Front and center. Somehow that feels fitting for you.
( a man who used to consider himself the center of everyone's world, a main character in his own right, layers and layers of arrogance keeping his insecurities from ever showing. wanda takes hold of the jar, the glass chiming under her touch, as if she were strumming a harp.
with one glance at stephen and a sideways grin to match his own, she pulls open the lid of the jar.
a whirlwind of magic envelopes them, and they are no longer within her horizon-space. instead, the rush of water clogs their ears, steals away at their breath, and they're floating in a cosmos of stars. dry as they may feel, however, their movements are dragged by the water tension, like swimming in jello. wanda draws up, motioning at stephen to follow her, breaching the surface with just a few kicks of their legs. what greets them is a silence that isn't, chords on a piano in disarray echoing over the vast stream of stars and lights.
they are wet now that they're above 'water', but they don't need to fight to stay afloat; the surface tension solid where air meets liquid. wanda pushes damp hair from her eyes, using her arms to keep herself upright, pressed to the soft upper layer. )
Are you alright?
( she knows about his sister, about how the concept of drowning can offset him. she doesn't bring it up if she doesn't need to, but hopefully he'll hear the apology in her words. wanda did not know the chosen jar would lead here. )
✴︎ STEPHEN STRANGE
( a man who used to consider himself the center of everyone's world, a main character in his own right, layers and layers of arrogance keeping his insecurities from ever showing. wanda takes hold of the jar, the glass chiming under her touch, as if she were strumming a harp.
with one glance at stephen and a sideways grin to match his own, she pulls open the lid of the jar.
a whirlwind of magic envelopes them, and they are no longer within her horizon-space. instead, the rush of water clogs their ears, steals away at their breath, and they're floating in a cosmos of stars. dry as they may feel, however, their movements are dragged by the water tension, like swimming in jello. wanda draws up, motioning at stephen to follow her, breaching the surface with just a few kicks of their legs. what greets them is a silence that isn't, chords on a piano in disarray echoing over the vast stream of stars and lights.
they are wet now that they're above 'water', but they don't need to fight to stay afloat; the surface tension solid where air meets liquid. wanda pushes damp hair from her eyes, using her arms to keep herself upright, pressed to the soft upper layer. )
Are you alright?
( she knows about his sister, about how the concept of drowning can offset him. she doesn't bring it up if she doesn't need to, but hopefully he'll hear the apology in her words. wanda did not know the chosen jar would lead here. )