@doug1ock: 'he's dreaming of home.' previous.
illyana tuned out some few seconds into doug's animated dump of information -- a skill she'd learnt to switch on and off whenever he got himself worked up. she knew, at some point, he'd make his point. whatever was said in between was typically of little importance to her; the only response granted throughout his rambling being an absent, half - hearted 'mhm... yeah... so cool.' the initial perk of her posture slumps once more as she waits, and waits, and waits -- features only growing more bored with every word spewed. something about riddles and languages and other things she didn't need to know about.
though, in usual fashion for a girl raised by brutality, flat features brighten up within seconds at the mention of a battlefield. now that the demon queen can get behind. so much so that she opts to allow the hand that slaps onto her shoulder in lieu of expressing her annoyance. " why didn't you just start with that, idiot! " eyes roll, and her fingers twitch with the urge to slap him upside the head for making her think their escape was going to be some kind of riddle solving hoo-ha that was going to require the next ten years of their lives to solve. though it doesn't last long; the grin that splits her lips ripe with anticipation, her own enthusiasm piquing to match doug's own.
mouth opens again, a declaration of their assured victory at her hands dying on her tongue at the haze that blankets doug's expression. a familiar one that illyana knew the outcome of all too well. " jeez doug... " despite apparent exasperation in her heavy exhale, both arms raise until hands are grasping his biceps, grip tight enough to ensure he wouldn't drop like a sack of potatoes should the excitement get too much. she doesn't bother with the papers that fall to the floor when his grip loosens on them, allowing them to scatter in a collage of foreign scribbles she could never hope, nor care, to understand. her own long - standing appreciation and fondness for her teammate comes in the form of uncharacteristic patience -- allowing him a few seconds wrapped in his momentary nerdy bliss before she shakes him harshly.
" alright alright, that's enough of that. in case you hadn't noticed, there's nothing in this place for me to fight. " her question is left unsaid, but the raise of her brow as she gives him one last reassuring squeeze leaves her train of thought obvious. 'so what am i meant to fight?'