Log: Amanda and Illyana, Thursday evening

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Illyana finally seeks Amanda out to see if she's suffered any side-effects from their jaunt to Limbo with Alison. Like evilness, for example. Set Thursday, before Amanda's locket is broken.


llyana sighed. She'd been trying to avoid this. In fact, full- fledged denial had ruled the day - well, many days, actually - in the intermittent period between when she'd woken up after their trip to Limbo and now, but it was time to put that aside and bite the bullet, or whatever expression meant "doing something one really did not look forward to doing". It was simple. It was her responsibility, or at least more her responsibility than anyone else's. And whether she liked it or not, there was no getting out of it.

She had to talk to Amanda Sefton.

Willingly.

Life was unfair, Illyana mused, sticking her head into the rec room to find it populated with people she didn't have to talk to. First you get grounded for no good reason, then you have to talk to someone who used to be convinced you were evil (although it might not have been far off) and had recently turned people green (ostensibly the reason for this little visit) . . . it was like the universe was trying to ruin her day.

The kitchen was next, and it was sheer luck that Illyana checked in there before continuing on - sheer bad luck, she might have said, but was distracted by virtue of finding Amanda. "Oh, hi," Illyana said straightforwardly, not bothering to try to be subtle. It wasn't her best talent. "I notice you're not that green anymore."

Amanda looked up from where she was cutting up carrot sticks and other bits of vegetable for Meggan snacks - she went through them at a gratifying rate. She flushed a little at the comment, not liking the reminder of her rather public mistake. "Um, yeah. Lucky it wasn't permanent like." She paused, not sure of what else to say - Illyana wasn't the idly social sort, and Amanda felt a little... odd, being around her. Mostly because she had no recollection of what they'd actually done to Alison in Limbo. "Did you, ah, want somethin'? T' eat? I think Bobby's left a new batch of ice cream in the freezer..."

"I just wanted a glass of water." This was mostly a lie, although Illyana, still unused to having all the clean water she wanted whenever she wanted it, never turned down a chance to drink some. As though to prove herself, she reached into a cupboard and went to the sink. "So you obviously figured out what happened. Any, um, any other side effects? Spells gone awry and all."

"Well, I don't actually remember..." The scar on her left hand itched, as if reminding her of just how much she didn't remember. "But it was sort of obvious, wasn't it? We go in with Alison nearly dead, we come out an' she's all better." That was still debateable, but Amanda was shying away from the thought that there was anything she should feel guilty about, especially in the wake of the fight with Strange. "As far as the rest goes... The magic's been... harder, lately. Not as easy t' control." It was a hard admission to make, especially to Illyana. "Things like the other day have been happenin' a lot more 'n usual." And she hadn't tried a major spell since that Saturday, a little afraid of just what might happen.

"Huh." Well, that cut to the chase. She'd only been asking about the turning-green thing, but if Amanda wanted to jump right in, Illyana certainly wasn't going to complain. It made her mission, such as it was, that much easier. She leaned against the counter, looking at Amanda critically, but the only thing different was the very slight green tinge in her hair. "Things going wrong? Like - turning people green? Or just . . . wrong." Leaving it open-ended, Illyana feigned consideration, taking a sip of the water for good measure. "I've heard of it happening, after a major working like that," she offered thoughtfully. Another lie. As far as she knew, this whole thing was unique. That was what was so damn aggravating about it. "Things taking a while to get back in sync. Maybe even go, you know - odd. If you take my meaning?"

"You sound like bloody Strange," Amanda muttered, before shaking her head, perhaps a little stubbornly. She could handle side effects, it was all part of the price of being able to do what she could do. "Thing's're just a bit off," she conceded. "But that could be a bunch of things. Stress, for one. I'll just cut back on the magic again, wait for things t' settle." Meeting Illyana's oh-so-not-really-considerate gaze, she added, perhaps a little defensively. "An' I won't be doin' anythin' around anyone else, so you don't need t' worry 'bout me hurtin' anyone you like."

Illyana resisted the urge to scowl at Amanda. Was this a conversation or psychotherapy? "Well, that's good," she said lightly, smiling a little to hide the way she was gritting her teeth. "But you're feeling all right? Not unwell or anything? Under the weather? Anything like that?"

Okay, this was getting a little worrisome. "Should I be?" Amanda asked, raising an eyebrow. "Limbo always gives me a headache, but I think we avoided the horror movie blood effects this time. An' like I said, I don't remember what happened. So you tell me - is there somethin' I should know about?" She held up her left hand, flipping it over to show the scar clearly marking both sides. "Like this?"

Illyana's patience snapped at about the same time as she brought her glass of water to rest firmly and loudly on the counter. "That," she said, with painfully clear enunciation, "is the result of a magic-killing sword getting stuck through your hand while you were so full of magic it was coming out your ears. But what I actually wanted to know was whether or not you've become evil, because I would hate to have to stab you again, and I have a feeling it might be frowned upon. So, you over-analysing dimwit, are you? Because much as I love our chats, this cannot continue or I will go insane." Her voice had risen fairly substantially by the end, and she pushed her hair out of her face in frustration; she continued at the same high speed she'd started at. "I don't care if you turn people green or make them think everything tastes like onions or push them in the lake, I just want to know that you're doing it because you're incompetent or petty or both, not because the magic in my hell dimension has somehow turned you into a raging psychopath or something with horns or tentacles or claws, okay?"

Amanda blinked at the outburst. And blinked again. It was probably the most Illyana had said to her in one burst, well, ever. Deliberately casually, she crossed her arms over her chest, and then, when she was sure Illyana was about to throw something at her, said: "You know, you could've just said that from the start, without all this bullshit dancin' around the topic." But before Illyana could throw something at her, or worse, yank out that sword of hers and add some more holes to her, she shook her head. "I don't think I've gone bad. The green thing was just a mistake, not anythin' deliberate on my part. I don't feel any different in that way, an' while I haven't done any healin' since, I'm pretty sure it's not 'cause I've gone all demonic on you." A very slight grin crossed her face. "Then again, would I be tellin' you I was evil if I was?" Okay, so maybe not the time for teasing, but consider it payback for many months of being convinced Illyana was evil herself.

"Which was exactly why I was trying to figure it out without asking," Illyana muttered, sounding and feeling slightly petulant. She favoured Amanda with a razor-sharp smile. "Anyway, it sounds like you're just yourself right now." Her tone implied, More's the pity, but at least she was back on steady, not-yelling ground. She wasn't about to admit that she had no idea what had gone on in Limbo that day, but she wanted to end this on a slightly less threatening-with-my-magic-sword kind of note. "So I'm reasonably assured that you're not going to start murdering people in their sleep, so I will sleep better and you can - " don't say, "stop worrying about getting stabbed with a magic sword for the benefit of humanity," Illyana, you moron - "er, do so as well."

"Fair enough," Amanda said, turning back to her chopping. "I won't kill people in their beds if you don't." Then, just as Illyana was about to leave, she added. "One more thing. Alison. All this.... it's not gunna do anything to her, is it? I was just the conduit like, but she's the one the power went into."

Illyana stilled at the door; it wasn't that the possibility of this hadn't occured to her, but rather than she was at a loss as to how to diagnose any such thing. People coming back from the dead - or near- dead - didn't make her feel warm and cozy inside, and ignoring the anxiety had proven itself a decent coping mechanism. "I don't know," she said simply, raising her shoulders. "Probably not. Magic is magic - mostly." Or it should be. "But what we did's never been done before. Not in the history of Limbo, for sure. Not in the history of the world, probably. So whether or not there are consequences - I don't know. If anything is wrong, it's being awfully slow to manifest itself, and it should have showed up by now." Her eyes were unusually distant, even for her. "So no, I don't think anything's gone wrong. Certainly we'd both have been pulled up by that irritating magic teacher of yours and interrogated if there was - and since he has been blissfully out of my hair, I'm inclined to think we managed to beat out the odds and escape the usual threefold backlash. Unless you've got anything better to go on."

Magic is magic. Not the most comforting of answers. "She seems all right - in that way, any way - t' me as well, but as long as we're both keepin' an eye out for anythin' odd, well, we'll deal with any of it when we need to." She paused, and the confessed. "Strange won't be gettin' in either of our hair," she said quietly, concentrating on her chopping. "He's gone." Let Illyana react to that as she would.

"But where will we find another self-righteous busybody? Oh . . . wait. We live here." Illyana made a short gesture at the general vicinity that meant they could find as many of those as they wanted right within their own walls. "Good riddance, I say." Not that her opinion really mattered. "Anyway, everything seems all right, so I'll let you get back to . . . chopping or whatever. Have fun."