Full free day tomorrow so will be finishing up my first arc!
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Morden Man,
Sep
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“Happy Birthday!”
The cheer erupted around Illyana as she successfully blew out the candle crudely placed atop her plate of pancakes. As the jolly sound of music played from the old radio on the kitchen shelf, she looked up cheerfully, giving her family a big toothy grin, before launching her arms up to embrace mother as she approached. She hugged back, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. The feeling tickled, and as such Illyana giggled loudly, her mother smiling in bemusement.
“Tuck in, Snowflake.” Mother gestured towards the food.
She obliged happily, initially forgetting her knife and fork until a stern look from Mother reminded her otherwise. These pancakes, Syrniki, was her favorite. Mother only made them for special occasions, which only made Illyana crave them more. Today was a special occasion though. That was why Father was here, instead of being busy working in the fields outside. He stood by the kitchen counter watching silently. He was trying to smile and enjoy himself, however, given the way he kept glancing towards the door and the impatient drumming of his fingers onto the counter, it was clear that he was keen to get out there. Her old brother Piotr, however, was the exact opposite. He seemed to relish on being free from work and coddled his little sister happily. Despite mirroring Father’s stature and standing at 6 ft. 6, Piotr was the kindest and most caring person she knew. He was her entire world. And now she got to be with him the entire day.
Today was her 6th birthday, and nothing could ruin it.
As if she had jinxed herself, as soon as those words crossed her mind, Illyana felt the hairs rise on the back her neck, as a strange chill ran through her body. Around her, her family continued to smile and laugh, however, for a moment Illyana felt disconnected from them. A flash of green from outside the window caught her attention, her gaze snapping towards it. A ragged mask of green and browns gazed back at her, a dark green hood covering his— No. There was no hood or anything of the sort, just a pair of jet-black horns atop a red devilish face. His brow furrowed as his eyes penetrated hers, his mouth forming into a crooked smile of pearly white daggers.
“No! I don’t want you!” Fear flowed through Illyana as she called out, throwing her arms out in front of her.
She knocked her plate onto the floor in her frenzy, and as the sound of ceramic breaking met her ears, everything went black.
☠
Now she was in her bedroom, tucked up in her bed, the covers up to her neck so that only her head could be seen. Now she was safe. Safe from the red man.
Piotr sat at the edge of her bed, a small book of fairy tales in his hands. He was extremely tired from his day of working on the farm, however here he stayed, his giant fingers delicately turning the pages of the book as he read aloud. She smiled as she listened to him read. Much like his general demeanor, his voice was much gentler than you'd expect. The characters of the story came allowed as he spoke, putting on various voices for each character. She loved when he did that.
"Magik?"
A voice rang out around them, echoing around the room. Illyana jolted up from where she lay, moving back against the bed frame and bringing her knees up to her chest. Her breathing grew heavy as she watched the door handle turn from across the room.
"Magik, is that you?"
The voice spoke again. This time it seemed different, with it seemingly shifting to a tone more cold and raspy as it went on. Illyana knew exactly who it was even before the shadowy figured crept into the room before them. She screamed loudly as the red-skinned man caught sight of them, who in retaliation seemed to stumble backward in confusion. In doing so, Belasco seemed to catch the sight of his bloody colored hands, and most bizarrely seemed to fall back even further in his confusion. However, that was the least of his problems as Piotr rose from the bed. At once his body began to shift, as sheet upon sheet of gleaming metal began to encapsulate his entire body until all that stood in the center of the room was a colossal man of metal.
"What the fuc--"
Belasco could hardly finish as a silver fist implanted him right in the stomach. He arched forward in pain, clutching his stomach. The crunching sound that came after the punch indicated that a rib was broken, however, he didn't any more time to react before Piotr swung his second fist, this time to the side of the demon's head. As soon as the metal hit, something odd seemed to happen as Belasco was knocked to the floor. His body seemed to shift for a moment while mid-air. For a split second, it changed. Gone was the sinister sight of the being that haunted her dreams, and in its place, a man dressed in a suit of patches and rags. There was something familiar about the tattered man, however before Illyana could place it, his form shifted once more.
Belasco groaned from the floor, a metal foot pinning him down.
"Magik... It's... It's me."
Illyana didn't want to listen to his lies.
"Leave me alone!"
☠
Now she was out in the fields with Piotr. While she ran about and placed in the sun, he moved about behind her, his body once again coated in metal as he heaved a plow over the fresh soil. Now she was safe. Now she was alone from the red man.
"Magik!"
As if on queue his voice rang out across the field. She screamed in agony as she turned towards Belasco, who now was sprinting towards her across the field, his tattered green cloak billowing behind him.
☠
Now she was in the kitchen again. She stood on a stall in front of the counter, helping Mother peel the potatoes for supper. Now she was safe.
Her eyes darted around the room as she worked. He was here somewhere. He was always here. Her peeling grew faster. Slice. Slice. Slice. Until. She squirmed in pain as the peeler struck her finger.
"No, no, no..."
That was all she managed as she took in the sight of the bloody mess of potato peels before her. She moved about frantically, moving her hands over to the running tap of the sink, which began a mini waterfall of red once her fingers passed under it. Mother moved towards her, her hand dabbing at the wound with a clean cloth. However now as she watched, Illyana saw that the hand helping her wasn't Mothers, but was instead part of the very same suit of rags she had seen previously.
She screamed once more as she turned to look up at Belasco who towered above her. His face was the same; now matching the color of the bloody water, however, his body seemed different, now made up of tattered patches of greens and browns.
He didn't react this time to her scream, and simply grabbed hold of her arm as she reared back to run. All she wanted was to be away from here. For things to fade to black once more and for her to be somewhere else. Somewhere safe.
"What do you want from me?!" She demanded through sobs.
He stayed silent. Taking his free hand, he moved it up towards his face, whether he simply grabbed at one of his horns. It seemed to squeeze into his hand as he gripped it, and with it, he pulled. She watched in horror as Belasco's face moved upwards, only to realized what it was. A mask. The man underneath smiled meekly as the mask came off, with him obviously trying to not appear threatening to the girl. He had shallow cheeks, with a 5 o'clock a shadow, all topped off by a mess of red hair, that seemed to have risen up with the mask slightly, causing it to stick out all over the place. The mask however now looked completely different than it had previously. It was no longer that of Belasco's face, but instead matched the rest of his suit.
"My name's Rory Regan." He explained, trying to calm her down. Illyana just looked at him blankly, still on edge.
"This is going to sound absolutely crazy, but we're friends. Well... Kinda. You know me as Ragman. And I'm sorry Magik, but this..." He gestured at the room around them. "This is all a lie."
Before she could protest, he let moved his hand from her wrist where he had been holding her, and lunged at her face, placing his outstretched palm on her forehead. The sound of a million voices filled her head as the rags touched her, all of them crying out in pain. She attempted to cry out herself, however, no sound came. All she could do was watching as the world around them shifted. It didn't fade to black as it had done before. As it had done whenever she had cried out scared. Now it simply crumbled, returning to her head.
I'm usually not too great at picking theme songs for my characters, but for Magik it definitely has to be this.
Did someone say Dystopian superhero states?
As much as I'm enjoying him post-resurrection, this is probably one of the most interesting Cyclops stories they've done imo
Was just chatting with Doc on Discord when I brought up the idea of Injustice in this RP's universe, and I figured I'd bring the discussion here.
So. The biggest and bestest superhero went nuts and created a totalitarian dystopia. Who did it and where would your characters be in that mess?
I'd feel Magik could be on either side, however leaning more on the side of the Regime. Like if the big bad offered her what she wanted, she'd definitely become a lackey for them, and then possibly given the circumstances become the Regime's Regent of Limbo
As for who the big bad would be, I agree with Wraith. I feel if anyone was to try and rise up at this point, it really wouldn't get too far
“Who the ever loving Блядь1 is Master Marcosa?” Illyana demanded, the tip of her staff now glowing in magic energy as she edged it towards the woman. Around them the corridor continued to burn, however she noticed that there was no smoke. No toxic fumes causing her pain. Just the disgusting scent of brimstone.
“Master Marcosa is here to give us our hearts desires.” The woman turned on the spot as she spoke, before slowly moving away from them down the corridor. “We would do anything for that.”
“Hearts desires? Sounds good, lead the way Madam.” Ragman managed as he pulled his ragged mask back down over his mask. “Just let me catch my breath first…”
“I still don’t understand what’s happening here.” Illyana questioned, pushing past Ragman so that she was walking side-by-side with the human-puppet.
“Why don’t you have a look.”
At that the woman turned on the spot and stopped right in front of the front door to an apartment. As far as Illyana could see, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary going on here, it just a plain old door. However, as both her and Ragman approached, it swung open as if on cue. Instead of being met with a dingy old apartment like they had expected, the two were greeted by the rush of cool air and the sound of loud cheering and fanfare. Below them was a football stadium, filled to the brim with colour and lights. A game was currently well underway, and you could feel the adrenalin from both the players on the pitch and those in the stands. Everyone all seemed to be focused on one player, however; A quarterback in the dark greens of the Gotham Knights, who found himself plastered all over screens across the stadium as he moved about the pitch. The name on the back of his jersey, Finch, also seemed to match what everyone in the stands seemed to be chanting, despite what team they seemed to be dressed to support. What more, “Finch” didn’t look like a football star whatsoever. He dwarfed the other players on his team, who quite frankly also all looked a good 20 years younger than him.
Illyana watched from the doorway in awe; usually such activities didn’t interest her in the slightest, however the fact that this was all taking place in the comfort of a Gotham apartment was enough to interest anyone. Surely it was an illusion. It had to be.
“Toto, I don’t think we’re in Gotham anymore.” Ragman mused, peering in himself.
“What is this?” Illyana demanded, her attention snapping back to the woman. “Where is this.”
“I told you Miss Rasputina. It’s our hearts desires.” At that she gave a wave of her hand.
At once the corridor around them seemed to come alive as every other door in sight swung open.
"Because that isn't super creepy...".
Illyana moved forward, leaving Ragman’s side. As she looked, each room was much more different than the last. One simply contained a happy smiling family, all gathered around the fireplace blissfully, with the next a large overweight man having the time of his life in a bed with a large number of beautiful Amazonian women. People played about in large swimming pools of cash, while others drove the streets of Monaco in sleek European sportscars. Each sight was strange and eye-opening, and the more she looked, the more Illyana knew that the woman was right. These illusions were exactly how she had described it. Their hearts desire. Surely this wasn’t bad right? Surely they were getting everything they wanted?
That thought was erased from her mind as she got to the second to last doorway in the corridor. Once again she found the doorway opening out in the middle of the air. However, this time it wasn’t above a stadium, but was instead high above a city, with a gigantic aeroplane soaring past. Next it to however, floating through the air, was a young boy. He was probably about 8 or 9, and wore a suit of blue and red, and with it closely resembled that of the Supergirl Illyana had heard so much about recently on the news. He smiled gleefully as he flew through the air, waving in delight at the passengers of the plane through its windows. One would say that the sight was adorable, with Illyana even agreeing despite her tough-as-nails nature, however all she could feel right now was anger. If that kid was here, then that meant he was just like the woman next to them. A possessed empty shell. Just like she had been so long ago. Her hand tightened around her staff, as she reared round towards the elderly woman leading her, her face growing red.
“You’ve done this to a fucking child?!. What kind of monster steals a kid from their home and... and does this shit to them?” She realized that she was shouting now. Ragman was saying something behind her, trying to calm her down, but she wasn’t listening.
“Now, now Miss Rasputina….” A chilling voice entered the room as a figure walked out of the last door of the corridor. ”You really need to curb your temper.”
Tall and harrowing, the man before them was an imposing figure. Thick bushy eyebrows, with a rasp of beard to match gave him a rather rugged look, that contrasted heavily with the rich suit of black and burgundy. The dark cloak he wore over this billowed around behind him, buffeted by a non-existent window. His teeth though seemed to be his prominent feature. He smiled as he spoke, showing off his central incisors, which seemed to be bejewelled with a flashing pair of rubies; the red so bright that it looked as if he had just rose from the neck of his last prey.
However much like the scenes within the rooms, there was an air to the man that just didn’t seem real. As Illyana looked more carefully, she noticed that parts of his body just seemed to flicker. Flicker in and out of existence like static from a television. As if sensing her thoughts, he gripped his arm, where the flickering was most constant, before giving another smile of red.
Instantly she turned her staff so that it was pointing straight at him.
“Master Marcosa I presume? Fantastic, now you can explain this shitshow in person!”
He simply reared his head back slightly and laughed, showing off his glistening teeth once more.
“Nothing gets by you girl. But isn’t it obvious?” He mocked, motioning around him. “This is my soul farm.”
He spoke as if that should be obviously, however both Illyana and Ragman just looked between each other in confusion.
“Your what?” Ragman asked inquisitively. “And what on Earth have you done to your teeth?”
“Soul farm, my good boy. Pretty much just like those rags you’re wearing, except in this case I’m actually putting them to good use.” With that he seemed to breath in deeply, as if rejuvenating himself. At once his arm seemed to grow more solid, the flickering stopping, as his skin seems to grow more brightly.
“Not that you’ll be able to stop me anyway. You’ll be too busy dealing with my associate.”
He gestured to the door to Illyana’s right, the one opposite to the one with the “Superboy”. She turned her gaze and froze as she laid eyes on him. He wore the very same scarlet robes that he had worn on that first night, which draped carelessly over his pale red skin. A matching red tail snaked out behind him; the only thing overshadowing the sharpness of its point being the horns atop his head. It was Belasco himself, ripe from the pits of Limbo.
The world grew silent around them. Ragman was saying something again. Probably warning Illyana not to do anything stupid. However, she couldn’t hear him now. Her entire being was focussed on the man in front of her. The person who had plucked her from her home and damned her to a childhood of torture and hellfire. The man who had torn her from her family. She was screaming now. Staff raised high, she began running, sprinting as fast as she could towards Belasco’s smirking face. She felted Ragman tugging at her arm behind her, yet didn’t let him stop her, and instead pulled him forwards with her. Pulled him with her into the room.
And it was as her whole world turned to black that she realized that she had made a huge mistake.
1. Fuck.
<Snipped quote by Natty>
The Gotham Orphans.
The death of the Waynes had an even greater impact on that city than i thought
Very odd/niche question; but what is the Gotham football team called?
But back to my discussion topic, where are you guys intending to land your characters?
The overall plan is to get Illyana back to limbo to quite literally face her demons. While this is happening, the plan is to form an impromptu team around her, Shadowpact. Each member was picked for a specific reason as they all kind of have something to teach Ilyana, preparing her for her journey. So I'm hoping it comes across like that, instead of just a hodgepodge team of somewhat-unrelated mystic DC/Marvel characters.
A post should be done by the end of the weekend
“Please don’t do that again” Ragman moaned, clutching his stomach, as the stepping disc faded away.
Illyana ignored him, moving forward into the dimly lit street, eyes fixated on the flaming apartment building in front of them. Her gaze turned to the old stone steps leading up to the building’s front entrance, where the flames seemed to be at their strongest. She frowned. This was going to be a bit more difficult than she had expected. As Ragman continued to wretch and groan underneath his ragged mask behind her, she raised her staff, pointing it towards the flames. Clearing her throat, she let out a soft hum before speaking the words of magic, her voice taking on a husky tone as she did so.
“Winds of Watoomb.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, the street around them erupted into noise as the wind picked up around them. Magik stood strong as what appeared to be a miniature tornado formed in front of her, gale force winds pushed back against and upturning trash everywhere. She could barely hear Ragman over the noise, who had now stopped being on the urge of being violently sick and had instead turned to shouting in confusion at the commotion. She ignored him, and instead simply raised her hand, moving it forward, as if she was motioning to push the wind forward. And so, it did. The tornado moved forward rapidly, rocketing towards the apartment building, with enough force to snuff out any flame.
However, as soon as the first torrents of wind hit the hellfire, the winds simply dispersed.
As the street grew quiet, Magik groaned, tapping her finger against her staff impatiently. Maybe she hadn’t done the spell correctly? Maybe she wasn’t the competent sorcerer she thought she had been? Maybe Strange had been wrong about her. Wrong about all of her “potential.” Maybe Belasco was right. Maybe... No. Her spell had been perfect. It was just that the building’s magic was stronger. Hellfire’s a bitch, there was no questioning that.
“Woah…” Ragman’s voice snapped her out of her self-deprecating thoughts, returning her to the Gotham street.
“I’m glad someone’s impressed because that did fuck all.”
“No, not that. Look!”
Her eyes followed his, her mouth falling agape slightly. It suddenly dawned on her why no one had been paying the two of them attention. Or panicking at the sight of a whirlwind appearing in the middle of the street. No, instead they moved like zombies, slowly lurching towards the apartment building. As one middle-aged woman crawled past her, Illyana caught sight of her face. Her features were motionless as if she’s been frozen in a sheet of ice. All except her eyes, which glowed and burned a crimson red, like two tiny balls of fire.
“Блядь… They look… Possessed.” She went to grab the woman by the arm to pull her back, however, despite her weak appearance, she wriggled out of Illyana’s grasp with ease, continuing. Defeated, she stood back, running her hand through her hair. “We need to get in there.”
“And there’s our entrance.” Ragman said, pointing up towards the building, where a window sat wide open next to a fire escape. Once he saw that Magik had seen it, he moved his finger up towards the rooftop across the alleyway from it. “If we get up there, then I reckon we could jump right down to the window without hitting the flames.”
Illyana simply scoffed. “Too slow.”
At once the ground beneath them erupted into light once more.
“What?! Wait! Magik!”
The two materialized inside a dimly lit corridor. The walls and roof were covered in damp, with the wallpaper peeling off all over the place. The furthest door from them had been left ajar, allowing a glorious amber glow to meander like a narrow stream across the hall, stopping at it hit a figure in front of them.
“I think I’m going to be sick…” Ragman moaned, stumbling to a wall for support.
Illyana ignored him, focussing on the approaching woman. Frail and feeble, a light pink frock covered the old woman’s bony arms. Her wispy hair and wrinkled features were illuminated by the burning eyes of fire that she shared with the zombies from the street below.
“A warm welcome to the Ragman, and the Daughter of Limbo.” Her voice was eerie and cold. A combination of both what must’ve been her own voice, and another’s. “Master Marcosa has been expecting you.”
At that, the sound of Ragman’s retching reached an all-time high as he pulled up his mask, and vomited onto the floor before them.
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