2013.03.19 - 2013.03.19 Joshua Harris

Early on a Saturday morning there's a knock upon Illyana's dorm room door. If she bothers to look through the peep hole, she'll see a young man with wild dark hair dressed in an overcoat and holding a pad of paper in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

If Illyana were most students, there's no way she'd be up this early on a Saturday morning. But, being that she's not she hasnt' actually been to sleep in the past couple of days and so she's awake. She lives on the 12th and top floor of her dorm in one of the few singles. Dressed in one of Piotr's old shirts and knee-high socks with little skull-and-crossbones on them she eases the door open and peers at the dark-haired man. "Yeah?" She asks, someone suspiciously, not opening the door enough for him to get a good look into the room behind her.

"Hello," Dick Grayson says as he pulls his wallet out and opens it, showing a badge. "My name is Detective Dick Grayson, I'm with the Gotham City Police Department. We're investigating a recent homicide across the river. May I ask you a few questions?"

Illyana's suspicious expression instantly slides into something blank. Emotionless. Some people get nervous when a cop shows up. Apparently the blonde isn't one of them. At least, not in the usual way. She still doesn't step into the hall or open the door any wider as she meets his eyes with her own chilly blue ones. "A little far from the scene of the crime to be asking questions, isn't it?"

Dick nods, "Yes, I'm familiar with the geography of both Gotham City and Metropolis. Also Omaha, Nebraska, but that's sort of a long story and not really pertinent. Is now a bad time, Miss Rasputina?"

The corner of Illyana's mouth kicks up in a smirk at Dick's reply, followed by the slight narrowing of her eyes at his use of her name. She stands there looking at him for a long moment as she considers his question. Talking about a homicide in the hallway isn't likely to improve her reputation on the floor. Inviting him into her room isn't a great option either. "So why are you talking to me?"

"We have reason to believe," Dick says as he looks at his pad, "one of the suspects could be living in this dorm. We're doing a canvass of the area to get some more information." He looks back up, purses his lips and inflates his cheeks while his eyebrows go up, obviously waiting for her response. He takes a swig of his coffee, perhaps the last, because he's looking left and right for a trash receptical.

"So you're going door-to-door on a Saturday morning." Illyana observes. "Well, I suppose you might get someone to drop some information because they're hung over. If they answer the door." Her tone is dry and somewhat mocking. But. If there's a murderer in her dorm... She lets out a slight sigh, because she know he won't just take her word that she's not his suspect. "Let me put some pants on." And then the door is closed firmly in his face. It's only for a few minutes however before she reopens it. Now in jeans and a Metropolis U T-shirt she opens her door and gestures for him to come in. The room is tiny, but that's to be expected. The odd symbols painted onto the wall in what most don't realize is blood? Not so much. "So you need to know what, where I was last night and if someone can vouch for me?"

"Wow," Dick says deadpan. "Who needs college when your standup career is budding? How about you leave the detective work to me and I'll leave the interesting wall art to you." Speaking of, he takes some interest in the decoration and seems to peer at it. "Not exactly. I'm actually wondering what you can tell me about Joshua Harris from dorm room 1283. Right across the hall from you."

"Sorry, most of my experience with homicide comes from watching TV and movies." Illyana says in that almost-sarcastic tone of hers. She frowns as he inspects the Wards she has around her room and looks to distract him, waving him over to the only chair in the room as she sits down on the bed. "Joshua? Not much. Junior, I think? Don't remember his major. Quiet guy. If I didn't make the last floor meeting I might not have ever gotten his name." She's not exactly the most sociable.

"Have you spoken with him recently?" Dick asks, slowly letting his attention flow away from the cryptic work on the walls. "What kind of person is he, in your opinion? Do you have any stories about him?"

Legs folded under her, she picks up the stuffed blue... animal? demon? Something, and puts it in her lap as she considers his question. "I can't say I know him well enough to have much of an opinion." She admits. "I'd say he's shy and avoids me, but I get that from most of the floor." She's smirking again as she says it. Given the cold, cold blue eyes it's hardly surprising that anyone would shy away from them. "The few times I've said hi to him he seemed... skittish."

"Define skittish," Dick says as he looks for a place to put his cup. He finally takes a seat in the chair and puts the paper cup on the floor by his feet before taking out a pen. "I have a hard time believing people avoid you. I used to attend college, I know how it works."

Illyana arches a brow at Dick, seeming amused at his professional observation. Usually all but the perpetually intoxicated take one look in her eyes or feel the chill down their spine as their back brain whispers 'evil!' and they clear the hell out. "Well, then maybe you should tell them how it works." She doesn't sound bitter about it, she's used to it. "And skittish like, doesn't meet my eyes, stumbles over his words, hurries on to wherever it is he's going." So he's either hiding something, scared, or has a crush on her. Hard to tell which.

"Sorry, Miss Rasputina, I have to charge for my dating advice. Gotta make an honest dollar, as you might understand." Dick jots a few notes down upon his pad and chuckles and nods as she discusses Harris' behavior. It's clear what he thinks is the option. "Have you ever seen anything out of the ordinary about Harris that might have jumped out at you?

Illyana's lips quirk into that habitual smirk of hers as he calls her by her family name again. "Just Illyana is fine. I'm a college student. I'm already paying the University for all the advice I can handle." She can't exactly tell the detective that her ruler for 'ordinary' is a bit skewed, and so she just shakes her head. "Can't think of anything much, no." She's not too worried about Dick's investigation. She plans to look into her neighbor herself. Just in case. And he doesn't need to know that.

Dick Grayson nods, "Well, I think that's about all the questions I had for you today. If you happen to see Harris, or notice anything out of the ordinary, would you please contact my office?" Grayson reaches into his coat pocket and produces a card.

Illyana sets her stuffed Bamf to the side and unfolds her legs from where she's sitting so she can lean over to take the card, giving it a cursory glance. Then she looks over at him with those cold hard eyes. He's probably seen eyes like those before. And too many of them are locked away in Arkham. "So you tell me, Detective. Do you think I have anything to worry about?" Given tht she lives across the hall from him.

Dick shakes his head, "No, I don't believe so. Harris is originally from Gotham and last night his parents were found murdered. Attempts to find him have not proven successful. I doubt he's coming back here. Even if he did, he'd be arrested before he hit the elevator."

Illyana's brows go upward again at that information, but there's not the flicker of horror in her expression, not the wincing in her eyes. Emotionally, it doesn't move her at all. "So you've got people watching the dorm, huh?" Which means she might not want to just teleport in and out like she normally does.Someone might notice that she never enters or exits through the front door. "You guys already go through his dorm room?"

Dick shakes his head, "Nah, we're waiting on some evidence to come back. And I don't have anyone watching anything. This is a big level case. Goes right to the top, Illyana."

"If no one's watching, how would he be arrested before he hit the elevator?" The blonde asks, again with that slight smirk. She gives a slight wave of her hand, dismissing any need to answer the comment. "Sorry I'm not more help." She really hasn't made much in the way of friends here on campus.

"You asked if /I/ had people watching." Dick smiles and shrugs his shoulders. "/I/ do not. Have a nice day Miss Rasputina." Dick collects the cup and brings himself to his feet. "Do you mind throwing this out for me? I didn't spy a can anywhere on the way in."

"Semantics. Cute." A demon can appreciate that kinda thing. The blonde holds out her hand for his cup. "Yeah, I've got a trash can around here." The cup also has something of him on it, which might be useful. She stands to open the door for him, leaning a shoulder against it. "You have a nice day too, Detective Grayson."

"What can I say? I'm a detail oriented sort of guy." Dick nods, "Thank you. and remember, if you see anything at all please let me know." He reaches out to shake her hand before moving for the door.

Illyana shifts the card she was holding to her opposite hand so she can grasp his in a firm grip. "Or course." Not likely. "Have a good day, Detective." As he heads out, her own gaze slides towards the door opposite her own. Hmmm.