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Finally got around to writing up my S2 sheet. Let me know what you think; have added a few more potential characters too.


Staring down the Metahuman Supremacy Front with a gaze that would’ve rivaled Medusa herself, Illyana felt her heart crumble as she spotted the large group gathered towards the side of the room away from the costumed villains before her. Her eyes darted around the faces of the hostages, taking in each and every one of them. Her eyes fixated on that of a young boy. He must’ve only been around five or six. His tear-stained face was frozen in a state of disbelief from her sudden appearance, the gag in his mouth probably the only thing keeping him from screaming in both excitement and terror. The gunmen gathered around them had raised their rifles towards her. That was something at least. At least the prisoners now had a sliver of hope that they wouldn’t be shot.

The fear they were emoting pained her, yet she kept held her glare. She had to remain strong.

How could she be so stupid though?

Her mind raced.

How was she meant to take down both the mutant terrorists and their armed goons?

She moved her gaze to the terrorists. There were three of them here. The obviously named Forearm, the guy she’d already knocked down who she could only assume was Kamikaze, and the red vixen herself Burnout; her eyes tearing into Illyana’s own with an intent to kill. The information the guard had reluctantly told her at the mercy of the Flames of the Faltine seemed to have rung true, minus the inclusion of the innocents here. Now it was time for the real challenge.

As if by some miracle, Burnout of all people gave her a fighting chance.

“Hold your fire boys,” She warned, flashing her eyes towards the goons. “She’s mine.”
.
Illyana had barely a second to prepare herself before the Metahuman Supremacy Front were upon her. The largest of their group heaved his body towards her, leaping into the air with a mighty bound, all four of his muscular arms above his head in preparation for his strike. Yet despite the imminent threat of his strength breaking her in half, Magik held strong. Channeling the shield spell she’d performed earlier around the tip of her staff, she swung it forwards violently. The force sent Forearms flying as if a baseball being hit by a bat. As she watched the brute crash into a series of bookcases, a blur of red caught her attention in the corner of her eye.

As she turned towards the oncoming speedster, she found herself too late to dodge the sharp edge of the crimson blade scraping across his side. Pain seared through her body as she rolled backward, narrowly avoiding two more lunges that would’ve definitely found their target if she hadn’t moved.

“You some kind of Witch, Blondie?” Burnout jeered, lunging her gauntlet’s claws towards Magik’s throat.

The metal clanged loudly against the Soul Staff.

Illyana stayed silent.

She pivoted backward raising it once more to defend herself from the numerous slashes that followed. Burnout moved quickly, yet as Magik grew to learn, she was clumsy. Unsure of her powers. She may have known how to fight, but not with this newfound speed. All she had to do was wait for her to slip up. Which was easier said than done when combatting someone with super speed.

She moved backward, only to find herself attacked from a new angle as Burnout rushed around to her side in a flash. Illyana groaned as she went to parry, the continuous smiling on Burnout’s face doing nothing but angering her more. But as she moved, her foot slipped against the rubble beneath her feet. Tumbling backward, Illyana found herself falling from the balcony down onto the shelves below.

Free Falling for half a second, she snapped to attention, focussing into her staff which lifted her back upwards into the center of the room with a whoosh of air. Illyana watched as the joy dropped from Burnout’s face, forming a scowl. She wasn’t out of the woods yet, however.

A sharp hiss filled the air, as Kamikaze found his footing below. His body radiated with fiery energy as he took to the air, rocketing towards the sorceress like a torpedo.

He was moving with so much momentum that he couldn’t even stop at the sight of a stepping disc appearing in front of his target. Hitting the mutant energy, he vanished, only to materialize a second later. He’d only been moved a few feet, but it made all the difference. Appearing directly behind the blonde mutant, he shot up towards the balcony, finding a new target; Forearm, who’d been preparing to engage their attacker himself. The explosion rocked them both, shooting fireworks of red energy around the room as they were flung into unconsciousness.

“Oh, you absolute bitch.”

Illyana nearly began to gloat before the shout from Burnout took her attention away. The speedster had leaped through the air, and in a manner of seconds, she was on her. The blade sank into her side, clawing through both her clothes and then her skin. Illyana yelped loudly as she dropped to the floor. The metal of the blade had reached her ribs. She could do nothing more than cough and splutter, blood spilling from her wound and mouth.

How could she had been so stupid?

Her vision faded for a second. When it regained, the blade was gone, and the woman in red paced above her. Her body ached. Her side feeling as if she’d been torn apart. Burnout let out a laugh. Moving closer, she leaned down towards the broken witch. Using the bloody tip of her blade, she scraped it along Illyana’s chin, bringing it up to face her. Her ruby lipstick mirrored the blood that poured from her wounds. Her eyes were alive with the madness of a psychopath.

“Aw, so you really thought you could just burst in here and save the day?” Burnout jeered, a false sense of childlike innocence in her voice.

Illyana tried to tear her face away, her eyes falling on the boy from before. He was trembling. All hope was gone. He held to his mother’s hand as if his life depended on.

Burnout caught her gaze. Her voice shifted as she continued, growing colder.

“Get real, blondie. Like you ever had a chance.” She rose to her feet and turned towards the guards. Raising her arm, she pointed to the child’s mother, before calling out to the nearest guard. “Randall, now.”

The scream that escaped Illyana did nothing to muffle the ring of gunfire that echoed around the room.

Her voice slowly faded, breaking down into a series of broken sobs and croaks. Her eyes fell to the wood of the floor, broken. She didn’t care for the pain that flooded her body. It was already over.

“Do you want to know the best part?” Despite being nothing more than a whisper, Burnout’s voice cut through Illyana’s cries, silencing her. The villain was leaning over her once more, speaking quietly into her ear. “The whole world is going to blame those dirty mutants for this. And we’re going to get away scot-free.”

Her laughter radiated. It made Illyana furious.

Back in Limbo, Belasco cared not for the magics of mankind. He used his own instead. A home-brew blend of black magic; filled with hate. Filled with all manners of hate and anger. Filled with pain. He channels the edge of eternity. Perverting it. Giving it permission to spread like a virus.

That hate. That energy of pain. That was the force that erupted from Magik’s cold body as she lay there on the ground. It erupted in a fury of blackened smoke, with the spirits of those that had perished in the carnage today radiating through it. The force lifted her to her feet, returning the blood and guts that had spilled out back to its rightful place as her wound sealed.

As the darkness cleared, Magik found all weapons in the room pointed at her. The guards moved slowly, their eyes wide and scared. Burnout was no exception. The smile was gone now. Instead, she gasped in disbelief.

Magik looked down at her Soul Staff. The staff was a tangible extension of her soul. Its form was what came most naturally to her. Back when she had first called it into being, all she needed was a tool. A way of focussing her abilities. But not anymore.

Now she needed a weapon.

The sword that formed in her hand was black and elegant just like its former counterpart. A blade of energy ran like fire from the hilt, glowing a deep blue as it radiated with power.

Ignoring the shouts and threats from the guards she took a step forward.

You had a chance. Now it’s time for you to feel your souls bleed.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
M A G I K


I L L Y A N A R A S P U T I N A E X - D A U G H T E R O F B E L A S C O E X - W A R D O F T H E S O R C E R O R S U P R E M E M U T A N T
C O N T I N U I N G C O N C E P T:


"For many years a man named Belasco tried to bury me. But I demanded to grow."

Raised and tortured as a child in the hellscape of Limbo by the demonic Sorceror Belasco, Illyana Rasputina finally found a home with the Sorceror Supreme, Doctor Stephen Strange. Becoming his ward, she turned her Soul Sword into a staff and sought to change her ways.

However, her torture continued to haunt her, and as such, she decided to finally get revenge once and for all. To do so, she sought to form a group of fellow members of the magical community in order to assist her in her quest. In doing so, she found herself pushed to her limits, encountering a number of foes, both new and old. The news of Belasco finding himself a new "Apprentice" rocked her to her core, leading her to finally redraw her sword once more.

The coming months became tough for Illyana, who found herself clashing against her mentor more and more. Despite his good intentions, Illyana felt herself pulling away from his teachings. Then, in the dead of the night, she left, intent on finding her own way.

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:

After discovering from the Demons Three that Belasco has a new prisoner in Limbo, Illyana is now motivated more than ever to make her way back into that hellscape and take him out once and for all. She also finds herself battling to control the anger and pain that churns inside her, brought into being in the form of her Soul Sword. She is taking strives to fight in two battles; one physical, and one mental. These battles led to Illyana clashing heavily against the ideals of her mentor, concluding with her striving to find Belasco on her own.

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

♦ Doctor Stephen Strange
The current Sorcerer Supreme, Strange became a surrogate father and teacher to Illyana after her time in Limbo, helping her hone her magical abilities.

-
♦ Wong
Doctor Strange's loyal assistant, Wong runs and cares for the Sanctum Sanctorum. This loyalty extended to Illyana once she made the Sanctum her home, and in time a friendship between the two blossomed.

-
♦ Ragman
Rory Regan is a Jewish vigilante in Gotham City who wears the mystical Suit of Souls. Rory has vowed to help Magik in her fight against Limbo, with him and Magik becoming close friends.

-
♦ Belasco
A being of pure hate, Belasco is the ruler of Limbo and the being who trapped Illyana there for the majority of her childhood.

-
♦ The Demons Three
Led by the vicious S'ym, the Demons Three are Belasco's chief enforcers in Limbo. They acted as Illyana's "guards" during her capture; torturing her regularly.

-
♦ Piotr Rasputin
Illyana hasn't seen her brother Piotr since she was taken to Limbo.

-
♦ Rahne Sinclair AKA Wolfsbane
A Scottish mutant with the supernatural ability to turn herself into a werewolf-like creature.

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♦ Danielle "Dani" Moonstar
A mutant able to manifest people's fears or desires as realistic illusions, Dani finds her and her family hunted by a demonic creature.

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♦ Douglas Ramsey AKA Cypher
A young mutant with the ability to decypher any language he comes into contact with. He is currently assisting Dr. MacTaggert with her research.

-
♦ Dr. Moira MacTaggert
An expert in the field of genetics and mutation, Dr. MacTaggert has recently begun research on a series of mutated plantlife.

S Y N O P S I S S O F A R:

Vowing revenge on her former captor, Belasco, Illyana Rasputin sought out members of the magical community in an attempt at raising an armry against Limbo. Her search led her to the Ragman, and his suit of souls. After assisting the Gotham vigilante with stopping a mystical being named Master Belaric Marcosa, Ragman agreed to join her. The two met with another potential recruit; the Canterbury Cricket, however, that just led to further peril. Just as he was trying to convince Illyana that she wasn't the blame for the bad things that had happened to her, he was slain by the Demon S'ym, one of Illyana's former captors back in Limbo.

After fending off S'ym and the rest of the Demon's Three, Illyana discovered that Belasco had kidnapped another mortal, trapping them in Limbo just as she had been. Before she had the opportunity to process this news, the United States of America was rocked by a vicious terrorist act led by the Metahuman Supremacy Front. Doctor Strange sent her to look over Star City whilst he helped handle the crisis within New York, leading to Magik confront members of the M.S.F. alone. The group brought her to her breaking point once they began to kill hostages, leading to her transforming her Soul Staff back into the Sword she had wielded down in Limbo. With the assistance of the local hero Green Arrow, they took down the terrorist group's presence within the city, stopping the crisis from worsening.

The morning after the attack, Illyana confessed to Strange about her plan to kill Belasco during an emotional conversation, leading to him walking away disappointed in his ward.

Illyana found herself battling to control the anger and pain that churned inside her during the weeks that followed. Sadly she succumbed to these feelings during an adventure where she brutally killed a group of fleeing enemies. Following the event, an argument broke out between her and Strange, leading to Illyana finally deciding to go her own way...

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

S E A S O N O N E:

S E A S O N T W O:

Same as before, this section is for a list of hyperlinks to your ongoing IC posts as they're created.

A sharp screech cut loudly through the library as Kristine Calverly moved the whetstone over the claws of her gauntlets. The noise was the only sound to be heard from within the Star City Public Library, bar the occasional chime of the servers stacked in the centre of the room or the occasional shrieks from the streets beyond its walls. She merely let out a menacing smirk as her four-armed compatriot Michael McCain flashed a scowl in her direction, before returning his gaze back towards the monitor.

The sight of the muscle clad behemoth pouring over the computers bemused her greatly, a fact she made no attempt to hide. The look of fear on his face as he watched the battle of New York on the machine’s monitors merely added to the smile on her face. For a man who went by Forearm you think he’d be used to the horrifying appearances of the mutants that flashed across the screen, yet here he stood like a whimpering baby, clutching his extra pair of limbs as if they would fall off at a moments notice. Kristine couldn’t entirely blame him for his fear. The blue-furred demon that jumped about the screen was enough to make any man’s skin crawl. But that was why they were here; to put an end to the scourge of their kind.

She watched as Forearm reached into his pocket, producing a pill bottle. The pills inside rattled frantically as he poured a number into his hand, before shoving them down his throat with a large gulp. After a few seconds, his body stopped fidgeting, his artificial arms growing more relaxed as the painkillers did their job. The experiments had had an effect on all of them, Michael more than the rest. She looked down at her own hand, her palm the only part exposed from the ragged claws she wore. Her veins pulsated vividly, a deep purple from the Velocity 9 that gave her her abilities. Sure the enhancer gave her speed, but the pain it gave her, as a result, was worse than her cramps. It was a pain she had chosen though. It would all be worth it in the end.

“Has the Grell tower regained contact again?”

Haruo’s voice called from the balcony above them. He spoke sharply in an authoritative manner, his eyes unmoving from the tablet in his hands. He looked almost fearsome in his suit of red and white, the visor covering his face making him appear just like one of the mutants she’d previously spotted on the news. He played the part well, although for Kristine it was often hard to see where Haruo ended and the Kamikaze began.

McCain gave a questioning look to the central monitor which displayed a series of flashing lights over a wireframe map of the city. He shook his head with irritation.

“Nope, and no contact from the squad there either.”

“The new Robin Hood?” Kristine asked if only to stop herself from making a comment at the pissed off expression on both of her teammate’s faces.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Michael said, rubbing his chin with one of his multiple arms. “Looks like some crazy blonde chick just whooshed through and beat the crap out of them.”

The news brought a smile to Burnout’s face, her gaze running alongside the edge of her blades.

“Perfect. A new wannabe hero for us to gut then.”

Haruo’s stern voice cut her off, as he moved around the balcony above until he backed a large bay window that looked out over the city.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up Burnout.” He jeered, oblivious to the skyline darkening behind him. “It would take a miracle for anyone to find us here.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the window behind him exploded with a mass of sickly black energy, as if to mock him for his naivety The blast took out a large portion of the upstairs wall, with debris and broken glass scattering everywhere. Kamikaze followed suit, his body plummeting to the ground floor like a ragdoll.

And then, just as quickly as the explosion came, it was gone, replaced by the visage of a young woman. She stood menacingly on the remains of the balcony before them, the sleek black staff in her hand radiating with a poisonous energy. Her hair was a mess of blonde, with her now scruffy fringe covering the entirety of her forehead. Her clothes followed suit; torn and ragged, the rock band logo on her shirt unreadable due to the splatters of blood and the tears that cut through it.

Her eyes were alive with all of the fury and anger that the hordes were fighting with outside. All of the fury of Hell.

Burnout locked eyes with the newcomer, brandishing her claws dramatically.

“Finally.” She uttered, gritting her teeth with a murderous joy.
With this post done, I'll be spending this next week getting my assignment done. Hopefully, I can finish it by Friday so I'll have next weekend to continue on here. Magik is about to make the MLF her bitch.

Soaring through the streets of Star City, Magik wished she’d been visiting this city under better circumstances. Normally it was beautiful compared to places like Gotham, with lush greenery and scenic architecture. Now it was a hellscape. She watched as the people on the ground below her tore each other apart. The sight only made her more determined. She had to stop this. She had to help.

Illyana’s goal was clear. Find somewhere safe and perform the protective incantation that Strange had taught her. It seemed simple enough at first glance, but when the city was a warzone, it understandably became a lot harder than it had been when she’d been practicing the spell all those weeks ago tucked away in the Sanctum Sanctorum. Strange had made the task look so easy back in New York. The work of a true Sorcerer Supreme. Sure, she was a capable sorceress herself, but she was nothing compared to him. For incantations like this, she needed spell components. A supply of raw magical energy. And if Illyana was correct, there was only one place in this city where she could find such power.

The Grell Museum sat in the heart of the city, having been constructed when the city was first formed. It was said to house a number of magical relics from throughout the ages: Old tapestries describing ancient wars, and artifacts from supposed sorcerers of old. The general public refused to believe the legitimacy of these items, but Strange knew them all to be true. He had even promised to take Illyana there at one point. Illyana had been looking forward to that day. Now it seemed she’d be going alone.

It didn’t take long for her to near the Grell Museum plaza, however, the constant battle against the city’s inhabitants drained her throughout her journey. There were just so many of them, their numbers seeming to almost mirror the metallic looking swarms that had caused this mess in the first place.

She could barely concentrate as she flew into the plaza, which proved to be a grave mistake as the raging sound of gunfire pierced the air around her. Her arm erupted into pain as if a fire had just entered her body. Falling to the ground and skidding painfully across the concrete of the pavement, she barely had enough time to throw her hands above her head and throw a shield around herself before a further round of gunfire rained down upon her. The bullets ricocheted against the sapphire dome that materialized around her, each impact echoing the sound of breaking glass.

Her breathing heavied as she struggled to maintain her focus on the shield, the pain of the gunshot wound in her right should screaming into her mind, attempting to pull her away. Gritting her teeth, she took in the gunmen before her, her vision slightly hazing.

There were about seven of them, all clad in black militaristic uniforms. They stood in a line like a firing squad, their weapons continuously pelting her shield with bullets. The sight shocked her at first, with her believing them to simply be another group amongst the rampaging citizens, however, she quickly realized what was happening as she took in what was behind them.

The obsidian tower the soldiers were protecting looked just like the one from the hijacked broadcast; tall and imposing, the black phallic hunk of metal towered over the group. It cut triumphantly out of the ground at the foot of the museum’s front steps, contrasting greatly against the pale stone.

She cursed under her breath. She should’ve checked the locations of the towers beforehand. There just had to be one where she was heading. Now she would have to get her hands dirty.

Moving one hand down from the underside of the shield, she brought it to her face. Breathing out deeply, a thick black smog emerged from her mouth, forming a smokey sphere in the palm of her hand. It sat there whirling around for several seconds before Illyana tossed it forwards. It didn’t come close to hitting the guards, landing a mere few metres in front of her, however as soon as it hit the ground, the smoke surged forward. The Mists of Munnopor slithered across the ground towards the soldiers who reared back in confusion as the ghostly serpent encapsulated them, forming a thick cloud of black sickly smoke around them. They shouted in confusion, aiming their weapons around them in fear.

None of them noticed the disappearance of the small dome they had just been firing at, nor the brief flash of yellow that followed it.

They readied themselves, circling together.

And then the smoke cleared, and Magik stood in the centre of them.

Boo”. She uttered with a smile.

Gunfire rang out as she darted forwards, her staff sweeping out the feet of one of the men. Moving her body down, she brought her staff back around, slamming it upwards into a second, sending both him and his weapon flying. Still, she continued. One moment she was at the firing end of one of the men’s rifles, the next her staff was at his neck. Sure there were many of them, but she was nimble. Quick. Strange may have taught her her magics, but Limbo has taught her to survive.

Now she was too close for them to fire safety. Instead, they attempted to strike her with their guns like makeshift clubs. When their strikes neared she arched her back as far as it could bend, dodging. She was still arching back when the next one came to attack, slamming their weapon down with such force. She threw herself to the side, rolling out of the group. They turned on her as she struggled to find her footing, however before they could gun her down, her eyes came alive in magic.

Rolling to her feet, she thrust her hands forward, bolts of energy rupturing out of them. They screamed in pain as the spell hit them, their armour seeming to melt, with blisters forming rapidly on the patches of skin that was visible under their now seared balaclavas. They huddled together, clutching their faces in some ill-fitted attempt to stop the burning.

Pushing off from her front leg, she leaped forward into the air, swinging her arms for momentum. Soaring over the ground, she once again found herself in the middle of them. However, before they could react, she slammed the butt of her Soul Staff into the ground, uttering the words of old in an icy tone.

Ikthalon

Frost rippled across the ground from where she’d struck it, growing exponentially. Ice burst from the ground around her, rapidly creeping up the legs of the soldiers. The ice entombed their bodies, bar their heads, trapping them like statues in various poses of incredible pain and disbelief.

She smirked. It was child's play.

She turned her back on the men and took a step towards her new target. Now up close, Illyana could take in the full view of the tower. She had to admit it was impressive. Yet even that would fall underneath her might.

Her hand moved forwards in front of her. With a simple wave, a stepping disc materialized before her, jutting through the middle of the toward, severing it in two. Sparks flew immediately, as the structure seemed to crumble slightly at where it had been severed. Then just as quickly as it had appeared, the yellow of the disc disappeared. And with it, went the upper half of the tower.

The guard’s gasps at the disappearance were immediately turned into cries of horror as the upper portion appeared once more, this time around ten feet lower. Shards of metal erupted everywhere as the tower sections appeared within one another, combusting outwards. A surge of electrical energy pulsed through the skyline above the plaza, showering the area in a rainbow of colours. The destruction was almost beautiful.

Illyana simply watched. However, after a few seconds, the silence was broken.

“What in God’s name are you?” One of the soldiers cried out from where he stood frozen behind her.

Turning towards him, Illyana saw the fear in his eyes. The sight bemused her. He had the right to be scared. He shifted uncomfortably as Illyana marched towards him, gulping once she stopped right in front of his frozen figure. With one quick jab from the hilt of the staff, the ice entrapping him crumbled, releasing the man back into her fury. He fell to the ground, his breathing growing rapid.

I’m vone of the mutants whose rights you claim to fight for.” Magik declared, pulling the man to his feet by the scruff of his armour’s neck. “And you’re going to help me end this, vonce and for all.

Uttering a single word, Magik drifted upwards into the sky. Her blonde hair blew gracefully behind her as her Soul Staff moved her forwards. The higher she got, the more she could make out the surrounding area and see what was happening. The mystical dome encapsulating them was actually a lot smaller than it had first appeared glance, with the shining blue energy spanning just a few blocks. Its circumference seemed to tear through Washington Square Park like a jagged scar, turning Garibaldi Plaza into a rubbled mess.

That wasn’t the most interesting thing about the remains of the park, however. Just within the dome sat the remains of one of the obsidian coloured obilists that had started this whole ordeal. It jutted crazily out of the ground, a mess of warped colours and jagged edges as if the dimensions around it had been turned inside out. That was certainly one way to deal with them.

Strange smiled at the look on her face as she approached where he sat floating above the streets.

I see you’re a fan of my handiwork.” He jested, motioning for her to sit opposite him.

She scoffed mockingly.

Vit’s no Naum Gabo but you have potential.

He merely chuckled in response. Joking was easy with Strange. It helped. Especially with everything that had happened today.

Moving in front of him, Illyana sad down into the air, crossing her legs in front of her. She took a breath as she did so, as was the norm, however things just felt different. It was too hard to clear her mind. There was too much noise. The sound of S’ym blade. The thud of the Canterbury’s Cricket’s corpse hitting the table. S’yms words. And now the sounds of the innocent tearing themselves apart. She had no clue how Strange was staying so calm right now. She glanced up at him, and watched as he surveyed the city outside of the dome.

She followed his gaze, catching sight of a flick of blue, rocketing through the sky into Central Park like a speeding bullet. The supers were coming.

As wild as it seems, I feel I have things covered here for the most part.” Strange explained calmly, turning back towards Illyana.

She raised an eyebrow in confusion. That was certainly not how it seemed right now.

Ignoring the inquisitive look on her face, he continued.

I need you over in Star City. The magical defenses there are... Lacking. And the last I'd heard their Emerald Archer had vacated the city. They don’t have the kind of force that New York has.

She simply nodded in silence, as if in another one of his lessons.

Find somewhere safe and prepare the incantations we went over last week. Remember your pronunciations. We don't want another repeat of the island.

The words cut against. Another hit of guilt from their “field trip”. He’d taken her to a remote island in the Bahamas a few months ago in an attempt to help stimulate her magical abilities. He thought a change of scenery from the Sanctum would help calm her. It didn’t. It had simply resulted in nearly half of the Island’s wildlife being burnt away. Another day of damnation for Illyana. Another one of many.

She continued her silence as she floated back to her feet.

I’ve got it.” Her words were almost a whisper as she drifted away. Her hands trembled around the hilt of her staff as she raised tried to focus herself.

Before she could summon a stepping disc, however, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She shook at the touch in confusion, before turning back towards her teacher. He stood in the air before her, a concerned look on his face. Gone was the power and fury of the Sorcerer Supreme. Now there was only Stephen Strange; her friend.

Ilyana. What’s wrong?” His voice was kind. Comforting. Regardless, Illyana shied away from the question.

I’m fine.

Lie.

He smirked slightly.

I mean, your mascara is literally running across your entire face right now. You're definitely not fine.

Panicking, her hand went to her face, where she rubbed profusely. Confirming Strange’s statement, her hand returned stained with a mixture of black and blue makeup. Her breathing increased slightly, as she attempted to wipe it away after wetting her hand. How stupid must she look right now? How weak?

If you're not up for this, you can say no. I won't hold this against you Illyana.” He continued, trying to be nice. But Illyana could hear the pity in his voice.

He thought her weak. At the thought, she seized up slightly for a second.

No. This wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t going to just sit back anymore while other people suffered. She was going to do something. She was going to fight back. She wasn’t a monster.

With one last wipe of her eyes, she tried to stand tall. She wasn’t weak. She was going to do this.

I’m fine.” She confirmed. This time she meant it. Her voice no longer held the pain it had moments ago. Now it held strength. Now it held determination.

Stephen nodded, somewhat understandable. Squeezing her shoulder to comfort her once more, he drifted backward, before glancing back over to the outside of the protective bubble, where another group of infected could be seen charging in their direction. Facing Illyana one last time, he gave her one last smile.

Once this is all over, let's have a chat, ok?

She managed a smile herself, giving Strange a short wave as his crimson cloak whisked him down towards the action.

She could do this. She was not a monster.

She took a deep breath, before summoning a stepping disc beneath her feet.
I'd personally go with #2 as well, due to the reasons listed above. Either way, like Hound said, I'll be updating my sheet with details on season 1, as well as an updated supporting cast.

Holy…

It was Rory that broke the silence first. The unlikely duo had been amongst the wreckage of the English pub for some time now. Long enough for Illyana’s tears to come to an end and for her to rise.

She had been tending to the body of the Canterbury Cricket, doing her best to avoid the gruesome mess where he’d been split down the middle. She had located a tablecloth from behind what little remained of the bar and had placed it over him ceremoniously. She hadn’t known the creature for long at all, yet he had wanted to help her. A decision that cost him his life. S’ym would pay for what he had done. But now was a time for mourning.

Rory had been watching in silence, both out of respect for the fallen, and out of pain. He’d offered to help at first, but Illyana had simply told him that she had to do this alone. As such he simply kept where he was slumped up against a wall. Until now anyway.

Illyana turned towards him and saw that his gaze was no longer on her, but directed towards one of the dusty old television screens that hung near the bar. She was a little taken aback that it had survived the carnage that had taken place here, however what surprised her more was what it was showing. A news broadcast from America showcasing a man in a metal mask;



Her blood boiled as she listened to the man's speech. She never felt such shame about being a metahuman. About being a mutant. It was a side to her that she didn’t really think about much, given what had happened to her. However, as she looked on at the silver madman on the television, she just wished she’d done more. That’s what she wanted to do now.

But a thought held her back.

Belasco has a new pet to play with.

S’ym’s words filled her mind and they made her sick. Her mind began to race through all the possibilities. Who they were. Where he’d taken them from. How were they? That had to be her priority. This mutant terrorist couldn’t be her concern. Besides, the world had other heroes. Wonder Woman. The Spider guy. Hell, even Batman was supposedly back. They could surely be enough to handle whatever was happening/.

Then the metallic swarm began to fill the screen as an image of Central Park appeared before them. Her heart sank further. All those innocent lives. She watched in terror as a young girl ran in fear from her mother, who chased her like a ravenous tiger. No. There was no point in rescuing this child in Limbo if there wasn’t a world worth bringing them back to. The words that Rory said next was the confirmation that she needed.

We have to do something.” He wheezed with determination as he struggled to find his feet. His movements were rigid as he moved, with him stumbling slightly from the pain of his arm. She frowned at the sight, taking a second to glance back towards the body of the Cricket. Rory couldn’t help her. She wasn’t losing anyone else today.

No, I have to do something.” She stated boldly. “You’re not going anyvhere with vhat arm.

Rory gawked at her in confusion, before gesturing to his arm, which he attempted to move.

C’mon, I’m fine. We have to— ackk.” He let out a cry of pain, as he crumbled downwards. His spare arm went to support himself. Despite how he tried to recover and keep a straight face through the pain, Illyana knew that he was done today.

I’m sorry. I’m sending you home.

She couldn’t even face him as she pointed her arm towards him, summoning a stepping disc. As much as the words stung, she ignored his cries. The room grew silent as he disappeared; the body of the Cricket vanishing with him.

Taking one last look towards the unconscious body of Rath, who was still buried underneath the wreckage of the bar, Illyana Rasputina summoned a stepping disc once more, whisking herself away.

As she appeared in the streets of Manhattan, Illyana found herself in what could only be described as a warzone. Screams and shouts echoed around her, as Magik navigation through a sea of burnt out cars and bodies. People charged frantically around her; some scared for their lives, while others with a lust for blood, clearly infected by the swarm.

Magik reacted swiftly as one such infected made its way towards her. Her Soul Staff appeared within her hand as she swung low, taking the individual out by its legs. As they catapulted to the floor, she jabbed downwards with the butt of the staff for continuing onwards. The next few infected men and women that came towards her fell to the ground in similar ways, however as more and more kept coming it was clear to Illyana that she wasn’t even making a dent.

She moved backward, sending out a cone of frost from her hands to slow down the approaching horde, an icy incantation escaping her lips.

There were too many. She needed help. She needed to get back to the Sanctum.

A stepping disc appeared beneath her feet to teleport herself away, however, once she had arrived, Illyana found herself emerging into a much different New York than she had been in before. Around her were the all-so-familiar streets of Greenwich Village, however, the brownstones were now flooded with a tinge of blue. The sky around her seemed to follow suit, and as she stared, Illyana seemed to spot its source; a dark blue bubble seemed to encapsulate the surrounding area, spreading its magical light down onto the streets below.

Illyana’s eyes stared around her, shocked at the sight of refugees from the rest of the city resting against the stationary New York taxis, tending to their wounds and just being thankful for being alive. A smile spread across Illyana’s face as she realized what was happening. It was a safe zone; free from the terror of the battles currently being faced out in the rest of Manhattan.

Ah Illyana, I was wondering where you’d gotten to.” A calm voice called out from above.

She knew exactly who was the cause of this even before she laid eyes on the billowing cloak of scarlet that floated above them miraculously.

Doctor Stephen Strange was an imposing presence in the New York skyline. He sat in the air, his legs crossed in front of him, reminding Magik of their frequent lessons in meditation. Despite the wrinkles that were beginning to coat his face and the flakes of grey littered throughout his hair, he radiated power, with mystical energy flowing around his body. With each breath the bubble above seemed to grow slightly brighter in colour, growing closer to the shade of the deep blue robes Strange wore.

Be a darling and come give me a hand.” He smiled boldly before waving for Magik to join him.
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