Illyana raises a shaking hand, trying a healing spell, but she's too drunk, the words come out wrong and her spell sputters into a red splotch in the air, popping dismally and dropping flecks of blood magick on the floor. The stream of Monet's blood flows into it, fizzing against the neutered spell like tonic poured into vodka. Illyana's stomach rumbles and she swallows bile.
"Monet, stop," begs Illyana. Monet doesn't seem to hear her.
"I can't get through," Monet explains, running the knife down her cheek. "My hands are wrong." How is she even cutting herself, isn't she practically invulnerable?
Illyana shakes her head, trying to stabilize, trying to force herself sober. Some of the wounds on Monet's face are already closing, her body rejecting the damage the way it rejects any imperfections.
Get it together, Illyana. "Give me the knife, babe," she says, reaching for it. Monet winces, then slashes the air between them.
Monet dives toward Illyana, snarling, eyes jagged, hungry. She passes through a stepping disc and Illyana drops to her knees. Illyana blinks, half surprised by her own action. Where did she just send that woman?
The stress, confusion, and fear bubble up, and Illyana vomits into the pool of drying blood and failed magick. "Oh, hell, how is there anything left," she slurs, wiping her mouth on the black sheet Monet left behind. It smells like expensive perfume and cheap vodka.
"Monet?" Illyana calls, stepping into Limbo - or what should be Limbo.
It is gray and empty and cracking at the edges, the scenery before her; her footsteps kick up huge clouds of dust like walking through something dead. The grim mountains and red hellscape seem to have crumbled to a flat, dry wasteland, the raging molten fury of Limbo devolved to an empty volcanic ash.
"Limbo reflects its ruler, baby!" cackles a rough voice from behind. "And baby, you're dead inside."
Illyana spins, wobbling in her stupor, but nothing is there. The voice is right, but even with its accelerated timeline, she's never seen Limbo change this much this rapidly.
Rubbing her eyes, Illyana tries to concentrate. This is my realm. Mine. I control it here. I have to. If I can just-
"You don't control shit and you know it," the voice shouts, echoing from the distance.
"Shut up!" Illyana screams at no one, drawing her soulsword. The ground underneath her rumbles. "You think you can do this to my realm? You think you can get in my head? You think you can play mind games here, of all places? I've ruled Limbo since I was a child! You are nothing!" Illyana pauses to burp and wipe her mouth with her sleeve. "Show yourself and I'll destroy you like I've destroyed every demon, invader, and god that ever raised a hand against me!" She points her sword at the horizon and slowly rotates, sword raised, eyes scanning the distance, feet stumbling. The voice only laughs.
Screaming in anger, Illyana plunges the soulsword into the ground in frustration. Usually the sword creates an haven of untainted ground in Limbo. Instead, the ground cracks open, dropping her below the earth and collapsing above her as she falls.
Illyana opens her mouth to scream and it fills with ash, Limbo falling apart around her like crushed charcoal, the ground swalloing her as the desiccated wasteland falls apart all around. As she tumbles through the darkness, she thrashes at the ash surrounding her, coating her hair and skin with grit. She can feel the magick that permeates the soil of Limbo flowing out of the ash as it cascades along with her. She can hear the walls of the pit breaking into chunks in a great avalanche.
"That's enough!" thunders the voice of the Darkchild. She pushes the ash from her with magical force, the dust fading as she plummets further and further into the dark.
"It's never enough," says a voice, different from before. Familiar, but not quite right.
Then Illyana hits the ground and ten tons of Limbo lands on her head.
Illyana is lying outside Xavier's, the summer sun heating her skin, the slow, sweet wind lightly brushing her bangs from her forehead. "Query: self-friend Illyana requires aid? Lifeglow indicates low heart rate."
"It means she's relaxing, 'Lock," laughs Doug from the swimming pool. "You should try it."
Illyana opens her eyes, watching as Warlock shifts into a submarine-shape to return fire as Doug Ramsey splashes his alien best friend with all the power a 14 year old dweeb can muster.
"You okay, Illyana?" asks Kitty, lounging in the pool chair beside her. Illyana smiles at her. She's so beautiful.
"Illyana?" She can't respond. Kitty stands, concerned. "Illyana, are you okay?"
Why can't she say anything?
"Illyana!?" Kitty is frantic, reaching out and grasping her head, shaking her. "Illyana, get up. I need you. Illyana!?"
She needs me. Illyana's eyes tear up in happiness, her sight blurring, and when it clears again Xavier's has faded and Monet is crouched over her. "Illyana you have to get up. I need you to get us out of here."
"What happened to Kitty?" Illyana croaks, coughing dusty chunks of Limbo from her throat, her head throbbing.
"She married her brother instead of you so you're sleeping with me instead of dealing with your feelings," says Monet.
Illyana's eyes go wide and she goes into a coughing fit.
"Just because I can't read your mind doesn't mean I can't see what's going on around me," says Monet, pulling Illyana from the mound of ash.
"Also you say her name in your sleep. Often."
"H-how did you even know where to find me?" Illyana manages to spit out between coughs. Just pretend she didn't say that, move on, don't think about it.
"It's very quiet here, you were choking very loudly, and I can hear very, very well." Monet brings Illyana to a sitting position. "Now get up, we have to leave. Something's here with us."
Don't think about it. Illyana blinks herself awake and looks around, calling her soulsword, its dim light illuminating the area. They're lying at the bottom of a deep, deep pit, the faded gray of this new Limbo's sky barely reaching them. A cavernous network of tunnels spread out in every direction.
"Mmmmmm..."
Illyana jumps at the noise. Something's here all right, and close. "Help me up."
Monet pulls her to standing and, ready to 'port them out, Illyana puts her arm around Monet's waist. Monet's bare waist.
"Wait, why are you naked?" she asks.
"Is this really the time?"
"That's why I'm asking!"
Monet puts her hand over her face. "Because I was sleeping! Now can we please get out of here."
"Mmmmmm..."
Illyana nods emphatically, eying the woman beside her. "You said it, creepy demon voice."
"IS THIS REALLY THE TIME?"
Illyana brings her stepping disc up around them, just as the voice continues.
"-mmmmiladyyyy..."
Oh, so that's it. Illyana stops the disc.
"OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" yells Monet, grabbing onto Illyana and flying up the pit.
"Wait wait wait wait wait," Illyana says, "it's fine, Monet."
Monet doesn't stop. "Absolutely not. There is a demon Redditor down there. And that might be the worst thing I have ever had to say," she says as the touch down on the pit's edge.
"It's okay, he just calls people that. I don't think he knows the connotations," Illyana explains while unsuccessfully trying not to stare at Monet's ass. Monet turns and smirks. "We're in Limbo," she continues, "and that's a demon called N'Astirh. He caused some trouble a while back so I lobotomized him a bit." At least that means something survived here.
"A demon causing trouble? Never," says Monet, putting a hand on her hip. Illyana is staring again. "My eyes are up here, Illyana."
Illyana raises her gaze.
Monet sighs. "Further up."
Illyana sits awkwardly on the edge of Monet's bed. "Don't you dare go anywhere," Monet had growled before her shower. That was 40 minutes ago. She's testing me. She's using her super-senses to know if I leave. She can smell me from the shower. Oh hell, I stink, don't I? Illyana sniffs the air and makes a disgusted face just as Monet steps out of the bathroom.
"Oh, you're still here?" she asks. Illyana glares. "Relax, I'm kidding."
Monet sits on the bed. "So."
Illyana nods. "So..."
"Are we going to talk about it?"
"Which It?"
Monet sighs. "I'm not sure."
Illyana looks up at the woman in her black silk pajamas, her hair wrapped in a thick black towel, her skin flawless and glistening. You'd never guess she was slashing deep gashes into her face earlier this morning while spouting gibberish.
Monet meets Illyana's gaze. "How about you start. I've been waiting long enough for you to talk about it."
Illyana grimaces. "Yeah. I guess you have." She sighs. It hurts to even start. Before she can even say a word she's sobbing. Get a hold of yourself. She throws a pained glance at Monet, desperate for comfort, but she only sits there, watching. She can't clearly see Monet's face through the tears.
After several minutes of sobbing and several dry heaves, Illyana begins.
"I... I've loved her so much for so long. Since I was a child. All that time in Limbo as Belasco's sla-" she stops, gasping for air through the sobs. "Belasco's student. Then she was my roommate and best friend. I couldn't say anything, I saw the way she looked at him - at Piotr. She'd tell me about it! She was- she was so clueless!" Illyana stops, feeling the heat of the Darkchild's rage. "I hated her for that," she says in a low voice.
Monet is silent.
Illyana closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "All those years I loved her and hated her. I hated myself more. And when she left me, when she rejected me, I killed myself."
At last Monet reacts, her eyes flashing concern, her hand reaching out. Illyana brushes it away. "Maybe I told myself at the time it was to, I don't know, save the world. Maybe I told myself that it was because Piotr was gone. Maybe I told myself it was the inevitable end of a life like mine. But it was just her, it was only ever her, her and the hate that I couldn't live with anymore.
"But the devil wasn't done with me. He brought me back. Brought me back wrong, incomplete. And Piotr, I saw him, and I didn't- I didn't think of my brother for an instant. I just thought 'I can't let Kitty see me like this,' and I put everything, everyone, the entire fucking dimension, at risk to get some part of me back so I could maybe, maybe, look Kitty Pryde in the eye." Illyana wipes her face with one hand.
"And I could finally talk to her again, and I made sure that we were together again, we were - we were going to change the world together. And I told myself that I was going to tell her, finally, but she runs off again, she leaves me, runs across the universe, finds another fucking Peter to fuck and she's gonna marry him and it kills me and- and then when she finally comes back- when she gets back, she's changed her mind, and I think it's finally over, and all I want is for things to be the way they were, for her to just be with me again, I don't even need her to love me back-"
Illyana pauses, exhausted. Monet says nothing.
"And then she marries my fucking brother, because that was all that was ever going to happen." Illyana looks at Monet. "And I know what you went through was worse. Hell, what I went through was worse. I see that, logically. And it's not even- I always knew it was going to be this way, I always knew I was too much of a coward to tell her anything, I knew she'd never just be my Illyana again, my- my roomie. But losing my soul was easier than losing her. The things I did to get it back, the murder, betraying my friends, watching them die, all of it was so, so much easier. And what does that say about me?"
Illyana finally stops, drained. Exhausted. She can't even cry anymore. She takes a deep breath, waiting for Monet to say something. She doesn't.