8487/Bad Day

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Bad Day
Date of Scene: 24 July 2019
Location: Illyana's apartment, probably
Synopsis: Illyana has a bad day that turns into a worse six months.
Cast of Characters: Psylocke, Magik




Psylocke has posed:
Betsy looks down at the corner of the apartment's living area that is uniquely Illyana. A corner that is starkly in contrast with the rest of the decor, yet she cannot help but look down at it and smile. She's dressed as if she's going out or just returned, a purple sundress and an over-sized hat to keep off the sun itself. Over her shoulder is a purple canvas bag printed with a butterfly, which she reaches into in order to produce a small paper bag. She reaches into the bag, fishing out a smaller black box which she opens in turn. Inside is a golf-ball sized skull ornament, the eyes inset with some sort of blue gemstone like sapphires but not quite as lustrous. She sets it on the glass shelf that is part of 'The Illyana Corner' and smiles to herself.

Magik has posed:
Suddenly Illyana

Or flickers of Illyana at first.

It's like a mirage initially, stark outlines of her figure laying splayed out face down on the floor near the kitchen.

Then it's gone.

Then she's standing in a corner with her hands up on either angle and her face buried where the two walls meet.

Then it too is gone.

When her anguished cry comes out of the bedroom, it's followed by the sounds of fists banging against the carpeted floor. "Get out. Get. Out..." She is definitely not talking to anyone in the apartment.

Collapsed upon herself in a half fetal position, she's one fist balled up and the other covering the top of her head like she's warding off an attack from someone standing over her. The shadows in the room are living, moving towards her like snapping whips or caressing fingers depending on where they originate.

Psylocke has posed:
The sudden appearance in the kitchen causes Betsy to start, and then she turns quickly to spot the flickering image that then manifests in the corner. Her shoulders are hunched, her body immediately in a defensive posture associated with the ninja warrior she now shares her existence with. When it disappears, her brow furrows somewhat and she relaxes slightly. The sound from the bedroom draws her to it without hesitation, shouldering down the door and peering around at the shadows.

"Back," she demands, eyes flaring as her own darkness within her spits the word at the crawling shadows, "Back!"

She steps purposefully across the room towards Illyana, crouching down to wrap her arms protectively around her. She cranes her neck, whispering into her ear while at the same time staring daggers at the creeping darkness.

Magik has posed:
The darkness recoils away from Betsy as effectively as a flame waved at darkness beneath stairs. The entity isn't gone from the room, but it's not as inclined to make itself fully known with the other mutant staring daggers at every jumping bit of black tendril licking the open air. As if it's existance devours light.

Even with the windows open, it's dark as midnight in the room, and Illyana is wearing pajama pants. The same ones she was wearing the night before, but her white socks and the leg of those pants are caked with dried mud and fresh dirt.

Feeling the telepath, Illy clings to her, bodily crawls into the protective cocoon she's offering and buries her face in the other woman's shoulder. "It is coming on so sudden.. I was talking to student, telling them about.." She cuts herself off and curls up, clutching, pulling the Butterfly around her.

She's trembling and cold. Ice cold as if she's been in a freezer.

"What is time? How long am I gone?" One hand clutches at the side of her head trying to clear it without seperating an inch from Betsy.

Psylocke has posed:
"It's the afternoon," Betsy whispers to Illyana, her voice soothing and even as though nothing at all were wrong. As though the shadows themselves were not grasping at the pair of them, "You've been gone ... fifteen hours? Maybe a little longer."

The violet-haired woman runs her hands up and down Illyana's arms, doing her best to warm her up. For all the caring attention she pays, however, her eyes never leave the shadows. Her lips curl, exposing white teeth in a primal threat gesture that harkens back to some long forgotten and brutal age. Her lips lower to Illyana's ear, whispering yet again.

"You're safe. Which student were you talking to? What happened? I'm here. I'm here."

Magik has posed:
Illyana shivers at the answer, "Fifteen hours.." She says into Betsy, not dare looking up or back at the shadows, they're stronger than they've ever been except once. At least as far as the Telepath has ever seen. As close to actually reaching the small trembling woman as to just extend an icy black hand and wrap fingers around her neck.

Only one thing keeps it at bay.

And Illyana is clinging to her. "Was Negasonic T-.. was... I not remember all of her name, she had long name." She's scared, tired, and lacks the strength to try and remember something as overtly trivial as a moniker the length of a sentence.

"She ask me too many questions.. we talking about Piotr, about time in Limbo, then she bring up Sentinels and humans..." Slowly, very slowly, the shadows are retreating back and looking more like a normal bedroom, but there's a presence there that wont give up its grasp... possibly on either of the two women.

"I get very mad.. summon soulsword to me.... and then all my anger become like big stone and I cannot hold it on shoulders anymore.." Illy pushes back, but only so she can put a hand on either side of the Telepath's face, "I come find you, but I get lost. I am not thinking so clearly then, I go to another place where it is very cold." Looking over every inch of the made up face in front of her.

"It has been six months."

Psylocke has posed:
"You're okay," Betsy continues to reassure, not daring to rise from their crouched position, "You're alright. This happens to you. You're strong. You disappear, you come back. Six minutes or six months. I'm going to be here, alright? Right here for you."

She rests her chin on the top of Illyana's head, glaring at the shadows as though daring them to come closer even as they shrink away. She shifts her head slightly, kissing that pale blonde hair and murmuring wordless platitudes.

"You're back here now. Back with me."

Magik has posed:
Illyana breaths in a slower manner and finally glances back at the room, but it's no longer tainted and dark as when she arrived, it just looks like Betsy's room. Where Illyana has slept for most of her time on Earth since the last time she was gone... it's calming, the words are more so, and the small Russian lays dares to stretch herself out a little.

"I am just trying to get here to you." Her voice is quieter, some of the fear gone from it, as she looks up the violet eyes looking protectively down at her. "I never want to be away that long. Not from you." Cupping a hand around the other mutants cheek. "I am not scared anymore, now."

Slowly, she twists, and comes up so she's on her knees. Her clothes.. well they're a little ratty.. she's been wearing them a while, but it was probably beneath her armor for most of it. Looking over herself and what she's wearing and Betsy and what she is, it's like some switch flips and Illyana is just fine.

Even grinning a little, though it's hauntingly darker than usual, "Hi." She is a very strange woman.

Psylocke has posed:
"Hi."

The concern does not wash away from Betsy that easily, but once the shadows have departed she allows herself to relax a little. She leans in to give the strange, grinning Russian a light kiss on the forehead before raising up to her feet and sitting on the bed. She takes Illyana's hands in her own, bringing her along to sit down beside her as she does so.

"I know you don't mean to be away," Betsy explains, "And if you ever are and it's a long time for me as well as you? I'll understand. I know it's not something you don't control but also not something that you do ... if that makes any sense?"

Magik has posed:
Illyana is awash with relief as profound as the shadows were palpable in the room. It's not gone, but one is far stronger than the other, and demands to be expressed. "I am sometimes having many troubles expressing what happens in my head." She rises with the Telepath and sits down on the edge of the bed beside her, slipping fingers in with the others and then closing her hand up with a palm against her knuckles. "..." Her mouth opens for a second, then closes. Brow furrowed as she looks Betsy over with a little turn of her head to the side.

"If it is my control, I am not going to be away from here.. away from you." It isn't always her decision, "I tried many times to come back.. I would get very close and then she would find me.." Likely explaining the flickering images all around the apartment.

"I would have fought her then. I think I would win, but it would cost me a lot. I would be in Limbo where I can heal... maybe I never come back.." her hands bring the fingers between them up to her cheek, "I am never scared because I think she can beat me.. she cannot beat me. I scared because what if I win and I cannot every come back? So I run instead." Glancing up then, "I run to you."

Psylocke has posed:
"I know you don't leave on purpose," Betsy repeats, her tone remaining soothing as the back of her hand brushes Illyana's face, "I know you'll stay. I hope that you do."

The telepath's brow furrows as she considers the words. From what little she has glimpsed of Limbo, she knows wells enough that it is a strange place that she will likely never understand. The nature of Illyana's abilities make her experience one she can never truly comprehend properly, though she strains to try.

"Are you hungry?" she asks eventually, for lack of a better question.

Magik has posed:
Ilyana doesn't so much callapse against Betsy as she does lean heavily upon her. She's tired, it's been a long... half year.. and of course she's slept during that time, but it was sporadic at best. While she rules over Limbo, it is not so easily mullified when the Darkchylde is so close to taking control. They share strength there and the cat and mouse game was exhausting.

Illy glances up with a soft smile and a palm laid against the side of the telepath's cheek. "I am so hungry I could eat entire house of small donuts... you know the ones with lots of frosting on them, but are not being so good? From convenience store. Usually stale." Her voice is a little quiet, maybe a little distant, but she's trying to put the Butterflies mind at ease, since she cannot read the Demon Queen's thoughts.

"Spasibo, chto vsegda byl zdes' dlya menya..."

Psylocke has posed:
"The donuts that are that bright, septic yellow? Oh, yes, I know them well." A pause, "Well, not all that well but I've viewed them from afar once or twice. I'd certainly never eat one. I think we can find you something a little nicer than that."

As quick as a flash, Betsy's smartphone is out and she is looking through the menus of several nearby restaurants that do deliveries.

"I don't think we'll go out," she says quietly, "You look exhausted and I want you to climb in the bath and have a soak."

The words in Russian do not merit an immediate response from her, although she does respond in Russian of her own without even looking up from the phone: "Navsegda."

Magik has posed:
"Da!" Illyana hops up at the recognition of the specific, horrible, hate yourself after you consume them, donuts she's speaking about... she also immediately regrets the hoping and falls back on her butt upon the edge of the bed with a hand up to her head, "Wooa..." Blinking a few times to clear the cobwebs before trying to get up again, but with a little more caution paid to her exhausted body.

"You just wanting me to get naked." She says tiredly, already pulling off her shirt with the exact same lack of shame she's shown since the two have been together. She's still moody and dark, but allows herself to be a little less so in Betsy's company.

"I be in tub. I can use the expensive bubbles?" It's customery for her to ask, but she's going to do it anyways... Wiggling out of her ratty pajama bottoms as she disappears into the spacious bathroom where her voice echos a little. "Can we having Thai?" Peeking around the corner of the door with a small grin that betrays her body being nearly on empty.

The water is already running.

Psylocke has posed:
"Oh, definitely that's what I want," Betsy's Received Pronunciation is rife with sarcasm, even if it doesn't show in the more salacious set of her eyes, "I want to see the ratty girl who has been fighting demons in Hell for six months nude. I shan't be able to resist my base urges!"

That said, she nevertheless cranes her neck to watch the Russian undress with an appreciative raise of her eyebrows. As she retreats to the bathroom, the telepath reaches out a hand to strike her backside with the palm of her hand - grinning all the while.

"If you find inexpensive bubbles in there," Betsy says imperiously, "I'm going to fire the housekeeper. Use whatever you like, darling."

Her attention returns to her phone, looking up one of the nearby Thai places and flicking through the menu, "I'm having Gaeng Keow Wan Kai," she calls into the open bathroom door over the sound of rushing water, "Do you want that coconut pudding again?"

Magik has posed:
"I think I am looking pretty good for ratty /woman/ who is having been fighting demons in hell for six months." Illyana calls back with just the slightest bit of echoed humor in her voice at the correction she's made. She's standing infront of one of the mirrors, turning back and forth to look herself over in the reflection while the water heats up. "I am like animal magnitizing for you. Hard to resist all of dirt and demon blood caked onto me like packing earth."

There's a yelp from the bathroom when the telekinetic swat hits her backside, "HEY! You cheating!" Her head pokes back around the open door frame with squinty faced mock anger. Lips pursed, eyes all half closed, brow close, "You lucky I am being too tired or I am coming over there." She teases and disappears again to start going through which toiletries she's most partial to.

"oh, tea tree.. I liking this. It tingles." She says it to herself, but it's loud enough to echo and comes as she's stepping into the water with the quietest of little splashes. "Da, please? Can you get me Gai tom kha namsai too? I want soooooup.." Water splashing as she pours some down over her scalp and back before settling in to let herself simmer with a contented sigh.

Psylocke has posed:
"Soooooup," Betsy croons in return, smiling to herself as she puts through the order and looks at the expected delivery time with a frown.

"Bugger, they're swamped, apparently," she climbs to her feet, looking at the phone as she walks before she reaches the bathroom door and leans against the frame with her hip cocked out to the side, "Estimated fifty three minutes delivery time."

She watches the Russian in the bath for a moment longer, quiet save for the faintly grateful smile on her lips and in her violet eyes. One more glance is given to her phone before she tosses it over her shoulder to land on the bed, stepping into the bathroom proper.

"You missed a spot."