945/House Calls Are Not Cheap

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
House Calls Are Not Cheap
Date of Scene: 02 April 2020
Location: Study Hall
Synopsis: Strange comes by Xaviers to ask some questions. Leaves a gift.
Cast of Characters: Stephen Strange, Illyana Rasputina, Rogue

Stephen Strange has posed:
    Study Hall in Xavier's, what a very happening place, so happening in fact, that in the middle of the room, papers start to whip about and books start to fly open and pages turn rapidly. A hole in the room grows from nothingness into something about eight feet in diameter and through it is visible a rather stuffy looking museum, yet a man in a blue tunic with black slacks and heavy boots steps throught without the famous cloak on his shoulders. "Illyana?" The man requests as he steps through into the hall, turning his head in the direction of a random student. "She is not here, is she?" The man with grey hair at his temple asks calmly.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
No, as it happens, Illyana Rasputina is not in. Not that she's *in* the study hall, where even her teammates are unlikely to find her unless dragged kicking and screaming from the battlefield to sit a test she really doesn't need. Neither is she outside drowning demonic insects in the lake, or hiding in the kitchen with a beloved cup of coffee. The best bet, in fact, for finding the Demon Queen of Limbo is to look, as one might surmise, in Limbo. Knocking first, naturally.

Though failing that, Rogue has probably seen her trotting into the Danger Room about an hour ago and given the general pattern of cycled programming in there, assuming she is /still/ in there an hour later means she's either unconscious or actually portaled out somewhere real, and chose not to return. Mayyyybe. Maybe not. Of course, cellular phones are magical things too.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue was asked to clean up the study hall after a large group of kids had been in here all afternoon. Reluctantly, she agreed to do it. So here she is, stacking books, sorting papers and getting it all beautiful and gorgeous... when it all goes to Hell.

So to speak.

The papers start flying around, the books get pushed off of their stacks and turn into piles and even a few chairs fall over. When Strange calls out for Illyana, what he finds is just Rogue standing there in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips and her two-toned hair a bit wild around her shoulders now from the chaos he'd summoned.

"Ain't no Illyana's here, Dumbledore." She says in a rather agitated tone of voice. Her green eyes scan around the room in ruins and she drops a heavy sigh. "You gonna wiggle your nose and pick all'a this up now?" She has to ask, as she crouches down to start the process of picking stuff up again.

Rogue is well aware of where she'd last seen Illyana, but it was down in the X-Men base, which does not seem to be the place for this intruder.

"Who the hell are you anyhow?" She asks in her southern flavored words while gathering up an arm-load of books. She'd seen him on Genosha briefly, but that memory is a bit behind shady walls at the moment.

Stephen Strange has posed:
    "Maybe if you keep making arbitrary pop culture references to me being a wizard it'll happen on its own." Stephen says as he looks down to the books he tossed about and bends over to pick one up. "Ghandi... Cute." He says turning it over in his hand before setting it on the table it fell from and looking back towards Rogue and squinting his eyes in her direction.

    "I'm Doctor Strange, and thank you, I noticed the lack of Illyana on my own, not sure why I ended up here when it was supposed to be based on location of the desired individual." Stephen hmphs turning arond to look at the portal and with it still open he pauses to brush at his goatee with his gloved hand. "Curious."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Somewhere nearby, the blonde sorceress may be well aware of a disruption. Her mystical senses tend to hold a sharpened feature among the many other members of the school. Very few to almost none possess any arcane prowess in conjunction with their talents; those who do burn like small lamps in the dark, and a meteorite coming to spell the end of the dinosaurs just landed. She halts in sharpening her katana with a whetstone, the map of M-Town on her phone glowing all the while.

A brief look aside provides an exceptional opportunity for her to stop and really give the map a once-over. She might have reason to pause considering the Chicxulub Crater is current burning up the metaphysical landscape of the school, probably unbeknownst to most, and certainly not to her. But wizards and sorcerers are choosy people, prone to following their own course in life that involves multiple takes on breakfast. Usually several helpings at odd hours, involving odd behaviours that are downright idiosyncratic. It just goes to show, magic drives them frankly mad.

Fine, well, she gracefully appoints herself the guardian of the blade that will prove absolutely useless in contending with this matter. It slides back into the fissures of space around her, ready to be drawn forth at the appropriate time. Whenever that is. And for her next trick, she might as well just step through a portal and bounce to the nearest source of the anomaly burning a seething wave through her senses.

A girl ought to freshen up too, so whilst in the process, she stalks through the hallways with her garments shifting midway: there goes the black armour, a swirl of midnight violet coalescing into a crop top t-shirt announcing the benevolence of AC/DC. Jeans take the place of her leggings, an ankh swinging from her neck. And with her comes that other gift, a box containing the sticky sweet scent of pecans attached to a still warm pie swiped from a countertop in exchange for a stack of bills and coins.

This, eventually, will be how she finds them, playing Pie Delivery Pixie Dreamgirl. "Sugar," she deadpans ultimately in her Russian voice, the disaster of papers and disorderly content considered with cool Arctic-blue eyes. "Brought you a present."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue, with an arm full, stands up again and puts them on the table beside her to sort through them later. She listens to the Doctor's response and her eyes glance over at him while he strokes at his face hair. She figures that he ended up here cause Illyana is likely beneath their feet many meters in the X-Men base. But she's not going to tell /him/ that.

"I'll message her, tell her that she's got a gentleman caller." Rogue says in a sassy sort've way. Her eyes glance the Doctor over while he's looking the other way, but then she looks back over to her new stack of crap to re-sort while her right gloved hand pulls her phone out of her right hip pocket.

"Ya know, this is a private school? The faculty find ya sneakin' in like this and they're gonna be pissed at your cape wearin' ass." The Belle has her phone in her hands now and she's tapping away at the screen. She doesn't know if Illyana has a cell phone on her or not but she's got a number in the school directory so there's a message being sent.

Of course, Rogue also has her back to the doorway across the room, so when the Demon Queen appears within it, Rogue doesn't immediately see her. "There. I told--" She turns then to look toward the doorway.

Stephen Strange has posed:
    "I'm not wearing any cape..." Stephen says matter of factly to Rogue while he continues to look at his spell and taking in a deep breath to recenter himself, he then moves his hands outwards and then claps loudly.

    The spell ends with a WHUMPF! and the papers and books near the collapsing vortex all explode outwards in a puff of stationairy and papyrus. He looks over his shoulder in the vague direction of Illyana, ignoring Rogue's comments about the teachers not liking him. "You didn't send her a message. I did." The wizard notes to Rogue with a smug kind of a smile hinting at his face before he turns towards the blonde woman.

    "Who's your taller friend?" He asks, thumbing his yellow leather gloves in Rogue's direction. "She's quite helpful and kind." He says sounding awfully sincere.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
There's a way that Illyana walks that eats up the ground and marks her ownership of that spot. Her completely efficient manner of movement is indicative of a predatory gait, no excess tolerated. Let flourishes be saved for the fops with the need to prove something. Better to slink like a clouded leopard through the world, putting her feet down just so to muffle their beats against the ground. Contact with those thick, contoured soles rolls her off to the next pace, eating up the ground, making distance a matter of no consequence whatsoever.

Magic whumps around them, tossing the books back into their places and organizing paper in tidy columns. It's rather like watching a Jenga tower fall in reverse, if she had any idea whatsoever of what Jenga actually was. Blocks in reverse slot into their spots. Whether the stationary goes exactly where it should or the layered laptops and tablets stuck on a shelf are completely out of order is probably beyond her at a casual glance. Nothing interrupts her pie, though. The box /may/ try to get away from her. It won't have a choice in staying, her nails digging in to dent the box with delicate half-moon crescents. And this is mine, proclaims the gesture.

She aims to slant herself across the doorway to the study hall, sinuously poured out like all the sins of the world in a most decadent manner of appeal. Hairpin curves in matte black and saturated tears of ichorous delight put her exactly where she means to be, blocking the way out. Not that it matters at all where a sorcerer supreme is involved. Her ankh pendant swings back and forth, left to right, a pendulum arc. "Thief of hearts." Closest answer Strange is going to get, even as she balances the pie box on her hip. It's there for Rogue to take when she likes, and it's a homemade creation or near enough to count. Deep southern cooking at its finest, tacky and sweetly made. Presents? Likely. Does Illyana even know how to cook?

"Her Majesty is in. And?"

Rogue has posed:
With the gift from Illyana registering, Rogue has a grin slide across her lips as she steps toward the doorway that is being blocked off by the lovely Demon Queen of Limbo. Buuuut, Strange's spell causes the Belle to take a step back and her eyes to look around at what he'd just done. She tilts her head at him and smirks. "Cute." She tells the older man. "You're a real Charmer, ain't ya?"

Her gaze sweeps back over to Illy then and she steps toward her. "You got a pie for lil' ol' me?" She asks with a sassy sweet pitch to her voice's tone. "Illy, you're butterin' me up for somethin', and I ain't complainin' a bit about it none."

Rogue's gloved hands come up to accept the present from the vivacious blonde. She glances from her, to Strange. "You know this Joker?" She asks in a dryer--less affectionate tone. "He ain't trouble is he? He doesn't seem t'care about boundaries a whole lot."

Stephen Strange has posed:
    Stephen stands there, watching Illyana with her pie, and Rogue with her... reaching empty hands. "I'm not a joker, nor am I a begger." Stephen says, with a jesture of his forehead towards Rogue's hands, wanting that pie. "I am also not someone you should worry about, your Professor.. This is Xavier's place, is it not?"

    Stephen continues anyways and turns his attention towards Illyana and takes in a breath. "Are you aware of what Zatanna did with some artifacts most recently?" Strange asks, fishing for some answers he hasn't been able to receive from anyone else lately, so he figured he'd ask Illy before going to the source. At least for now. Zatanna seems to have a sort of intimidation factor for Strange for some reason. Maybe it's that he worries what Clea might think if he associates with such a dressed woman.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The candied pecans rest on a buttery crust and heat radiates from the box, though the cardboard manages to entrap most of it. A thick foil pan withstands the weight of the filling, crust, and a topping of happiness. Fingers steepled under it hold up the pie until Rogue claims her prize, putting her within arm's reach -- and therefore sword's reach -- of Illyana if it ever came down to that. For all one knows, Doctor Strange could be simply /pretending/ to be Doctor Strange, wearing a face other than something purple with forty-seven eyes sizing up dinner.

"City bureaucrat," she explains in that laconic way, giving Strange a job in the NYC government. "Doctor Strange. Actual doctor, sometimes." Just like she's a teenager sometimes. The wisps of her blunt golden bangs curl around her temples, giving absolutely no indication if she suppresses the smirk or smile with any difficulty. Let that be up to those who know her best ot determine it. She doesn't namedrop Charles or indicate she is aware of the consultancy performed by him, but she tips her head to the question all the same.

"Not all of them. Heard you had a delivery." The way Illyana peels herself off the doorway is telling, giving Rogue or Strange reason to walk past if they want, but also just as probable that she might go trotting off to perform that mystical quest (....to the isle of Tortuga, golden locks sway on the ocean breeeeze~! o/`) at any moment. "Not the rest. What had you heard?"

Rogue has posed:
The pie box in hand, Rogue lifts it and opens it to peer inside. the scent of it that comes out fills her senses and she smiles all big and bright at the reaction it arouses in her. Her eyes go from Illyana-- who gets a big smile-- to Strange who gets a small glare. "Xavier's School for /gifted/ Youngsters." She tells the Wizard. "And you're addressin' two'a the most gifted here." She gives another big smile to Illy before she turns and takes the pie box over toward the table where she sets it down and moves to get her backpack off of the chair she'd slung it over the back of. A second later and Rogue is brandishing a knife. A silver bladed big ol' knife, that she takes over to the pie box--and after removing her gloves-- she slices out herself a piece and raises it up on the blade of that Crocadile Dundee-style blade.

Once the pie is tasted, Rogeu turns and leans her butt back against the table. She audibly "Mmmmms." at the mouth sensation of it all. "Who's Zatanna?" She then asks with the partially full mouth, obscuring and muffling up her words there a little bit!

Stephen Strange has posed:
    "City Bureaucrat..." Stephen says, crossing his arms before his broad chest and frowning towards Illyana, "I walk through a gateway collapsing the finite time space continuum to move from Greenwich to Westchester and you claim I'm a bureaucrat..." Stephen shakes his head towards Illyana and then refuses the pie before looking towards Rogue. "I'm an actual doctor and a wizard." He says rather matter of factly.

    "Tortuga is wonderful this time of year, but I do need that information on Zatanna if- Ah. I had heard she used a rather dangerous artifact recently and I have yet to discuss with her about it." Strange says with a frown towards Rogue and lifts an eyebrow. "The magician woman, wears tight fishnet stockings and a petticoat that shows off... She shows off. A lot." Strange sighs.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"The City is an entity," murmurs Illyana in an aside, as though this is purely unnecessary. Anyone with eyes can probably entertain that. "You are." That straightforward assessment might play in a debate for the fewest necessary words, and she has next to no reason to explain herself further, not with the situation at hand. "Ms. Zatara is a friend. She performs stage magic and had a television show." Not that she watches enough television to really know, but maybe Rogue does. The clarifications are given out easily over the matters of pie and, frankly, the brunette with the duotone hair has just as much right to be left in on matters due to the disorder. No shooing out the door here.

She'd miss seeing Rogue come back with a big old knife to sever pie pieces with, all said and done. Her gaze warms a degree watching the results of her acquisitions from some back-country town in Alabama or Georgia no doubt, where one actually gets proper pecans baked into a pie.

"You stay. I ask. You want to know what I know. Da? Simple enough."

Rogue has posed:
While the two of them talk, Rogue floats up off of the ground and sits down cross legged on top of the polished wood table. She keeps one hand underneath the knife to catch crumbs while the other holds said knife up so she can take bites from the slice she'd cut herself. "Sounds funf." She says to both of the summation of 'who is Zatanna'. "I'd like to meetf fher." She adds with a little laugh before reaching over to her backpack to pull out a small napkin she'd had in there since she'd been in Salem Center earlier in the week and had lunch with Jubilee at her place of work.

"Ya'll can exchange information in here with me. You want some pie, Doctor?" She asks Strange, holding out the half eaten slice on the otherwise shiny knife blade that has been smudged by the pie's delicious ingredients. "I got a buncha knifes in here." She states, motioning toward her backpack with an elbow. Why she has a 'bunch of knives' is anyone's guess.

"Isn't Tortuga where Captain Jack Sparrow hid all of his treasure?" She then moves on and ask the next question as she draws the knife back and takes another indulgence of pecan pie with lips and tongue to usher the delicious treat into her mouth while her green eyes go from Illy and Strange down to what she's doing, not that she's afraid of cutting herself, because she's definitely not.

Stephen Strange has posed:
    Stephen wasn't going to leave until he heard what Illy knew so he's moved to sit down similar in fashion to Rogue, only without the flying aspect. He sits on a table but keeps his legs out and down but crosses them at the ankle.

    Stephen looks to the pie and then to Rogue, then Illy, and finally Rogue again, his grey eyes lingering briefly on the southern teen. "No. I can't." He says and then pats his stomach. "Doesn't sit well with me." He lies, but turns his attention back to Illy quickly to contiue the questions, "I'm not going anywhere yet, so you seriously haven't heard rumors or whispers about Zatanna's movements?" Then back to Rogue, "Jack Sparrow isn't real, nor is his treasure."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
No pirate treasure to be found? There's almost a fomenting plan behind those eyes, and Illyana wisely bides her time and keeps her tongue flat to her teeth. Nothing like starting a mutant party on a desert island, okay? Because it's totally going to happen and they have exactly what they need right here to do it. "We could use some sun," she innocently states, as though three fifths of her soul aren't missing and present to open a gateway to the elder evil horrors of the universe. Mind, this is a girl who has no issues with watching Rogue eat pie and maybe help herself to the smallest of slivers. Very small. A smidge.

She still stands. "I see Zatanna now and then. Nothing immediate comes to mind. But what do you think she has?" A line of questioning for Strange to follow up on. Let him tell the tale, while she breaks off a morsel of crust and nibbles on it with precise, opportune measures. Pieeeee.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue's eyes go up to Stephen's own when he indicates that he can't handle pie without getting a stomach ache. She reacts to that by allowing a softening of her expression toward him, a bit of sympathy for the plight of which he just explained. "Awww." Comes her initial response before she tacks on a little extra. "Ya know, my Aunt used t'have the saaaame problem. She'd bake up a couple'a pies just like this and then swear she wasn't gonna indulge in either one've. But low'n'behold she could resist. Then the rest'a the night she'd just bitch'n moan about how messed up her stomach was feelin'. Least, until she started drinkin' tea with honey in it?" This gets a nod from Rogue, to Stephen. Decisively she says. "You should try that. Bet it'd fix ya right up, Sugah."

Maybe she's warming up to him, after that initial reaction that had ruined all of her cleaning in here.

Her gaze goes to Illyana then. "You run around with some interesting types, Yana." She tells her, showing a sweet and soft grin. "I can't imagine what kinda trouble you find yourself in, but it's fun t'try."

Stephen Strange has posed:
    "She did help exorcise a demon the other day. She's more than interesting." Stephen says, not one to hide things like that. That is what they do as wizards, witches and sorcerers, sorceresses.

    "I'm not sure what she has persay, I just get an idea the Vishanti themselves are not pleased with the actions she might have made recently." Stephen says with a shrug of his shoulders before looking to the pie and taking a smell of the air. "I'm not sure I can even smell that without getting..." HURK! He turns his head and closes his eyes. "But I do know if the Vishanti are acting, it's most serious."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue finishes off that slice of pie she had on her big silver buck knife. She then uses the napkin to wipe the blade off before reaching into her backpack of mystery and pulling out a wet wipe to really clean it up. With it shining again she slides it back into it's leather sheath. "Who the hell is Vishanti?" She asks then as she looks up and sees that Illyana has vanished. "Where the hell did she go?" She then asks before putting her eyes back on to Doctor Strange.

"You magic types." She states then with a slow shake of her head and a little smirk. "Ya'll are impossible t'keep up with. The fact that you can't even enjoy a god dang Pecan Pie just shows how much I don't want anything t'do with your life." She then pauses. "Beg my pardon though, I'm a lady... and that's rude. I'm sure your life is utterly splendid. Down right enjoyable t'be sure. But... still. Ya need pie in your life, Doc."

She smiles brightly at him. "If ya ever need help punchin' demons let me know though. Cause ya may not'a heard'a me? But I'm a pretty big deal. I tussled with Captain Marvel and won the fight, ya know? I can handle Demons better than just about anyone out there."

Stephen Strange has posed:
    "I wouldn't go around bragging about that to people you just met, but ... that's impressive." Strange says with a nod towards Rogue before he squints his eyes. "I might just keep that in-... How old are you?" He asks, just to make sure he's not going to be summoning a minor for demon punching. Just in case.

    "And lastly, you did explain it yourself miss Big Deal. Magic. Impossible to keep up because it's literal magic." Strange explains with a playful wink before he pushes up off the table and looks to Rogue with a side glance. "I'm sure you could handle demons, but I'm not sure you'd want to."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue just smiles up at Strange and shakes her head at his first comment. "I'm not braggin/ about it! I'm just usin' it as a measurin' stick so you know what I'm capable'a. I idolize Carol Danvers. I got her stock up here inside'a my head cause'a what I did to her." She motions toward her head with the sheathed buck knife. Her eyes go up to Strange's. "When I touch someone..." She starts talking all dramatically and sultry. "Skin on skin? I stuck the life right outta them! I pull their powers out, I pull their soul out... Doc. Everythin' they got goes inside'a me and they drop on the ground like a sack'a potatos."

She shows a soft grin then to the Sorcerer Supreme. "I'm legal." Is that flirtatious? Of course it is. She's Trouble. Her hands go down to the table and she lets her feet drop down to swing gently forward and back. "Turned eighteen in January. Headin' toward twenty one and then I'll taste beer for the /first time/." She smiles sweetly, obviously lying.

Stephen Strange has posed:
    "Not what I was asking about Big Deal, but still a suitable answer." Stephen says making mental notes about the sultry girl Illyana knows and lives with sometimes. "Anything else you think is important for me to know, a complete stranger?" The wizard asks with a coy sort of look to his eyes before he motions with his hands into the empty air and a whole new, much less explosive portal opens up in the middle of the room and he looks back to Rogue waiting. The museum peeked through the hole in reality and it seems still quite packed and uncomfortable and stuffy. "Other than how you're excited for alcohol for the first time. Legally." Strange teases.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue is just all grins at the older man. At his question she shakes her head, her feet keep swinging in those combat boots she's wearing with mismatched laces of green on left and yellow on right. "I like strangers t'know as much about me as possible. It lets them have the most educated guess on whether they think they're brave enough t'mess with me or not." She replies to him before she reaches to her backpack and slings it over her shoulder. She's not gonna clean this room up again anymore than she already has. Someone else can do it, she's got places to be!

As she drops down off of the table she pulls her raspberry beret out of her backpack's side pocket and goes to put it on top of her head. "I can't keep convincin' the local law enforcement t'let me keep the beer, now can I? As much as they're fun t'tease." She may or may not joking, she's probably joking. Maybe.

"Good luck out there, Doctor. I hope ya find that Zatanna person. Sounds like ya'll have a lotta fun ahead've ya."

Stephen Strange has posed:
    "Speaking of messing..." Strange gives a smirk before he tilts his head towards Rogue and without much of a visible sign he does a bit of magic towards Rogue. "I think a bit of color might be nice for a change. Come see me when you're bored of green and yellow." He smirks, and the white hair turns shades of green and yellow, to match Rogue's colors of her clothes. Without a word then Strange steps through the portal, but it doesn't close just yet.