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You're a Good Man, Peter Parker
Rplog-icon Who: Illyana and Peter Parker
Where: Queens, New York City
When: July 29, 2012
Tone: Angsty
What: Illyana comes by to say thank you to Peter and see if he wants to come to a concert with her. When it things like things might get serious, Illyana pulls the plug.



So it's been a few days since that weird-ass night where Peter had to go and save Illyana from... being exorcised? Total weirdness. Illyana needed that time to recover from having her magical fuses blown but she's feeling much better now! Dressed in black leather pants and worn shirt, a thin chain around her hips that fails to serve as a belt and a white box in hand, she comes a knock knock knockin' on Peter's door.

For a moment there's nothing and then a hop and a loud thump and then another hop...and a loud thump. Thump Thump Thump, and Peter's opening the door. "Hey..." he says with a smile as the door creaks open. "What's this? Come in, come in. Aunt May? We have company."

"I come bearing cake." Illyana says, lifting the bakery box a bit. She steps in after he's invited her (maybe she's part vampire??) and then quirks a brow at him as he calls for his Aunt May. She's probably not the sort that any parental figure wants their kid bringing home, as a friend or anything else. All the spikes and chains and skulls and black leather just seems to scream 'delinquent!' "I hope you like chocolate?"

"Love it." Peter tries to steal a kiss toward her cheek and then exclaims, "Come on." He pulls Illyana by the hand and around the corner, "Aunt May, this is Illyana. She's that friend I told you about."

Aunt May, who was seated at the table but is getting up to greet Illyana seems very joyful. "Illyana, it's nice to finally meet you. And you brought cake? How very kind. I can slice it for you if you would like. Come, have a seat."

Illyana closes one eye as Peter leans in for the kiss, but doesn't pull away. There does seem to be a bit of an awkward air as she just stands there for it though. The cake is shifted to one hand so he can take the other, pulling her towards the kitchen and the smile she gives Aunt May is small, but it's not that habitual smirk of hers. "Hello ma'am." She surrenders the box over to the older woman. "Peter helped me out so I wanted to say thank you."

Aunt May nods, "Yes, of course. Peter does that sort of thing. He is a very nice young man. Do you like milk?" And she's away, bringing the cake into the kitchen and leaving the two of them alone. Peter, meanwhile, plops in his chair and smiles up at her. "I love chocolate. You shouldn't have."

Illyana takes a seat in a manner a bit less... sloppily, one leg crossing over the other. "If I should have, it wouldn't have been a 'thank you', would it? The question was a bit rhetorical. Who doesn't like chocolate?" She slants him a smirk and then reaches into her pocket and holds her hand out towards him, the ring on its chain dangling from her fingers. "You forgot something."

Peter looks at the ring a long time before taking in his hands. "I don't think I could forget it. It's burned into my skin." He chuckles a bit and puts it in his pocket. The wound is just now finishing healing, but will still sting with the irritation. "Are you feeling better?"

Illyana grimaces some at that. "Sorry. The cage they had... really didn't like me." Now there's an understatement. She nods at his question. "Yeah. Just overloaded my circuits. I think I went home and slept for like twenty four hours straight."

"Well you look good," Peter says making a goofy face. Just then May comes in and offers plates with large pieces of cake." She has a seat and looks to Illyana, "Peter tells me you're a college student. But he failed to tell me where at."

Illyana smirks at Peter's compliment. Mocking him or just amused? It's hard to tell. She thanks May as the woman returns with cake. "NYU. I'm taking a history course over the summer and then start my Freshman year in a few weeks." OK, so she took a few years off after graduating from High School before deciding University was as good a step in the direction of 'I have no idea where' as anything else.

"Well that's wonderful, dear. NYU is, of course, a fantastic school. But I'm sure you know that already. It's one of the ones Peter is considering as well, isn't that right Peter?" Peter nods, "That's right Aunt May." "Peter says you went to a private school out of the city," Aunt May seems to know everything. Someone gabs a lot...Or was gushing.

Illyana arches a brow over at Peter, smirking again. "Yeah, Xavier's up in Westchester. My brother teaches there and he's been my guardian so we got a tuition break and my brother could keep an eye on me." She looks over at Peter then. "What other schools are you considering anyhow?"

Peter thinks with his eyes looking up at the ceiling. "M.I.T. would be a dream. Ann Arbor has a wonderful mechanical engineering program. Columbia and NYU." He shrugs, "As of right now anyways."

"Columbia and NYU have the perk of being close." Illyana says, taking a bite of her cake. "Westchester's still pretty close, so I get to see Piotr fairly often."

"Yes," May says as she looks at Peter. "Listen to the girl, boy. Staying close to home is the best answer." May turns to her, "I like you already, dear."

Peter chuckles, "Yeah, I have a lot of responsibilities around here." More than either of them know. "MIT has always been a dream, but Columbia and NYU are second and third."

Illyana lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "If you have the dream, you should chase it. But I don't think MIT itself is the dream here. It's more the stepping stone."

Peter matches her shrug, "It's a long way away anyhow. If things go well at OsCorp, I might have to stick close to the city." He smiles at her and digs at the cake. "Don't worry, ladies, you'll both get my email address if I have to move."

Illyana gives a chuckle and shakes her head. "I'm a terrible pen pal. ePal. Eh, whatever it is. So what is it that you want to *do*, Peter?" Illyana asks, looking at him across the table.

"Finish this cake without making my aunt or the girl I'm trying to date angry?" Peter gives a fake and totally over exaggerated smile.

"Oh Peter, stop it," May says as she slaps at his wrist. "You know that wherever you go will be your choice."

Illyana gives a small roll of her eyes at the dreaded D word. "So I was going to see about a concert in the park tonight. Figured while I was here saying 'thank you' with sugary goodness I'd see if you were free." See how she didn't *actually* ask him to go?

"What a coincidence," Peter says in between mouthfuls. "I'm free." He looks to May, "See? It works. Uncle Ben taught me just to shut up."

"Oh Peter," May just shakes her head and chuckles.

Illyana peers between the pair of them. "I get the feeling like maybe I shouldn't ask." She says dryly.

Peter chuckles, "Shouldn't ask how I just got you to ask me out, or shouldn't ask about something else? Or shouldn't actually ask me out? Because I can see how it's awkward in front of my Aunt, but she doesn't care. Really."

Illyana opens her mouth to start to say something, and then seems to think better of it and just shakes her head instead. "*I'm* going to the concert in the park. If you happen to show up, that'd be cool." You know who has even less experience dating than Peter? Yep. That's right.

"Do you have an extra ticket?" Peter asks hopefully. "Are tickets still available if you don't?"

"Don't worry, I'll get you in." Illyana says with a chuckle. She can get into just about anything she wants to, one way or another.

"She'll get me in, Aunt May." Peter says it as if he's relaying the information. "See? Figeddaboudit. What's to worry." To Illyana: "Guess I'm running out of reasons to say no."

"I could just tell you you're coming if that would make this easier." Illyana says, licking the chocolate frosting from her fork idly.

"Okay," Peter says. "I take that as a you're coming." Peter chuckles, "Who are we going to see?"

"You know, most people would have asked that question *first*." Illyana points out with dry amusement. "It's a whole list of bands, a lot of them local talent. Mostly your various flavors of rock."

"Well, it wouldn't be us if I didn't mess with you first, right?" Peter fake slumps, "It's not just thrash metal? She made me scratch of the nail polish." Peter headnods to May as he stands and grabs plates. "Peter, I..." May reddens.

Illyana chuckles, reaching over to pat May's arm lightly. With her black-polished nails. "It's alright ma'am. Next time I'll send him home with nail polish remover. It's a lot easier."

"Thank you, dear," May says with an embarrassed smile. Peter's gone and back in, "So, we heading out soon? Or is this later?"

"Now's good." Illyana says, standing. Then she looks up and down. "You going like that?"

"What's wrong with what I look?" Peter looks aghast, turning to his Aunt. "What's wro--"

"Nothing dear, you look fantastic."

"Is this not cool enough for you, Illyana? Will I embarrass you li--"

"Peter that's not what she said."

"What should I wear?" he asks with a grin.

Illyana watches the back-and-forth with a slight smile and a shake of her head and walks over to Peter, turning him away from her and resting her hands on his shoulders to push him ahead of her. "Let's go look at your closet, huh?" Looks like she's going to pick his clothes out for him!

"Oy...Okay. Guess we're gonna look at the closet, Aunt May." "Do--" she's about to say door open until she remembers he's an adult now. She frets about these sorts of things. Peter heads upstairs towards the closet.

Once they get into his room, Illyana opens the closet and starts to go through whatever he's got in there. Things is black and red get the most attention. Flip. Flip. Flip. She pulls out a black T that's fairly plain, eyes it critically and then tosses it on the bed. "Your aunt seems nice."

"Seems and is," Peter says as he eyes the shirt. Off comes the one he's wearing, showing the burn mark below his neck. It was bad, but must not have been all that bad. He's damn near healed already. He reaches for the new shirt.

Illyana glances over as he shucks the other shirt, and pauses as she sees the burn. The room is fairly small so it only takes a step or two for her to be close enough to get a good look at it. She brings one hand up, fingertips ghosting around the burn itself. She's quiet, her blue eyes seeming to catch the shadows, falling into midnight.

Peter laughs a bit and arches his shoulder as if he's a 6 year old having his mommy check his ouchie. "It's nothing. It's fine."

Illyana glances up at him as he shrugs it off with smiles and laughter. Her hand falls back down to her side, her nails rasping over his skin lightly until she takes a step away. "Sometimes I wonder if you're real." She says, shaking her head as she turns back to his closet.

"What do you mean?" Peter says as he shrugs into the black t-shirt. He stretches a bit leaning to the side with his gangly arms coming together over his head. It ends in a sigh. "I think I'm real." Pause. "Is this an existential question?"

Illyana shakes her head. "No." She skips looking through his jeans. Apparently the ones he has pass inspection. "Where are your belts?" She asks, not looking back at him. "You're too nice." She says, finally answering his question. "I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Well, when it does..." Peter says with a groan as he reaches his long arms around her side and opens a drawer in his closet filled with a few assorted belts. "I'm sure you'll not see it coming."

Illyana holds still as he reaches around her, waiting until he's out of the way to rifle through his things until she finds one that she likes and hands it to him. She frowns thoughtfully at him and gives a slight shake of her head. "Do you have hair gel or something?"

"We don't touch the hair. Sorry." Peter smiles at her as he begins to loop the belt through, facing her.

Illyana reaches out, hooking a finger through one of his belt loops as his hands are busy to drag him towards her. "I can paint your nails and put eyeliner on you but I can't touch your hair?" She sounds amused as she smirks up at him. "You look too neat. Too wholesome."

"I like the way I look. It was good enough for you to grab me by the belt loop, wasn't it? Peter asks, tilting his head. "I like my hair."

Illyana's finger lingers there, hooked in that single loop. She has to look up at them now because they're standing very close. "I grabbed you because I wanted to muss you up." She answers, her voice a soft murmur.

"I don't think so," Peter says as he looks down at her and nearly giggles. "If you disliked how I look as much as you presume, I don't think you'd be up here right now."

"I didn't say I disliked it. I said I wanted to muss you up." Illyana says, but his near-giggles have her stepping back with a shake of her head. "We should go." She says, the shift abrupt.

"We have time." Peter says as he loops a finger in her belt loop this time, preventing her from running too much further.

"For what?" Illyana says lightly, looking back at him but not pulling away from that small hold. "You don't want me to touch your hair so it looks like we're done, right?" Her eyes seem empty of emotion, even as she sounds like she's teasing him.

Peter doesn't even bother quipping. Instead, he simply tries to plant one on her promptly.

Illyana's body turns towards his as he closes that so-small distance, head tilting back as her eyes stay on his and so he gets to see them widen slightly in surprise as he leans in and kisses her. He can feel her go tense and when his lips touch hers there's no response on her side, unless you count her hands closing over his biceps and the prick of her nails from their tight grip.

Peter pulls away almost as fast as he went in and goes back to fastening his belt. "Do you have a favorite band that's playing?"

Illyana is left standing there looking a bit shocked and even confused. Peter's question seems to fall on deaf ears as she just blinks at him, her hands still up though now they're holding onto nothing. Finally one hand moves, touching her lips lightly and then she blinks. Her gaze seems to focus on Peter and she takes a step back. "I.. I should go." It's probably the first time he's heard her sound... uncertain.

"You're leaving?" Peter looks confused, "Wait...what about the concert?"

"This is a bad idea." Illyana says, shaking her head. "You should stay away. It's safer." She turns leave.

"I can take care of myself, Illyana," Peter says, hoping he can stall her with his words.

Illyana lays one hand against his door, and she doesn't look back at him this time, just shakes her head in that spill of long blonde hair. "You can't keep yourself safe from me, Peter."

"If that's true, you wouldn't keep coming back. You wouldn't be here right now," Peter says defiantly.

Illyana turns her head enough for him to see those blue eyes flash in anger. "You're not keeping yourself safe. You think I'm Ok to be around. I'm *not*. You're a good guy, Peter. Stay that way."

"And if I wasn't a good guy, then I could be around you?" Peter asks. "That doesn't make sense."

Illyana turns back towards Peter then, steps closing what little distance there is. "You know why it makes sense, Peter. You heard. You saw." Her eyes go from that icy blue to lambent white, the glow washing out any iris or pupil. "You know." She repeats, her words soft and rough.

"I do." Peter's words are simple. "And I'm still here. Now if you want to walk out, you're going to have to know that you quit on this. Not me."

That pricks her pride. Illyana doesn't like to quit things. Not things that she gives a damn about. What exactly is it she's quitting on? That... she's not entirely sure. "Then tell me why. Tell me *why* you'd want to be around me." She gives a half-laugh that holds no humor. "You're putting yourself at risk. You're putting that sweet little old woman at risk." Illyana says, pointing towards the door.

Peter opens his mouth at the first question, but closes it at the second. He can argue with putting himself at risk. Aunt May? That's another story. He simply doesn't respond.

Illyana nods slowly as he closes his mouth. "See?" She manages a faint, sad smile. "I'm sorry." She lays one hand over his chest. Over that quickly-fading burn and goes up on her toes to brush her lips against his cheek. "I know better." But sometimes she just can't help herself. The lure of having friends...

As her lips touch his cheek, Peter exhales in a sigh. He doesn't want her to go, but knows he can't say anything to make her stay.

"Sacrifices." Illyana says finally, stepping away. She draws a deep breath and then lets it go in a quiet sigh. "I'll let myself out." She says quietly and turns to go.

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