#radha dastoor

[teal-bandit]

This was supposed to be a hellfire gala look for Haven, but it didn't turn out as fancy as I wanted it... Anyway, she deserves to be resurrected and happy thank you for coming to my Ted talk

[pageofqueens]

[xprojectrpg]

Moment of Awesome - David Haller/Legion: Following his "healing" at the hands of Radha Dastoor, Haller meets with Quentin concerning his newfound ally's methods.

"Quentin. Thanks for meeting me."

Though the double-barreled shotgun Quentin held was only a psychic construct, as evidenced by the fact it was bright pink and glowed, Sydney's gun safety lessons were ingrained, so Quentin lowered it and set it aside before turning to face his visitor. "Jimothy. You seem . . . different. Did you do something with your hair?"

"No. I went to see Radha a couple days ago." The older man paused, as if struggling to find the right word. Then, seeming to find nothing more accurate, he said, "She cured me."

"Of your crippling need to sacrifice your own wellbeing for the sake of helping other people who barely appreciate it?"

"No." Haller looked at the target so recently decimated by Quentin's shotgun and raised a hand.

It happened slowly enough that the process was clear to the naked eye. The noise came first: a tortured snapping, like someone slowly bending a two by four. The wooden posts began to splinter as if unseen hands were rending the wood apart from every angle, shredding them into dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of pieces barely bigger than matchsticks. They hung in the air, a latticework of drifting wood, and the X-Man twisted his hand. The particles began to smolder, then swirl. A column of tiny flames swirled into the air like a swarm of fireflies. With a final snap of Haller's fingers the column exploded outward into a shining cloud.

The tattered paper target fluttered to the grass, untouched.

Ash raining around them, Haller turned back to Quentin.

"My other problem."

It was an impressive display, kind of showboaty considering Quentin's own telekinesis was limited to carrying groceries or packing a bowl, though he could appreciate the drama of it all, particularly the final snap.

"Looks like she just replaced mental illness with compulsory destruction of property," he sighed as he dismissed his psychic shotgun in a puff of pink mist. He would have to take to the Danger Room now to practice, and he really did not care to have any X-Man watching over his shoulder. "Not her best work. But a cure's a cure, I guess."

"I didn't ask for one. She didn't even warn me. She just did it." The words were uncharacteristically sharp. Even as he heard it he tried to rein himself in, but it was difficult. His emotions seemed to be closer to the surface, messier, especially the aspects that had previously been delegated to Cyndi and Jack. Haller took a deep breath and tried to choose his next words with care.

"Look," he said, "Radha saw something she thought was ugly, and instead of asking she just changed it. She went into my mind and made me conform to her expectations of what a real person should look like. Like I was just a piece of broken furniture she found on the side of the road that she could refurbish and sell off again." The counselor shook his head. "I know you respect her, and that she seems to have done a lot of good for a lot of people, but if this is how she thinks -- what are the implications for the world she's trying to build?"

Quentin crossed his arms and defiantly glared at Haller. (Just David now? He wondered. This meant Cyndi was gone. Pity.) "Seems to me she healed a lifetime of trauma and intense psychological impairment, which you've spent how many decades trying to treat? And no one else has ever even come close to it, while she did it in the blink of an eye. Painlessly. She found your problem and fixed you, and I bet she didn't even ask for a 'thank you' in return."

"That's the thing. She didn't fix anything. She just got rid of how I dealt with it. DID is a survival mechanism, not a party trick. If Radha had bothered to ask, I'd have told her the others were created to hold experiences and memories so traumatic I almost lost my mind, and that all she did by removing my ability to dissociate was ungate them for me all at once. Now I remember everything. Feel everything. Unfiltered." Haller took a swift step forward that brought him immediately into Quentin's space, staring the younger man dead in the eyes. A small blotch of brown in his left eye was the only remaining trace of his natural heterochromia, but the ice in his tone could have been Jack's.

"Tell me I'm lucky to remember the sound of fat popping while I burned six people alive," Haller whispered. "Tell me I should thank her for the memory of being trapped in every single one of their disintegrating minds as I tore the tendons from their bones. That I owe her for a memory I didn't even know I had: being trapped in the rubble under my guardian's corpse, smelling charred human meat while the flies crawled over us."

He was breathing hard now, and he could feel the telekinesis shivering just beneath his skin -- close. Too close. This wasn't Quentin's fault. Haller turned away and pressed his hands to his face, steadying himself. He took another deep breath. "Sorry," he said, "but those decades of worthless treatment are the only reason I'm still standing here."

[sebastianshaw]

I ALMOST FORGOT! It’s still Fanfic Friday and here’s my fic! Haven, Ajak, Makkari, Darkstar, Scorpion, Asp, Mantis, Lightwave. All the dress designs I did or plan to do. Plus Essex and Bennet as cameos, and Selene in the role as the villan. requested by @catboy-sinister Shaw is mentioned in passing but does not appear. This is all about Haven being a damsel in distress who gets saved by multiple beautiful women, because I really really really like Haven getting rescued like she never did in canon. Basically, self-indulgent slosh as always! Complete with my attempt at classic comic-book dialogue style!

The third Hellfire Gala was in full swing, held outdoors, for the glory of Krakoa itself surpassed the beauty of any structure’s interior. There were sheltered areas, of course, but these were open, and they were not concrete and cement and glass and rebar, but natural structures formed by Krakoa itself. Caves and tunnels of stone that had sprung up overnight like giant mushrooms, with natural holes to serve as windows and crystals that jutted from the ‘sills’ to cast colored light on the opposite walls, twisting overheads of massive tree roots risen from the ground ensnared by whole forests worth of vines and flowers, spiraling fungi steps leading up to second ‘floors’ made of branches so wide and flat on top they served easily as walkways for multiple people to mingle upon. And as the sun set, genetically engineered insects, flowers, lichens, and more fungi lit up the dusk with their natural glow. Well, natural-ish. Mantis found it all very interesting. She’d always had an inborn empathy with nature, and her connection to plant life in particular had only been enhanced by her union with the Prime Cotati as the Celestial Madonna. Therefore, she’d been keen to communicate not simply with Krakoa itself, but all the organisms upon it—and no, she didn’t mean mutants. She wanted to know how these flowers and lichens and so on felt about their modification and utilization as decor for these invasive meat-creatures. Their responses varied, as with any population, but most seemed content enough with the situation. She’d also found it quite interesting to communicate with a fellow guest, Radha “Haven” Dastoor. A human philanthropist with a long history of supporting all those downtrodden or oppressed, she was the only current human member of Krakoa’s Inner Circle of the Hellfire Trading Company. Appointed its Black Queen, she was a liaison to both the human world, and invaluable as someone who knew where the miracle drugs of the famous island flora were needed most, and how to distribute them. What was of interest to Mantis though, was the woman’s. . .vibes, might be the most accurate word in English. Again, Mantis was a keenly sensitive individual even before her link to vegetation formed, and that extended to people. It seemed Haven, though she possessed no superpowers, was the same. The older woman had seen her off by herself—well, seemingly by herself, if you didn’t count non-animal life forms!---and how she appeared entranced with the plants before her, touching them with her antenna, for Mantis spoke to them without words, in their own language. She’d approached, and inquired most politely about it. Sensing her sincerity, Mantis explained, and she felt the most exquisite reaction of wonder and joy from this Haven! Haven found this a fantastic thing, and she told Mantis so, setting off their conversation. And through that conversation, Mantis could feel a bond growing between them rapidly, and what was more, she could feel Haven feeling it as well! Emotions and words flowed rapidly and naturally between the women like two rivers mixing their waters, and in minutes it was if they’d been lifelong friends. These two were not the only ones finding common ground. Two agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, Carmilla “Scorpion” Black and Aurora “Lightwave” Dante, were also hitting it off. Despite both being employed with the same organization, and both superpowered women of similar youth, they’d actually never met before til now, when they were sent in attendance together after receiving their mutual invites. “I wasn’t sure I even counted as a mutant, to be honest,” Scorpion was telling Lightwave, “I mean, my powers came at sixteen, yeah, and it happened on its own, no radioactive scorpions involved, but I thought that was all due to my bio-monster’s genetic engineering.” “I guess maybe it could be a little of both?” Lightwave suggested, “Maybe you always had the X-gene, and your mom just played around with how it manifested.” “Well, given how it ended up actually SAVING me from her brainwashing chemicals, that would make a lot of sense. There’s no way she’d have arranged for THAT deliberately.” “That’s the old unpredictable x-factor!” Lightwave quipped, “You never know what it’s gonna do or how it’s gonna do it! I think that’s actually why it’s named that.” “Really? I always figured it was after that Professor X guy, didn’t he discover it?” ���He did, and he named it, but I heard it wasn’t after himself, it was—oh, hi, can we help you?” “I apologize so much for interrupting,” said the dark-skinned woman who had approached them. She was beautiful, older than the pair of them but surely not out of her 30s, maybe not even into them, her sleek black hair in a chin-length bob and her black-and-gold gown in an Egyptian-inspired design. “But you, in the fetching green number. . .you are the one they call Stinger?” “I’m Scorpion. This is Stinger,” Scorpion lifted her left arm and pointed to it with her right one. The latter was covered in a long ruched sleeve that matched the skirt of her dress, but the former was bare save for a metal armlet from which metal fringes and small spikes, matching her earrings, dangled, and a metal bracelet linked to a ring, with a dazzling green gem between them set on the back of her hand. This ring-bracelet was a modified version of the gauntlet specially constructed by S.H.I.E.L.D to help her better control the discharges from Stinger, as she called her left arm. Normally, the gauntlet contracted into a much plainer little bracelet for her civilian-wear, but the good folks in the SHIELD labs had crafted her a bauble more befitting this occasion. “I see,” said the woman sweetly, and the smile at her lips was looking less polite and more.  . .intrigued? Pleased? Anticipatory? “Why do you ask?” Lightwave said, feeling a bit odd about all this, and a bit left out of the conversation. “I’m Asp, of the Serpent Society,” the woman replied, “And while I’ve yet to take up residence on this lovely island, I’m a mutant myself—one of the few among my cohorts whose powers are all-natural. All-natural and—very similar to yours.” She darted her eyes towards Scorpion, and continued, “I can fire blasts of energy from my hands—both hands—that has an effect on the body like that of a venomous snake. You call yours a sting; I liken mine to a bite.” “Uh huh, cool,” Scorpion was somehow both bored and suspicious, and placed her hands on her waist, “So our powers are vaguely alike. Anything else you wanted to tell me?” Unresponsive to the rise of rudeness in the younger woman’s tone, Asp continued in her own polite one, though there was a persuasive silkiness to it now, “I’ve been propositioned by a few residents of Krakoa to partake in a game of chance. They want to take bets on which of us has a better venom-blast. And the winner gets a cut of the pot.” Scorpion looked at her hard. Lightwave tensed, unsure of what the outcome would be. “Nah,” said Scorpion, “My powers aren’t a game for me, lady. I don’t play with them like one.” “Oh, what a pity,” said Asp primly, “I did so hope you’d be a willing participant.” “What’s that supposed to mea–” Scorpion was cut off as Asp fired a venom blast towards her; Scorpion’s quick reflexes allowed her to jump out of the way, but it still would have grazed her calf if not for Lightwave’s equally quick force shield. Asp readied another blast, but was caught from behind by tendrils of darkness that bound her arms to the sides and lifted her off her feet. Behind her, controlling the solid shadows, hovered a slender blonde woman, dressed in Gala regalia was well. Darkstar, aka Laynia Petrovna, a recently arrived resident on Krakoa who had defected from service to the Russian government. “No fighting is allowed here! You know the rules!” Darkstar commanded. “We’re not…ungh…fighting. . .we’re competing!” Asp gasped, straining against her umbrous bonds. Darkstar looked to Scorpion and Lightwave for confirmation.  . .or lack thereof. “Yeah,” Scorpion said after a moment, “We were just testing our powers against each other. They’re pretty similar so we wanted to see who packed more poison.” Lightwave looked at her comrade in surprise, but didn’t contradict her. “Hmm,” Darkstar evaluated the situation. She’d wanted to be useful to the nation of Krakoa, as they had shown her great mercy by allowing her here, and she was consuming resources of the island, and she wished to give back to its people, protect them, as she had protected those of Mother Russia. To this end, she’d been appointed a reserve X-Man, and in the meantime given a great many menial tasks. For instance, Gala security. She lowered herself down, and released Asp, stating, “Games of skill are permitted as part of the Gala’s activities, but please, use an area designated for such. I will guide you to one and supervise.” Asp looked irritated, but all she said was, “Thank you so much.” As Darkstar lead the way, Lightwave whispered to Scorpion, “Why did you say that?” “Because I can handle myself,” Scorpion whispered back, “I don’t need KG-Blondie coming to my rescue. This lady really wants a fight? Fine.” Meanwhile, Asp was calling some friends on her little snake-themed cell phone, and by the time the trio arrived with Darkstar to the clearing, there was already a little crowd of interested parties waiting. “This better be a good show and a good pot, love,” Pyro quipped at Asp, “I left a bonzer card game for this!” “You were losing,” Phantazia pointed out. “Not for long I wasn’t gonna be!” Scorpion and Lightwave weren’t the only guests experiencing some. . .conflict. “Oh dear me, Ajak, you may be divine these days, but that dress surely is not!” Sinister crowed at the Eternal, “Oh my, wait, no—Dante did write the Divine Comedy, did he not? That must be what he meant!” Ajak had come to the Gala not as Ajak Celestia, but as herself. Somehow. Yet she had allegedly not unfused with the Progenitor. According to her, this was but a tangible aspect of herself, continuing to experience the world as an individual while her whole remained at her post, watching the world and waiting for the right time to pass the final judgement upon it all. Right now though, she was being judged, quite harshly, by Sinister. Or rather, her sartorial choices were. And while Ajak was not one who took pride in fashion, pride she did have, much too much so to be mocked by this obscenity before her that called itself Sinister. “You were gagged and shackled by me before,” Ajak warned coolly, “Do not tempt me to do so again.” “Oh, you’re not the one I’d want doing that,” Sinister assured, “But Bennett, dear, have you seen Shaw around? He might be into it.” Exodus and Ajak both looked confused, but Makkari, who had been doing her best to diffuse things, looked disgusted. Unlike the other two, she’d spent a long time in the modern world, after all. But she needn’t have worried. No one had seen Shaw for quite some time this evening. How very odd. Very, very odd. Wherever Shaw was, though, he wasn’t with Haven. Nor was Exodus. Nor was Ajak. Save for Mantis, she was alone. And Mantis, she said, suddenly had an engagement. So scratch that. Haven was alone when a column of darkness solidified before her into none other than Selene, Black Priestess! Priestess to what? The ultimate goddess—-herself of course! “You wretched little creature!” the sorcerous mutant spat as tendrils of her darkness reached out and wrapped around Haven, flexible as vines and strong as chains, “You truly thought you could usurp my place?! You thought it was yours to take and Shaw’s to give?! He’s been dealt with and now so shall y–” Selene was cut off by a kick to the back of her head that would have decapitated a mere mortal. . .or a mutant who wasn’t smart enough to have protectively enchanted her body since that little upstart snipe(r) Hope had shot her. “This one thinks not!” Mantis cried, having used the kick to push herself away from Selene once more and land dramatically near Haven, whose bonds had momentarily loosened due to Selene’s distraction. Loosened. . .but, Mantis found when she tried to free her new friend, not enough. “This one sensed something was afoot!” she explained, in her customary third-person speaking style. It was not due to lack of understanding so-called “proper” English, but a very deliberate way of distancing herself from the ego of the words “I” and “me” as the Pama Priests had taught her. “So you hid in the shadows til I emerged,” Selene emerged, looming over her new opponent, “Very clever—but you’d have been far more clever to avoid the Black Queen!” As she spoke, the rocks and stones around them levitating and hurled down towards Mantis like comets. She leaped into the air once more, using them as stepping stones, trying to get back to Selene. The rocks, meanwhile, avoided Haven; Selene had far more personal plans in store for her attempted replacement. Selene’s telekinesis could only affect inanimate objects. Plants, though perhaps not as mobile as their meaty counterparts, were not inanimate. They were beyond her control. But they answered to another mistress—Mantis, the Celestial Madonna! As she bounded from rock to rock while avoiding being hit by the same projectiles she climbed, she still managed to direct a portion of her mental energy towards summoning the aid of the surrounding flora—something Krakoa was plentiful in! Flowers, ferns, and moss, they all came to her aid, the trees themselves bending to swing their mighty branches at the black-clad witch, as though nature itself were trying to banish her unnatural presence. But Selene just cackled, and the foliage before her burst into flames. For pyrokinesis was on her list of myriad talents mutant and magical. Still, even this defeat served its purpose for Mantis, who used the Black Priestess’s moment of triumph as a distraction to lunge at her! But Selene met this too with laughter, welcoming Mantis into her arms—arms whose skin instantly began to drain the life itself from the Celestial Madonna’s flesh! “My what truly potent energy you have!” Selene crowed, “So unique! Those senses of yours didn’t tell you what MY true gift is, did they? To drain your life and make it my own! Don’t fret though, you won’t die—you will live for eternity in ME!” “The only place of eternity for you is the PIT!” Darkstar had joined the fray. Like Mantis, she too had sensed a disturbance in the force—the Darkforce, specifically, which Selene was calling upon for her shadow manipulation. She couldn’t commandeer the shadows that were holding Haven, but she could at least summon her own to save Mantis, engulfing the former Avenger in a Darkforce teleportation portal, sending her somewhere safer. Alas, that also meant that Mantis was out of the fight, especially since those unused to traveling through the Darkforce dimension were often drained by it, physically and mentally. Even now, mere prolonged contact with it was probably harming Haven on both fronts. Darkstar knew she had to end this fast. Selene, however, had no intention of cooperating with that notion. The two Darkforce wielders went at it, firing their obsidian elemental energies at each other. But while Darkstar’s power was the Darkforce alone, Selene had many other abilities at her disposal, and Darkstar was fading fast against them. Finally, she fell from the sky, her fancy feathered Gala dress in a heap around her, giving her the likeness of a bird that had crashed into a windowpane. There was a roar of fire around her as a ring of enchanted flame encircled her, then formed a dome above her. She tried to teleport, but could not even call upon that much. The Darkforce has closed its doors to you, my dear, Selene’s voice spoke in her head, You are but its friend—I am its QUEEN! Don’t fret though; you won’t be burned unless you try to escape. After all, if Darkstar died, she might remember what happened to Haven the human when she woke up. Selene would need to make some modifications to her memory first. Not normally within Selene’s telepathic abilities, which were in fact relatively minor ones, but sorcery was always a boost. And the enlisted aid of mutants too afraid to say no, of course. Selene sauntered now to the still-imprisoned Haven, who seemed to be awaiting her fate impassively. “No begging? No pleading? I’m almost disappointed by your dignity. Or are you just so purely petrified? I know it can’t be that you’re actually RESPECTFUL enough to hold your tongue in the presence of a goddess,” Selene crooned, “After all, you had no respect when you accepted MY place and title!” “I do beg you not to do this,” Haven said, her brown eyes indeed imploring, “For your sake. You will harm yourself, horribly, if you try to–” “HA!” Selene cut her off with a derisive laugh, tossing her elegant head back so her elaborate necklace jewels gleamed in the fire’s light, “You think those FOOLS on the Quiet Council can imprison ME? They couldn’t even keep me dead!” “We’ll do better,” said a new voice. For the third time, a new player had entered Selene’s scene to save Haven. Or rather, two new players. Haven had been physically silent through the whole ordeal, but she’d been mentally calling out to Ajak and Exodus the entire time. Alas, Exodus and Ajak had become. . .engaged. . .with Sinister in a psychic. . .dispute. . .and Makkari was as telepathically Deaf as she was physically. It was only now that Exodus had things, er, handled, that he and Ajak got the message. Exodus was required to stay behind to keep Sinister contained, but Ajak and Makkari were now free to handle matters for their friend. “Oh, the so-called gods arrive,” Selene seemed unimpressed, “Truth me told, I’m rather pleased to see you. I’ve long wanted to test your mettle against–” She was cut off by a massive energy blast by Ajak. At the same time, Makkari rushed behind Selene as she was blasted backwards, pummeling her rapidly in the back with such strength and speed that even her magically enhanced body buckled. The ebony prison around Haven did the same, slackening and then dissipating entirely, and Haven fell to her knees, drained by the contact with the Darkforce. At the same time, the fire imprisoning Darkstar disappeared, though the Russian could not yet use her powers again. Selene put up a valiant fight; she was no pushover. But the Eternals could manipulate cosmic energy, move at high speeds, lift over 15 tons, and, most importantly, never tire. For all her power, Selene could be worn down. Ajak and Makkari could not. And when the former was spent, by coincidence, she had collapsed right next to Haven. Still conscious, her body now rapidly withering into a crone from the expenditure of energy, she knew she could not win. . .but she could at least do what she had set out to, and to replenish her youth in the process. “No!” Haven cried out as Selene reached for her, “Selene, don’t! It’s dang–” She was silenced as Selene began to sap her energy, and Makkari and Ajak both rushed to intervene. Makkari’s speed was more than adequate to get there before Selene’s skin even made contact with Haven, and yet her incredible strength could not separate them. But it was not Selene who was keeping Haven trapped; it was vice versa. Haven and Selene were both howling, Selene in pain, Haven in sympathy as she tried to free the other woman from her own body. Yet even as Haven successfully pushed her away, Selene’s body continued draining the energy from Haven. Makkari and Ajak could SEE it crackling in the air, linking the women’s bodies. “Help her!” Haven cried out to the confused Eternals, “The demonic energy—it’s too much, it’s going to destroy her from inside–” Ajak and Makkari didn’t exactly understand, and frankly neither of them were inclined to help Selene at all, but Haven’s distress was a motivator if nothing else for Ajak in particular. But. . .what could they do? Not knowing what else to do, Ajak ran to Haven and grabbed her, preparing to get her out of there, away from having to watch whatever was going to happen to Selene. And this turned out to be the correct move. Ajak’s body had moved between the energy streams that had linked the women, and in doing so, had severed them. . .no, not severed them. Ajak’s cosmic energy that fueled her nigh-indestructible body flowed now along the current into Selene just before it disappeared. Even this tiny transfer was a life-saving boost, saving the sorceress and restoring her youth in the bargain. But she was still powerless, on her hands and knees, her head down, unable to even speak, panting in pain on the grass. What was that? Makkari signed, and Ajak relayed it to Haven as always. “I’ll.  ..explain,” said Haven, hesitantly, as if she didn’t wish to, “But first. . .” She knelt beside Selene, placing a steadying hand on her. Selene tried to shrink from her instinctively, like a scared animal, and only ended up collapsing into the lap of her would-be prey. Haven held her gently, trying to comfort her while also keeping the woman’s pride and dignity in mind, “I’m sorry. It’s very unjust to you, isn’t it?” Because Haven knew that, from Selene’s point of view, it likely was. She had never met the former Black Queen before, but Shaw had told her about her extensively, and she’d also been able to garner Selene’s perspective quite well from the things she’d said to her in this encounter. And what she had garnered was that Selene was as locked into her own perspective as Haven had once been in. For which Haven could not blame her; changing one’s mind was hard enough, and Selene had held hers for thousands of years. And it must be such a comforting one; she never questioned her own worth or place in the universe, her reason for being here or the purpose of her long life or the morality of taking the lives of others to sustain it. To step away from that belief.  . .why, it might literally kill her. She was what she was, and Haven loved her. She loved everyone. Which was why she asked the others not to tell the Council about this. Darkstar could not agree. She was dutiful to Krakoa’s laws. But Haven’s request for mercy would also be relayed, she promised. Mantis was fine, as were, of course, Ajak and Makkari. Haven was weakened, but wished to remain at the Gala after Selene was taken away by Exodus. And she did give that explanation to the Eternals. “The thing that lived in me once. . .is gone,” she said, each word a labor, “But some remnants of its power. . .” The Eternals both nodded grimly. She did not continue and they did not urge her to. As for Scorpion and Asp’s contest, the moment Darkstar left, it no longer had a referee, and the spectators swiftly decided they wanted to be PARTICIPANTS instead. It was an absolute disaster and a good time was had by all involved! Oh, and Shaw was er. . .fine. If you care. END

[mypralaya]

When you finally decide to make a Google Doc to hand off to new people for when you begin yammering to them about Haven

[hraunwyf]

@mypralaya​

“what the fuck.”

loki hates cosmic awareness sometimes, but at least the initial little shock of seeing this woman is only a quiet curse under her breath. that’s a lot of familiarity and very, very quickly. it’s like a joke. a big, funny, cosmic joke, right? hey, loki? there’s another bitch out here who knows what cursed children and apocalypse burdens are like. welcome to your own personal microcosm.

“hey—it’s dastoor, right? radha dastoor? can i talk to you?”

[katatonicimpression]

Part 3

(Parts 1, 2, 4, 5 & 6)

[emmatriarchy]

The Maiden, The Mother, The Crone 

[thisiswhatwereupagainst]

For @xmenofcolor‘s “Family” theme (and a bit the “AU” theme)  Radha “Haven” Dastoor and her brother Aloba “Monsoon” Dastoor for a formal event! Could be Hellfire Gala, could be something else. I referenced Haven’s outfit from THIS AWESOME SUGGESTION by @marvellfashion​! Fun fact, the turban that Monsoon is wearing is called a pheta, and it’s a traditional style worn in Maharashtra, where the Dastoors are from! Which is why I picked it, I thought it would be a nice touch and they’re so beautiful so it was very fun to draw! The pattern I used for Monsoon’s sherwani is from HERE

[marvellfashion]

Radha Dastoor in X-Factor (1986) #97 & 98

Thanks @sebastianshaw for submitting her a few weeks ago 😊

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

"It must be nesting here now."

“I think it’s more than just nesting, luv,” Pyro said, the light from the fireball in his hand playing across the egg sacs plastered on the walls and ceiling…..as well as ominous piles of bones scattered across the floor. Bloody hell, there must be hundreds of them. And where was the mother?

“Well, at least we can take care of this right quick. Head on back to the entrance, Haven. It’s gonna get pretty hot in here.” He wondered why Haven had been sent on the mission in the first place. What could a human do against a nest of Dire Wraith eggs?

“Wait, what are you going to do?” The flickering light played across her eyes, wide and innocent, like a kitten on it’s way to the pound.

“Only thing to do, luv. Kill it with fire. I suppose we should nuke it from orbit, it’s the only way to be sure, but this is less messy.”

“No!” Haven grabbed at his wrist, her voice suddenly commanding, showing the woman who had once run an international (terrorist) organization. “They’re just babies, you can’t murder them!”

“Haven, do you see the bones on the floor? And that’s just from one of them! These things eat anything and everything! They’re a threat to anything living close by, and that includes cute little baby animals! And cute little baby humans!”

“I know, but….” Haven faltered for a moment. “They can’t help their nature. They just need food. If we can feed them – “

She was interrupted as one of the eggs started to crack open.

“If we stick around here we’ll be feeding them, all right!” Pyro exclaimed, raising his flamethrower. “Get out of here, Haven! You won’t come back after they pick our bones clean!”

“St. John, please! There must be another way!” Haven clung to his wrist, forcing his hand down with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, we don’t have time for this!” Pyro snapped. He grabbed Haven around the waist and turned towards the entrance. Once they were safely away, he could turn the cave’s interior into a firey inferno, hopefully before any of the precious little baby Dire Wraiths started crawling away.

He stopped short. Towering over them in the cave’s entrance was, Pyro presumed, the mother. And didn’t she look unhappy?

“God damn it! Haven, get behind me!” But there was nowhere safe, was there? Hatching (hungry!) eggs behind them, angry mother in front. And Haven would be caught in the crossfire if he just started burning things indiscriminately.

Pyro’s train of panicked thought was cut off as Haven shoved him to one side, walking up to the Dire Wraith mother, her back straight and determined.

“Haven, don’t! Please, get back, luv!” He could still send the fire slithering around her, but in the cramped space, it would be all too easy for her long hair and flowing sari to go up in flames. But what choice did he have? Any second now, the Dire Wraith queen would lean forward and bite the poor woman in half, and Haven was human, she would never come back….

The Dire Wraith had paused, and was peering intently down at at Haven’s upraised hand. In her palm, laid out like an offering, was a bag of salt and vinegar crisps.

Ten minutes later, Pyro was gaping in wonder as Haven fed raw meat (retrieved from the Marauder’s kitchen) to the Dire Wraith hatchlings, who swarmed and squealed as she tossed it into their midst. The queen mother had transformed into a stunningly beautiful woman with a Russian accent and a very skimpy outfit, who was now gushing about her “babies.”

Pyro stood carefully between the two of them, although Haven was nodding along with a beatific smile. He didn’t entirely trust Ms. Russian-Stripper-Secret-Dire-Wraith. There was a predatory coldness in her eyes when she looked at the two of them, very similar to the way that she looked at the raw meat in Haven’s hands. The only time a hint of warmth entered her expression was when she looked at the ugly little hatchlings. Yet Haven was cooing over them like they were fluffy ducklings.

There would be quick calls back to Krakoa to make arrangements. They would probably wind up portioning off some territory for the Dire Wraith babies, along with giving them a steady supply of food.

Probably nowhere near any kind of human population….but Pyro had heard that Mars was lovely this time of the year.

[thecorteztwins]

@xmenofcolor Radha “Haven” Dastoor and Shinobi Shaw never met in canon, but...Shinobi is baby, Haven needs a baby (since her unborn child got possessed by an entity of cosmic evil and turned her into a supervillain for 20 years before killing her, bad times) and I love them both, so this seemed right. No theme, just another messy sketch with messy coloring that didn’t have time to become a proper piece, but I still wanted to share in order to bring attention to these rather obscure and very underrated characters!

[teal-bandit]

I thought maybe @thecorteztwins might appreciate a little Haven. As a treat.

[xprojectrpg]

Moment of Awesome - Quentin Quire/Kid Omega: In the astral plane, Quentin explains to Radha that despite their shared goals he couldn't adhere to her future, before giving her exactly what she wanted.

Good luck. Still struggling to breathe after suffering death and rebirth second-hand, Quentin turned his full attention to Radha Dastoor. She could unmake him in a second, just like Josie, but without an audience to impress by putting him back together. He had to make this quick. He was already psychically reaching for the moorings as he began to speak.

"I wanted to believe you, Radha," he repeated with the same gentle, earnest tone he'd used when he'd first ingratiated himself to Haven. Then, it was an act to get on this good side. But there was no insincerity now. "And some part of me still does. I think you can help save the world. But not like this. Bringing about the Mahapralaya yourself and damning eight billion people to an ugly end is vulgar. This can't be how mutants win."

“It’s not how we win, you fool,” Radha hissed, all charm gone. “It’s how we survive. I thought you understood that. It’s why I need you, to make Haven strong. If Haven dies, if I don’t live, then no mutant does!”

"See, that kind of threat is why as hard as I tried, my own cynicism ultimately won out. I hope you didn't think I'd bolster your power without having a way to take it all back. So, Haven will survive, safely ensconced within the astral plane, but there's no road back.”

The telepath opened himself to the limitless power of the astral plane to become its living conduit. His eyes blazed with brilliant pink energy again as he directed that potential to shatter the scaffolding he had so carefully built over the last month. All that work so easily undone.

“The Mahapralaya will not come because you will not be there to bring it about. You wanted to rule what's left of a broken world? Well, here you go. What you ordered versus what you received. Bon appetit."

With a snap of his fingers, a tear in the lush scenery opened up behind Quentin, which instantly mended itself as he stepped back through it to take his own route home. The final scaffolding that bridged the real world to Radha's heart collapsed in his wake. The road back was gone by the time he passed the threshold to reality as if it had never been there, leaving Haven alone, lost forever in the sea of psychic aether that was the astral plane.

[sebastianshaw]

Happy Diwali from Haven!

[mypralaya]

draggeddowntothedark​:

“It’s okay, you don’t need to explain yourself.” Some people had a fear of dogs. And she was being real polite about it, even if it was clear she was scared out of her wits.

Megan turned to Bones, who was sitting down, wagging his tail back and forth. “Bones, home. Go on now. Home.” Megan dropped the leash, but her dog knew the command. Bones ‘wuffed’ quietly and trotted away, headed back down the street and turning the corner. Megan knew the odds of anyone trying to steal a dog the size of a small horse was zero to none, and they were only a block or two away from the apartment. Angela was still in the office, she’d let the dog in.

“He’ll be all right. I could tell him home across the city and he’d get back safe.” She turned back to the other woman and offered her hand. “I am so sorry about this, I’m Megan. Let me help you down, there’s a cafe just down the way where I get tea most days. Let me buy you a cup, something to calm your nerves, all right?”

“You’re very kind,” Haven said, taking her hand and picking her way down as delicately as she could, “Thank you for being so understanding. I’m very impressed---he’ll really go right home? You must have him incredibly trained! And he must be very smart.” He really had been a magnificent beast. Just, that was the problem.  “Oh, I would love that, thank you. And I’m sorry to have spoiled your walk with him! I’m Radha Dastoor, by the way---most people call me Haven. ”

draggeddowntothedark​:

Oh lord-

“Bones! Sit!”

The mastiff plopped down on his butt immediately, panting excitedly but no longer trying to get too close to the stranger woman. Megan forced the dog back, her cheeks hotter than hell as she realized quite quickly this woman was not good with dogs.

“I am so, so sorry, hon, you all right?” Megan put herself between Bones and the stranger, eyes wide with concern. “He won’t hurt you, cross my heart, but he can be a bit of a fright to those not expecting him to just come up and make friends.”

Despite the fact Bones had sat as told and was clearly a good obedient boy, and despite the owner’s assurances, Haven did not climb down because, well, she couldn’t. Not because she was too high, she was just simply standing on the streetlamp’s base, it was one single step downwards, but because she couldn’t make herself. It was really all she could do to regain her composure enough to speak and get out, “I’m sure he is---he’s clearly tame, he did exactly as you said---just---oh, I’m afraid I’m just terrified of dogs. It’s not his fault, I just---it’s an automatic response--I believe you, I really do, I just---I’m fine, he didn’t hurt me at all, it’s just, a bit of a phobia you might say.”