"Hunh?" I wake up. Which is kinda strange in itself, considering the fact
that I just had a sword plunged into my gut.
What's stranger yet, is the fact that I'm back in warrens old apartment. The one he sold when we split. I'm in a white king-sized bed in a white room with a spectacular view. I stare at it for a second, before realising that a strand of hair that fell onto my face but a moment ago is blonde. Not purple. Strange.
Strange.
I stare at her. Elisabeth Braddock. My Betsy. With the crimson dawn mark and a confused look. But...something nags at the edge of my mind. It...isn't her. I gave my life force up for her, but it isn't her. It isn't my Betsy.
It's Kwannon!
"Is something wrong, Archangel?" Gommur the ancient asks me.
Stephen Strange stands next to the infirmary bed, helping Kwannon get her balance.
"It...isn't her, ancient one. It isn't her."
How do I know this?
Strange.
I get out of the bed. I am attired in nothing. I walk over to a surprisingly large wardrobe in the corner of the room, next to the door.
I know I shouldn't just take clothes, but I'm sure Charles would reimburse the cost.
I get dressed in a navy blue skin-tight shirt and a black skirt that reaches halfway down my thighs. I place some black thigh-high boots on.
I glance at a tall mirror that is fixated to the wall on the other side of the door.
I smile. Dead and back again, yet still damned cute. I do a couple of poses, picturing my beloved Neal's face when he sees me. My blonde, wavy hair reaches down to my shoulders. I shan't ponder the details of my resurrection yet.
My blue eyes widen. Something caught them. A shadow melted into the shadows. I may not have the shadow powers anymore, but I can still recognise it.
"Hyah!" I whirl around, ready to face anything. I still remember the moves.
{SHINK} A blade is drawn. A ninja, clad in black, pours from the shadows and charges towards me.
I dodge and run to the door. No luck! I stop just short of the knife, so I try another approach. I spin on my heels and head towards the window. I can truly feel him behind me, even though he gives off no thoughts. I smash through the window as he gets a hold of my arm.
As we plummet down to the ground, I think, and wonder how I got brought back to life.
Strange.
What's stranger yet, is the fact that I'm back in warrens old apartment. The one he sold when we split. I'm in a white king-sized bed in a white room with a spectacular view. I stare at it for a second, before realising that a strand of hair that fell onto my face but a moment ago is blonde. Not purple. Strange.
Strange.
I stare at her. Elisabeth Braddock. My Betsy. With the crimson dawn mark and a confused look. But...something nags at the edge of my mind. It...isn't her. I gave my life force up for her, but it isn't her. It isn't my Betsy.
It's Kwannon!
"Is something wrong, Archangel?" Gommur the ancient asks me.
Stephen Strange stands next to the infirmary bed, helping Kwannon get her balance.
"It...isn't her, ancient one. It isn't her."
How do I know this?
Strange.
I get out of the bed. I am attired in nothing. I walk over to a surprisingly large wardrobe in the corner of the room, next to the door.
I know I shouldn't just take clothes, but I'm sure Charles would reimburse the cost.
I get dressed in a navy blue skin-tight shirt and a black skirt that reaches halfway down my thighs. I place some black thigh-high boots on.
I glance at a tall mirror that is fixated to the wall on the other side of the door.
I smile. Dead and back again, yet still damned cute. I do a couple of poses, picturing my beloved Neal's face when he sees me. My blonde, wavy hair reaches down to my shoulders. I shan't ponder the details of my resurrection yet.
My blue eyes widen. Something caught them. A shadow melted into the shadows. I may not have the shadow powers anymore, but I can still recognise it.
"Hyah!" I whirl around, ready to face anything. I still remember the moves.
{SHINK} A blade is drawn. A ninja, clad in black, pours from the shadows and charges towards me.
I dodge and run to the door. No luck! I stop just short of the knife, so I try another approach. I spin on my heels and head towards the window. I can truly feel him behind me, even though he gives off no thoughts. I smash through the window as he gets a hold of my arm.
As we plummet down to the ground, I think, and wonder how I got brought back to life.
Strange.