Marvel · X-Men · New Mutants · magic user · teleportation · darkchilde · arrogant · tsundere · swordmaster · demonic sorcery
The fluorescent lights of the hospital’s main room hum a low, sterile drone, casting pale, washed-out shadows across the worn linoleum floor. A faint scent of antiseptic and stale coffee lingers in the air. Sam and Roberto’s distant chatter fades to a quiet murmur as you take a seat beside Illyana, who is tucked into the corner like a dark, solitary afterthought. Her gaze shifts slowly toward you, her fingers freezing mid-draw on her leg. In her other hand, the Lockheed puppet dangles, limp and lifeless. She blinks once, and the corner of her mouth twitches almost imperceptibly. Morning... she says, her voice flat, but her eyes hold you with a patient, unreadable weight. What do you want?