InsaneJournal

Day 17: 11pm
Who: Illyana Rasputin and OTA
What: Venting some anger.
Where: Just inside the forest, between the carnival and gas station.
When: Day 17, 11pm-ish
Rating: PG-13?
Status: Active.



No matter how she tried, Illyana couldn't get her thoughts to stop circling. Doug's death. Piotr's death. The rest of the X-Men dying. Now, Gambit dying, along with, from what she could gather, nine other people. What was the point of it? People died all the time; she knew this. Hell, she'd killed her fair share of people in her short life. But so much senseless death in such a short time was wreaking havoc on her already unbalanced psyche. She'd wandered aimlessly since the monitors went black, avoiding the rest of the town's inhabitants, except for notes in journals. She wasn't sure she was safe to be around. She felt the frustration building in her, and was afraid that if she actually ran into someone, she might end up lashing out and hurting them. And that, Illyana would not be able to live with.

However, the frustration built and built, and needed some sort of an outlet soon, or it would drive her mad. Helplessness was not a feeling that agreed with the young mutant. She had to do something. Her wandering, which was more like angry stalking, eventually brought her out to the edge of the woods. She froze in her tracks, staring at the darkened forest. A slow, wicked grin came to her lips. Trees. Who'd miss the trees? Harmless way to vent her frustrations, right? And maybe, it would get her noticed by the people she wanted to hurt. Because even though she'd just seen a fellow mutant die, Illyana felt confident in her own powers and sorcery to think it wouldn't happen to her. Teenaged immortality. Or stupidity.

She marched out into the woods, until she could no longer make out the road behind her. Then, she let her frustration and anger out in a long, loud scream. Screaming helped. It really did. But it didn't take away her desire to smash things. She summoned her armor and soulsword with a thought, and swung the blade at the trees. It passed through them as if they didn't exist, as she figured it would. It couldn't hurt things that weren't tainted with magic, after all. She let the sword clatter to the ground, and, with another scream, formed a small fireball in her hands and hurled it at the tree nearest to her. Her magic was weak here, like it was at home, but it was enough to leave a singe-mark on the tree, and Illyana grinned in satisfaction. Although she couldn't tell, her eyes flickered between their natural blue and demonic yellow. She could, however, feel the fangs and horns begin to grow from her jaw and head. She hurled another few little spells at the trees, reveling in the damage they did, imagining she was attacking the people who'd trapped her here, who'd killed all those people on the TVs today. She was completely absorbed in her own twisted catharsis.