2013.06.04 - The Prophecy

It's a Monday evening. Finally, the 'day' part of Monday is *over*. Really, can *anyone* have a good Monday? No. No, we think not True Believers. And no matter how bad Peter Park's Monday has *been*? It's about to get worse.
It's seventy degrees out. Which wouldn't be that bad except the humidity was so bad today it felt like you were swimming on land. Finally, it started to rain and that quickly turned into the cracklecrashBOOM! of thunder. The sound of rain hammering on the roof is loud enough to drown out most of the background city noises, and might even obscure the sound of the doorbell the first time. Maybe even the second. Certainly not the third as it's run repeatedly. Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!
Illyana stands under the front awning, absently pushing the doorbell buttong. Push. Push. Push. She's not even looking at the door. She's looking at something in her hands, shuffling them around. Despite the heavy rain, that's been going on for some time now, and despite the fact she doesn't even have an umbrella, her black T-shirt and worn blue jeans along with those agressive-looking boots are perfectly dry.
"Hello, Illyana!" Aunt May says as she finally gets to the door. She's had a tough time lately. A fall has left her with an injured hip and it's difficult for her to get around. She's in a lot of pain and there's not much that they can do for her. "It's good to see you. Sorry, I'm so slow, dear. I take it you're not here to see me..."
Illyana Rasputina glances over as the door opens, probably about to berate Peter for taking so long when Aunt May opens the door. She frowns, seeing the woman is obviously in pain and steps in quickly. "Oh, hey, I'm sorry Mrs. Parker." She actually *does* look sorry, if in a scowly sort of way. Like she's pissed off at whatever decided to jump out and hurt the older woman. The slim cases she's holding get tucked under an arm and she moves to try to help support Peter's Aunt. "Let me help you sit down."
"Oh thank you dear," May says and appreciates the assistance and guides Illyana back to her recliner. "Peter!" she yells. "Oh, honey, go ahead and go right up. With that music, he can never hear me down here."
Illyana Rasputina is still frowning as she helps get May settled, but not at the woman. "You sure you're OK? I can get you some tea. Or cocoa. That's uh, that's about all i can make." Illyana admits, standing there with a slight scowl, one hand on her hip as she looks down at May as though to ascertain if the woman is indeed comfortable enough for her to leave.
"Oh no, Illyana. I'm fine. I have my water bottle. The doctor says I'll be right as rain in a couple weeks. I'll be back to doing my normal routine. Just will take a while for the strain to heal. I'm not young like you two anymore." May smiles a bit and then looks up the stairs. "Peter!"
"Yeah?!"
"Turn down that music. Illyana's here. I'm sending her up!
Illyana Rasputina lingers there another moment, even after May says she's alright, before finally giving a slight nod and then heading for the stairs. The tread of those heavy boots is hard to miss given that she might be stomping. Just a bit.
By the time Illyana gets to Peter's room, the door is open and Peter is leaning back in his computer chair with a flat forced grin, and upward look, and a hand propping his head awkwardly. "Illyana. To what do I owe this honor?"
Illyana Rasputina strides into Peter's room like she's got every right to be there and flops down on his bed. Given as there's not a lot of other places to sit and Peter's currently in it. "Next time, I won't bother with the door. What happened to your aunt?"
Peter uses his off hand to swing the swivel chair around to face Illyana. He brings his skinny legs up under him in the chair. "She got her foot caught right at the awkward part when your foot hits the curb but not all your weight is on top. She sort of slipped down, caught the curb on her ankle and did something to her hip. She says she'll be alright, and she's tough."
Illyana Rasputina is still frowning, looking out through his still-open door. She's scooted back on his bed, so she can lean against the wall, but keeps her feet off the bed. Finally, she pulls the three DVD cases and tosses them his way, one after another. She doesn't worry that he might miss. She knows if he does it's entirely on purpose. They're a couple of new release movies and one classic. Well, to her. Prophecy, with Christopher Walken.
"DVD's. For me? Awwww. You shouldn't...just kidding. Awesome. What are these for?" Peter asks as he checks them out. "I haven't seen any of these."
Illyana Rasputina hitches a shoulder. "It's one of the few 'normal' hobbies I have." She admits. "So. You wanted to hang out again, right?" She's got that slight scowl going again and, after a pause. "I don't know if this'll work." She admits. "And hopefully trying doesn't go.. I dunno, horribly wrong."
Peter's smile is a 1000 watts. "Hey, no problem. Let's pop it in and take a look. If it works, it works. If it doesn't, you at least did me the honor of trying, right?" He opens the dvd case, pops it into his rom drive. Maximizes the screen, and with mutated grace, does a quick handstand topple onto the bed, holding a foot out to catch and prop the chair back up before sitting next to Illyana.
Illyana Rasputina doesn't smile as Peter settles in next to her, and her attention is on him, not the movie that works on queuing up. The fluid, perhaps even inhuman way he moves doesn't get much attention from her which might be both refreshing and disappointing. The first because she obviously sees him just like anyone else, the latter because well... it's pretty cool, isn't it? But there's no gaping in awe. "Do you get it? Why it's an issue? Why it's hard?" It's like they speak such different languages and so much is lost in translation.
"I think so," Peter says, hugging his knee and looking over at her. "You took a big step to be with me, and it didn't work out like either of us had planned. And that really sucks."
Illyana Rasputina shakes her head. "No. I mean, that was there. That made it harder. But that's why I was able to let you go." She starts to draw her knees upwards, but then gives an absent scowl and straightens her legs back out. Big scary demon sorceress, manners won't let her put her feet on the bed with her boots on. "I said you were mine. You said OK. And then you took yourself away. I wanted..." Her hands close into fists, tightening slowly until the knuckles turned white. "I wanted to take you back. Because it doesn't matter. What's mine is mine. No one takes what's mine."
"And still you let me go," Peter says. "I don't want to harp on the demon vs. human thing, but doesn't that tell you something? Or am I reading too much into it?"
Illyana Rasputina cuts her hard, cold gaze his way. "Yeah. I did." She admits, and maybe her tone is just a bit softer. Gentler. "But I didn't see you. I could try to forget. I can't, if we do this." Now, now that conflict is reawakened.
"So what does that mean," Peter asks earnestly.
"That I don't know if I can do this. That I don't know how it'll turn out." Illyana admits. "And I might try to take you back, no matter what you want. Or I might just make your life Hell. I dunno." Her hands slowly unclench as she lets out a quiet breath.
Peter inhales and exhales, looking away as he thinks. "Well, in the end, I don't know you as well as you know you. If it's something that puts me in harms way, I don't really know how to answer."
"It could." Illyana answers with a slight shrug, not looking at him now, her shoulders drawing upwards just a bit. "That's always been a risk. Being my friend, being something more. It's always a risk." She repeats, words a touch softer. "Maybe I can learn to let it go. Just be friends like we were. But still." He knows the other side of her life. Or knew. He doesn't know what she's involved with now.
Peter shrugs his shoulders, "I don't really know what to say. Other than we take it as it goes. I mean, what else can we do? Should we just walk away? I can do that if that's what you want."
Illyana Rasputina tilts her head back until it *thumps* against the wall softly and she stares up at the ceiling. "I don't know." She finally admits, sounding tired. "I've been going 'round and 'round for... I don't know how long trying to figure it out. And I don't have any good answers. Do I *want*? To walk away? No. I *want* to remind you that you're mine and you don't get to just walk away."
"You know, if you weren't a demon who ruled over a land in a different dimension, that'd sound pretty creepy," Peter says with a chuckle.
Illyana Rasputina looks over at him and he finally gets a hint of a smirk from her. "It still sounds creepy." She knows it does. The warped smile doesn't last long. "I tried to explain. To make sure you understood. To tell you all of it. But it didn't really help us, did it?"
Peter shakes his head, "No, but I don't think that's the reason we split. I mean, I think it was for more human reasons than non-human ones."
Illyana Rasputina gives a slight nod. "Yeah. But if understood being human better, maybe I wouldn't have put us in that situation." Illyana points out. Her breath goes out of her in a sigh and she nods at the screen, slouching down a bit. "Hit play." Will they be able to find that early common ground again? Guess only time will tell.
Peter hits play and gives her a weary smile before elbowing her in the ribs. "Did this get good reviews on Rotten Tomatoes?"
Category:Log