[The Otherworld] The Will of the Braddocks

To say that Betsy's entrance made an impression was an understatement. Everyone gawked at this woman moving through, looking as out of place as one could be at the Starlight Citadel. Though many of them recognized the lights and magicks that followed in her wake, many others were struck dumb by the queerness of it all. Where had she come from? What was someone like her doing here? Otherworld was no stranger to the fantastic and impossible, and this young woman certainly fit that description. Whatever their thoughts, they all gave Betsy a wide berth. Whatever she was dealing with, none of them wanted anything to do with it.

The guards at the gate were of a similar temperament. They were clad in the radiant iron and weave that all of the Starlight Citadel were known for. He appeared largely unmoved by Betsy's pleas, though he was certainly attentive to them. He stared at her plainly, befuddled by this series of events. His partner reacted similarly, going so far as to reach for his sword, but had yet to draw it.

"Oy dunno 'oo you t'ink y'are, miss, but ain't nobody jus' sees the Cap'n, or gets into the Citadel." He straightened his posture, looking down at Betsy with the temperament of a mundane police officer back home. It was a familiar disdain. "Wha' 'let you from, anyroad? Sure not from 'round the wagon, Shirley!"

The other gate guard realized what was going on, who this was, much sooner than his boisterous partner. "Uhh, Clive, I reckon tha'-"

"Don' tell 'ow to run me! I know 'oo... 'oo..." The man's words died in his throat, as both of them, and the growing crowd behind them, bore witness to the culmination of psionic might and mystical prowess that could only belong to the immaculate Captain Britain. Some still looked upon her with hesitation, recalling just a moment ago that their esteemed avatar of Britain was in fact that uncomely woman who had stormed in here as such. Most, however, dismissed such notions from their mind, and had no desire to invoke her fresh wrath. Clive was foremost among the latter.

"Y-yes, ruh, right away, Cap'n." Together, he and his fellow man (who was doing his best not to grin at the man's comeuppance) hurried to the double doors. Slowly, they pushed them ajar, allowing Betsy entry into the Citadel proper. While the exterior of this place was a beauty in its own way, the interior was truly beyond words. It was a wondrous, dazzling place, with more color and mystique than one dared approach with the breadth of the human lexicon. Much of this was new to Betsy, save perhaps for however long it had been since the last time she had visited Otherworld. Some that had been in the foyer stared at the Captain Britain as she strode through, though none of them tried to stop her. The woman was clearly on a mission.

It did not take Betsy long to find Brian. The throne room for the Citadel, while perched at its apex, was also the largest chamber, and easy to access for one capable of flight and superhuman speed. When Betsy got there, she would find among the small crowd only two people of note there. The first was her brother, clad from the neck down in the uniform of Captain Avalon. It was in many ways akin to the uniform he had worn in the past, though with darker colors, more striking to better represent the kingdom here to which he was sworn. The other person, with whom Brian was having an apparently friendly conversation with in the center of the chamber, before the currently vacant throne of the Starlight Citadel itself, was the unmistakable former Omniversal Majestrix: Opal Luna Saturnyne.




Upon seeing Betsy, in full armor no less, the two of them stopped, and stared. Brian's expression was of pleasant confusion, while the woman with him was smiling. "Betsy! We weren't expecting you. Is... everything alright?"

Opal Luna Saturnyne, all but hanging on Brian's shoulder, turned towards Betsy. She had the familiar expression of smiling with seeming nicety, a picturesque sovereign at home in this realm. A smile dripping with venom and disgust behind every facial muscle. It was how Saturnyne smiled every time she spoke to Betsy Braddock.




Brian looked at Betsy with confusion. Sympathetic confusion, bless his heart, but as was often the case, Brian appeared to be at a bit of a loss. "Uhh, sure, Betsy." He gave Opal a quick look, and immediately, the smile turned into a turned lip. The woman relented, stepping away from the two of them and looked elsewhere, arms folded neatly across her chest.

Brian took Betsy aside, leading her past the throne room and towards the personal chambers. He stopped at threshold, looking his sister over to see how she wa doing since he had last seen her... he couldn't recall when that was. In all, Brian looked worried. "What's going on, Betsy? You look..." He paused, weighing whether he wanted to say this. He did. "...terrible."

Brian blinked, shocked. He was not ready for this at all. He grabbed Betsy's hands, quickly steadying her. Then he took his arms around Betsy, pulling her into a tight embrace. For a long time, he did not let her go, nor did he say anything to her. Just as she did not say anything to him. Brian kept Betsy like this for as long as she needed. He had always done that for her, and it was no different here. Whatever Saturnyne had needed, or what all of Outworld needed, it could wait.


A familiar voice reached out from further within the room. Brian's personal chambers were spacious. Very spacious, even, enough for there to be multiple rooms within the suite that Brian had taken her back into. A familiar figure walked into view. She was holding a small child, one that looked very much like the woman carrying her. Like the man she was married to.



Brian, still keeping an arm around Betsy's shoulder, turned to look at his wife and child. "I'm not sure, dear. Betsy was just telling me something about you and... Guinevere? As in, King Arthur's wife? I didn't know she was still alive. When was this?"

Meggan grazed her daughter's cheek, thinking idly. "I, err... Who? No?" She continued walking towards them. As she drew closer, Meggan's head and hair shifted. Her blonde locks washed from pink to gray to air to blonde again. The pain in her eyes mirrored Betsy's own. "Betsy, what's wrong? You've lost your color!"

Meggan's form shifted more erratically as Betsy drew away and her emotions peaked, features briefly sharpening to reflect the near animalistic fear. A pang of her own hurt crossed her face, pushing herself to settle her form as she had to shush the restless babe in her arms.

Brian looked taken aback by Betsy's reaction, looking between his sister and his wife in pure befuddlement. In turn, Meggan looked at Brian in alarm, and they shared a look that clearly expressed their concern for Betsy's mental state. "Okay, what's going on here? You're not making any sense." Brian took a step between the two, not sure who he was trying to defend from who.

Meggan's look of concern, startled by the turn of events, persisted until she opened her mouth to speak and Betsy continued. In spite of her confusion, she could tell her teammate was dead serious, and her face hardened to determination. She held her tongue on any further questions and took in every word. Brian, too, saw the look on his wife's face and let things play out, though the wariness he carried about the whole thing was still clearly biased. Given the state of Betsy, how could he not be?

The question had Meggan's brow furrow a moment, knowing there were very few reasons Betsy could be asking a question like that. "I... told you I always wanted my own hero name. I never thought I deserved one. When I was given the name Gloriana, it filled me with such joy I let the soldiers of Valhalla call to me and I led them with a pride I never thought I would earn." She looks at Brian, eyes softening at the memory. "They gave me the name because I spoke of you. I filled them with happiness so many had not felt in such a long time... I never told you I'd wanted a title of my own. It felt like a frivolous, childish thing for someone like me to want, until I had one."

Her emotion talking about the memory fills the air with a more calm emotion - Brian's posture relaxes with his expression, and the baby's restless noises ease. Betsy knows the answer to be true. And that Meggan had made her promise not to tell Brian. She hadn't wanted him to know the extent of her hardships in the months leading up to their wedding, the toll that separation had taken on her. Maybe she felt ready to tell him now. Maybe she simply sensed the situation was dire enough that she could not hide it any longer.

On Brian's end, he took a moment, then turned to his sister and spoke calmly but firmly. "Betsy, you've hardly strung a sentence together since you got here. Burst in unexpectedly, half out of your mind, and the first thing you get out are cryptic interrogations. We're bearing with you, but you've got to tell us what's going on."