2013-01-03 Pretty Low Key

News has spread among all the channels that Iceman is dead.

Then there's been the whole Jean incident.

And Latveria.

And Hank just now coming back.

Scott had been gone for months and by the time he came back things seem to have hit the team like a ton of bricks. Currently he's sitting at the computer banks pouring over data, trying to find any information about the woman with knives for nails. The lady who killed Bobby.

The holidays are a time when people come together, visit friends and family, bridging the distances and taking the time. That makes it almost amusing that the young woman to whom both time and space mean so little... never dropped by.

But then Illyana's never been big on Christmas. Even with it as commercial and watered-down as it is. As others gathered round to spread good cheer, the anti-social blonde was, unsurprisingly, absent. Even now when she shows up, she teleports straight down into the War Room, where few people habitually spend time, instead of into the upper levels where there are students and faculty.

The demon sorceress is dressed fairly casually, wearing the knee-high leather boots she's so fond of with jeans and an NYU T-shirt.

The shift in Scott's eyebrows lets her know he's looking up at her. Eventually, his chin comes off of his fist as he regards her. "Illyana. Happy New Year. How are you?"

There's not really any surprise at seeing Scott there. He's the leader of the X-Men, he's the most likely one to be here. Illyana gives Scott a nod in return, stepping over his way. "Happy New Year." She says with the absent manner of someone mouthing platitudes. "You saved me an intercom call. I wanted to borrow your computers." Not 'a' computer. One that's got a bit more resources and oomph than say, a laptop.

"Fine by me," Scott mutters and his face tilts downward to inspect his screen once more. As almost an afterthought he asks her, "Did you hear about Bobby?" His voice remains pretty grim while the flickering and changing pages light up his face in different ways every so often.

Illyana isn't on the top of most people's lists to call about... well, anything and she doesn't normally hang out with Piotr until the weekend. Her brow furrows slightly and she shakes her head. "Bobby? No. I haven't seen him since he helped stop Adg."

Scott takes a deep inward breath and double taps the page he's working on, minimizing it. He folds his hands in his lap and looks back to her. "Illyana, Bobby is dead."

Illyana's concerned expression slips away, leaving it... blank. Empty. If they were outside, Scott might blame the chill on a sudden breeze but here, it's all climate-controlled. But it still seems to drop a few degrees, and Illyana's eyes are nothing but cold, emotionless ice. "How." A simple, soft word.

Scott leans forward, away from his computer. His arms prop themselves up in his knees and his head hangs a bit. There's another sharp intake and he shakes his head intermittently and slowly as he recants the story. "A few days ago the hospital...the hospital in town came under attack. Many of the mutant patients were being taken as hostage. Bobby and I responded...and he died. There was this...this woman. This mutant woman with large silver...Talons. Claws that came from her nails. She killed him."

Illyana slowly turns away, her hands slipping into her back pockets and there's the quiet whisper of a sigh. "And she got away." It's a guess, but Illyana knows how Scott gives reports. He'd probably have mentioned it.

Scott nods and licks his lips before pursing them. After a pause he mutters, "Yeah. I let her get away." He leans back in his chair and seems to be looking off in the distance, somewhere past Illyana."

Illyana leans back against one of the consoles, not looking over at Scott and off into some middle distance herself. "Because you were trying to save Bobby? Or because you weren't willing to kill her stop her?" There's no accusation, just that eerie, flat tone.

"The former," Scott says with a sigh. "When they were engaged, I was hanging by a line off the side of a building. I saw her finish stabbing him and push him off the side."

"Then you didn't 'let' her get away, Scott. She got away." The blonde finally does look over at him, even if he's not looking her way. Those blue eyes aren't any warmer, if anything they seem more brittle and sharp. Her arms come up to cross in front of herself. "Leads?"

"Not much," Scott says softly. "She downloaded some list from the computer banks at the Hospital. List of mutants. Not sure which. Not sure why." He sighs. "Fairly sure she herself was a mutant, but the hostages were not going willingly. They weren't being liberated."

"The hospital had a list of mutants?" Illyana says, the hint of a frown cracking that empty facade. "And they're too many to watch all of them." The X-Men aren't some huge government operation. Nor would calling the government in be helpful. And they'd get in the way of any revenge. "I don't think I have any resources you don't to offer. Unless you got a piece of her."

Scott shakes his head, "I believe the hospital was picked explicitly because of the mutant population. I should say that I believe everyone taken was a mutant. Is a mutant. But I cannot confirm that, no."

Illyana's eyes narrow. Just a touch. "Do you have a list of those taken?"

"Everything she did was encrypted. I'm having some of our more tech savvy guys look at it to see exactly what she took," Scott replies.

Illyana gives a small, sharp nod. "If you can get the identities of those taken, and we can track that back to where they live, I might be able to use a sympathetic connection to find them." Which might get them a step closer to Bobby's killer. "It's not a sure thing but..." She shrugs. "It's what I have." She's still eerily unemotional, but that isn't likely to surprise Scott. When she got back from Limbo it was a long time before she showed much in the way of emotion. Others might rage and scream or cry, but not Illyana.

Scott nods, "If we're able to get anything from what we have, you'll be one of the first people I call. Thank you." He seems somewhat relieved. Emphasis on the somewhat.

Illyana is silent for a long moment, that compassionless icy gaze resting on him. "If it were me, I'd have gone after her. And if Bobby hadn't already been dead, he'd still have died. Because I'd have gone for revenge first." She pushes away from the console, stepping over to Scott and laying a hand lightly on his shoulder. "She got away, but you didn't make the wrong call, Scott." Her touch falls away. "And Bobby knew the risks." Just like Sam did.

"At the time I was pretty much helpless. Hanging off the side of the building. I probably would have chased her had I had any hope in catching her. There was no shot." Scott doesn't say anything about Bobby or risks.

Illyana doesn't try to convince or argue with Scott past what she had to say. She's let him know what she thinks. The rest will be on him. "When's the funeral?"

"I'm not sure. The Professor will be contacting family and friends. There's..." Scott swallows with some difficulty. "There's no body. So...there's not that issue of a timetable, I suppose."

Illyana gives a slight nod. "I'm sure Piotr will let me know." She doesn't ask Scott to let her know. He's obviously got more than enough on his plate.

Scott can see what's on her mind, though. "You'll be sure to get an invite. Not sure if the Professor will do it through his own means, or someone else will, but I'll make sure you know about it.

Illyana's lips quirk up a bit, but it's not a smile. It's not even one of her usual smirks. "Even if I find out about it too late, I'll make it." It's a joke right? Illyana doesn't normally teleport through time. Much. Gets messy.

Scott chuckles and shakes his head, "Why do I get the feeling I don't want to know."

For a moment, there's a flicker of emotion in the depths of Illyana's eyes. A wicked, almost mocking amusement not at Scott, but at life. At the world. And beneath that, like rain on the ocean, a quiet sorrow. "Everyone knows that with me, it's better not to know."

"I guess it's a good thing you remain so vigilantly stoic," Scott says, looking up to her. "How are things on your end?"

Now there's the flicker of a smile. There and gone. "Pretty low-key." She still shows up in the news on occasion, because of the past Titans affiliation and because she's shown up several times with Kid Flash, who's a bit more of a media enthusiast. There's a thoughtful pause, and then a slight frown. "The Titans might be asking me back."

Scott nods a few times, making a face of consideration before responding. "What are you going to say?" he asks plainly, turning his face towards her.

Illyana shakes her head, leaning back against the console next to him, and her arms cross in front of her again. "I don't know. Piotr wanted me to do it. That's why I went. And I could see a purpose in it." Helping people, putting a face on mutants, stuff like that. "But there was that whole debacle with Nightwing and then I go back and there's naked aliens and pizza and..." Her head tilts forward a bit as she shakes it, blonde hair sliding over her shoulders and partially obscuring her face. "This isn't a game." Something that Nightwing never seemed to understand that Illyana knew all too well.

Scott looks perplexed as she mentions naked alients, but doesn't ask. "I'd stay away from the pizza. That much grease and cheeze won't be helpful to your training." He nearly snorts before adding, "I'm not going to tell you what to do. Reasons to go back. Reasons not to go back. But you're right. It's no game."

"I still need to talk to Red Robin, who it sounds like is taking over for Nightwing. Maybe he won't think that I want to take over his team. As if riding herd on an entire dimension of demons wasn't enough work." Illyana says, her tone easing back into that dark mocking that is at least not the empty almost monotone of earlier. "They do have a lot of resources that could be useful. And the mission is still there." She gives a shrug.

Scott nods, "Looks like you have a big decision to make." Pause. "I trust your judgement. You'll make the right one."

Illyana gives one of those brief, flickering smiles. "Now that's frightening." She says dryly. "My judgement is probably one of the most flawed things about me. Luckily, I don't listen to myself too often."

Scott shakes his head, "I feel confident you'll make a wise decision, Illyana. And you know what I meant."

Illyana makes one of those soft, brief sounds that for another person might be a chuckle. She nods. "I know what you meant." She agrees. There's a long, quiet moment then before Illyana offers, "I'm sorry, Scott." Illyana knew Bobby and through Xavier's considered him family. But he and Scott were close. She reaches out to squeeze his shoulder and then moves away, over to one of the computer consoles to give Scott the space and quiet that he might have been down here seeking because in her experience, words only go so far.

"Thanks," Scott says solemnly, reaching up to grasp her hand while it's on his shoulder, before releasing it quickly. After that, he goes quiet, getting back to work.