No Ruby Slippers left

October 07, 2016:

Magik can't find her way home and goes to the 'Wizard of Oz' for help.

The Sanctum Santorum

From the white marble floor to the artistically painted domed ceiling, everything about this foyer expresses opulence. Two wide curving staircases balustrade with filigreed wrought iron skirt the east and west walls of the oval shaped room, leading to an expansive mezzanine. Elaborate sconce trimming marks the point where the walls meet the ceiling, decoratively illuminated with hidden candles casting a bright golden glow throughout the room. Light beige marble pillars border the square archways leading north, east and west to other parts of the suite. On either side of the entrance are two large golden urns housing meticulously kept white roses.

Characters

NPCs: Wong

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

It's been a few days now since Illyana has revealed to a select few that she's not the original. So far, it's gone good, she expects later it may not.

It'll be completely dependent upon the person she encounters.

Either way, while Illyana will help this particular reality to her best ability, that doesn't stop her from continuing to try and return home. The last spell she tried was disastrous and it was only by her being in Limbo that she survived /that/ particular encounter. "I need help." She finally says, those words murmured to herself and no one else. She looked to the counterparts of this world from her own, and when she found a suitable candidate she left Limbo.

While she would have loved to pop in unannounced (because she loves doing that, seriously), she didn't. Or rather couldn't. The wards around the Sanctum Santorum are too strong and so, the portal that swept Illy out of Limbo deposits her upon Doctor Strange's doorstep. She'll raise a slim hand upward and knock three times upon the door. Then she waits. Idly her hands will slip into her pockets as she turns her attention to looking about herself.


About thirty seconds later the door opens. A slight oriental man in his late 30s looks at the blonde sorceress and nods, as if recognizing her. "Please, come in." He has some accent, "I am Wong, Doctor Strange assistant. But the Doctor will meet with you momentarily."

Once through the doorway the illusion of normality fades, the house is enchanted and alive in the odd way magical places feel (are?) alive. Somewhere ahead two rooms are switching places in defiance to the laws of physics, space stretching like a rubber band. The living room where Wong leads Illyana feels fairly stable, but still larger it should be given the positions of the windows in the front side of the building.

But Doctor Strange does appear even before Wong can ask Illyana about tea or coffee. "Good morning. Magik, isn't it? Welcome to my Sanctum, what can I do for you?"


As soon as the door opens, Illyana's wandering attention turns back to the door. At the sight of Wong, the demoness can't help but offer a faint quirk of a smile at him. His introduction is nodded at, exoected really, even as she offers her own greeting, "It's good to see some things don't change." And whether that confuses Wong or not (likely not since he's assistant to Doctor Strange) Illyana will follow him through the enchanted hallways.

While Illyana can sense the shifting of those two specific rooms so nearby, she doesn't seem to find it odd, or even disturbing. Limbo can do much the same thing, though perhaps, on a less grande scale. Once inside the living room, Illyana will automatically survey the room before she steps inside. Inside, Illyana's attention will be caught by the windows and already, the blonde moves towards them. She's just taking position beside them, so she can look out towards the lawns, when Doctor Strange appears. Pivoting upon foot slightly, Yana will turn slightly to face Doctor Strange and again, at his greeting, she can't help the faint tick of one corner of her mouth that goes upward. "Yes, Magik." She says with just the slightest hint of self-depricating humor, "That's me." But thankfully Doctor Strange gets right down to business and so, Illyana does as well.

"I have a problem. This isn't my world and I can't seem to find my way home. I'm hoping you can help and in doing so, return the Magik of this realm."


It fact Wong had never met Illyana before. Neither had Strange, not even when both where members of Justice League Alliance. But it was (still is) a very large group and Strange knows some of the members just by name.

The nature of the problem makes him arch an eyebrow. Mostly because he knows Illyana controls a transit dimension and moving between worlds should be fairly easy for her. "Please, sit down and let me know the details. It doesn't sound like a minor problem."


At the offer of a seat, Illyana will do just that. Settling into one of the armchairs held within the room, the demoness will consider just how to begin the story. One supposes she could just start at the beginning, but Illyana isn't always logical. "A spell went awry." She says, opening her story with the obvious. "I was attempting to influence my portal's reach back home. When I awoke after I triggered the spell, I found myself still in Limbo -" She gives him a look to make sure he follows, since he may not know the same things her world's Strange did-does. "- At first I thought I had just been knocked unconscious because of the scope and power of the spell, but it soon became apparent I was no longer in my reality."

Her gaze will flick around the room when she says that, as if looking for the changes held within her. Eventually her gaze will return to the Elder magician. "Sadly, when I tried to recreate the spell I was unable to return. I've tried a dozen permutations of a 'there's no place like home' spell and nothing has panned out. It's somewhat frustrating."

And while her initial Wizard of Oz reference earns a faint smirk from her, that expression only widens slightly when she says the last. "I'm hoping you'll a pair of ruby slippers to help get me home." And return the original Magik to this particular reality is what's left unsaid.


“Certainly, any banishment spell would push you back into your native reality,” comments Strange, taking a seat in front of the blonde sorceress. “But obviously they failed to do so, which might mean a number of things. Perhaps you are being barred from returning, or perhaps anchored here by unearthly forces. Would you allow me to see you through the Eye of Agamotto?” Which is close to be a holy artifact. That is why he asks. The Eye is anathema to demons and doubly so to the Elder Gods.


"Certainly, it should have." She says, purposefully echoing that first word choice of Doctor Strange's assessment - another one of those quirky smiles lifts a corner of her mouth upward.
Still, there are more important things that are at currently at hand, as so, she returns her attention back to the Doctor. When he offers to use the Eye of Agamotto to help her case that causes the demoness to grow quite still. Her blue eyes will narrow ever so slightly as she considers Doctor Strange's proposal and while her proverbial hackles rise upward, she will offer a single nod.
"If you believe it will help, you may." She finally concedes, as she now moves to lean against the backrest of the seat she's currently occupying.


Strange nods, and stands up, touching the amulet around his neck. It breaks free from the chain holding it and hovers to stand over his right shoulder. “My apologies beforehand if this is unpleasant to you,” he offers as the eye opens. It is just in revealing mode, but the light of the eye is definitely unpleasant for Illyana. And her image seems to flicker several times as the Darkchilde appears as a ghostly shape around her. Strange frowns and concentrates further, “I can’t see any spell -on- you that could be linking you to this particular continuum. Perhaps it is set upon your Limbo, to keep you away.” Then again, he can’t find anything in her psychic signature to suggest she is not from Earth. Well, ‘half’ from Earth, she might belong more to Limbo right now.

The Eye shuts, floating back to its usual place. “Could this have been a psychic transference only? Not a bodily one. Usually I can see in the auras when someone is a foreign to reality. Those signs remain for years. Yet you bear none.”


That ghostly image of Darkchilde isn't idle, either, as Strange examines Illyana.
In fact, the Darkchilde silhouette crouches downward and springs forward, moving to attack Strange with claw-tipped fingers.

Illyana, who's been sitting quite still for the majority of the examination (even with the discomfort the Eye gives her) suddenly reaches out. That movement is enough to halt the Darkchilde's advance and while she struggles for a few seconds, eventually she settles back down, to hover like a menacing shadow around Yana's shoulders. It's only when the Eye shuts that the Darkchilde vanishes and with the Eye no longer peering into Illyana's soul, the blonde sorceress relaxes likewise. No it wasn't the worst pain ever, but it was irritating, to say the least.
With Strange's words, Yana frowns, "Nothing?" She asks rhetorically and even with that she'll consider his last words, as she drops her gaze to her hands. "Perhaps? I can't say. I have the same scars that I did in my own world, but things are different here." She'll drum her fingers upon an arm rest a moment, as she considers her next words. While she could ask further questions, she doesn't, instead she'll start to rise from her seat. "I find it disturbing that you can't see the way to my home. Nor see the remnants of it in myself."


Strange nods. He is puzzled himself. Not least of which by the fact Illyana came to see him for help. The Queen of Limbo he had heard about wouldn’t. She never did. But that might make sense if this ‘other’ Magik had dealings with her reality’s Strange.

It could also be a trap! Sorcerers are ever tricky people. But then the Eye would have been far more hostile. Maybe.

“Yes, quite. There are a couple more esoteric explanations we could explore. Let me think,” he moves away from the seats to look through the drawers of a desk on the corner. Said desk wasn’t there a few minutes ago.

He returns, with a deck of cards. “Pick a card, any card,” he offers with a flourish, allowing himself a small smile at the ‘stage magician’ talk.


The flourish of cards is given a look, but Illyana will play along, for now. Reaching out towards the deck, Illyana's fingers will hover over the nearest cards for a few seconds and then with a decisive movement the Queen of Limbo will pick a card.

With card between fingertips the demon sorceress will bring it back towards herself, moving in such a way to keep the face of the card from any prying eyes.

"Is this where you guess what card I'm holding? Let me look at it and think real hard for you." She says dryly, even as she looks down to said card, to see what she picked.


Strange folds the cards. “No need, you are holding the Justice.” And indeed, that is the Justice Tart card. With Magik’s picture on it. The doctor looks at Illyana thoughtfully. “And it means you are strongly linked to destiny. You are not in the right reality, Ms. Rasputin. Either your memory has been tampered with, or some portentous magic beyond my mortal understanding has been enacted.”


Justice. Isn't that the truth?

Even if sometimes the Justice is darker than what most people would enact.

At Strange's words, the blonde will tilt her head slightly to allow him the point of knowing what card she pulled. Even before she focused upon it.

The card itself will be palmed and tucked into the safety of a pocket, to be kept for later. "Serious words, Doctor." She says, as she rises from the chair she was settled in. "For you not to be able to divine what's going … Well, there's obviously a first for everything, right?" And while she offers that sarcastic little jab, the blonde demoness will add, "Thank you for trying. I fear I have to get back, no matter what reality I may be in, my friends have need of my skills. I'm sure we'll chat again." Of course, this would be the point where she'd HAPPILY teleport out, but sadly, today, she must walk.

And so she does.

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