• OPEN •

[carmesi]

Who: wanda maximoff + others
When: may
Where: solvunn & horizon
What: catch-all for the month, along with backdated stuff for closure/track-keeping.
Warnings: tba!

Comments

✴︎ SOLVUNN • OTA • MAY

[carmesi]

( wanda is of the opinion that keeping busy is the best way to not allow room to think too much about previous events and how they may have skewed her feelings one way or the other, of the absence of a very important person in her day-to-day.

mornings that would otherwise be plagued with playful banter over whose turn it is to clean the animal shed or general complaints about spending too long in the bathroom are now a quiet affair. wanda feels rotten about it, walking quietly from room to room, as if wanting to keep ghostly aches from flaring up. she's in and out of the treehouse quickly and quietly, not wanting to run into anyone.

after all, there are plenty of repairs that need to be done in the commune, now that the storms are no more.

she takes the easy route, using her magic to make repairs, picking up broken parts of homes to fix them right up as they were, the planks and boards slightly less askew than they were before. where the forest grows, wanda urges broken branches to repair themselves, suggests to leaves and flowers to bloom, and then inserts a little flair in color—all in hopes to, perhaps, remove the guilt and pain that comes from the local children asking if she's seen nero.

nero. )

Look out.

( she intones, her voice hardly carrying an ounce of urgency, as she directs a tree's trunk to soar in the air, just about missing another summoned's head.

all of this is a precise dance of her hands and arms; it'd be remiss to get in the way. )

[furibund]

[ Moving forward was the only thing Nebula knew how to do in life. She knew without a doubt that lingering would easily swallow her up, so she doesn't allow herself to. She doesn't think about the weeks - months? years? surely, it truly felt like a life well lived - that had passed. Because it doesn't matter, it didn't matter. Here they were, living the same mundane life in this stupid little commune. ]

[ So she tells herself. So she tries to reinforce in herself. ]

[ Yet, the memories linger. The awareness of change apparent. Her eyes now feel like a stranger's despite the fact she knows if things had not been as they were in life they might have been that way now. It's funny, really, the stark contrasts of lives - And here she is thinking about it more than she said she would. It's difficult, though, the disconnect in her mind. How strange it feels to help rebuild things by hand. Not because she can't. She has not lost her skills to do so... ]

[ It's the flash of magic, of something in the corner of her eye that catches her attention to the familiar form. Turns her head away just as quickly; They're both busy. Work first - or it would be work if she didn't hear the woman's voice and the feeling of movement above her head. ]

[ Moves without hesitating to get out of the way of the shadow that formed above it and snaps it a look with a scowl: ]

Shouldn't you be looking out?

[ It lacks its harshness and snarl, but it's still a snap of concern. Once indiscernible coal eyes alight and flickering to the nearest child - mere feet away - giving way to why she responds the way she does. ]

Leave it on the ground, I'll chop it up for firewood.

[carmesi]

There's no point in chopping it up.

( because the truth is, even though wanda and nebula may very well be here for similar (if not the same) reasons, the fact of the matter is that they're bouncing off each other's energies like oil and water, refusing to coalesce. like radio waves that fail to sync up.

her voice is terse despite herself, glancing over at nebula for a moment, the difference in the other woman (physically, emotionally, mentally— overwhelming factors of things they are probably too chilled to want to talk about yet).

wanda pulls her arms wide apart, and her magic turns the fallen tree into perfect shaped, cut, and sanded wooden planks. she lets them fall atop each other, carefully eased down to the ground.

who will be the first to bring it up, that kinship, that friendship that had sparked in the long life they lived unbeknownst to themselves? )

You can carry those if you want.

( have something to do; a distraction, an excuse. )

✴︎ HORIZON • OTA • MAY

[carmesi]

( her visit into the horizon finds her not in her own space, but--rather--walking around what paths exist and finding which domains connect with one and the other. she knows her own space exists exactly as she wants it to, but it's with the aftermath of the rogue weather and the forced-upon godhood that makes her curious, instead, for the spaces around her own.

wanda isn't alone in her journey, though, taking mary for a walk, leash and all, as if she were taking a stroll in manhattan's central park. the dog approaches and sniffs everything, tugging her along.

there are horizon-spaces of people she is familiar with, but then there are others that are... new, definitely.

mary manages to escape her leashed bind, running towards the other presence nearby, and wanda doesn't fight to get her back. the dog behaves well, and all she wants to do is play. )

She goes crazy over a tennis ball.

( she offers, approaching with slow steps, coiling the leash between her hands. )

[inthenameofhades]

As it turns out, someone else has had the same idea as Wanda. Except in this case the dog in question is much, much bigger.

And also happens to possess three heads.

So as Mary approaches, the big red three-headed dog bounds over towards her, barrelling forward like a hairy freight train. But right before it seems like the dog will crash into her, he stops. Looks down at the much smaller dog. And then crouches down on his front paws, butt sticking in the air as his tail wags.

"Cerberus, wait...!" Zagreus yells from somewhere behind, before quickly arriving with a quick sequences of dashes. "Sorry, he's...a bit excited. I don't think he'd have ever seen a one-headed dog before."

[carmesi]

There have certainly been stranger things in Abraxas, and while the presence of a three-headed pooch is not entirely new as far as the scope of Wanda's general knowledge is concerned, it still causes her pause.

Luckily for both Cerberus and Zagreus, Mary has been configured, through Wanda's magic, to be as friendly as possible regardless of circumstances and impossibilities. There's an eagerness to the smaller dog, who yips and barks, tail also wagging, as she waits to see who or what will initiate the playful interaction.

"I don't think she's ever seen a three-headed one before, but—" a glance down, then at Zagreus, followed by a shrug. "Mary has a big enough personality."

[judgmentbolts]

[ Cid's horizon is relatively small; it's little more than a Fallen Ruin tucked into a hillside. The whole structure is overgrown with ivy, and all but the pathway is thick with wildflowers. It would be idyllic, if not for the storm clouds that hang over it all, grumbling with thunder and the threat of rain.

Cid is leaning against the doorway, smoking and brooding while Torgal noses around in the tall grass, searching for rabbits. Torgal seems to notice their visitors at the same moment he does, bounding over to the other dog, tail wagging. He dwarfs the smaller dog easily, but Torgal is polite and entirely aware of his size — Cid only glances at them before his gaze settles on the woman.

It's a strange sort of relief that he doesn't recognize her at all. No half-formed memories to sort through, just this once. ]

He's glad for a new friend, I'm sure. And whatever a tennis ball is. [ He tilts his head to indicate Torgal before he steps forward, holding out a hand. ] Cid.

[ There's something weighing on her, from the looks of her, but he certainly can't pretend he feels much different. ] It's not much, but you're welcome to let her run about here for a spell if you've nowhere to be in a hurry.

[carmesi]

( despite the grumbling of the clouds and the looming dark of incoming rain, this section in particular of the horizon is quite quiet. the tall man who broods against the doorway while smoking paints a picture of wanting to be left alone, but were it not for their two canine companions, perhaps they wouldn't even have crossed paths.

she wonders if perhaps mary came this way because she smelled another dog... if that can be called a dog, big beast as it is.

friendly enough, though, as she finishes approaching the man and takes his hand to shake. the accent, the deep curl of his voice, not knowing what a tennis ball is—it gives her the hint that this might be a stranger to modern times. )

Wanda.

( she pulls away and, finally, tucks away the leash into a large pocket of her jacket, she looks past towards torgal and mary, who sniff each other and bark now and then, excited to meet a new friend. )

I guess once the storm ended we all had the same idea of walking our dogs. ( as she steps closer, she answers already the question in the air: she isn't in a hurry, and mary is more than welcome to 'run about for a spell'. ) Yours looks more like a wolf.

...no clue on what tennis is?

[cryptsleeper]

Is that how it's classified?

[Alucard has taken his time in returning to the Horizon, focused instead on the world as it is and what he needed to do to ride out his first round of reactions to the 800 years condensed into all of three weeks. He's gone to the desert, had his tantriums, and is now working on what comes next.

But the Horizon still calls as a quiet space to sit and indulge in cooler air than the Free Cities offer this time of year. There is joy in walking through a late autumn forest that he knows will always have perfectly crisp leaves beneath his feet, along with the occasional surprise guest.

He crouches down, offering the dog a hand to sniff. Who knows how the somewhat undead smell to canine noses.]

[carmesi]

( a dog created from magic within the horizon might hold no real bearing of alucard's actual smell, despite mary being programmed to be as genuine as possible to a real-life dog. alucard's company is always welcome; even though wanda had been seeking some solitude of her own, his presence feels—in some ways—like a reflection of her own self.

she shrugs at his question.

while alucard crouches down to greet mary, wanda instead takes a step, then two, to the side and presses a hand onto the bark of a grand tree, feeling its solid texture under her hand. only then does she turn her head back towards him. )

You probably don't know what tennis is, huh?

✴︎ STEPHEN STRANGE

[carmesi]

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. )

𖥔˖

[sorser]

[It's sudden. He should have expected nothing less.

It's like water, surrounded by fractal stars. Stephen's instinct kicks in, the human intuition that has nothing to do with his training as a sorcerer: he kicks his feet, holds his breath, tilts his head up to look for a surface that isn't there. He sees only Wanda, and follows accordingly, until they're breaking the surface and he inhales for air.

Then Wanda asks him: are you alright?]

I...

[No, drowning is not a good association to anyone, but especially to Stephen. However, he pushes that thought down; it doesn't apply to him, and to be so shocked by the sensation is hardly Wanda's fault. She sounds apologetic for putting him in a situation that might bring back such dire memories, besides.

Wry-] Could use a towel.

✴︎ HENRY CREEL

[carmesi]

( and wanda, with a nod, motions at him to grab and open the jar himself. should she do everything for you, henry? the magic inside pulses, paused for a moment, before it seems to decide to draw out from the jar and, quite jarringly (pun intended), pull both henry and wanda within.

the world within is jagged, mirror blades cutting into their skin but drawing no blood.

wanda's faced is amused as the magic settles, as she finds herself looking up (or down?) towards henry, who is at opposites ends of her, a reverse of her current standing. )

Feeling sick yet?

( from motion sickness, she means. )

𖥔˖

[vecna]

[Yes. Do everything for him.

Being swept in... Reminds him, for a moment, of something unkind. Of wheeling through a sky filled with storm clouds and lighting that would lance and sear the skin. When the mirror blades draw near, he feels that spike of adrenaline he did, then, surging through him -- but they cut nothing. They do not hurt, they simply pass through and by.

Ha.

He's upside down, looking at her.]

It takes a little more than this to make me sick.

[Bold words, from a man who looks silly with his blond hair hanging down.]

✴︎ SAM WILSON

[carmesi]

( wanda just shrugs, tilting her head this way and that, relaxing into the cushions of the couch. mary, for her part, whines as her ears flatten at the sound of the thunder, and she is quickly absconding to join wanda up on the couch—where owner cuddles up to the big, scared pup. )

He needs it. That connection with his own faith, especially with us being here. After he had that dream of what happened to him back home— He won't say much, though.

( it's still a work in progress for wanda, who tries to get words out of matt to carefully assess how she can support him. )

—did you only come here to look at the storm?

( not that she minds the visit, but it seems like something is on his mind. )

𖥔˖

✴︎ CASSIAN ANDOR

[carmesi]

It's not that difficult for me.

( perhaps she's feeling cheeky enough to imply that what he sees is barely touching the surface of what her skills can do. wanda shows as much when she takes a step closer and—after a fraction of a pause—raises a hand to touch his arm lightly.

wanda doesn't feel the dampness of his jacket's sleeve, for as soon as she touches him, cassion will feel a warmth push through him. in mere seconds, he's dry again, making the towel he holds a bit of a waste. )

But to answer your question ( —she steps back, shrugging, ) It's been a little over two years. Whatever that time measures to for you.

( different worlds, different lunar cycles, perhaps. )

𖥔˖

[diametrically]

[ Long before arriving here, Cassian had learned not to assume anything about anyone. A species half his height could easily flip him on his back and steal every credit he had on him.

...Not that he's speaking from experience or anything.

That's why he watches with what is probably an air of respect when she drifts over to him, making his towel obsolete. He offers a nod of thanks before draping the towel over his shoulders. ]

We measure time in the same way. [ Thankfully. It's hard enough wrapping his mind around magic. ] Does that mean you wielded magic in your world?

✴︎ HIMEKA SUI

[carmesi]

( unsettled by everyone's shared experience of eight-hundred years of godhood, wanda wishes the return from that reverie unto the present time and their physical, actual bodies wasn't such a jarring experience—to feel like she is, once again, reliving nero's death.

his absence hits hard now, especially when considering that they had no time at all to coil and nurse into their grieving.

the treehouse feels quieter than ever. )

You can raise the temperature if you want.

( wanda ladles some water onto the hot stones, making more steam rise. outside this room, many logs burn for their benefit. she walks towards the benches, a towel on her front, before sitting down and leaning back. somehow this had seemed like a good idea, to work through — whatever needs to be worked one, but it feels like her sadness is even closer to her heart. )

...let's wait until the pool warms up before going on.

( the underground pool that nero worked so hard to build, that is. )

SAD SEESTERS TIME

[aquaveiled]

[ She misses it.

Is that bad? It's a little bad. There had been a heavy guilt in realizing that she was enjoying a life that had forgotten so much, where the weight of other responsibilities was lifted. Sure, she had done some awful things during it as well, but overall...it had been nice.

But they're back now. And despite the comforts of ignorance, Himeka prefers reality. The people she knows and loves.

Those that they miss.

The sauna he had worked so hard to create stood strong in the weeks there was no one to tend to it. What to do with the spaces that were full of Nero has not been openly discussed, not yet, but Himeka believes this one will stay as is. He'd thrown a fit when he found some of her shed scales in it before.

He won't ever again.

Himeka looks up from her thoughts, glance towards the entrance and then shakes her head. ]

I think it's fine.

[ She settles down next to the other woman. They are practiced in sharing companionable silences, but there's an emptiness in it now that wasn't there before. A Nero-shaped hole.

At the mention of the pool, she huffs, her breath adding to the warmth of the room. There's a pause before she says gently, ]

The last time I was in that pool I got scolded for not removing my shed.

✴︎ HILDA ✴︎ ROCKET

[carmesi]

( within her horizon, in one of the many empty apartments in the building, wanda has designed a secret one—a private room for herself and one of her closest friends that she cannot otherwise entertain in person in her tree home. it is a quaint little space, taken inspiration from what she had seen in magazines and tv alike. only hilda is privy to it and has a 'key' to it, making it so not even matt—who shares wanda's horizon-space—can make it in.

wanda stands up from the couch, holding up a mostly empty glass of wine, thinking of making her way towards the kitchen. )

You want some more? I'm sure there's ice cream or cake in the fridge. Your call.

( it is a self-indulgent girls night. )

And then you can tell me about what's going on with you and ( a wave of her hand about ) the whole Claude and Sylvain situation.

[theidlemaiden]

[ To say that she had been tickled pink (pinker than her hair and eyes) when Wanda had bestowed her what she saw as the greatest of all honors is an understatement. For all the bad things that could have resulted from their little jaunt into a possible future, Hilda was grateful that her friendship with Wanda had never wavered.

And while she may have shied away from the Horizon, she'd be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy being here for the very reason that whatever they ate or drank here didn't quite have lingering or lasting effects. A bright grin spreads across her face as she quickly stands up to join Wanda, stretching as she does so. ]

Why not both? We have to stay on theme for our indulgent girl's night.

[ The mention of Claude and Sylvain earns a slight groan. ]

I don't even know where to start, Wanda. [ Before she can go on however, a noise at the window gives her pause. ] Did you hear that?

✴︎ ROCKET

[carmesi]

( ever since they've returned from their shared hallucination of a future where they are gods, it has quite abruptly forced the current household members of the treehouse to deal with the fact that nero is gone. wanda returned to her conscious mind with the image of his body, stiff and bloodied, lifeless, in steve's arms. the silence was even more deafening as they made it back to solvunn.

nero's room remains untouched, door latched closed, as if no one dares to enter it.

wanda thinks that at least this time there are remnants of nero's life to feel grief over, but she hadn't expected it to hurt just as bad as not having anything at all to remember her loved ones by. it echoes in her mind, how she had told pietro to go—and what final words she could have offered were quiet sobs in the cold, brisk air of what remained of sokovia, as her brother was put to rest with so many others. even if it's something that has happened so often to her, wanda is no good at grieving.

it is late at night when sleep eludes her, waking up to the pain that winds itself inside her, drawing forth quiet sobs. wanda lies on her side in bed, in the fetal position, curling tighter onto herself.

try not to get yourself killed.

isn't that the last thing she had told nero, affectionately, as a joke? how much of this was coincidental, and how much of this was her casting a hex into the fabric of reality?

wanda is no good at grieving. )

[respiting]

[ Above Wanda's room she might hear the soft thumps of footsteps from the uppermost level's occupant, the hiss of something being dragged across the floorboards, the grind of metal being slotted into place with another something metal. There's a repetitive tap-tap-tapping, and the shrill sound of a drill piercing into wood.

Rocket works tirelessly, like something possessed and beyond sleep, and he's been at this now for hours upon hours — truthfully since they'd returned from their hallucinations and he started to remember everything; and since he'd passed by Nero's door only to remember that he wasn't coming back.

He doesn't share the same depth of history that Wanda and Himeka did with Nero, he knows that, but the loss still smarts. He hadn't known Yondu for long either. He didn't know Gamora for as long as he wanted to, and he hadn't spent as much time with Natasha or Thor or any of 'em as long as he should have, but despite his best efforts he'd somehow let them in and lost 'em all anyway — one by freakin' one.

Eventually the sounds stop as Rocket puts down his tools and leaves the countless little silly gadgets and weapons and half-started projects, the vast hollow emptiness in his chest making it almost hard to breathe. He thinks, well fuck, maybe this is it, this is how he goes after thirteen years ... and then he thinks, nah. This is just what it feels like when you lose a whole future only to come back to your present and you lose a friend, just trading in one loss for another.

It fucking sucks.

He isn't sure when he sneaks into Wanda's room, and he isn't sure why he does it either, like he assumes that because he can't sleep neither can she — it wouldn't be the first time nor would it be the last — but he does so now, noting the way she's curled up on herself, and crawls up onto her bed, settling at the end of it with his feet dangling over the edge. ]

I tried to get it to work, but there ain't any signal yet. [ he starts, with absolutely no preamble, no context, nothing. His voice is its familiar tone, gruff and matter-of-fact, but it's immensely tired, too, in the way that his brain isn't. ] It's too quiet.

✴︎ MATT

[carmesi]

( it has been a while since nocwich has opened up. has the opinion of the locals changed about them? is it somewhat more tense? wanda can't quite tell, but she figures that all that will come in due time. for now, wanda is contesting with her feelings about—so many things—

those eight-hundred years she lived in ignorant bliss of her time as a mortal, of nero's death still clawing at her inside like a pain she can't forget; there is so much that she hasn't quite yet wrapped her mind around, but if one thing were to be constant.

it's matt.

she meets him in a familiar spot, tucked away from most prying eyes. he is already there, waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, and wanda reaches out a hand to him as soon as they are close. her hand wraps around his wrist, warmly, and he is likely to tell from the tension in her jaw, the way her breathing is a little out of step, that she's not entirely okay. there is so much for them to talk about, too, about themselves. )

Hi.

( but wanda doesn't quite linger in distanced greetings, easily pressing into him in an embrace, wanting to be held. )

[catholica]

Hi.

( there is a lot for them to talk about and while he wishes they could just wave everything away, he knows they can't. there's a lot that had gone on between them that they probably need to examine.

but, he wants to focus on the fact that she's there with him so when her hand closes around his wrist, he pulls her into an embrace and kisses the top of her head. )

Good to see you.