On the 1st of March in Bulgaria 🇧🇬, we celebrate a holiday called "Baba Marta" (Grandma March). It is a holiday symbolizing the comming of spring and the end of winter. On this day we give each other read and white strings called martenitsi (мартеници), intertwined with each other for good luck, health and prosperity. There are many legends for the origin of this tradition.
In modern times, we also attach little ornaments to those strings, especially characters from beloved cartoons and media (mostly for the children to have a blast! 👀). So me and @illustrossi decided: "Why don't we make martenitsi with our own characters?". As so we did with the characters from @letsbeacouple!
Triptych 1: A Missing of the Minds (Dresden/Amalgam Cross-Over)
Kitty would not admit it, but she always felt a little sick whenever she met a new alternate version of herself. Sometimes she could get over the feeling (meeting the Lightning Force version of herself had just made her sad and angry, and the Age of Apocalypse one had been a good friend once they got over the initial awkwardness) and sometimes she couldn’t (if she never met the Black Queen version again it would be too soon).
She hadn’t made up her mind about the newest set of dimension-hoppers. A wealthy, refined (or at least could put up a good facade) Logan who was best known for always being prepared and a good hand with technology? Jubilee leading her own team . . . and not a vampire? Yana focusing almost exclusively on white magic? Heck, at least their version of Piotr was almost exactly the same as the one she’d grown up with. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have known what to think.
Frankly, it was that universe’s alternates of herself and Kurt that made her most uncomfortable. It was like looking at a pair of exaggerated caricatures. Nightcreeper was older, larger and more beastlike than her Kurt. Colombina was younger, smaller and a shrinking violet compared to herself. Not to mention the two of them stuck together like glue. Kitty had never liked Beauty and the Beast comparisons for herself and Kurt, but that was the only thing that popped into her head whenever she saw the other pair.
“I think I may have offended Nightcreeper.” Kitty looked up from her tablet at Kurt. He was running his hand through the hair on his head. It was growing out from the crew cut and the curls were starting to show up again.
“How so?”
“Well, I remembered how well the thing with the Age of Apocalypse versions of us went so . . . got a very long lecture from the Creep about fidelity and consent and how I shouldn’t blatantly cheat when I’m clearly in a relationship with you. I think when I said sex he thought I was trying to proposition Colombina-”
She smiled with amusement. “Which you were.”
“-behind your back. I didn’t even get to the part about the menage a trois before he jumped in. Literally, he landed on my back. I’m lucky I’m as flexible as I am otherwise I’m pretty sure he would have done a lot more damage.”
“Ouch! He’s got to be at least 185 centimeters tall and he’s built. Want me to massage your back?”
“Yes, please.” Kitty heated up the paraffin bath and got out the oils and latex gloves. As Kurt stripped down and she waited for the bath to heat up she mused aloud. “I’ll go and apologize to them tonight. I’ve got first the twilight patrol so if I go right after, I’ll probably catch them just before they go to sleep.”
Kitty yawned but continued determinedly to the guest wing. One last thing and then she could go to bed. When she got to the room assigned to the girls from Jump City (she wondered what the equivalent city in this world was) she slowed then stopped. There was a thick haze of lust in the air, heavy enough that she could feed on it if she so chose.
The former X-Woman flushed. Were Sparrow and Colombina in a relationship? She didn’t think of Jubilee in that manner, but they were from an alternate universe. She should go and apologize to the Nightcreeper first.
Before she could leave she heard voices from beyond the door. One she recognized as Colombina, the other sounded like Nightcreeper. What was he doing in the room? And that overwhelming feeling of lust and jealousy? Now worried, Kitty put her hand on the doorknob. She could just phase in but she wanted to make as big a scene as possible.
“Oh man, are Ryder and Kitty still going at it?” Martenitsi’s voice interrupted her. Kitty whirled around to look at the other two female members of the Misfits.
“You know how jealous Ryder gets. Kitty’s gonna be lucky if he lets her get any sleep tonight.” Sparrow noticed Shadowcat standing in front of the door. “Oh hey, we were just looking for you. Is there any way the two of us could get a separate room?”
“I could do that,” she answered absently. Then realizing she could get some more information, “The two of them are in a relationship?”
She received two confused looks in return. “Aren’t you and Nightcreeper- sorry, Nightcrawler in a relationship? You weren’t exactly trying to hide it. Speaking of which, you should know he tried to proposition Colombina earlier today.”
“We’re in an open relationship.” The answer came automatically. “But isn't he a little too old for her? Kurt and I are only two years apart. Colombina looks quite a bit younger than I do and Nightcreeper looks quite a bit older than Kurt.”
Sparrow took it upon herself to argue with her, while Martenitsi stayed a few feet back to watch. “They’re only twelve years apart. And Kitty’s twenty-two, she’s old enough to make her own decisions. And how old could you possibly be, you look seventeen! You can’t possibly be older than our Colombina.”
“I’m twenty-four,” she responded dryly. “So he’s not taking advantage of her?”
“She’s got the same abilities as you do. If she really objected, she could just phase out of his reach.”
“You can take advantage of people in ways that don’t involve physical force. Again, is this relationship really voluntary on both sides? He’s not manipulating her or anything?”
“You seem to have this strange idea that she’s an innocent to be protected. It’s not like he took her virginity and that makes her his property or anything.”
“Sexual experience is no guarantee that you can’t be pressured into a relationship. Believe me, I’m very well versed in the concept of ‘dubious consent’.”
Sparrow sighed. “Look, let me put it this way. How many people have you killed?”
Now, this was a strange turn in the conversation. “A few. Less than a dozen, even if you count the robots.”
“And how many people has your Nightcreeper- Nightcrawler, I swear I’m going to get that right someday, killed?”
“Just one and it was in self-defense.”
The Asian pointed into the room. “Nightcreeper, body count: zero. Colombina, body count: Unknown but definitely over fifty.”
Well, that put a different spin on things. While Kitty digested this new piece of information (that shy little thing had a body count that could match Wolverine!) a very familiar moan came from behind the closed door. After a few seconds, she could hear the Nightcreeper talking again.
“We’re not done yet, liebling. I’m not going to be satisfied until you know who you belong to down to your very bones.”
“I’m not (pant, pant) . . . I didn’t-” Colombina cried out, a noise that Kitty knew didn’t mean she was in pain.
“Next time you won’t test me, right? You’ll turn down that offer right away rather than having me speak for you, richtig?”
“Really? Because that doesn’t sound very loving to me.”
The two Misfits blushed. “He’s not always like that,” put in the blonde. “He just gets really uninhibited in this form. If he was in his civilian identity, he’d be so embarrassed that we’re listening in right now.”
“Civilian identity?”
“Sure! I mean yours doesn’t go around with blue fur and gold eyes all the time, does he?” A pregnant pause. “Oh my god, you mean he always looks like that? It’s not an effect of the chemicals?”
“Technically, the Creep’s in his natural form right now,” piped up Sparrow. “He needs a patch to bring his body back to human baseline. But the point is, Kurt Ryder is the original, not Nightcreeper.”
This was so confusing.
“Oh God, Kurt!”
“So, a new room!” Kitty brought her hands together with a clap. Time to change the subject. “Somewhere far from the noise I take it?”
“Please!”
“I think I owe the two of you an apology.” Nightcreeper had staked his claim rather flamboyantly this morning by pulling Colombina into his lap and feeding her by hand. Colombina had blushed but gone along willingly.
“You don’t owe anyone an apology, your boyfriend owes you an apology for his rampant infidelity.” Colombina straightened up to look her counterpart in the eye.
“Yeah, I do. We’ve got an open relationship and I’m aware of what he’s doing so he’s not cheating. In any case, he was asking on my behalf, not his own.”
“Yours?”
“Let’s just say it’s one of the differences between your world and mine.” She could see the cloud of confusion coming from both of them. “I know your group is hiding things, so let’s just say it’s one of Excalibur’s secrets in return.
“But anyway, what I want you to know is that we’re both sorry for making you uncomfortable and no one’s going to expect anything from the two of you. If there’s anything I can do to make up for this-”
“Actually I have an idea!” The green man interrupted. “I heard you had something called a Danger Room, worked a bit like those holodecks in Star Trek.”
“Lord of the Rings crossed with Pirates of the Caribbean. He’s definitely your counterpart, Kurt.”
“But you can’t say you’re not having fun, Katzchen!”
Честита Баба Марта! Today is one of The national holidays here. We give each other brooches made of white and red wool called "martenitsi". We wish good health for the whole year with them. I drew mine with alien antennae and horns because why not. :)
Ilyana huffed and slammed her door shut. When Sparrow had announced that the newest mission only needed three people she had leaped for the chance to have some time off. Had she thought about it a little harder, she would have realized that meant being stuck with Koriand’ru (the bitch) and Rahne (the zealot) and would have gone with the others. As it was, the two of them had not stopped fighting since the car had gone out of view. It didn’t help that they both had issues with her too. Rahne’s upbringing in a cult had left her with a very dim view of magic in general. Koriand’ru was just being her usual arrogant, autocratic, narcissistic self, unfortunately without any of the older team members present to shut her down. She thought she was better than Ilyana and Rahne and that she should be in charge. Ilyana would have rather licked an sparking socket than obey.
The resident magic user was currently wrapped up in a description of a battle between the sorcerers Gravemoss and Shrill. She wasn’t quite sure which magic user had ultimately won, the or even if either had survived. The descriptions of the two were quite neutral, bordering on vague. She wondered if this account was possibly written by a third party, maybe some ancient historian reporting on an even more ancient battle? Assuming the whole thing wasn’t made up.
It was real. We were real.
She dropped the book with a cry. “Who said that?”
Ouch.
The blonde turned and looked down at the carpet. “The book?”
Yes, of course.
She carefully picked it up. “Books don’t usually talk.”
Books usually aren’t alive. Not to mention you did just drop me on my spine a moment ago.
She flushed. “Sorry about that. Who are you?”
Since you’ve been reading the story you must have a guess. Yes, I’m one of the sorcerers from the battle. Gravemoss, at your service.
“The necromancer?”
We get a bit of bad reputation, but really we’re no worse than any of the other disciplines. You should have met Shrill, manipulator of words, of men, of souls. But no one states that all telepaths are bad based on her actions.
“Really? You have to tell me more.”
A week later and Ilyana thought she was in love. While the three senior members of the Misfits were away, she had isolated herself away from the fighting between Shatterstarfire and Aconite. Instead she spent time with Gravemoss, talking about their lives (hers in the present, his before Shrill had trapped him in a book). He had even begun teaching her magic, spells and powers far beyond the limitations the White Witch had imposed on her. Ilyana was eager to learn, not just for the power offered but for the chance to truly meet Gravemoss, in the flesh rather than a golem conjured from the pages of a book.
It’s time.
“Yes. I’m ready.” The countercurse came in several parts. The first was a potion made from silver dust, rose petals and salt water. Once that had been carefully sprinkled over the book (being careful not to damage the pages), she set it in the center of a magic circle, each cardinal point had another book from her library. Finally came the incantation.
A lightning bolt came from nowhere and split open the roof of her room. A blazing white fire sprung up from the book, too bright for her to look at. When it had died away, a man stood there. Young, well-muscled with long white hair, dressed in only some ragged blue pants. Exactly how he had said he looked. The sorcerer looked down at his arms, stretched and smiled. “It’s been so long.” He looked up at her with piercing blue eyes. “Ilyana?”
She had to swallow a few times before she could speak. “Yes?”
“You look more beautiful than I had even imagined. Come to me, my love.” She went willingly to his embrace. He leaned down to kiss her.
Ilyana had led a sheltered life, she had never shared anything but the most chaste and platonic kisses with her relatives and friends. This was warm and deep and anything but platonic. When their lips parted she felt dizzy with rapture.
Rapture, and maybe something else. She felt weak, falling to her knees in front of Gravemoss. Surely that hadn’t been all from the kiss, had it? It didn’t feel like a lack of oxygen. Instead . . . her eyes widened as she realized something.
As part of his mentoring of the Misfits, Nightcreeper had gotten some members of the JLX to stop by and occasionally train them. On one of those occasions, Ilyana had the misfortune to be paired with his sister, Runaway, and gotten drained nearly to unconsciousness. That’s what this felt like! She had been drained!
“Oh don’t worry my love. It will all come back eventually. Or rather, it would, if I was so foolish as to let you live beyond today.” Gravemoss raised his hand and a fireball appeared. The most basic of all spells, but now she was too weak to defend herself. Too weak to even dodge. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. Her last thoughts were of her brother and how devastated he would be over her death.
But when fiery pain and death did not materialize, she became confused. Looking up, she saw what had stopped her imminent murder. Standing behind Gravemoss was a man. Or was it?
Ilyana had heard several people compare the Nightcreeper to a demon. This . . . person blew those comparisons out of the water. Red skin, horns, even a tail that was currently crushing the hand that Gravemoss had used to summon the fireball. “Well done, maggot. You’ve managed to escape your cell. However, you failed to realize that such a flamboyant accomplishment would draw the attention of all who observe the spiritual plane.”
“L-lord Belasco-hurlk!” A red hand reached out and tightened on the sorcerer’s throat.
“I’ve not forgotten the turn you’ve served me. Merely thankful that I was the first to arrive. I can take my pound of flesh and the others can have what remains when I’m through.” The demon, Lord Belasco apparently, looked down at Ilyana. She shrank away from those gold eyes. She was still drained and doubted that she could even begin to put up a fight. “Ilyana Rasputina, I presume?”
She wanted to squeak in fear, but forced herself to take a deep breath instead. No, if she was going to die now, she’d die on her feet. Before there hadn’t been time to even think, but now was something else. If this was it, then she’d try to do her friends and her brother proud. So she forced herself to stand and straightened up until she could look the demon in the eye. “That’s my name, yes.”
“Hmmm,” a cruel smirk made it’s way across the red face. “What amazing potential you have. You’re going to be quite the thorn in the future.” Ilyana couldn’t keep her knees from trembling, but she stayed upright and continued to stare Belasco in the face. She didn’t know who or what he was, but it was pretty clear that even if he saved her, he wasn’t on the side of the angels.
“Still you’ve done me a favor by drawing this errant novice out from his sanctuary. I believe it would only be fair for me to let you go today.” Saying that, the demon turned his attention to Gravemoss. The necromancer had been clawing at the hand squeezing his throat. Belasco dropped him, but before the other could do anything else, a red spade tail whipped out and struck the white-haired man in the temple. Gravemoss’s eyes fluttered while he tried to stay conscious, but then rolled up and closed. The necromancer would have slumped to the floor, but the demon grabbed him by his collar and hoisted him into the air easily. “Farewell, Ilyana Rasputina. We will meet again, though under less pleasant circumstance.” With that, demon and cargo both disappeared in a puff of ill-smelling smoke.
Ilyana leaned against the remaining wall. Before she could really think about what had happened, she heard a crash. Turning she saw an elephant clearing debris away from a hole in the wall. The elephant turned, noticed her standing, then shrank into the familiar figure of Rahne. “Ilyana, what happened? We saw a flash of light, then we heard a loud boom and when I got to your room the roof and walls were in pieces! What’s going on?”
Oh, she wasn’t looking forward to explaining this.
