FANDOM


Card Declined
Rplog-icon Who: Illyana and Peter Parker
Where: New York City
When: July 18, 2012
Tone: Romantic
What: Peter comes back to try to ask Illyana out for pizza. It's too bad when he can't pay.



Day number two. If she didn't know better, maybe Illyana would think that the boy, that high school boy came back to the scene of the crime just to see her. But he's carrying a solder gun, so it looks like he's planning to fix Howie's gaming system. Even so, he knocks on Illyana's door all the same. Even though she doesn't have a gaming system. Or that one, anyways.

Illyana actually has no gaming system at all, nope. After a brief delay, the door to Illyana's dorm room opens and the blonde herself is there. She's in shorts and a T-shirt and looks mildly surprised to see him. "Hey. Long time no see." She says with a smirk. Because he did say something about 'next week', didn't he?

"Oh, right," Peter responds, holding up the solder gun. "Came to uh...Fix the Nintendo. Fix the Nintendo, yep. And to uh...see if you...If uh.." He sort of stutters and the gears start grinding and the conversation opener sort of gets away from him.

Illyana leans a shoulder against her door frame and crosses her arms as she looks at him, one blonde brow going up. "See if I...." She says, trailing off and waiting for him to fill in the blank, as it were. That smirk is still quite firmly in place.

"See, if you like...food," Peter begins, his eyes go big for a moment as he tries to find the words, "I mean, like. If you're hungry. I mean, are you hungry?"

"Food's sort of on my 'have once or twice a day' list, yeah." Illyana says, blue eyes dancing with amusement as Peter finally manages to spit out what he meant. She watches him for a long moment after he asks the question, saying nothing, giving him time to squirm before she finally says. "I am sorta, yeah. It being about dinner time." She's still smirking at him.

"Would you...uh. Do you like pizza?" Peter chuckles awkwardly in an exhale and scratches at the back of his head, "I don't know why this is so difficult. Uhm. There's a pizza place over on the corner just past the superblock. We could...we could go there and...eat."

"We could." The following silence might make Peter think that she's going to make him sweat for every question, but finally she relents. "Hey Peter, I'm gonna go get some pizza over on the corner. You wanna come?" Oh yeah, she's teasing him. See how easy that was??

"Yeah, that sounds great," Peter says with a smile and does a little skip hop out into the hallway. His long arms reach out to the ends of where he grasps the sleeves of his hoodie, "It's really good pizza there. Promise."

Illyana slides some sandals on her bare feet and grabs a hoodie herself and nods to Peter's soldering gun. "Did you want to leave that here, or does it like pizza too?" Her hoodie has the log of Xavier's on it.

"What, this? Oh! Right!" Good thinking Illyana, because that was going to be a plot device. Don't worry, I'll think up something else. "Nice jacket. That a school or something?" Peter asks as they begin walking down the corridor to the stairs. Howie is summarily forgotten.

"Yeah, the boarding school I want to over in Westchester." Illyana says as she shrugs on the hoodie. "We are *not* known for our football team." Illyana says with a smirk. Poor, poor Howie.

"That's okay, I never liked football anyways." Peter opens the door for the pair and the sky is much cooler in feel than it has been the last couple days and it looks as if it might rain. "What kind of pizza do you like?"

"Chicken, bacon, and fresh tomatoes. But really, anything with cheese is good." Illyana says before pausing. "Except pineapple. I don't like pineapple on my pizza. She tucks her arms around her as they walk and looks over at him. "So you decide I'm not too crazy, what with believing in aliens and all of that?"

"Chicken, bac...wow. What a coincidence. I also like chicken, bacon, and fresh tomatoes with extra cheese. Well, I just decided I liked it anyways." Peter smiles and nods, "Not too crazy anyways. We're all kind of crazy, right?"

Illyana gives a soft huff of amusement as Peter decides he likes it. At least he admitted he's kinda making it up. "Uh-huh. So what's your particular brand of crazy then, Peter?"

"Crazy with a cute haircut and blue eyes," Peter says with a chuckle. "And crazy that likes chicken, bacon, and fresh tomatoes on their pizza. There it is." He points across the street as they come to the corner. It...doesn't look like much. Hole in the wall, really.

Illyana rolls her eyes, though she's still smirking. The blonde looks over at the pizza joint, but doesn't seem too put-out that it's a hole in the wall. That's where you find some of the best food! "So I'm guessing you're something of a tech-guy. What with the soldering and everything."

"Yeah, little bit. I like to make machines. That sort of thing." Peter opens the door for Illyana and picks out a seat by the window. Almost right when they enter it begins to rain. He slides into the seat, all arms and legs in a gangly mess and cups his chin in his hands. "Why NYU?"

Illyana settles into a comfortable sprawl on her side, looking out into the rain as she answers. "Why not? New York's a pretty busy town. Figure I shouldn't get too bored." She glances over at him then. "I'm really not very gadget-inclined." She warns.

Peter shakes his head, "That's okay. I'm not sure they'd help you eat Pizza. Least not right now. We'd have to go get them, and they'd get wet." A waitress comes by to take their order and Peter steps up right away, "Large chicken, bacon, and tomato. Soda....soda okay?"

Illyana tilts her head in a nod, looking to the waitress. "Pepsi?" Can't have pizza without Pepsi! She rolls her eyes a bit as she looks back to Peter. "No, I meant conversation-wise. The techie types I know, that's all they talk about."

"We can..." Peter looks to Illyana, but then realizes he should finish ordering the Pepsi and no they don't want any appetizers, thank you. "We can talk about other stuff. I don't ...know anything about metal. The music I mean. I know a lot about like...metals."

"You do really well in school, don't you?" Illyana asks, those blue eyes glinting with amusement.

"You're avoiding the question, Illyana," Peter says with a smile. "I do pretty well, yeah. I actually just got an internship. A place called OsCorp. My dad used to work th...You know, you're learning all this stuff about me, but it's not vice versa. It's probably really boring and every girl I know loves to talk about themselves. What gives?"

"There was a question?" Illyana asks, all innocence and light. "Know a lot of girls, do you Peter?" Drinks arrive early, and she purses her lips around the straw, sipping as she watches him over her glass.

Peter takes the straw into his mouth and nods, "There was." He finishes his gulp and nods, "I know a few. I mean, my school isn't very big, but it has...girls...and stuff. They have hair and makeup and cell phones and everything."

"I bet you have hair and a cellphone too. Not defining characteristics of being a girl." Illyana traces the rim of her glass with a fingertip and lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "I don't like to talk about myself much. And I've already told you too much. I let you in on the 'crazy'." She says, smirking.

"Yeah, they're a lot like me, except they are generally shorter and smell better." Peter shrugs his shoulders and laughs, "You don't seem crazy to me."

"Or at least not crazy enough to be scary, hmm?" Illyana's attention is back to the window, watching the rain fall. "So don't internships generally happen after you have a degree in something?"

Peter shakes his head, "Nah, here in the city at some of the tech corporations, they do internships for seniors." He coughs a bit," which you know I am going to be in a month. Anyways, science nerds apply and some get chosen. Yesterday was my lucky day."

"Things I did not know." Illyana says with a nod and that ever-amused air. "It's good you know what you want to do with your life, though. Like, a career and all that."

"It's good to be free, too, Illyana. You'll get that whole future thing figured out, I imagine." Peter smiles at her as the pizza arrives. Peter is quick to cut a piece away and put it on a plate for her.

Illyana gives Peter a quick, brief smile in thanks as he slides the slice over her way and turns towards away from the rain and back towards the table. "Yeah. I'm sure I will someday." She doesn't sound very convinced. She takes a bite and watches Peter, fairly sure he's never had this particular pizza before.

Peter takes some into his mouth and nods. He should probably not talk with his mouth full, but he exclaims anyhow, "It's good! It's really good!"

Illyana watches him with amusement, and she actually finishes chewing before replying. "You were worried, huh? It's got bacon. How can you go wrong?"

"Not too worried. Only kind of worried." Peter chuckles and eats the rest of the pizza. "So what does Illyana like to do with her free time?"

Illyana takes a bit more time eating her own pizza. "Illyana," She says, continuing with the third-person approach. "Likes to go to listen to live music, hang out with her brother, and avoid schoolwork. What about Peter?"

"Peter likes to help people with their homework, avoid brothers, and go to live music. And gizmos. He likes gizmos, too." Peter smiles and goes for a second piece.

Illyana laughs when he says he likes to avoid brothers. "My brother's named Peter too, you know." She takes another bite and then corrects herself. "He's usually called Peter or Pete, anyhow. It's actually Piotr." She says, giving it the proper Russian inflections.

"I like him already. Does he like machines too? And, you guys are Russian then?" Pete tilts his head, "Exotic."

"So now you don't want to avoid him?" Illyana teases, and then shakes her head. "He's an artist. And yeah. I suppose I didn't tell you my last name was Rasputin, hmm?" Because c'mon, can you get more Russian than that?? "I haven't lived there in a long time." Which is why she doesn't really have any real accent.

"Well contrary to the historical implications, I am know right in the middle on the name Rasputin. Unless you fool me into giving away my kingdom, by helping hemophiliacs, and start carousing with all sorts of undesirables."

A to go box, combined with the tab is plopped down on the table by the waitress and the implication, in all its Big Apple Glory, is clear. "I guess I'll go take care of the tab. Be right back." Peter grabs the check and gets up to the counter. He reaches into his wallet and produces his check card.

"That'll be 18.75," says the teller, a large man with grease stains on his apron. "Thanks," he says as he takes the card and swipes it. Beat. Beat. "I'm sorry, dude, it's coming up as declined."

"What?" It says it's declined." "Aw, come on man." "Let me try it again." Peter looks back at Illyana nervously and waves. Dammit. Did his paycheck from the pizza place /he/ works not clear? Dammit.

"Still declined dude."

"Crap, really?" Peter asks. "What do I do?"

"Uh. You pay for your pizza dude."

"You have a kingdom? I am *so* on it." Illyana says guilelessly. She leans back and nods as Peter ducks over to pay the bill and amuses herself by finishing her pizza and watching the rain. And watching and... what's taking so long? She looks back over, leaning to the side to get a glimpse of what exactly Peter's up to.

In a word: pleading.

"Please dude, I can. . ."

"Dude, you gotta pay for the pizza why don't you ca. . ."

"I can't mess this up."

"ll your mom or da. . ."

"My ma. . .Dad?" Peter looks incredulous. "Come on. Try it again." The teller does it. Declined.

Illyana kicks a foot idly, looking over. If Peter looks her way, she arches a brow at him. She's already put the pizza in the box and is waaaaaiting. She's noticed that he's started to sweat though, and he can see her getting up. Yeah, looks like she's about to head over!

"Come on man, there's gotta be something you can do for me here. Here. Take my wallet. I'll come back tomorrow and finish the tab." "If I thought your wallet had anything of value we wouldn't be having this conversation," replies the teller as Illyana approaches. "Hello. Your boyfriend's card has been declined. I understand this is highly embarrassing for him and please" He turns to Peter, "know that I can only imagine what you're going through now guy, but the fact remains that the pizza must be paid for or the cops will be called.

Illyana doesn't look over at Peter, she just arches one blonde brow at the pizza guy. There's one of those long pauses that Illyana seems to favor, as she just watches the guy and while she usually seems amused (if mockingly so) around Peter, as she looks at the other guy her blue eyes are like ice. Hard and... more than a little creepy. But then she doesn't have that gaze turned on Peter, so he might not notice it since he's probably trying not to blush or stutter himself to death. Finally Illyana pulls out a slim case and pulls out a card herself and hands it over to the guy without saying a word.

The teller looks a bit terrified, and goes cold quiet. He takes the card however, and runs it, all the while Peter is hiding his face in his hand in shame. It goes through. He slides the receipt over. It seems likely there will be no tip. Peter slips out to the street in the rain.

There's a reason that Illyana mocks people. Then she's amused. It's better if people amuse her than annoy her because, well. She's not much of a people person. She actually does leave a proper tip, because the pizza was good and it's close to the dorm and she'd like to eat there again without someone spitting in her food. "I think." She says, as she signs, glancing back up to him. "You could have done without the threat of the police." She says with perfect politeness. Then she gives the guy a smile that doesn't come anywhere near her eyes and heads out to join Peter after picking up the box with the rest of the pizza. She pulls up her hoodie as she steps out. "Too bad I lost my umbrella the other night." She remarks.

Sulleny, Peter looks over at her, giving an upwards nod. He forgets to bring up his own hoodie, "Listen, I'm really sorry about that. I thought my check from work cleared. I'll pay you back."

Illyana passes the box over to Peter, leaning towards him. "I paid, you carry." She shrugs, starting to walk even if it is raining, and not seeming too bothered by it. "I made my brother pay for it. He's always trying to get me to be social."

Peter takes the box and slowly walks alongside Illyana. He doesn't seem bothered either. By the rain that is. "Well, I guess now I'll have to meet him so I can give him his money." Peter sighs, "Don't tell me. He's like a 6 foot 200 pound linebacker, isn't he?"

Illyana laughs softly. "He's an artist, remember? He teaches art, even." She'll just skip mentioning that Piotr's more like 6'-6" and 250 lbs. It doesn't matter, right? "He's totally a sweetheart." To his 'Little Snowflake' anyhow.

"Right. Artist. Forgot." Pete nods a bit as they get closer to the dorm. "I'm sure he could really use the money, then. Aren't they all starving? Maybe we should save the pizza for him."

"He teaches at Xavier's." Illyana says, thumbing the logo on her hoodie. "So, regular income. Careful though, he's likely to make you help with the 4-H club or do volunteer work or something if you try to pay him back. Might be easier to just let it go." She advises.

"I'll take my chances," Peter says as they get to the dorm and he opens the door for her before following her in.

When they step in, Illyana pushes her hood back. The hoodie's pretty soaked, since it's not a raincoat and so is the clothes beneath. Her hair is mostly dry though. She chuckles and shakes her head. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Yeah, yeah." Peter says as he soggily moves towards Illyana's room. "I'm sure you'll be happy to tell me you told me so." He reaches into his pocket for his subway ticket, groaning. Yep. Sure as crap. It's soaked through and in pieces. Great.

Illyana unlocks the door, blocking the way with her body as she opens it and pauses for a moment (making sure any demons lounging around get themselves hidden) and then she steps in and holds the door for him. Her wet hoodie is hung over the back of a chair and she looks over at him as he groans. "Looks like you're having a hell of a Bad Day, Pete."

"Yeah," Peter says with a bit of a sulk. "It's kind of my gig. It's what I do." He makes a face and sort of stands in the doorway. "I guess I should probably get going. Sorry that I kind of ruined things."

"Well, now that you're feeling all guilty and like you owe me, you have to do what I say, hmm? Come in." Illyana says, gesturing him with a hand. "You can borrow a shirt." She heads over to her closet, opening it and starting to flip through the shirts on hangers.

"Yeah, I am feeling pretty guilty." Peter laughs as he takes a step in and closes the door behind him. "I'm not sure your shirts are going to fit me, Illyana."

"No if I want you to wear one of my *many* frilly pink baby-dolls, no." Illyana says, her tone conveying the straight face she has. Mind you, if Peter looks there's no pink in her wardrobe. A whole lot of black, though. "I have some bigger T-shirts that should work." She finds an Anthrax T-shirt that's sized Large and tosses it his way. "Some days you just want sloppy clothes."

Peter holds up the Anthrax shirt with a raised eyebrow and begins to shrug out of his hoodie. "I can't remember, did you say you had a room mate? Or are you getting one when school starts in earnest. He looks around for a place to drop his hoodie, setting on his legs and feet in order not to make it more wet than he's already making it. He shrugs out of his shirt and balls it up, reaching for the dry Anthrax shirt on the ground.

Illyana holds out her hand for the wet hoodie to put with hers. The shirt is all black with a with a clock that's got skulls in place of the 12, 3, 6 and 9. "Haven't gotten one yet. So I might not get one until Fall. But they won't tell me for sure, so I can't go appropriating their side of the room."

Peter pulls the t-shirt over his skinny frame and looks it over with a smile. He looks to Illyana and gives her the sign of the horns. "You know, if I only had some eyeliner and some black nailpolish, I could totally pull this off."

Illyana ducks her head, smothering a snicker as Peter throws up the horns. When he mentions that though? She starts to grin. Turning over to her desk she opens a drawer and pulls out a small bottle of black nail polish and starts to shake it. "Why don't you have a seat?" She says, oh-so-sweetly.

"This is not worth 20 bucks," Peter says and does as he's told. What? When in Rome. Besides, he's not looking forward to that walk. To Queens.

Illyana grabs the other chair, dragging it over so that Peter can put his hands down on the desk. She uncaps the bottle and then leans over to start in on his nails. "Don't worry, my mascara is waterproof."

"Oh thank goodness," Peter says smiling and looking at her eyes while she looks at his hands. "That way it won't run with all the tears I'm about to cry when I look absolutely ridiculous."

Illyana makes a sound of disapproval. "No way. You'll look great." Despite everything, something about her seems... softer as she's working with such focus on his nails. Maybe it's just her eyes, able to slide through so many shades. "Though if you're worried I'm sure I have some black lipstick to make the whole ensemble complete." One corner of her lips quirk upwards, smirking to herself. "Where do you live, anyhow? Close?"

"Oh, let's...let's just stick with the nail polish and the eyeliner for now, k?" Peter smiles as his eyes watch her paint his fingernails. "I live over in Queens."

A frown touches her lips lightly. "Is that far?" She dips the brush and shakes her head. "I'm not really good with time and distances." That's... sort of an understatement. She went to Metropolis for ice cream!

Peter shrugs his shoulders, "It's not too bad." Between 10 or 15 miles. Not tough when you have web shooters, really. Hopefully the rain dies down. "I've done it before."

Illyana grins. An actual grin and not a smirk that seems to light her blue eyes. "Now who's avoiding the question?" She teases before looking back down and blowing lightly on the wet polish.

Illyana wrinkles her nose as he says ten miles. "You sure? I could see if Piotr's in town. I'll refrain from putting sparkles or something on them." Illyana says, presumably of his nails as she finishes the last stroke.

"Nah, it's fine. Honestly, I owe the guy 20 bucks. I don't think he's going to want to cart me back to Queens." Peter pulls up his fingers to inspect them. "I'd be a bit afraid if he did." He holds his hands out, "I kind of look like I should be in a band."

"Play any instruments?" Illyana asks, capping the bottle and then rooting around in her drawer to find, yes, eyeliner. "Eh. He's a big softie." Especially for Illyana. She looks back at Peter and then reaches out for his glasses.

Peter shakes his head, "No, unfortunately, I don't. I guess I'll just have to play Lead Screamer." As she reaches up to take his glasses, Peter smirks and watches her eyes.

Illyana folds them and sets them aside before reaching out to brush his hair back from his face. She gives him another of those grins that almost seem out of place, like she should only know how to smirk, and pulls the wand free. "Look up."

Peter's smirk grows and his eyes move upwards to look at the stucco-y finish along the ceiling. "I wonder how old these dorms are," he says, because he does that sort of thing when ruining moods.

Illyana hitches a shoulder in a shrug as she carefully applies the liner to his eyes with a steady hand. "Old enough to seem old." She says helpfully. "You still need to help Howie with his game-thing tonight?"

"No," Peter says plainly. "I actually didn't tell him I was coming. I just used it as a ruse to come see you. I don't even think he's here tonight." Pause. "Sucker."

Illyana's hand pauses as she switches focus from what she's doing to him and her lips settle in that familiar smirk. "I hope you're not calling *me* a sucker." She says, tone dry. "You carried that thing all the way from Queens when you could have just asked me to get pizza?"

Parker would shrug, but he's careful not to get an eyeliner thing caught in his retina. "Maybe I could have. But I had to have a quick out if it didn't work." Uh. It kind of almost didn't Pete.

Illyana chuckles. "To save your pride?" Now she's teasing. Because really, not having the money for pizza was probably worse than not having a 'quick out'. "Always planning an escape stragety. I'll remember that." Her attention has turned to his eyes again as she re-dips the slender brush. He can feel the wet tickle along his skin as she outlines his eyes. Finally she sits back, giving him an appraising look.

"Yep. You know me. Need plenty of pride savin," Peter sighs and looks at her through peering eyes. "How bad does it look?"

Illyana chuckles, tossing the eyeliner back into the drawer. "You look awesome." She declares, sliding her chair out of the way so he can look at the long mirror mounted to one of the closet walls. "I would not be embarrassed if you were dancing with me at one of the clubs." Well, until she saw him dance, right?

"Well, until you saw me dance, right?" Pete winks at her and looks at himself in the mirror. "Wow. I /totally/ want to listen to the Cure right now and hang out by candles."

Illyana arches a brow at him... archly. "Are you mocking me, Peter? I think you're mocking me." Mind you, she looks totally normal today in her shorts and T-shirt. That's *not* a metal-band shirt. Shocking, isn't it? "I happen to have candles." In fact, he sees one flare into life over his shoulder through the mirror on a small shelf.

"I'm not mocking you," Peter says with a smile as he sits up. "I'm mocking Robert Smith. Of course, I kind of like Robert Smith, but that's sort of besides the point for all of this, right?" Peter raises an eyebrow at the candle.

"Did that thing just light on its own?"

Illyana is sitting on the chair that belongs to her eventual roommate, backwards, her arms crossed along the chairback. She smirks at him as he asks the question, but doesn't answer.

"Now who's evading?" Peter smiles as he looks towards her, leaning in a bit. "I'm beginning to think your room is haunted."

"I did suggest that." Illyana notes, not looking terribly freaked out about it. As he leans in she reaches out to mess with his hair, as though water alone will let her style it.

Peter looks for a moment as if he's going to say or do something, but then apprehension gets the better of him. He gives a smile/chuckle/exhale thing, "I should, uh....I should probably go. It's late."

Illyana chuckles and lets her arm fall back to the chair back. "I suppose, if I were nice, I'd give you my phone number. So you could call instead of coming all the way out from Queens."

"Are you nice?" Peter asks as he pulls himself up slowly. "Because I'm totally gonna get ganked looking like this, but if your number is included, it'll be worth it. And if you're feeling extra generous, I'd like to get your brothers because I need to pay him his 20 bucks when the check clears.

"You got beat up a lot as a kid, didn't you?" Illyana guesses. "I'm actually not nice." She notes. "But. Maybe I'll give you my brother's number, and then you'll have to get mine from his. That should be amusing." She says as she's leaning over to get a pen and post-it. "If you don't lose this one like your subway ticket."

"Yeah, I guess you're not." Peter chuckles and brings himself up to his feet with a sigh. Good one, Parker.

"I don't want to give you any false impressions." Illyana says as she hands over the paper with Piotr's number on it, along with his name. In case he forgets. She's sure that Piotr will try to interrogate her later but.. It'll be fun to think about Peter explaining. Because she's not going to breathe a *word*.

Peter chuckles and takes the card, "Well, if you could give me some fact impressions, I'd be okay with that too. Thanks, Illyana. And thanks for dinner." He smiles at her and begins heading for the door.

"Be careful out there, Peter." And she doesn't sound teasing or mocking that time. The blonde watches him with those almost-eerie-at-times blue eyes as he leaves.

Community content is available under CC-BY-SA unless otherwise noted.