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Warlock has been at the school for a little while now. And Doug has been introducing him to all sorts of school things. He signed Warlock up for classes, particularly history and literature… and art. His reasoning is Warlock doesn't really need to play catchup at math or science, though his grasp of physics is occasionally… bizzare. But whose isn't?
Anyway, right now, Doug is outside with a baseball and a catcher's mitt. He's… playing catch. With Joe DiMaggio. "So, buddy, what do you think of the school so far?"
Warlock; ahem, Joe DiMaggio, is very bad at some things. He's read the definition of 'art' in the dictionary several times but has yet to really grasp what it is. Kvch doesn't have a word for 'art'. But he can play catch like a pro! So he tosses the ball back, aiming carefully, and he grins a sort of goofy grin, "Surprise. Self did not expect to be welcomed, even though self-friend told self that this school was a sanctuary. Self did not disbelieve self-friend, but suspected self-friend must have been mistaken."
Illyana Rasputina is something of a fan of American culture. A lot of Russians are — it sort of represents a world apart from the way peple get treated in the USSR and all that. Admittedly, she hasn't lived in the Soviet Union in some time, but that's neither here nor there. The point is, she likes baseball.
But she's no fool. And when she spies Doug playing ball with DiMaggio she's sure that something's amiss. For one thing, DiMaggio left the game thirteen years ago — and presumably the man has aged since all those pictures were taken.
She's been strolling on campus, humming 'G.T.O.' to herself (number four on the hot 100!), but stops when she sees Doug and Joltin' Joe playing catch. "Hey, Ramsey," she calls, starting toward the pair. "Who's your friend? Is that Morph? Hey, Morph."
"I'd never willingly steer you wrong, buddy. Consider this place home from now on." he catches the ball, and says, "Nope, this isn't Morph—" Which Morph, anyway? There's Ben Deeds, and then the other guy… He rests his hand on his hip. "You won't believe this. You know how I was in Europe? Well I heard about this meteor that crashed in the Alps, so I went looking for it…"
"And I found a *space alien*. And he's *really keen*." He grins, wide. "Warlock, say hello to Illyana Rasputina. We went to school together here."
"Embarassment. Self accidentally bounced off of moon and landed in mountains designated 'Alps', and was confused. Self-friend Doug has helped self greatly!" Warlock says with enthusiasm as he explains how he got to the planet, a sort of happy excitement that doesn't really look quite right on Joe's face. "Greetings. Self is happy to meet you, Illyana Rasputina. Self is designated Warlock, formerly and briefly of the Technarchy of Kvch. Self-teacher Xavier has agreed to giving self … sanctuary." Pause, "Is Illyana Rasputina a human-mutant too?" he wonders.
Illyana was probably thinking of the other guy.
She peers at Warlock. The words are all comprehensible, and the sentences too — though it takes Illyana a moment to parse what's being said. "I am," she says. "Also a sorceress. Welcome, Warlock. I'm sure we're glad to have you."
"Ah," Doug says, looking up at Warlock. "Maybe it'll add some context if you take your usual form?" He looks back at Illyana. "Warlock's a shapeshifter, and possibly the most powerful one I've ever seen. He's got a… I guess I'd call it a tesseract component; he can add and reduce mass from himself from… somewhere. He can become theoretically *anything*. He turned into a rocketship and took me for a ride around Mars. No kidding!"
Warlock looks over to Doug, tilting his head slightly, "Self-friend, define term 'sorceress'?" But at his suggestion, he nods. The change is rapid: its like the lines of his features fold in on eachother and twist and turn and soon enough he's a man-shaped thing that looks more like a robot then anything organic, all bronze and chrome, with long black tendrils for dreadlocks, and bright yellow eyes and a large grin, "Elaboration. Self is a techno-organic being. Self's form is defined by need in the moment; self has no true form— though bipedal humanoid is something of a default for reasons of ancient Technarchy contact with first food-world's occupants."
Illyana will let Doug explain 'sorceress' to Warlock. She's somewhat distracted by the term 'food-world', and now she repeats it. "'Food-world'? What's that about?" A glance at Doug, and then back to Warlock. She's certainly not disturbed by the creature's appearance — she's regularly surrounded by things far more monstrous.
"Sama—" Doug says, speaking about the main character of Bewitched, before he eyes Illyana and an impish look twinkles in his eyes.
"…Endora. From Bewitched. Illyana is exactly like Endora, Warlock." Since Bewitched JUST premiered this week. Doug is hooked on it.
Then he sighs. "Warlock is a mutant of a sort… because all of his people are monsters. World-eaters, Illyana. Warlock is a pacifist. When Technarchs are born, they fight their fathers to the death. Warlock refused to fight his father; he fled instead, and he came here because he picked up on broadcast signals and guessed there was a power source where he could recharge without hurting anybody."
Warlock manages to look robo-skeptical, squinting at Doug, then at Illyana, "Confusion. Is not Endora 'fiction'? Self was given to understand magic was 'fiction'." The tone of voice makes it clear he is not himself entirely clear on fiction vs non-fiction, yet. But he nods gravely to Doug's words, "Sorrow. To the Technarchy, this would be food-world. World inhabited by organic life: organic life exists solely to serve as sustenance to Technarchy: sentience beyond the Technarchy is irrelevent. Self feels. Technarchs do not feel."
Illyana gets the feeling she's being teased — she has not, in fact, watched 'Bewitched'. In general, if she sees a TV show or movie is about witches, she avoids it. They tend to be stupid in comparison to the reality of things (on the other hand, she's got Archie comics featuring Sabrina in one of her desk drawers; the character hasn't received her own series yet, but she's still brilliant, in Illyana's opinion).
"Magic is perfectly real," she says. "I rather suspect Endora is not. Television and movie portrayals of witches tend to be idiotic. And Doug, if I find out you're comparing to me to some nasty old witch I will leave demons in your bed. You know I can do it." To Warlock she continues, "I understand how it is. I was raised by demons. I try hard not to be like them. And it's good to know what's out there — forewarned is forearmed."
Doug gets a little smile on his face. "Actually, Illy-Billy, I'm willing to put money down that Endora will be your favorite character on the show." He looks between the two, and then he puts his hand on Warlock's arm. "So he's come to the school to find a home, and to learn about humanity. Earth is Warlock's home now, and… well." He gives a little smirk. "I was kind of looking for a purpose, and when I helped him out, I think I learned a little bit about what mine is."
"Curiosity. Can Illyana Rasputina demonstrate ability 'magic'?" Warlock sounds intrigued, in fact, "Self was not 'raised', self was 'born' with the genetic knowledge of self-sire Magus, lord of all Technarchy. Self's understanding of word 'demon' would apply to self-species." He nods then emphatically over to Doug, "Self-friend Doug learned self's language and has helped— tremendously— self to understand humanity and planet Earth and concept 'friendship'."
"Illy-Billy?" Illyana looks horrified by this nickname. Simply aghast. "That's it. Demons in the bed. Demons in the shower. Your wedding night? I'm replacing your bride with a demon. Doug, you call me that again and so help me…"
To Warlock, she continues, "See, he calls me by these names, -knowing- what I am, and what I can do, and thinks he's going to get away with it. He's wrong. Please, call me Illyana, or just 'Yana. Either way's fine." Her eyes go to Doug again. "That one's courting a demon marriage.
"As for demonstrating…" Illyana considers this a moment. What to demonstrate? "It's easier in my dimension," she notes, "but I can still do a fair amount here." She starts to say something, then stops herself, points at Doug. "Cover your ears and hum. I don't want you learning demonic. It's not good for you."
Doug rolls his eyes. "Pfft. Like I'm ever gonna get the girl and get married. Demon-Bride will probably be as close as I ever get." Then he rolls his eyes upward, and gives a little smile. "What I will say is… I'm one of the few human beings on the planet who has ever given 'Yana a cute nickname and gotten away with it. Sometimes it's a privilege just to be have access to the envelope to push it."
He raises his eyebrows. "Really? Okay." He puts his hands over his ears and starts humming a half-hearted tune. He can read lips…
"Illyana is in possession of a dimension?" Warlock blinks at this, though this talk of names and nicknames goes a bit over his head. He does say gravely, "You should tell self-friend to turn around if it would be dangerous for him to know language designated 'demonic'; self considers it a 25% chance that it might successfully cause him to not learn the language. Self-friend's linguistic ability is astounding." Still, he looks on curiously.
"He thinks he's gotten away with it," says Illyana drily. "I have a box of itching powder that's going in his underwear drawer. Yes. I am the Queen of Limbo. And it's quite literally Hell. Now then." She pauses, glances at Doug, then shakes her head. "There's more to Demonic than just the words. He won't be able to piece it together if he can't hear it." She's pretty sure, anyway.
The young woman places her hands together, palms outward, thumb to thumb and index finger to index finger, and she chants, her voice growing deeper and taking on a hissing quality that is far from human as she speaks. A pentagram, its apex meeting the tips of her fingers, etches itself in light in the space between her hands, and, after a moment more, a spray of light bursts out from it, splitting into a kaleidoscope of colors as it hits the wall of the mansion.
Doug can't pick up on all of it, but he rolls some of the syllables he does pick up on over his tongue. Greasy, with a taste like sour tin. Unpleasant. He files that one away for later, especially since continuing to try to sound out those syllables is giving him a case of dry mouth. He watches her cast her light show and he'd whistle, but he's too busy humming. Hmmm HMMMM HMMMm hmmm HMMM hmmm hmmm HMMM~
"Fascinating." Warlock lifts a hand, and his fingers fold in on themselves, shifting in shape, until he has a holographic projector on his hand. Light shines out of it to form a similar, but not exactly the same, light show. Warlock grins, "Self can make light if self manifests technology." He seems proud of himself, "Self would like to visit your dimension sometime." He looks back to Doug, and grins, showing off his holoprojector to his friend.
"And there are certainly mutants who can make light without magic or tech," Illyana replies to Warlock. "You're welcome to visit, but I assure you, it's not the sort of place you'd want to stay for long." She pauses. "Demons probably wouldn't try to eat you, though. Doug, you can stop humming now!" This last is shouted so he can probably hear it despite the humming and the hands over his ears.
Doug stops humming, and then he says, "I remember… there was one. He could turn ambient light into sculptures. Really beautiful stuff." He takes his hands off his ears, but then he looks faintly sad. That's an unpleasant memory for a lot of people. He grins at Warlock, and says "Limbo is" He thinks. "Something else. It's awell it's not a nice place to live, and I wouldn't wanna visit."
"It sounds like self-world, Kvch." Then again, to Warlock, the whole demons and hell thing just reminds him of home. "Self did not want to live there or visit, but mostly because self-sire was rather intent on killing self at the time." But, the projector folds back into his hand and he smiles, "Light sculptures sounds aesthetically pleasing. Thank you, Illyana, for your demonstration of magic."
When Illyana draws her hands apart, the rainbows on the wall disappear. "Perfectly welcome, Warlock. If you grew up on a world like Limbo… well, so did I. I'm sorry." She reaches up to run a hand back through her hair. "I'm afraid I need to move on for now," she adds apologetically, "but I'm sure I'll see you both around, soon."
Doug nods, once, and then he looks over at Warlock, his eyes bright. "And that was Illyana. One of my best friends back in school—" He shakes his head. "Hey. Wanna watch Bewitched tonight?"
"Goodbye!" Warlock nods after Illyana, and then smiles at Doug, "She may perhaps agree to be a self-friend too, I suspect." And that he says both serious and intent, "Affirmation. Self wishes to study Endora closer to see how it is that she is like Illyana Rasputina."
Doug gives a little smile at that. "It's simple, Lock. Nobody tell either of them what to do. Ever." He grabs Warlock's arm, to take him in the house. "Come on, I'm hungry."