Don't be Rambo, be Captain Kirk

October 24th, 2014: Illyana and Remy have cocoa and a late night chat.

Xavier's Mansion Halls and Kitchen, late night



  • Remy's cats (Lucifer, Oliver and Figaro)

Mood Music:

Remy LeBeau, master thief, X-Men, womanizer, Trekkie. Yes, Remy is a Trekkie and wandering the mansion halls with his Red Shirt pajamas on with a cat on each shoulder and one in his hand.
For once he doesn't look half drunk or hungover, just sleep deprived as feet scuffle across the floor in a shuffle towards the mansion kitchens. He's not usually over this side of the X-Grounds but his cupboards are empty. For whatever reason Betsy has been using his home as a crash pad and eating everything in his fridge and cabinets, not that he tends to keep much in them.
"What dis, thought I heard some voices…" He says as he shambles around the corner to stare blankly at the hallway beyond. One more be-damned hall and he'll find himself in food heaven.

After Illyana and Kitty's tense moment in the staff areas, Kitty and Logan headed back to her room. Illyana chatted briefly with Jericho before sending him back to New York. While she appreciated his support some things she doesn't need an audience for. Like walking the now-quiet halls of Xavier's. It's not home anymore, but it's where she grew up on Earth. Her memories of Russia are so old they're more impression than anything else. The sunlight. The sigh of the crops bowing in the wind. Those formative years in Limbo aren't something she has any real nostalgia for but Xavier's? Yeah.
The blonde is in old, worn Xavier's hoodie and jeans, the tread of her heavy boots a low thump as she walks towards the kitchen, planning to make some cocoa. For old time's sake.
A low hiss turns in to one of those obnoxious cat snarls. This only encourages the white cat to follow it's grey companion. The orange one, seems rather unphased. "Whoah, arrete toi, Oliver." Remy says a little surprised at the reactions out of his animals to the presence of Illyana. Who, he is also surprised at the appearance of but not so much so he's going to hiss, snarl and claw at her like his pets.

"You got a way wit first impressions, petit diable." The Cajun greets in his own sleepy manner.
Illyana has a saucepan on the stove, vanilla, sugar, cocoa powder and cinnamon all lined up as she does that back-and-forth stir to ensure the milk doesn't scald. Illyana doesn't really cook, but she makes real cocoa.
The blond lifts her gaze at the sound of the hissing, and a brow arches as the cat undoubtably picks up on that demonic nature of hers. She refrains from hissing back. Her gaze lifts higher, taking in Remy's attire with a sweep of her eyes and a slight smirk. "Cats and Trek. Your Nerd is showing, Remy."

"Ah bebelle, dis only a small piece o' my nerd. It gets much bigger." The Cajun teases before slowly unhooking Oliver's claws from his shoulder. "No shocker Lucifer seems to like you." A motion towards the orange cat as it waltzes across the countertop towards the young woman like he owns the place. The other two, well, they're latched to the thief like he's holding them back from a fight. "Stupid… " A small struggle follows and the grey cat leaps down and runs out of the room a half-second later the white one on it's tail.
"Dat right, skat… "
A wince and he rubs at some of the clawmarks he's just earned, clawmarks that don't quite match up to the other mass of 'em he is sporting. "Oh, you makin' real cocoa? Enough for Remy, yes?"

Illyana's lips twitch upwards a bit and she leans over to open the 'fridge so she can add more milk to what's heating. "You know, only egomaniacs talk about themselves in the third person." She chides, her gaze watching the cats flee. Something she's used to. Lucifer gets her attention then, one brow arching upwards at the orange cat. She fishes out a saucer and tips a small amount of milk into it before puttint the jug away. The tiny 'plate' is slid towards the cat.

"Looks like you got into a fight. Or a fight got ahold of you. If it was just an adventurous night in bed, I don't need the details." She adds dryly.

Graciously the orange Tabby accepts the milk and begins to lap at it. Remy gives it a passing glance before settling in to a lean against the countertop, arms folding over his chest. "Egomaniac? Non. Jus' a force of habit Remy supposes. You don't find it endearing, huh? " A rakish grin appears as those gleaming red eyes settle on Yana, "What you doin' around dis late? No demons loose in the mansion again I hope well, aside from dem pesterin' bamfos. Halloween everyone be actin' freaky. Speaking of I need you to cunja up some magic protections at de boathouse. Dat lake mighty spooky some nights."

"You'e touched the Darkhold. I wouldn't be surprised if Spooky Things aren't drwn to you." Illyana says entirely too casually, her attention seemingly back on the slow stir of the milk.
The mention of protections gets a quiet pause. "Persistent protection isn't something easily conjured up. Well, not for me at any rate." Magic works differently for different practitioners. "It basically needs a battery to power it after they're built." The wards at the apartment she shares with Jericho are powered by her, but this is too far, and her magic on Earth too finite. "And my City Power is in another dimension."There's a reason she never just Warded the Xavier school. "And no. No demons. I needed to talk to the Professor."

"I touch uglier tings than the Darkhold throughout my life and none o dem show up… wait no, I forgot 'bout Lilah 'n Becky. Oh Monette too… " The man looks like he gets lose in reverie a moment before snapping free of it at the sound of spoon hitting the wall of the milk basin.
"So I need a battery, huh? Kinda battery we talkin' bout." A hand slides out to ruffle Lucifer's neckmane. "City Power? Chu talkin' bout, cher?"
Gambit manages in his best Cajun/Coleman catchphrase.

Illyana shakes her head. "Sorry. Guess I'm skipping around and having half of the conversation in my head." Signs she's distracted. As the milk starts to steam she starts adding cocoa and sugar and whatnot.
"Casting spells is like making anything else. You put together the pieces and then apply power to make it do its thing. Learning to spellcast is like learning to build anything else. The trick is getting the power to make it do anything. A TV's awesome.. as long as you have an outlet to plug it into. City power. Plug in as much as you like and as long as you can pay the bills, you can pull as much as you want. My magic on Earth is a bit more like… solar panels that charge a battery. Only so much I've got access to. Most people? They're like a 9-volt. Not much to work with and it doesn't really come back."

"Ah, see, makes sense now." A cupboard is opened and he fishes out some Graham crackers, breaking off a square to offer one over to Illyana. "You alright, petit?" He questions with a surprising amount of empathy suddenly. Remy isn't exactly dim about people. He just pretends or chooses to be most the time because it is just that much easier.

"After that HYDRA attack this place been rather quiet, like everyone gone an' scattered. Kinda lonesome at times, I 'spose Remy not been much better." His infrequent jaunts in to Gotham and a recent hunting trip to Louisiana in regards to more Darkhold lore and info.

Illyana takes the cracker with a faint smile, giving him a nod of thanks and nibbles on it. "I'm not saying it can't be done. It just needs a power source for it to be a long-term thing. Grab some mugs?" She says, turning off the heat and picking up the pan so she can pour them out their cocoa.

"I haven't been around here in a long time." She points out. "School, ruling a demonic realm, being a public mutant." Which doesn't answer the question, but she's good at sidestepping them like that.

"Suppose you got your hands busy." Remy agrees whilst fetching a couple mugs, one for each of them. The cat has finished it's milk and is on the floor somewhere.

"Sounds a hassle though. You evading de question? Maybe man troubles?" He goes silent studying her, "Or woman troubles? Remy's an expert in these sort of things. You got your own Love Guru if you wanna chat."

Illyana gives a soft snort at the insinuation it's 'man troubles', giving him a Look. "Where were you months ago, Guru?" She asks sarcastically. Not that she'd have come to him anyway. "But no, not love troubles. Though, I suppose it does involve a man." Her tone is wry. "And yes. I was evading the question." Her smirk chides him for being so impolite!

"I need to walk into a trap against an old enemy. I'm not the optimistic sort." Illyana admits.

Yet another of those grins from the rogue as she snorts, "Traps are also a specialty. In and out, Remy has been in many of these and will be in many many more. So, you not optimistic about it yet you gonna walk in to it anyway? Got to go in there with at least some kind of positivity or else you already defeated. Kinda trouble dis old enemy? Scale of kitten… to mob wid pitchforks and machine guns?"

"Would-be God." Illyana says, upping the scales just a twee more. She rinses out the saucepan and slides into a seat with her mug and wraps both hands around it. Those thick-soled boots that climb up to her knees with their silver skull buckles look entirely too agressive for the sedate kitchen surroundings and hot cocoa. "Belasco's a servant of the Elder Gods. The guys that made the Darkhold. He's the one that kidnapped me when I was a kid and used to rule Limbo. He got ahold of Jericho and stole a piece of him, so now it's a countdown to get that piece back. Given he didn't just outright kill him? I figure it's to make sure I come to him."

"Oo eh, would-be God? Figure we got 'nuff o' dem in dis world, non?"

"Don't know much bout dis Jericho but I know loses pieces of anyting usually not good. You got some back up in dis or you gonna go all… Rambo by your lonesome?" The man questions still standing there with mug in hand, drinking at it. Somewhere in the background one of Storm's plants crashes to the ground. Cats for you. No mind paid to it the Cajun carries on, "Some serious bad mojo dis, Remy is of course around to help if you need be. We a team and all that poo-yee."

"Well he's not in 'this' world." Illyana notes with a slight smile. She gets a slightly narrow-eyed look at the Rambo accusation. "Well. Some folks insisted." Oddly, her demons by forcing her hand with Jericho. And Kitty, which means by extension Logan. Illyana doesn't know Remy enough to have the fear of him being used against her like Kitty. Belasco knows she killed Cat and that they were close.

"It's gonna be magic and demons, Cajun. Don't think your track record is all that great." The blonde chides him. "The demons I figure you could handle. The magic not so much."

"Demons, magic? At dis point not so much a choice in this kinda matter. Offer on de table, what is a Halloween wit out some magical hijinks after all?" A shrug and he downs a large slug from his cocoa, finishing it off completely. "Some good drink that there." He says in appreciation before tapping his thigh, "C'mon, Lucifer. We got to go hunt down your brothers 'n make sure they not up to no trouble. You know where to find me if you need me, 'yana. Remy is always happy to jump in to some traps."

It might be a smirk, but it's a much more normal expression for her than the pensive look from earlier. "I might take you up on it. I could use a good rat." Her eyes glint with the teasing and she finishes off her own cocoa. The cup is thoughtfully put in the diswasher before she summons a stepping disk at her feet. "Take it easy, Cajun."

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