heat in the face of her anger, and ending up at the edge of the lake, where she'd been sitting for the last half hour riding out the last of her shock. Bloody, bloody Piotr, she thought, tossing a rock into the water with as much force as she could muster. It wasn't that the end result wasn't the same, but he'd thrown her badly, unexpectedly, and it showed in her body -- tense and wary -- as well as her face.
Jamie spotted Illyana by the lake, and found the dupes he had searching the mansion and elsewhere on the grounds other things to do. He stuck his hands in his pockets casually, and waited until he was pretty sure she'd noticed him--it didn't take very long--before saying "Hey. Heck of a set of lungs on your brother there . . . feel like talking?"
She looked up, weighed her options, and nodded, indicating that she didn't mind his company, at least. "I think he traded powers with Terry," she said dryly, swallowing her bitterness in favour of levity. "D'you think they heard him in Siberia?"
Jamie chuckled. "Entirely possible. Pretty sure they heard him everywhere else." He took a seat nearby, careful not to look like he was invading her personal space. "Bets on how long it takes before he cools down and regrets it?"
"Doubt he will," she said, surprised when she sounded tired; she shook it off, changed her tone a bit. "He's stubborn that way, and -- well, I rather hope he sticks to it than go back to thinking I'm going to skip through the bloody fields with fuzzy bunnies again."
"Those his only choices? It's . . . not the easiest thing in the world to get used to, I'll grant you, but it's not impossible to like you the way you are now."
She shot him a half-amused look and shook her head. "Well, I didn't think so, although I'd imagine he didn't agree." She paused, irritated, looking out over the water. "Doesn't help that I'm fairly certain someone's put it into his head that I'm not to be trusted -- at best."
"British accent, jewelry in strange places, would pull rabbits out of hats if that weren't a cliche?" Jamie rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Because she was Little Miss Forthcoming when she got here, of course." He leaned back on his elbows, looking thoughtful. "The thing about some of the people around here, the ones who grew up hard--not necessarily including you, mind, but some of 'em--they act like the ones with families, 'normal' lives, we can't handle hearing about that stuff, or we don't deserve to have an opinion about it. Even Miles, sometimes, edits stuff for my consumption. Be willing to bet if Amanda knew I was here, if she thought about it at all, she'd think I was a chump for wanting to be your friend, like I couldn't possibly begin to guess what growing up where you did might've done to you."
"Got it in one. She's apparently on to me," Illyana said, digging the toes of her sandals into the ground. She looked angry for a second -- even vulnerable -- before continuing. "It's not about how you grew up, as far as I can tell," she said quietly. "Because trust me, I would never wish what happened to me on anyone, or anything like it. It's not like I can't get along with people who haven't done the things I've regrettably done, and it's not like they're stupid because of it." She paused, then snorted. "Sometimes they're just stupid. If people edit for you -- I can't speak for everyone, but for me it's mostly because there are things you shouldn't make people try to relate to. Also, I've mentioned I'm not much for sharing," she added with a slight grin, partially self-deprecating.
Jamie grinned. "Except maybe when you're a little cheesed off? Be willing to bet the Professor didn't ask you to tell everybody about your powers." He shook his head. "I don't mind that much, the editing. When Miles does it, it helps him feel like he's in control of what happened, that he can decide who to tell about it and who not to. And if he ever wants to tell me, I'll listen." He paused. "That's the thing about growing up surrounded by people who love you, that I don't think people like Amanda really get. People don't have to earn my trust like they're passing a test, they don't have to deserve it . . . they don't even have to trust me back." He caught Illyana's eye. "I can decide to trust somebody just because I choose to trust them, because I want to be their friend. And it's hard, sometimes, to leave yourself open like that. Takes a different kind of strength, that maybe you don't get from only being able to depend on yourself. But I can do it, if I want to." He smiled faintly. "And I trust you. Maybe I can't understand what it was like, growing up in Limbo. I know it can't have been easy, and I can tell it's marked you in ways you don't want to get into, and who knows, maybe Amanda's got a point and some of those ways are dangerous. But I trust you anyway. And if you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen."
Illyana was speechless, for once; she stared at him incredulously for a few moments, looking just as bemused as she felt. She nodded slowly, trying to formulate a sentence, but this was out of her realm of experience. She wasn't sure what to think, so she stopped trying, filing it away for 'later', and said, "Thanks." She smiled and looked away, out at the horizon, just to have something to focus on. She felt obliged to say something -- in a strange way, to deserve Jamie's trust. "I won't say being there didn't change me from my former glitter-happy self," she said finally, settling on something that was true without being too informative. "That's obvious, no matter how hard it is to deal with. But I'm not lying when I say I wouldn't hurt anyone here." No matter how much I may want to wring Piotr's neck.
"Which would be why I'm here instead of begging for--what did she say, protective charms?" Jamie snorted, and skipped a rock across the lake surface. "You're a different person. Couldn't not be, ten years later, no matter where those ten years happened. But all that means is people have to take you as you are now." He grinned. "Which isn't that tough, no matter what anybody else says."
"Not too hard, I shouldn't think. " Illyana smiled and glanced at him conspiratorially. "I'm told I have a bit of a temper, though," she said confidentially.
"Well, crap, there goes that idea," Jamie replied lightly. "Don't think I can be friends with somebody with a bit of a temper, I mean, it's not like I ever do something silly like go ballistic at someone on the journals for an hour and a half. I am Zenlike in my calm."
That provoked a laugh. "Aren't we all. I swear, more drama starts in the bloody journals than it ever would between people out of them."
"I dunno, I'm pretty sure if Doc MacTaggart ever gets the mutant genome nailed down, we're gonna find the X-gene smack dab next to the 'drama bomb' gene."
She smiled; though her tension hadn't gone by any means, it had slid somewhere into the background, something to think about later. "Things do seem to get a bit tangled up 'round here," she said, "not excluding myself whatsoever. It's probably the work of some bored minor deity."
"Nah, it's just a thing. Tough enough being a teenager already before you add the superpowers. Too bad, though--if we had pissed off some god, we could just figure out a way to kick his ass and then we could catch a break." He grinned. "And I hear ass-kicking is therapeutic."
"Count me out if we're going up against a god. Too much immortality for my taste." Something odd crossed her features just then, and was gone as quickly. "Fighting is very therapeutic, though," she agreed, "much moreso than this talking thing everyone's going on about."
"Oh, the talking can be good too. Depends who you're talking to, and what about. But, y'know . . . there really is something to be said for the physical, I'll give you that. I like going out back and hitting line drives, myself."
She blinked. "The line drives?" she asked delicately, hoping it wasn't one of those things you just did't ask about.
"Oh, sorry." Jamie grinned. "Baseball. Take a bucket of balls out to the field and hit 'em as hard as I can, until I'm too tired to do it anymore. Makes things look a lot simpler."
"Baseball -- oh, I remember. Wasn't Jubilee talking about it?" She nodded thoughtfully. "I know the feeling, though. Happens sometimes when I'm running, now that I don't feel like I'm going to suffocate if I go too long."
"Never really got into running, myself. Used to ride my bike a lot, though, which is close."
"It's peaceful," she replied. She paused, then smiled. "At least, it's usually peaceful, unless someone else had the same idea. But that, I believe, is just status quo."
Jamie laughed. "Yeah, pretty much. I even found cigarette butts in my secret treehouse once, which kinda moots the 'secret' part. Don't think anybody runs in the afternoons, though. All the runners around here seem to like the early morning."
"Lovely," she said dryly. "That's one thing I don't understand -- why do they smoke? It's all over science books that cigarettes are made of tar. Disgusting. Anyway, I usually run later at night -- it's too hot in the afternoon, and anyway there's really nobody else around then. Place is full of silly people who sleep too much."
"You know, I have noticed that," Jamie said solemnly. "Wouldn't last three days on a working farm, that bunch, it's a disgrace, and wow do I sound like my grandpa all of a sudden." He grinned. "Although I have this kind of sneaking wish I could turn Grandpa loose on this place. Now there was a guy who didn't put up with crap."
"Sounds like someone a few of them in there could really use," Illyana said, with a significant look toward the mansion. "Less crap, more -- whatever the opposite of crap is." She stretched her legs out and glanced at her watch. "Speaking of peaceful activity," she added, "I may be convincing myself to go and put the hurt on an innocent punching bag. Such are my evil and suspicious ways."
"Your perfidy knows no bounds. Is no gym equipment safe from your merciless wrath?" Jamie smiled. "Have fun. Think I'm gonna stay out here and skip some more rocks . . . while I'm watching TV, playing on the computer, and figuring out what to put in my next videotape to Kitty, and feel free to wonder what that says about what it's like inside my head, lots of people do."
"Crowded and productive, sounds like," Illyana replied, reaching for cheerful and hitting it. "See you later." One moment of indecision later, the ground flashed briefly, and she slid into it, disappearing.
It was a beautiful day: The sun was hot on her face, the lake was calm and still, and the breeze was cool. Under normal circumstances, she'd have been out enjoying it -- taking a run around the grounds, reading somewhere quiet -- but today all she'd been able to do was stalk through it, ignoring the heat in the face of her anger, and ending up at the edge of the lake, where she'd been sitting for the last half hour riding out the last of her shock. Bloody, bloody Piotr, she thought, tossing a rock into the water with as much force as she could muster. It wasn't that the end result wasn't the same, but he'd thrown her badly, unexpectedly, and it showed in her body -- tense and wary -- as well as her face.
Jamie spotted Illyana by the lake, and found the dupes he had searching the mansion and elsewhere on the grounds other things to do. He stuck his hands in his pockets casually, and waited until he was pretty sure she'd noticed him--it didn't take very long--before saying "Hey. Heck of a set of lungs on your brother there . . . feel like talking?"
She looked up, weighed her options, and nodded, indicating that she didn't mind his company, at least. "I think he traded powers with Terry," she said dryly, swallowing her bitterness in favour of levity. "D'you think they heard him in Siberia?"
Jamie chuckled. "Entirely possible. Pretty sure they heard him everywhere else." He took a seat nearby, careful not to look like he was invading her personal space. "Bets on how long it takes before he cools down and regrets it?"
"Doubt he will," she said, surprised when she sounded tired; she shook it off, changed her tone a bit. "He's stubborn that way, and -- well, I rather hope he sticks to it than go back to thinking I'm going to skip through the bloody fields with fuzzy bunnies again."
"Those his only choices? It's . . . not the easiest thing in the world to get used to, I'll grant you, but it's not impossible to like you the way you are now."
She shot him a half-amused look and shook her head. "Well, I didn't think so, although I'd imagine he didn't agree." She paused, irritated, looking out over the water. "Doesn't help that I'm fairly certain someone's put it into his head that I'm not to be trusted -- at best."
"British accent, jewelry in strange places, would pull rabbits out of hats if that weren't a cliche?" Jamie rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Because she was Little Miss Forthcoming when she got here, of course." He leaned back on his elbows, looking thoughtful. "The thing about some of the people around here, the ones who grew up hard--not necessarily including you, mind, but some of 'em--they act like the ones with families, 'normal' lives, we can't handle hearing about that stuff, or we don't deserve to have an opinion about it. Even Miles, sometimes, edits stuff for my consumption. Be willing to bet if Amanda knew I was here, if she thought about it at all, she'd think I was a chump for wanting to be your friend, like I couldn't possibly begin to guess what growing up where you did might've done to you."
"Got it in one. She's apparently on to me," Illyana said, digging the toes of her sandals into the ground. She looked angry for a second -- even vulnerable -- before continuing. "It's not about how you grew up, as far as I can tell," she said quietly. "Because trust me, I would never wish what happened to me on anyone, or anything like it. It's not like I can't get along with people who haven't done the things I've regrettably done, and it's not like they're stupid because of it." She paused, then snorted. "Sometimes they're just stupid. If people edit for you -- I can't speak for everyone, but for me it's mostly because there are things you shouldn't make people try to relate to. Also, I've mentioned I'm not much for sharing," she added with a slight grin, partially self-deprecating.
Jamie grinned. "Except maybe when you're a little cheesed off? Be willing to bet the Professor didn't ask you to tell everybody about your powers." He shook his head. "I don't mind that much, the editing. When Miles does it, it helps him feel like he's in control of what happened, that he can decide who to tell about it and who not to. And if he ever wants to tell me, I'll listen." He paused. "That's the thing about growing up surrounded by people who love you, that I don't think people like Amanda really get. People don't have to earn my trust like they're passing a test, they don't have to deserve it . . . they don't even have to trust me back." He caught Illyana's eye. "I can decide to trust somebody just because I choose to trust them, because I want to be their friend. And it's hard, sometimes, to leave yourself open like that. Takes a different kind of strength, that maybe you don't get from only being able to depend on yourself. But I can do it, if I want to." He smiled faintly. "And I trust you. Maybe I can't understand what it was like, growing up in Limbo. I know it can't have been easy, and I can tell it's marked you in ways you don't want to get into, and who knows, maybe Amanda's got a point and some of those ways are dangerous. But I trust you anyway. And if you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen."
Illyana was speechless, for once; she stared at him incredulously for a few moments, looking just as bemused as she felt. She nodded slowly, trying to formulate a sentence, but this was out of her realm of experience. She wasn't sure what to think, so she stopped trying, filing it away for 'later', and said, "Thanks." She smiled and looked away, out at the horizon, just to have something to focus on. She felt obliged to say something -- in a strange way, to deserve Jamie's trust. "I won't say being there didn't change me from my former glitter-happy self," she said finally, settling on something that was true without being too informative. "That's obvious, no matter how hard it is to deal with. But I'm not lying when I say I wouldn't hurt anyone here." No matter how much I may want to wring Piotr's neck.
"Which would be why I'm here instead of begging for--what did she say, protective charms?" Jamie snorted, and skipped a rock across the lake surface. "You're a different person. Couldn't not be, ten years later, no matter where those ten years happened. But all that means is people have to take you as you are now." He grinned. "Which isn't that tough, no matter what anybody else says."
"Not too hard, I shouldn't think. " Illyana smiled and glanced at him conspiratorially. "I'm told I have a bit of a temper, though," she said confidentially.
"Well, crap, there goes that idea," Jamie replied lightly. "Don't think I can be friends with somebody with a bit of a temper, I mean, it's not like I ever do something silly like go ballistic at someone on the journals for an hour and a half. I am Zenlike in my calm."
That provoked a laugh. "Aren't we all. I swear, more drama starts in the bloody journals than it ever would between people out of them."
"I dunno, I'm pretty sure if Doc MacTaggart ever gets the mutant genome nailed down, we're gonna find the X-gene smack dab next to the 'drama bomb' gene."
She smiled; though her tension hadn't gone by any means, it had slid somewhere into the background, something to think about later. "Things do seem to get a bit tangled up 'round here," she said, "not excluding myself whatsoever. It's probably the work of some bored minor deity."
"Nah, it's just a thing. Tough enough being a teenager already before you add the superpowers. Too bad, though--if we had pissed off some god, we could just figure out a way to kick his ass and then we could catch a break." He grinned. "And I hear ass-kicking is therapeutic."
"Count me out if we're going up against a god. Too much immortality for my taste." Something odd crossed her features just then, and was gone as quickly. "Fighting is very therapeutic, though," she agreed, "much moreso than this talking thing everyone's going on about."
"Oh, the talking can be good too. Depends who you're talking to, and what about. But, y'know . . . there really is something to be said for the physical, I'll give you that. I like going out back and hitting line drives, myself."
She blinked. "The line drives?" she asked delicately, hoping it wasn't one of those things you just did't ask about.
"Oh, sorry." Jamie grinned. "Baseball. Take a bucket of balls out to the field and hit 'em as hard as I can, until I'm too tired to do it anymore. Makes things look a lot simpler."
"Baseball -- oh, I remember. Wasn't Jubilee talking about it?" She nodded thoughtfully. "I know the feeling, though. Happens sometimes when I'm running, now that I don't feel like I'm going to suffocate if I go too long."
"Never really got into running, myself. Used to ride my bike a lot, though, which is close."
"It's peaceful," she replied. She paused, then smiled. "At least, it's usually peaceful, unless someone else had the same idea. But that, I believe, is just status quo."
Jamie laughed. "Yeah, pretty much. I even found cigarette butts in my secret treehouse once, which kinda moots the 'secret' part. Don't think anybody runs in the afternoons, though. All the runners around here seem to like the early morning."
"Lovely," she said dryly. "That's one thing I don't understand -- why do they smoke? It's all over science books that cigarettes are made of tar. Disgusting. Anyway, I usually run later at night -- it's too hot in the afternoon, and anyway there's really nobody else around then. Place is full of silly people who sleep too much."
"You know, I have noticed that," Jamie said solemnly. "Wouldn't last three days on a working farm, that bunch, it's a disgrace, and wow do I sound like my grandpa all of a sudden." He grinned. "Although I have this kind of sneaking wish I could turn Grandpa loose on this place. Now there was a guy who didn't put up with crap."
"Sounds like someone a few of them in there could really use," Illyana said, with a significant look toward the mansion. "Less crap, more -- whatever the opposite of crap is." She stretched her legs out and glanced at her watch. "Speaking of peaceful activity," she added, "I may be convincing myself to go and put the hurt on an innocent punching bag. Such are my evil and suspicious ways."
"Your perfidy knows no bounds. Is no gym equipment safe from your merciless wrath?" Jamie smiled. "Have fun. Think I'm gonna stay out here and skip some more rocks . . . while I'm watching TV, playing on the computer, and figuring out what to put in my next videotape to Kitty, and feel free to wonder what that says about what it's like inside my head, lots of people do."
"Crowded and productive, sounds like," Illyana replied, reaching for cheerful and hitting it. "See you later." One moment of indecision later, the ground flashed briefly, and she slid into it, disappearing.
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no subject
Date: 2004-07-20 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-20 10:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-20 11:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-20 11:15 pm (UTC)"That's not fair! I'm only half!"
no subject
Date: 2004-07-20 11:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 04:15 am (UTC)(Yeah, like that's going to simplify anything.)
no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 04:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 04:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 05:01 am (UTC)And I hope it doesn't happen because I like the dynamic they have now. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 05:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 05:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 05:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 05:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 05:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 05:24 am (UTC)But it does seem a little weird that on the one hand, she's saying "OK, I was raised by evil, but, um, like me anyway?" and on the other she's saying "Hey! She was raised by evil! Don't trust her!" Which is more what Jamie's reacting to.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 05:39 am (UTC)Jamie would still point out, though, that so is Illyana, or at least enough to count. (He would also point out that in the All-Mansion Hurting People Sweepstakes, Illyana isn't really a contender, unlike other people. ;))
no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 05:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 08:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 01:26 pm (UTC)Clarice is joining the dance - she keeps whining about Illyana
Naked gloaty dance?
Date: 2004-07-21 08:29 pm (UTC)Re: Naked gloaty dance?
Date: 2004-07-21 10:24 pm (UTC)Re: Naked gloaty dance?
Date: 2004-07-21 10:44 pm (UTC)Re: Naked gloaty dance?
Date: 2004-07-21 10:59 pm (UTC)