A/N: I have no idea where this came from. It drifted somewhat off-topic and I've not exactly got the time (or inclination) to come up with something better...
The problem with heroic last stands is that one tends not to survive them. It was, therefore, with some surprise that Psylocke regained consciousness after taking on a superior foe...
"Ah good. You're awake. You doin' okay?"
"Yes." Psylocke answered, trying to feel the pain that Vargas had inflicted. "I feel... fine?"
"Well miss Braddock, that would be the good news. It's because you don't really have a body anymore seeing as how you're dead and all that... which would be the bad news I suppose, but isn't it kewl?"
Dead.
Betsy opened her eyes, wondering if she still had them. Evidently, she had at least something equivalent, as the area around her came into focus. Or rather, the void around her. There was nothing but a black void, aside from the person next to her. It was an asian woman looking about 20 years old, with her arms crossed and her feet in a pair of pink rollerblades resting on absolutely nothing. The picture was made just a little more surreal by the fact that she was casually leaning backwards against even more pitch-black nothingness. On the whole, it was quite disconcerting. Even so, the yellow raincoat, large pink sunglasses on her hair and unnatural blue eyes allowed Betsy to identify the woman immediately.
"Jubilee?" She noted with distaste that her voice was wavering as she noted that she, too, was seeming resting on nothing.
"Kinda sorta. As Hank would say, I'm an anthropomorphologicalized personicalifization... Or something..." The woman pushed herself off against nothing and was now standing free, sinking through her knees to look Psylocke in the eyes. "Of the abstract concept that is the end of everything. Just not particularly abstract."
The woman who was apparently not Jubilee shrugged at Psylocke's frown. "I'm Death, and I don't mean one of Poccy's Horsemen versions either. I look way better than Warren, for one thing. Anyway, I'll be your guide to the there-after and stuff."
"The there-after?"
"What you'd know as the here-after. Except you're not here anymore. Well, you're here, but here's there. You're in there's here-after which makes this here the there-after. You follow?"
"You're TRYING to make me confused, aren't you?"
"Succeeding, too." With a smile, the not-Jubilee blew a bubble and popped it.
"So... you're... Death." It was a question as much as it was a statement.
"Yup. Thanatos, The Ultimate Reality, Jack, the Harvester of Souls, the Next Great Adventure, the End of Life, Teleute, the Eternal Embrace, Joe Black..." the girl rattled off. "You know, Death. None of those names is important, and I tend to look different for everyone to fit their ideas. But seeing as how I chose this form for you already, you can call me Jubilee."
"Wait." Psylocke felt a headache coming on, even if she wasn't sure she still had a head. "You look like this for me? My idea of Death looks like Jubilee?"
"No, I chose this form for you. You don't get a vote. I figured you'd prefer this over the more standardized badass Grim Reaper look. Besides, the skull and scythe thing gets old after a while. Totally boring after the first few hundred years. So I changed it. I'm Death. I'm allowed. Everything answers to me in the end. Not the other way around."
"Alright... So... I'm dead."
"The general result of the heroic last stand, yes."
"What happens now?"
"We walk for a bit, reach Judgement and then it's decided whether you're going up or... well, down. And then you do. The afterlife's funny that way."
"So you'll be taking me to Judgement."
"Posthumous escort girl. Yup. That'd be me."
"And you'll be doing so on rollerblades." Psylock observed.
Death nodded. "As good a method as any."
"And then send me to heaven or hell."
"That's the general idea."
"Judge, jury, and executioner." Betsy noted with distaste her voice was wavering again.
"Only judge and jury at this point. We're already well past the executioning stage."
"That hardly sounds like any way to get justice."
"Justice? Me and taxes, you know. Justice, you never got any guarantees on in the first place."
"So... What is it like?"
"Why do they always ask that one?" Death shook her head, then pulled the telepath up. "Long story. I'd tell you, but we should really get underway. You're a bit of a special case, but we've gotta follow the rules."
Death, still looking like Jubilee, swung an arm around the slightly taller Betsy, and started dragging her in a direction that seemed exactly to have the same darkness as all the others.
"So talk to me. How're Jean and Scott doing these days? It's been strangely long since she showed up last."
"Death gossips?"
The not-Jubilee shot Psylocke an amused sideward glance, then returned: "Wanna know what really happened to Elvis?"
Betsy blinked. Twice. Before replying. "Tempting... but no. How comes Jean keeps coming back from meeting you anyway?"
"Alright, so I may've bent the rules a little here and there... What're friends for?"
Psylocke suddenly stopped moving. "Friends? You aren't looking like Jubilee just because you feel like it, are you?"
"Are you sure you want me to answer that?"
"Probably not."
"Smart girl." Death replied in a tone that suggested she wasn't quite as amused as before. "Well, not that smart. I mean, this IS you third time! First with the bodyswitch, then the Morning Blood, what am I supposed to pull THIS time to get you back there?"
Betsy stumbled, catching herself - on nothing, again - and said: "Back? I'm going back?"
"One more time." Death allowed. "As I said, you're a special case. But just so you know, if you show up on my doorstep again before it's your time I'm going to make you a Summers."
Betsy shuddered.
"Indeed." Death halted, stopping next to a large switch, which was mounted on nothing, of course. "Make it count, miss Braddock. Goodbye."
The problem with heroic last stands is that one tends not to survive them. It was, therefore, with some surprise that Psylocke regained consciousness after taking on a superior foe...
"Ah good. You're awake. You doin' okay?"
"Yes." Psylocke answered, trying to feel the pain that Vargas had inflicted. "I feel... fine?"
"Well miss Braddock, that would be the good news. It's because you don't really have a body anymore seeing as how you're dead and all that... which would be the bad news I suppose, but isn't it kewl?"
Dead.
Betsy opened her eyes, wondering if she still had them. Evidently, she had at least something equivalent, as the area around her came into focus. Or rather, the void around her. There was nothing but a black void, aside from the person next to her. It was an asian woman looking about 20 years old, with her arms crossed and her feet in a pair of pink rollerblades resting on absolutely nothing. The picture was made just a little more surreal by the fact that she was casually leaning backwards against even more pitch-black nothingness. On the whole, it was quite disconcerting. Even so, the yellow raincoat, large pink sunglasses on her hair and unnatural blue eyes allowed Betsy to identify the woman immediately.
"Jubilee?" She noted with distaste that her voice was wavering as she noted that she, too, was seeming resting on nothing.
"Kinda sorta. As Hank would say, I'm an anthropomorphologicalized personicalifization... Or something..." The woman pushed herself off against nothing and was now standing free, sinking through her knees to look Psylocke in the eyes. "Of the abstract concept that is the end of everything. Just not particularly abstract."
The woman who was apparently not Jubilee shrugged at Psylocke's frown. "I'm Death, and I don't mean one of Poccy's Horsemen versions either. I look way better than Warren, for one thing. Anyway, I'll be your guide to the there-after and stuff."
"The there-after?"
"What you'd know as the here-after. Except you're not here anymore. Well, you're here, but here's there. You're in there's here-after which makes this here the there-after. You follow?"
"You're TRYING to make me confused, aren't you?"
"Succeeding, too." With a smile, the not-Jubilee blew a bubble and popped it.
"So... you're... Death." It was a question as much as it was a statement.
"Yup. Thanatos, The Ultimate Reality, Jack, the Harvester of Souls, the Next Great Adventure, the End of Life, Teleute, the Eternal Embrace, Joe Black..." the girl rattled off. "You know, Death. None of those names is important, and I tend to look different for everyone to fit their ideas. But seeing as how I chose this form for you already, you can call me Jubilee."
"Wait." Psylocke felt a headache coming on, even if she wasn't sure she still had a head. "You look like this for me? My idea of Death looks like Jubilee?"
"No, I chose this form for you. You don't get a vote. I figured you'd prefer this over the more standardized badass Grim Reaper look. Besides, the skull and scythe thing gets old after a while. Totally boring after the first few hundred years. So I changed it. I'm Death. I'm allowed. Everything answers to me in the end. Not the other way around."
"Alright... So... I'm dead."
"The general result of the heroic last stand, yes."
"What happens now?"
"We walk for a bit, reach Judgement and then it's decided whether you're going up or... well, down. And then you do. The afterlife's funny that way."
"So you'll be taking me to Judgement."
"Posthumous escort girl. Yup. That'd be me."
"And you'll be doing so on rollerblades." Psylock observed.
Death nodded. "As good a method as any."
"And then send me to heaven or hell."
"That's the general idea."
"Judge, jury, and executioner." Betsy noted with distaste her voice was wavering again.
"Only judge and jury at this point. We're already well past the executioning stage."
"That hardly sounds like any way to get justice."
"Justice? Me and taxes, you know. Justice, you never got any guarantees on in the first place."
"So... What is it like?"
"Why do they always ask that one?" Death shook her head, then pulled the telepath up. "Long story. I'd tell you, but we should really get underway. You're a bit of a special case, but we've gotta follow the rules."
Death, still looking like Jubilee, swung an arm around the slightly taller Betsy, and started dragging her in a direction that seemed exactly to have the same darkness as all the others.
"So talk to me. How're Jean and Scott doing these days? It's been strangely long since she showed up last."
"Death gossips?"
The not-Jubilee shot Psylocke an amused sideward glance, then returned: "Wanna know what really happened to Elvis?"
Betsy blinked. Twice. Before replying. "Tempting... but no. How comes Jean keeps coming back from meeting you anyway?"
"Alright, so I may've bent the rules a little here and there... What're friends for?"
Psylocke suddenly stopped moving. "Friends? You aren't looking like Jubilee just because you feel like it, are you?"
"Are you sure you want me to answer that?"
"Probably not."
"Smart girl." Death replied in a tone that suggested she wasn't quite as amused as before. "Well, not that smart. I mean, this IS you third time! First with the bodyswitch, then the Morning Blood, what am I supposed to pull THIS time to get you back there?"
Betsy stumbled, catching herself - on nothing, again - and said: "Back? I'm going back?"
"One more time." Death allowed. "As I said, you're a special case. But just so you know, if you show up on my doorstep again before it's your time I'm going to make you a Summers."
Betsy shuddered.
"Indeed." Death halted, stopping next to a large switch, which was mounted on nothing, of course. "Make it count, miss Braddock. Goodbye."