1400/The Importance of Being Infernalist

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The Importance of Being Infernalist
Date of Scene: 20 July 2017
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Cypher, Magik




Cypher has posed:
Sometimes stuff gets out. It's not common, of course, but in the land of Mutants, and occasionally Mutant Sorcerers, stuff gets out.

This thing is shaped vaguely like a pumpkin, with a row of spidery black eyes, and a mouthful of teeth. It drags itself along the floor on a row of tentacles, and right now it's in a hallway, staring down Doug.

"Uh-huh." He says, as he listens to the thing gibber at him. "So, if I'm interpreting you right, and I absolutely am, you're going to eat me?"

The thing gibbers and waves its tentacles. "Oh. I'm sorry. You're going to implant me with your young, which will burst forth from my... that's disgusting."

More gibbering.

"Yes. Then you're going to eat me. I got that part. Okay. So." He turns, and *bolts*, and the thing comes hauling caboose after him, going BLERGHALERGALERGALERG.

"Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God--" Doug is running at full speed, down the hallway, and this thing is chasing him, and it's catching up. "Oh God--" He rounds a corner, looks around, frantically... and then comes face to face with a suit of armor, armed with an enormous iron mace. He looks at the mace, and says, "Oh, I'm dead again either way."

The creature rounds the corner, and Doug CLOCKS it with that spiked morning star. WHAM! It goes bowling down the hall, and then rights itself. Doug looks at the purplish-gray slime on the head of the mace, and makes a face. "Um. SOMEBODY HELP!?"

Magik has posed:
    It's not every day that there's a ...pumpkin monster? ... that goes flying through the study hall via mace to the face courtesy of possibly one of the weakest x-individuals in X-history. But the way that Illyana is still curled up in the comfy chair she's in, reading whatever book she's reading, one would think this really /is/ every day activity. In fact, she hasn't budged. Where as other students might've peeked a head up the moment the sound from Doug's chase started filtering into the room, Illyana has just simply flipped a page.

    And another. And another. OH, look, she's timed them with the cadence of 'oh gods' that have started to get chanted. "Oh, that's interesting," she comments to herself before the sound of something metal hitting something wet and squishy makes itself known.

    Here she grabs her bookmark and marks her space and sets the book aside (Oh look, she's reading about costuming!). And then she walks /away/ from where the beast landed, apparently finding something else to do. However, mere moments later, the pumpkin beast is bathed with light as Illyana shoves her Soulsword through its body. There is only a faint coloring of silver upon the fingers that hold the hilt, showing that the Sword's corruption of Illyana is still in its infancy. A dismissal is uttered in Demonic for added emphasis...but the blade should still do its job.

Cypher has posed:
That thing was just about to jump on Doug, with its mouth open and errthang -- and he had the mace in his hand, and was, to his credit, about to go down fighting.

Then a sword sticks through it from behind, and the dismissal spell is cast, and then the thing... *ruptures*. Before vanishing in a blast of brimstone-scented smoke. And a big gout of that purple slime goes *splat* onto Doug.

He's standing there, befuddled, slime on his Xavier-School shirt and the mace in his hands. Blinkblink. Blink. "...Yuck."

Magik has posed:
    "Well, that was rude," Illyana just stands there admist demonic gore. "Obviously not one of mine. I'd not tolerate such filth." She blinks then staring at the purple gunked Doug. "You weren't trying to summon things weren't you? Because that was something you shouldn't summon. Just so you know." Pause. "And you're disgusting." But this isn't said with any vitriol. It's almost as if she was trying to be affectionate. Without actually saying anything nice.

    She waves the sword again in Doug's direction and a quick trasmutation circle appears at his feet. Another word finishes the spell and her /aim/ is to have his clothes cleaned of demon-guts and restored to something relatively suitable. And with the Soulsword out, it /should/ work as intended.

Cypher has posed:
Doug finds himself spotless... and the mace has been cleaned and oiled. It's worth noting that the T/O infection has been cleared up and he is ruddy and in the absolute *rudest* of good health. Like. As in. He has biceps and *abs*. "Oh. Uh. Thank you."

Then he looks down, and realizes he's suddenly wearing a 1980s style 'Lila Cheney' shirt... the one with the high-cut belly and the ripped arms. "Um. Okay. Well. I AM a Lila Cheney fan, so I guess this is all right."

He -- carefully -- leans the mace against the wall. "Hey." He says, "Illyana. I wanted to ask for a favor? They say you can-- you know--do things, magic things. And I have a question that's been on my mind. Maybe you can help me answer it."

Magik has posed:
    He's wearing a Lila Cheney shirt? Illyana didn't notice. She's toob usy trying to figure out how a geek got toned like that. Not that she's minding. NOt that she's /staring/ mind. "I wonder where they had that," she eventually comments, as if it's dawned on her that Doug's attire different than what it was before. "Be thankful it worked," she says as she walks ove rto pluck the mace from his hand and set it somewhere where the staff can put it back where it belongs. She could do that but knowing her luck, the imp she'll send on the errand will have somehow enchanted it to nip at Dr. McCoy's ankles or something. But he's already set it aside so there's that. It causes enough of a delay that he gets his question out before she's put her sword away.

    And she just /looks/ at him. She looks at the remnants of her magic circle that helped clean him up. She looks at the obviously glowing magical sword in her hand. She glances back at where she dismissed the demon... the scent of brimstone may still linger. She then looks back at Doug. And with a total straight face, "No. I don't know a thing at all about magic things."

Cypher has posed:
Doug's mouth goes up at the corner. "Look." He says. "I was a lapsed Mormon kid who got the mutant power that always made at least one person argue that he should stay home while everybody else was having adventures. I'm not exactly experienced in magic that doesn't come out of a D&D player's handbook." He holds up his hands.

Then he drops them to his sides. "Okay. ...Basically, I need to know -- Am I *really* Doug Ramsey? As in, am I really him? Or am I just a shell, something that was brought to life with his face, in his body, with his memories? Am I somebody else? Should I change my name to Philip Reilly or something? I just..." He sighs, and rubs the back of his neck. "It'd be nice to know?"

Magik has posed:
    "Apparently, according to the history books, you /should/ have stayed home." Illyana rests the sword tip down against the floor so she can rest both her hands on the hilt. "NOt that I blame you for ingoring that. But it did cause problems, from what I understand. And you have my sincirest apologies." This is obviously a comment about him being Mormon, lapsed or otherwise.

    There's a curious tilt to her head as he makes his request. "Did Dr. McCoy find anything wrong with you?" She asks first. It's obvious she's thinking, and she may have an answer to his question, but even on something of a language level she seems to be, pardon the pun, stuck in limbo.

Cypher has posed:
"No." Doug says, "After I was able to communicate with it, the techno-organic virus went completely inert -- total remission, an almost 0 blood count. I'll still be coming in to have it monitored, of course, to make sure that it hasn't changed its, uh, mind, but I've been given a clean bill of health." He runs his fingers through that mop of wheat-gold hair. "I need a haircut." He says, before he returns to Magik.

"Yeah. You don't--I don't want to be a burden on you." He says, "It's just..." He sighs, "It'd be nice to know. It'd help me with a few other choices I have to make."

Magik has posed:
"I understand. I don't sense anything magical about you," Magik comments, taking a few steps forward. She lifts a hand and, if permitted, fuzzles that mop of apparently needing to be cut hair. "Ah, some girl may like it. OH by the way, this may hurt a little." It should be noted now that she fuzzled the other mutant with her off hand, and her body language is suddenly screaming 'attack'. "It shouldn't, but it might."

    Because she's taking the moment of close proximity to slam the sword into Doug's midsection - assuming he doesn't react to her telegraphed (not that she realizes it) move. However, should he actually trust her (as she's not radiating any intention to necessarily /harm/ just... stab him.) enough to let the sword sink into his belly, he'll find she actually hadn't wounded him. /Unless/ of course, he is magical in some fashion. Then things might get weird.

Cypher has posed:
He is not! He actually flushes crimson a little bit when Illyana ruffles his hair, but then the sword is going through him and his eyes go wide, as he moves to grab hold of Illyana's wrists--he was about to reflexively try and dislocate her wrist. But then he notices there's no pain, not even that sickening pressure that he remembers feeling when he got shot.

He lets go, and looks down at the sword in his guts.

"I'm sorry, but this is SO WEIRD. What comes next?"

Magik has posed:
    Illyana actually permits the set up for her wrist to be dealt with... she's /surprised/ by the action, but she permits it. Mostly becasue she has her answer the moment the sword begun to enter Doug's body. Withdrawing it, she offers as she kind of wiggles her hand free from Doug's wrist-grab, "It means you have nothing sorcerous about you. There is no magic. There's nothing possessing you. IF you're a doppleganger you're one of science, not magic. If anything sorcerous was involved, you would've reacted. It's how this works." She makes a motion with the blade. "Only works on magic."

    It's here that she sheathes the blade... in her own person. Almsot like stabbing herself in the gut. A bit more of that silver had grown a bit on one of her fingers, but she seems oblivious, or uncaring, of that fact. "I'll have to do some research to find other means to answer your question though. But that was the easiest way to answer my first question: Are you magic."

Cypher has posed:
"Yeah I didn't THINK I was, though I don't know exactly what the Reanimator DID--" Doug says, before he sighs, and then... he scoops Illyana up into a hug. A brief one. Yes, the most huggable New Mutant is hugging the one that literally wears spikes. Briefly. So brief. But warm! Doug is a good hugger.

"Thank you! I really appreciate your help." He pauses, and then he straightens up, slightly. "Ah. Haaaaaaa. So. Have you eaten lunch yet?"

Magik has posed:
    DO NOT TOUCH! It's an instinctual sort of body language the moment she gets picked up in a hug. And her eyes are wide, her thin brows flat over them giving her a comical cast to her expression instead of something a little more serious. If she had hackles, they'd be raised, but Doug remains unmaimed because he puts her down quickly.

    And she still has that expression on her face. It just now has a blush to it because, unfortunately, yes: Doug is a good hugger. And up until then, pretty much the only hugs she got were from her brother. If he managed to catch her.

    "I'm... here to help," she droll sout as she gets over the sudden touchytouchy. Auughhhh...it made her skin feel all weird and tingly. This better not be the warm and fuzzies people talk about! She'll have to go kick kittens to counter it. NO wait. GOOD GIRL, Illyana. You're a /good girl/. "I'll still do that research though. In case there's some weird loop holes." Then the comment about lunch. "Eh? No?" It's lunch time?

Cypher has posed:
Yeah, Doug didn't think about that, but he can read it plain as day after the fact. Do. Not. Touch. He scribbles that down in his mental notebook and then says, "Yeah. Lunch. I think it's hot dogs today. And, you know, it's nice to have company?" He rubs the back of his neck. "I might not be sticking around the mansion for much longer. It's... kind of a mess."

"See. My *parents*... they still live in Salem Center. And, I mean... they buried me. And I can GET new records, that's not a problem. But if I stay here, I can't even go out for donuts without risking that someone who knows them... who knew me will see me. And what am I supposed to tell my mother?"

Magik has posed:
    "Oh," Illyana wrinkles her nose slightly. "Let's just go raid the kitchen for something more appetizing. There might be some left over pierogis I think. Someone made some." She's alreayd walking but she slows when he comments about not staying around the mansion.

    "Being here is likely the best way to get your answers," she points out. "So you need to weigh your desire for answers with your desire to spare your family your resurrected visage. Personally? I wouldn't care," and she's telling the truth. "Do what you want. IF you run into your mother, you can make the decision to tell her a story she won't believe, or just convince her you're just really similar looking to this Doug guy."

Cypher has posed:
Doug walks along beside Illyana, and then he says, "They were never part of this. I was just taking advanced placement classes here as far as they knew. They didn't even know I was a Mutant." He shakes out his shoulders, and says, "And apparently my death got fobbed off as a 'hunting accident' - I can only imagine..." He shakes his head to banish his imagining of his mother's screams.

"I guess... I just don't want to hurt them. That makes sense, doesn't it? How would they even--" He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'll figure it out."

Magik has posed:
    Illyana's quiet here, walking with her hands behind her back. She's actually listening, and she doesn't say anything until they're in the kitchen and she's in the fridge digging out those pierogis. "Again. Focus on what you /want/." She says as she pops the plate into the microwave and works on reheating food. Mmm. Pierogis. Now if she could only find someone to make a decent borscht. "Which... well. What /do/ you want?"

Cypher has posed:
Doug looks down, and then says, with a gentle sigh, "Most immediately? To shut Graydon Creed up. And shut him down, before anybody else gets killed." He looks left, and looks right. "When I was in the infirmary, I downloaded everything on his private server, and I borrowed some server space of my own and encrypted it there. You are not gonna believe this -- his parents? Are *mutants*. His father is Sabretooth, I've heard of him. His mother is some lady called Mystique, and all I could find out about her is that every alphabet soup agency wants her brought in alive."

"And the Batman has been going after him *hard*. Creed is freaking out about it, having a complete paranoid meltdown..." He shakes his head and waves that off. "I don't know. I died when I was fifteen and I came out 18 with abs. I can't fire laser blasts and I'm emphatically not immune to bullets, but I crawled out of the grave and in this really weird way my powers just EXPLODED. It used to be that I translated languages. Written, spoken... I was okay at body language. Now? It's just... everything. EVERYTHING is language, Illyana... and I can translate it all."

Magik has posed:
    She rolls her eyes about GRaydon, after stuffing a pierogi in her mouth. She then spears anothe rone and dabs it in sour cream and offers it to Doug, mouthing the food's word with a mouthful of food. "And you're reanimated as opposed to undead. Because this house isn't weird enough," she points out. "Seems you came out for the better. And if Creed's parents are mutants ...Maybe you're here because you're meant to be here. But ultimately, it's still what you want."

    "I can top that, by the way." She sets her fork down. "I'm only seven years old." She flashes a smile here. To his abilities, she's /technically/ telling the truth, but she isn't,e ither.

Cypher has posed:
Doug Ramsey takes the pierogi and cuts it with a fork, eating it half at a time, neatly. That's our Doug, neat as a pin. He chews, thoughtfully, and then says, "I miss my friends, but it's been years. They've all moved on with their lives, you know?" He says, "I wonder if they're okay. I hope they're okay." He says, "Reincarnated! Revivified! Someone cast Raise Dead on me!"

Then he says, "I can tell that you're playing with the meaning of that--you are and you aren't seven years old. But again, this house is weird central. It always was. Magneto, Emma Frost... the Purifiers." His expression darkens, briefly. "I was shot by a Purifier. I think. My memories of dying aren't great. I jumped in front of a bullet for somebody but I don't even remember WHO it was."

Magik has posed:
    She smirks when he gets the meaning behind her play on words. "I was born seven years ago," she explains, moving to sit on a stool next to his so that they may share the reheated plate of dumblings by any other name. "But my next birthday I'll be turning eighteen. For real," she says. "You were reanimated," she points out. "While I fell into a dimensional portal and spent the next ten years of my life in a hell dimension." She pops another pierogi in her mouth, not at all neat as Doug is. Though, there's this sort of 'I don't care' about it. "It's where I learned my magic. And there's also this bit where demons shaped my formative years." That... probably explains a lot about her.

Cypher has posed:
Which makes Doug start to laugh, his shoulders shaking. "Oh my god!" He says. Then he says, in the language that Demon was spouting, <Fuck nuts!> Which somehow makes curses both unintelligible and EXTRA vulgar and hilarious. Then he offers Illyana a bright smile. "...It doesn't matter." He says. "I like you, Illyana. I won't say you're a nice person, because for all I know you might melt or something--" His smile gentles just a bit, "That was supposed to be a witch joke. But, I like you. It's like I've known you for years."