InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Not in a life-affirming way"

Illyana Nicolievna Rasputina (ex_darkchyld899) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2010-06-19 21:32:00

Entry tags:

day 1: reboot, gregory house, illyana rasputin, location: cherry lane

Who: Illyana Rasputin and Dr. Gregory House
What: Waking up in Vas...again (not that 'Yana remembers what happened before)
When: 9 am, Vas Time
Where: 205 Cherry Lane
Rating: um...PG-13? I'll change it if we need to
Status: Active

So much screaming. So much chaos. But she could, she would stop it all. Fix everything. She was the Sorceress Supreme, and she would put an end to the horror that had taken over New York City, had held her friends hostage, had put Piotr in danger, just when she'd realized he was alive and safe again. She was better than the Darkchylde, better than her base instinct, better than what Belasco had made her. And she was sure as hell better than S'ym and N'Aistirth. And so, fighting her own demonic soul, Illyana Rasputin worked her magic for what she thought was the final time. She'd seal away Limbo, set everything to rights, save all her friends, and, if she was very, very lucky, she'd get her life back. All it would take was one final....

Her head was pounding. With a groan, Illyana reached up, clutching at her head, eyes still shut to the sunlight she could feel hitting her face. She ached. Whatever had hit her must have done a number on her.

The events of what she thought was a few moments ago came rushing back, causing her eyes to snap open. She blinked, looking around the bare room in which she found herself. She was curled up in the middle of the room, laying on a hard wooden floor. She rolled, causing her head to pound, and winced. Something was very, very wrong. She forced her eyes open again, taking a good look at her hands. Adult hands. Long, slender fingers, thin wrists. That wasn't right, shouldn't be right. Not with the spells she'd woven. She forced herself into a sitting position, ignoring the wave of nausea, and looked down at herself, shuddering. She still wore what she'd worn in Limbo, as the Darkchylde. Meaning, next to nothing. Had it not worked after all?

Turning toward the window, she noticed a small box. Warily, she hauled herself toward it, too dizzy to really walk just yet, and pried it open. An odd feeling of deja vu prickled her mind as she looked at the contents of the box, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out why. But, she was grateful for the tube socks she pulled out at first - her feet were bare, and cold. She hadn't needed shoes in Limbo, not with hooves. She wished she had something with pockets for the rest of the things, because whatever was going on, someone had left this stuff for her, and she wasn't about to question the anonymous person's good will. Use what you had. That's what Logan had taught her, before she'd ever become a mutant.

Logan. Kitty. Piotr. Dani, Rahne, Sam, 'Berto, 'Locke. Illyana forced herself to her feet, sliding just a bit with her very incongruous socks on the dusty wooden floor. Were they all right? Had she succeeded enough to make sure they'd be safe? Kitty had to be safe; she was in Scotland with Moira and Kurt. But Piotr....

Worry made her call out, panic over the safety of people she'd last seen bruised and twisted in New York. Training should have kept her quiet, at least till she'd gotten a handle on the situation, but the oddness of the place, the pounding in her head, and the fact that she still felt the Darkchylde's presence below the surface of her mind, in her soul, shoved rational thought from her mind. "Piotr? Piotr Nicoleivitch! Are you here? Answer me!" Hearing nothing, she grew more frantic, began shouting. "Dani? Sam? Piotr? Anyone?"

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vicodin_snark
2010-06-26 03:10 pm UTC (link)

[*kills email and phone OMG* ;_;]

House certainly wasn't happy, but there wasn't a malicious bone in his body. No, that was a lie. There were several malicious bones in his body but nothing that would cause permanent, physical harm to anyone. Mental harm, on the other hand, was fair game. It was simply that some people couldn't take his bedside manner. Not that he sought to make people's lives a living hell...

Oh wait.

Though he was yelling at air, Wilson (wherever the hell he was) was safe for the time being. House would find some way to get back at him. For now, he had to figure out how to stand and his leg was throbbing in pain.

"Who's there?" he echoed back, pulling himself into a sitting position. He swore under his breath when there was no furniture nearby and no cane. Brilliant. He was like a damned invalid. His leg hurt too much to put any weight on it and he sure as hell wasn't going to crawl. The voice was female, so may as well cop a feel as he stood up.

"Dunno who you are," he said, ignoring her question, "But come in here. I need to stand and my cane is missing."

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ex_darkchyld899
2010-06-26 05:24 pm UTC (link)

[*pats* 's okay]

The echo told her where the voice was coming from, and Illyana took a few steps down the hall toward the door. She was about to knock, just to make sure she was right, when the man's voice called again. She bristled at the order, but if he needed help, well, she'd never deny the Professor an arm to move from the car to his wheelchair, if he asked.

She pushed the door open and regarded the man sitting on the floor. Older, but not old, and in dire need of a shave. The 5 o'clock shadow would put the legendary Nick Fury's to shame. "My name's Illyana," she said, walking over to him. "Illyana Rasputin." She squatted down, ignoring the fact that she was giving him a pretty good view, she supposed, what with her bikini top barely covering anything. Body conscious, she was not. "What's gonna work best for you in terms of getting you on your feet?"

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