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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
W O N D E R G I R L


K A M A L A K H A N H I G H S C H O O L E R J E R S E Y C I T Y I N D E P E N D E N T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:


"Witty Quote"

This is where you outline your vision for the character including any notable changes or differences from the regularly accepted canon. This should be a short summary that provides insight into where the character is in terms of their overall progress and development.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go?

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:


♦ Bruno Carrelli
Kamala's best friend and the only person she's confided about her abilities.

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♦ Nakia Bahadir
One of Kamala's close friends. She belongs to the same mosque as Kamala and her family.

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♦ Yusuf Khan
Kamala's father.

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♦ Muneeba Khan
Kamala's mother.

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♦ Aamir Khan
Kamala's older brother.


S A M P L E P O S T:



P O S T C A T A L O G:

A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed arcs and stories.

Made a start on some compendium entries. Will finish the rest once i get a chance!



Didn't realize I was the 250th IC post. Everyone cool with me editing it out and replacing it with a dabbing Thanos?

Hoping to start work on my own compendium entries at one point this weekend, as well as giving out some rewards!

Despite the flames that roared outside the tower’s window, the stone floor of Illyana’s chamber was cold against her skin. She sat stiffly against a wall, her legs crossed with a battered old tome spread open atop them. She turned the pages carefully as her eyes poured over every rune on the page, taking it all in. Normally an eight-year-old girl like herself would spend her time running around in the open fields, enjoying her childhood. However, Illyana wasn’t a normal eight-year-old girl anymore. Now she was bound to Limbo. Daughter to Master.

Outside of her training with Master, Illyana rarely had any time for herself, and as such decided to make the most of it. Knowledge was power here. And power meant escape.

Sudden banging on her door shook Illyana out of her thoughts. She barely had enough time to hurry the book behind her back before the door was kicked open and a fiery presence filled the doorframe. A smirk spread across S’ym’s face as he stepped into the room, his snakelike eyes piercing Illyana like a pair of daggers as she scrambled to her feet. His hulking figure was flanked by his two brothers; Rath and Ghast, who were equally as terrifying with their horned heads and clawed fangs. The three demons surrounded the girl, who clung to the wall behind her as if her life depended on it. Because in her eyes, her life really did depend on it.

Boss wants you downstairs for dinner.” Rath growled, flashing his teeth as he circled around the side of the room.

We’s wouldn’t keep him waiting.” Ghast continued. He mirrored Rath’s movements as he did so.

Illyana stayed silent, her head pointed down towards the floor. She could feel the goosebumps rising across her arms. Moving at a snail's pace she nodded, before finally moving forwards towards the door, hoping to avoid any more of their torment. However, before she had even got halfway, she felt a scaly hand grab the back of his dress and fling her backward, back towards the wall.

What’s this you have here Poppet?

Her screams were meaningless as S’ym wrestled her against the wall, pinning her against it with her hand above her head. His spare hand reached down to the book, and he plucked it from her grasp. Her wails were merely met with laughter from the two brothers who quickly closed in on their prey.

Dropping Illyana as if she were a simple plaything, he turned his attention to the book in his hands and scanned the cover. His eyes widened in surprise slightly, however they soon returned to their regular shade of yellow, as he eyed where she lay crying on the ground.

Teleportation runes.” He clicked his tongue, before crouching down to get closer to her. “My, my. Someone’s been a naughty girlie.

She scrambled to get away from him as he grew closer, tears streaming down her face. He continued, leering towards her.

Please…” She managed, her eyes snapping shut reactively as he swiped his claws towards her.

Illyana’s eyes stayed glued to the decapitated body before her, her mind unable to take it in fully. She felt like she’d been stood there for hours, just staring silently. In time she finally raised her head back up to see her old captor’s. The Demon’s Three looked exactly how they had back in Limbo. Rath and Ghast continued to laugh and sneer. It’s what they always did. It was all they were good for. Just pawns to S’ym and his violence. It was as if she’d never left.

S’ym was speaking again. Mostly likely making some threat towards her. She just continued to shut it out, her shaking in fear. It was just like the tower before. Just like every other time they found her alone in Limbo. And just like before she felt herself go numb. She felt the oh so familiar feeling of goosebumps rising across her arms.

The trio stopped their laughter and began to advance. S’ym moved triumphantly, twirling the axe in his hands, the blade of which still dripping with cricket blood.

But before she found herself overwhelmed once more by their violence, another sound rang out around the old English pub. This one she heard.

Ragman leaped through the air, his green cloak billowing out behind him. He collided abruptly with S’ym midair, pushing him down to the ground. Acting quickly, Ragman wrapped his arms around the demon in an attempt to pin him down. His head shot upwards as he did so, locking eyes with Magik, whose look of fear had now merged into a look of confusion and surprise.

Get out of here!” He cried.

He was trying to sound brave. To sound as if he had all of this under control. But she could easily see that in this instance he was just as afraid as she was. Even the strength given to him by the souls in his suit didn’t seem to be enough, as S’ym struggled to his feet, overpowering the green-clad vigilante grappling him. Rath and Ghast had turned on him too now. He was a goner.

Temptation filled Illyana’s mind as she watched her friend wrestle her tormentor. She wanted to run. To escape from this place and return to the Sanctum Santorum where she’d be safe. To return to the farm. To Piotr. It would be so much easier.

She could go back to hiding. Go back to being a monster.

The word stung as it crossed her mind. Monster. It was a word she’d been using to describe herself her whole life. It was a word that just moments ago she was telling a talking cricket that she wasn’t. He was right. She wasn’t a monster. She had to be different. She had to be Magik.

No.

The word came of her mouth in a fury, as the young magician darted forward towards the demons. She pivoted to the left of the group, rearing up on Rath, who had turned in confusion at the sound of defiance. She swung her arms towards him, willing her Soul Staff into existence with a flash of light. The staff struck hard, clobbering the beast across the face, and knocking him back and through the bar. Wood and shrapnel ricocheted outwards as Rath broke through it, causing a shelf of alcohol to collapse and rain glass and booze all over him.

That was one.

In one swift move, she turned, now facing Ghast. Witnessing her attack on her brother, he snarled animalistically before pouncing forward like a wild dog. Her eyes whitened, and with a raise of her arms, an aurora of lights flashed in front of her blindingly. The fireworks erupted further once Ghast made contact, and as if shot from a cannon, was launched high into the air. Before finding himself hitting the ceiling, Magik had moved her arms once more, generating a stepping disc above him. He vanished as he hit it, his screams disappearing immediately.

That was two.

Now for the main event.

The fight being Ragman and S’ym wasn’t going as well. The demon swung wildly at the man clambering on his shoulders, and within seconds, his great red hand was wrapped tightly around the tip of Rory’s cape. He pulled angrily, ripping the hero from his body, before slamming him into the floor. A loud crack could be heard as Ragman hit the ground, the bones in his arm breaking. Without breaking a sweat, S’ym flexed his muscles slightly before raising his axe into the air, before bringing it down on the body before him.

Clangggg.

The axe blade struck against the obsidian staff, sending sparks flying as its momentum vanished. Illyana stood before him, holding her staff up as if it were a shield, protecting the body of her friend below her. She stood strong, a scowl across her face, her blond bangs now a mess. Her breath was heavy, however, this was out of anger rather than tiredness.

“Oh, this is more like it.” S’ym leered down towards Magik, licking his crimson lips. “This is the girlie S’ym remembers.”

Illyana simply roared and began her attack. She kicked forward, implanting her boot into his knee, buckling him slightly. She followed through with a swing from her staff, only to find it blocked by a thrust of his axe. She moved away once more, darting to the side in an attempt to strike once more. But S’ym was ready for her now. His blows were fierce, fueled by the hatred of Limbo. He swings seemed wild in nature, but each one was calculated. Each one was deadly. Yet Magik defended against each strike, her own rage building each time the axe hit the metal of her staff.

She somersaulted backward to dodge a strike of his blade. As she moved through the air, a flick of her wrist generated a stepping disc beneath, teleporting her out of the way as another swing nearly decapitated her. Appearing behind him she took a swipe at his skull. She was striking to kill now. Not maim. She was tired of fighting. Tired of him living.

He was too quick. He ducked, before swiping himself with his spare arm at his cut, his claws cutting through the front of her shirt. Before they tore at her skin however, she spun out of harm's way, striker herself. Once again the weapons collided with a piercing clink.

I can do this all day Poppet.” He hissed, before charging forward towards her.

She smiled. Big mistakes.

She opened a disc before him, and before the behemoth could stop he tumbled through, flailing wildly. He appeared in the end to her right, exactly when she wanted him. Her staff struck him across the chest, sending him crashing into the ground. And then she was atop him.

With the butt of her staff, she thrust downwards, smashing the bones in his hand, causing his axe to fall to his side with a thud. The demon let out a violent howl that echoed around them as he thrust about where he lay in an attempt to escape.

"Why?" She roared, pressing down hard. "Why are you here?

His cries grew louder. But they weren’t loud enough. She wanted to hear him cry. She wanted to see him bleed. See him suffer.

But then the sound of his pain ceased, as S’ym let out a croaking sound, which after a few seconds transformed into a painful laugh.

S’ym didn’t kill you when you were small, Poppet because our master protected you.” His voice growled on through the pain, yet as he went on he seemed to regain his strength.

Now that protection is over. Belasco has a new pet to play with. And now S’ym thinks you’re fair game.

New Pet.

The comment caused her to freeze, her mind attempting to race to an understanding. He had to be wrong. He had to be lying.

S’ym smiled, knowing the damage was done. Acting while she was distracted, he darted up, pushing her off him with a single swing of his arm. He struggled to his feet, as Illyana caught her balance.

Should’ve killed me when you had the chance.” He jeered, limping forwards towards her.

It took everything Illyana had to keep her focused. Her mind was screaming a multitude of questions. And on top of that, she still had S’ym to deal with. Anger still edged on her, however now the pain was back. And the fear.

Maybe.” She managed, locking eyes with S’ym while tightening her hands around her staff. “However there’s been enough bloodshed today.

And with that, she crossed her arms before her. S’ym shouted in protest as a stepping disc materialized once more at his feet. Before he could even attempt an escape he was gone. The bar grew silent immediately in his absence. Her eyes wandered the room as she took everything in. The patrons had vanished, having escaped from the carnage shortly after the demons had arrived. Now all that was left was the dissected body of the Canterbury Cricket, an unconscious demon amongst the remains of what was once the bar, and Ragman slumped against a wall, clutching his arm.

And down in Limbo, Belasco was currently busy torturing a new soul.

Everything was fucked.

Illyana fell to her knees and wept.

"Are you sure we need him?"

"Shut it, Rory."

"I just think we can do a bit better, that's all. And I'm pretty sure the Discovery Channel said that crickets aren't even a thing in the UK."

Their whispering was interrupted by the clanking of plates, as the creature in front of them began to tear into his food. It dripped manically from his pincered mouth like larvae as he did so. He hunched over the table as he ate, perching on his back spiny legs. His chitinous exoskeleton sloped across his body up to his head, where a large pair of insectoid eyes jutted around the room madly. His wings lay sleekly across his back, motionless bar the occasional flutter. He ate ravinishely as if feasting on his prey, drawing eyes from all around the room, who watched in a mixture of horror and confusion.

Illyana and Rory didn’t know what to expect when they initially asked if the insect wanted to meet, however, it certainly wasn’t going for a meal in his local pub. A swift stepping disc teleportation had transported the two to the English city of Canterbury in next to no time, and the creature’s distinct appearance had allowed them to find him almost immediately. The three sat across from one another at a small table in the centre of a large English pub. Cheap and uncheerful, the place was full of vomitous carpets, unmatching wood paneling, fruit machines, and all the shoddy artwork a cheap beer devotee could desire. It was certainly not the usual place to meet potential recruits in the war against Limbo.

Actually…” The Canterbury Cricket managed, taking a breather from the mess of food on his plate. “The cricket that forms my body came from the local university.

She lived a life of hardship and suffering before the Lord brought her to me.

Rory shuddered slightly as he watched the insect speak, a look of visible disgust across his face, which he quickly attempted to hide after receiving a look from Illyana. The Cricket’s appearance didn’t bother her too much. After a childhood of demons and monsters, it was surprising how normal these kinds of things quickly became.

Realizing he was being rude, Rory backed up his chair and rose to his feet.

I’m going to grab another drink.” He confirmed before heading off across the room, flashing the two with an apologetic face as he walked away.

I’m sorry about him.” Illyana apologized, turning her attention back towards the cricket.

Cricket simply smiled, his antennas flexing slightly as he did so.

No need to apologize, I’m used to people looking at me like that by now.” His voice was jovial, yet Illyana still couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

I’m much happier though now.” He continued, offering her another smile. “Which is why I want to say to you, that that sadness inside you gets better.

Illyana froze as he spoke. It felt as if the words were cutting into her heart. How did he know how she was feeling? Was it really that obvious? Was there a dramatic tattoo saying she was damaged on her forehead? Her mind raced back to the rooftop from when she had first met Rory. The comment he had made about her soul. Was she really that broken?

No. She wasn’t. He was wrong. He had to be.

You don’t know anything about me.” The words left her mouth impulsively, her finger pointing at the cricket accusingly.

He retreated back slightly at her remark, surprised. Then after a moment of thought, he continued.

I know you’re scared.” He spoke firmly, raising his clawed arm to stop her when she attempted to interrupt. “I was scared too when this first happened to me. Obviously, our situations are very different, but I know how you feel. It’s tough.

Magik sunk back into her chair as he spoke. Her lip trembled, and all she wanted to do was call out and tell him he was wrong. But deep don’t she knew that he wasn’t.

You go around and the whole world thinks you’re a monster. No matter what you do. No matter how many people you save. They’ll always define you by your past. By how you look. By where you grew up. But Magik...

The Canterbury Cricket reared up from his chair and took Illyana’s hands into his own. They were cold and monstrous, yet she didn’t flinch.

They’re wrong. They’re all wrong. You are you, and you are beautiful. You’re not a monster.

Illyana couldn’t help but let a smile escape from her lips.

I want you to say it.

Illyana let out a confused laugh. “What?

I want you to say you’re not a monster.” The Cricket demanded, giving her an encouraging look.

I’m not saying that.” She scoffed.

Do it.

Fineee” She groaned childishly before beaming once more. Rising herself, she held the Crickets hand’s and spoke confidently.

I am not a monster.

A cold laugh cut across the room, silencing the murmurs of the pub’s patrons.

The axe blade cut through the Canterbury Cricket’s body like a knife through butter. He didn’t even have a chance to scream. The upper half of his corpse dropped onto the table before them with a loud thud, scattering the cutlery and plates over the floor.

Illyana just stood and watched. Everything felt numb.

Her eyes followed the blade up as the axe’s owner lifted it back into the air. When she saw them all she wanted to do was scream but no noise came when she opened her mouth. There was only pain.

The three figures before her stood tall and strong, towering above her menacingly. Their bodies were sheathed in scales of red and brown. Their eyes piercing and cold.

Hello poppet.” Spittle broke free from the jagged teeth of their leader, S’ym, as he spoke. “Did you miss me?

They were the Demon’s Three; Belasco’s royal enforcers.
@Natty as Magik - Last Post 10 Days Ago


Been away from the laptop for the last week, but I get back tomorrow so should be able to whip something up!
Ooh The Wicked + The Divine would work pretty well in a DC/Marvel universe I feel. Would certainly be interesting to see how they cope with not being the only "Gods" that people worship

It was during the early hours of the morning that Illyana Rasputina found herself returning to the Sanctum Sanctorum. She had teleported to the street outside, not wishing to wake the other inhabitants of the Sanctum at such an hour. Closing the door on the already bustling sounds of New York, she crept across the entrance hall as silently as she could, awkwardly tiptoeing in her heavy boots. She eyed the stairs in front of her cautiously as she veered towards the back right of the room and towards the kitchen.

She passed the archway to the drawing room on her way, and upon hearing the soft crackle of a fire, poked her head through curiously. She smiled warmly at the sight of Bats' spectral body curled up comfortably before the fire. Normally Illyana wasn't a fan of pets, however, she held a soft spot for Strange's ghostly basset hound.

Blowing him a silent kiss, she continued on her way, moving into the kitchen. Despite the grand yet whimsical nature of the rest of the house, the kitchen was sleek and cool, with a large spotless countertop centering the room. The place would make the likes of Paula Deen jealous. It was no wonder that Wong referred to this room as his happy place.

Despite knowing that fact though, the sound of Wong's voice still took Illyana by surprise as she entered the room. Her eyes darting towards him in shock like a deer caught in headlights.

"Good morning, Miss Rasputina." He mused, before turning back to the pile of laundry that he had been tending to. "Or should I say good evening? I assume you'll be sleeping in today?"

Illyana made a noise and shrugged before striding into the room and grabbing a glass from the side. Wong in return simply chuckled in bemusement.

Is Stephen about?” She questioned, filling her drink from the faucet.

Wong shook his head slowly as he turned, not turning his eyes away from the shirts he was folding with perfect precision.

"Much like you, he went out last night. Had to make a trip to the Himalayas I believe."

She nodded, before beginning to drum her fingers against the countertop in thought.

"I feel like you have another question Illyana."

The question threw Illyana somewhat. She had forgotten how close she and Wong had grown since she'd started living here. He had always been a somewhat perceptive person, however now he could read her like a book. She didn't know whether to be worried or touched that someone finally understood her.

"I've been doing some research and veading up on some of Stephen's old associates when he first started out." She did her best to keep her cool as she spoke. Technically it wasn't a lie.

"From his Shadowpact days?" Wong questioned, finally turning away from the clothes, a huge smile across his face. "Oh, I do miss them. Simpler times!"

"Shadowpact? Bit of a stupid name." Illyana rebuked, scrunching up her face slightly at the thought.

Wong let out a laugh, before raising his hand up towards the door. Within seconds, the sound of rushing wind met their ears as a small object rocketed out of the darkness of the hall towards them. It slowed dramatically as it neared them, with Illyana realizing that it was a book. Bound in dark green leather, the tome looked as if it were hundreds of years old. She held her breath slightly, a part of her feeling like the thing would crumble into dusk at a single touch. Wong had no such hesitation however and grabbed it from the air. Placing it on the counter before them, he brushed off a thick layer of dust before continuing.

"[color=steelblue]Maybe it is stupid, but that name has been used throughout history by champions of magic." Just to prove his point, he opened the front cover, revealing a drawing of an assorted group of men, all dressed in brightly coloured robes. He turned the page, revealing another group, this time dressed in loin clothes and dresses. Each page displayed an image of a different group, and as they went, the clothing changed as they leaped forward in time. The art style remained beautiful though, truly capturing the essence of each and every person.

"It's... It's a photo album."

"This is the complete roster of Shadowpact since the beginning of time, Illyana." Wong said sternly, before breaking out into a laugh. "But yes, it's essentially a magical photo album."

He turned the final page. This time, instead of a beautiful oil painting like the other rosters, there was a simple photograph. She gasped in amazement as she took it all in. She had spotted Strange immediately, his infamous goatee and flamboyant red cloak giving away his position instantly. While maybe not to the extent of Stephen's costume, the men around him were also all dressed somewhat bizarrely, from ill-colored suits to uncomfortable looking spandex. One individual took the cake though.

"Who the hell is that?" Illyana asked, thrusting her finger towards the bottom corner of the photo.

Wong smiled, taking in the horrifying visage of the all-so-familiar human-sized insect before him.

"That Illyana, is the Canterbury Cricket!"
So, in the interest of spurring OOC discussion (so we can get to the 2000th post and it can be used for something that isn't a GIF of Thanos dabbing), what is, all time, your favorite single piece of superhero media?


Spoilers for Doom Patrol

Sample text

"Are you sure we need him?"

"Shut it, Rory."

"I just think we can do a bit better, that's all. Like, I'm pretty sure the Discovery Channel said that there aren't crickets aren't even a thing in the UK."

Their whispering was interrupted by the clanking of
Food dripped from his pincered mouth like larvae as he tore away at the burger before him.

She reaches for her dropped staff and thrusts down, smashing the bones in his hand. The demon let out a violent howl that echoed around them as he thrust about where he lay in an attempt to escape.

"
"Why?" She roared, pressing down hard. "Why
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