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!
"I'm sure he'll do his best to behave," Wanda counters, hoping that the positive reinforcement reaches the big pooch. He seems intelligent enough to understand.
At the question, however, she turns her head back towards Zagreus.
"No. I created her here, and now she's anchored to the Horizon." But her story isn't half as interesting as that of a three-headed dog. She has, of course, read and heard and seen adaptations of the Greek gods and their myths. "Is this what the dog that guards the gate of hell looks like, then? A lot fluffier than what I imagined."
"He's fluffy and ferocious! Aren't you boy?" And at this point, apparently aware that he's being Given Praise, the massive hound trots over towards him. Zagreus reaches up and scratches the head on the right behind the ear. Its long yellow tongue lolls out of his mouth as it soaks up the attention.
"I suppose he's rather more intimidating when he's on the job. When he's guarding the gate he knows not to let anyone through. And...I do wonder if this version of Cerberus is a bit different from the real one. Because I'm the one that made him, so...he's only going to be how I remember him, isn't he?"
And to Zagreus, he was always the family pet, before any other role the hound might have.
Cerberus will be whatever Zagreus wishes for him to be, here in the Horizon. Giving life to creatures and other sentient beings within the Horizon has become more common, lately, and Wanda does wonder how much of that has to do with people becoming more intrinsically tied with both the magic of this world and the Singularity.
She takes a hesitant step forward towards the massive dog, Mary at Wanda's heel, and her hands are clammed, cross-armed, onto her elbows.
"Can I pet him?"
Once in a lifetime opportunity, even if it's not quite the real deal.
There's a look of surprise on his face, at her request. It's not something many people do, after all. Apart from his own family, most keep their distance from Cerberus. Even other members of the house.
But Wanda was mortal. Human. With some rather extraordinary powers, yes...but still human. And yet she was brave enough to ask to pet Cerberus, the fearsome guard dog of Hell.
Zagreus grins, and then looks to his dog. "What do you say, Cerberus? Will you let Wanda give you a pet? I know she's not family, but she's been very welcoming to me."
The massive three-headed hound pauses for a moment. And then with an affirmative rumble, settles down on the ground.
"His Gamma head is the only one that likes pets," Zagreus says, gesturing to the head in question. It's the one with one big yellow tongue hanging out.
For a moment, it feels as if she's overstepped and should feel rather foolish for asking such a request in the first place. Her knowledge of Greek myths isn't so deep, anyway, and perhaps she doesn't really know much of it at all; still, Zagreus has proven yet again to be pretty warm about things, taking it in stride.
"Thank you," she says, emphatically, not just towards Zagreus but to the dog, too. Mary, for her part, sits down, too, head tilting in consideration as Wanda approaches—an arm reaching forward, hand pressing onto the top of the main head.
The red fur feels a little more coarse than fluffy, but it's soft, nonetheless. She doesn't notice the smile that grows on her features as she lets her hand smooth all the way back towards the dog's ears, needing to stretch her back as she does so.
The Gamma head stretches his neck as it is pet, tongue lolling out and rumbling happily as she strokes his fur. Perhaps not all of Cerberus's heads like pets, but the one that does clearly likes them very much indeed.
"He is," Zagreus says softly, reaching up to give Cerberus a pat of his own. "Pretty sure he's everyone's favourite member of the family. And I must admit...I am glad to have him here with me. Even if he isn't the real one. I always know that Cerberus will be happy to see me."
After a few more seconds, Wanda pulls her hand back with a light smile, just in time for Zagreus to give Cerberus a pat of his own. It’s not so different from other dogs, but the experience at all is a unique one.
“In my world, we read stories about gods that I imagine you are in some way related to. I can’t say for a fact that they actually exist, but there are stories about Cerberus and the underworld.”
It isn’t all too difficult to make the connection.
"Yes, I was born in the Underworld." Something that his appearance also alluded to. Who else would accessorise with quite so many skulls? "My parents are Hades and Persephone."
Names he clearly expects her to know, if she was already familiar with Cerberus's. Zagreus doesn't expect his own name to be familiar to mortals - he knows he's rather obscure - but when it comes to his family, that's a different matter.
"And there's apparently other worlds where the gods do exist, but they're...hiding, or not really interacting with mortals anymore. Which is rather out of character for my family, but perhaps your world is similar?"
In a place like Solvunn, perhaps the skulls and bones wouldn't look so out of place. Wanda does find herself repeating the names, though, Hades and Persephone, right after Zagreus mentions them. There is obvious recognition in her expression about it— like she's not particularly surprised.
Wanda shakes her head.
"I'm afraid I don't know enough, though I have worked alongside Thor, the god of thunder in Norse myths. I imagine that would contradict Zeus' existence, but that's not my realm of expertise."
If Thor were still here, perhaps he could hold a more meaningful conversation with Zagreus about it.
It's best not to think about it, likely because it does make more sense to the likes of gods and their kin. Wanda's glimpses into the multiverse and other realms do give her an idea of it, but—
His statement makes her pause.
"I promise you that I am just mortal." Mate. How casual. "The only way my parents were special was because I loved them, not because they were the keepers of any realm."
It is a bit of a sore subject for Wanda, who wants to cling to her humanity as much as possible.
There's a look of confusion, of uncertainty, flashing across his face. He hadn't expected her to take her comment that way.
(Zagreus may be, as gods go, unusually friendly and empathetic. But he is still a god, who has spent his life among other gods. There are many ways in which he does not yet understand the experience and perspectives of mortals - and how his own unconscious biases might manifest.)
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to suggest...you're not any lessor for being mortal. You said you were just a mortal, and I thought...maybe that was something that was worrying you. But that was inconsiderate of me to assume, wasn't it?"
"I'm not offended," is immediately what she says, soon as he starts apologizing. Wanda knows that she can come off a bit strongly with the stoic and cold words; she was never the warm and friendly kind—that was her brother's role. "I imagine that if you live your life surrounded by non-mortal beings, it's easy to assume things."
And yet that doesn't sound quite as appeasing as she hopes.
Wanda sighs, waving a hand about herself.
"...I guess you're not entirely wrong. I'm different because of these powers I have back in my world. It's not always been a good thing in my life." Thus, the sore spot. "Is this the first time you've been around so many mortals?"
"...Yes, it is," Zagreus. "Or at least, the first time I've been around mortals who are still alive. Strictly speaking we have a great many former mortals in the Underworld, but...Shades aren't the quite the same. A few remain corporal, and retain much of who they were. But most can't hold onto so much of their former selves. Which I always knew, of course, but...it's different seeing it for myself."
And not just seeing it for himself; living among mortals. Having a host family, people who welcomed him into their home. It was a way of life entirely different from anything Zagreus had ever known.
He pauses, then, looking at her. "Your powers...I have heard that mortals can be wary of witches. Is that...something you've had to deal with?"
It is curious to think that before she hardly had someone she could talk about the occult and the supernatural with—even feeling out of depth regarding it herself, as she was flung into it after three decades of existence. Yet here is someone who sees all this as normal, who has interacted with shades in the Underworld.
As Zagreus speaks, Wanda looks about and finds herself a stone-sculpted bench to sit on (has it always been there—or did she fracture it into the non-reality of the Horizon?), listening.
"It seems that Abraxas offers a new experience for everyone, even if you and I have very different lives and backgrounds." That does say a lot about the kind of place they have been stuck in. And though he has asked her a question, Wanda remains firmly quiet about it, until the silence becomes almost unbearable, when she does actually speak. "I haven't been a witch for very long. It's not common, where I'm from, so my powers were considered... something else. Something a little more human than supernatural."
She smiles softly.
"I didn't need to be called a 'witch' to be considered dangerous, though. The modern world I'm from didn't know how to control me, so they feared me. I have lived many years on the run, even though all I wanted was to live a normal life."
And yet, her normal and ordinary is, to Zagreus, the new and unfamiliar. A world that he never expected to be able to experience for himself.
'Normal', as it turns out, is relative.
"Witches aren't common where I'm from either," he says. He doesn't sit with her - his dislike of sitting is far too strong - but he does stand with her, while Cerberus provides a solid presence at his back. "But they have Lady Hecate to guide them. Did you...have anyone to help guide you? People who didn't fear your abilities?"
He suspects that perhaps she didn't, if her powers were so rare as to be mistaken for something else. Or at least, she didn't have as many people to help her as she needed.
"I know about Hecate." The triple goddess; mother, maiden, crone. "I imagine you mean guiding them quite more literally, but I've used the moon to work around spells and concoctions."
Most literature demanded that kind of thing, even if Wanda isn't all too sure that Hecate herself had any dominion over things here.
There is another shake of her head, and Wanda shrugs, sitting back a touch, letting her feet rise a little over the ground—legs stretched out.
"I have learned most everything by myself. I do communicate with one of the gods here, so I use that as a basis, in a way."
"So...you didn't have anyone at all, did you?" He says, looking at her with a somber expression. "You haven't had a mentor to help you at all. I can't imagine what that must have been like."
Where would he be, if he hadn't had Achilles? Or Nyx, or even Skelly? Even when he was fighting his way through the Underworld...he still had the boons of the Olympians to aid him. He'd never really had to face his trials alone.
Wanda glances at him when it starts to sound that he feels a little bad for her and her circumstances. Sure, her life is far from being ideal and there are many times when she finds herself grieving for what she's lost or missed out on, still, but—
"I know this might not mean much to someone like you who isn't mortal, but I am thirty-four years old. I can handle myself." This much she says with an air of amusement. "The past is the past. I'm the master of my strengths and weaknesses now."
There is, indeed, a rather blank expression on his face as he looks at her.
"Is thirty-four very old, for a mortal?" he says. Clearly the number is meant to say something about her maturity. But he's lacking the proper frame of reference to properly understand it, beyond the fact that she seems to be using it as a statement of her experience.
"And of course, you're very capable - I certainly don't want to suggest otherwise. But I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't had my mentors to guide me...well, I'd still be failing to escape the Underworld. Probably wouldn't ever have found my mother. That you have been able to master your strengths and weaknesses, all on your own...it's impressive."
It likely isn't very old, but facts are that she's outlived the immediate members of her family. If that isn't a disheartening thought—
Wanda shrugs.
She is clearly cutting some corners in explaining how she's gotten here at all, but she doesn't need to regale every person she meets here with the turn of events that led her down a very dark path. So, Wanda focuses instead on something else.
At the mention of Zagreus's mother, Ceberus's ears have pricked up - and his heads look about, almost as if he's hoping that Persephone herself is about to appear.
"I did," he says, reaching up to give Cerberus a reassuring scratch. "She left after I was born. When I learned she existed...I had to go looking for her."
Surely there is a story there, perhaps one that rivals other mythological tales, but it also seems like it's a story that would involve quite a bit of more tangible family troubles than first meets the eye. She cannot imagine, as a mother, wanting to leave her children after they are born.
Wanda is going to assume that Zagreus found her ultimately, from what his words imply.
"She was!" Zagreus says brightly. "She was...gods. She was practically overjoyed. Being able to finally meet her...I can't say how much it meant to me."
But he pauses a moment. He knows what she's probably thinking. It's the same thing that most people end up thinking, when they learned that his mother was missing most his life.
"She thought I'd died, you see. When I was born," he explains. "Or...I did die. But she didn't know that Nyx managed to bring me back."
The assumption of her assumption would be correct, even if Wanda had a bit of a feeling that it wasn't quite as simple as that. Zagreus' joy of talking about his mother is quite endearing, how much love he holds for her.
"I see."
She figures this much makes sense, and Wanda can understand the pain a mother would feel should she think she lost her children, especially after birthing them.
"Sorry if these questions are very personal. I had children of my own, and they were really special, too so — I think I understand what your mother must have felt when she thought she lost you."
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At the question, however, she turns her head back towards Zagreus.
"No. I created her here, and now she's anchored to the Horizon." But her story isn't half as interesting as that of a three-headed dog. She has, of course, read and heard and seen adaptations of the Greek gods and their myths. "Is this what the dog that guards the gate of hell looks like, then? A lot fluffier than what I imagined."
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"I suppose he's rather more intimidating when he's on the job. When he's guarding the gate he knows not to let anyone through. And...I do wonder if this version of Cerberus is a bit different from the real one. Because I'm the one that made him, so...he's only going to be how I remember him, isn't he?"
And to Zagreus, he was always the family pet, before any other role the hound might have.
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She takes a hesitant step forward towards the massive dog, Mary at Wanda's heel, and her hands are clammed, cross-armed, onto her elbows.
"Can I pet him?"
Once in a lifetime opportunity, even if it's not quite the real deal.
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But Wanda was mortal. Human. With some rather extraordinary powers, yes...but still human. And yet she was brave enough to ask to pet Cerberus, the fearsome guard dog of Hell.
Zagreus grins, and then looks to his dog. "What do you say, Cerberus? Will you let Wanda give you a pet? I know she's not family, but she's been very welcoming to me."
The massive three-headed hound pauses for a moment. And then with an affirmative rumble, settles down on the ground.
"His Gamma head is the only one that likes pets," Zagreus says, gesturing to the head in question. It's the one with one big yellow tongue hanging out.
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"Thank you," she says, emphatically, not just towards Zagreus but to the dog, too. Mary, for her part, sits down, too, head tilting in consideration as Wanda approaches—an arm reaching forward, hand pressing onto the top of the main head.
The red fur feels a little more coarse than fluffy, but it's soft, nonetheless. She doesn't notice the smile that grows on her features as she lets her hand smooth all the way back towards the dog's ears, needing to stretch her back as she does so.
"He really is a very sweet boy."
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"He is," Zagreus says softly, reaching up to give Cerberus a pat of his own. "Pretty sure he's everyone's favourite member of the family. And I must admit...I am glad to have him here with me. Even if he isn't the real one. I always know that Cerberus will be happy to see me."
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“In my world, we read stories about gods that I imagine you are in some way related to. I can’t say for a fact that they actually exist, but there are stories about Cerberus and the underworld.”
It isn’t all too difficult to make the connection.
“Your family is from there, then?”
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Names he clearly expects her to know, if she was already familiar with Cerberus's. Zagreus doesn't expect his own name to be familiar to mortals - he knows he's rather obscure - but when it comes to his family, that's a different matter.
"And there's apparently other worlds where the gods do exist, but they're...hiding, or not really interacting with mortals anymore. Which is rather out of character for my family, but perhaps your world is similar?"
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Wanda shakes her head.
"I'm afraid I don't know enough, though I have worked alongside Thor, the god of thunder in Norse myths. I imagine that would contradict Zeus' existence, but that's not my realm of expertise."
If Thor were still here, perhaps he could hold a more meaningful conversation with Zagreus about it.
"I'm just a mortal, like most everyone else is."
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When it came to gods, logic and continuity wasn't really that important.
"And you're a powerful witch. I'd say that makes you more than just a mortal, mate."
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His statement makes her pause.
"I promise you that I am just mortal." Mate. How casual. "The only way my parents were special was because I loved them, not because they were the keepers of any realm."
It is a bit of a sore subject for Wanda, who wants to cling to her humanity as much as possible.
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(Zagreus may be, as gods go, unusually friendly and empathetic. But he is still a god, who has spent his life among other gods. There are many ways in which he does not yet understand the experience and perspectives of mortals - and how his own unconscious biases might manifest.)
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to suggest...you're not any lessor for being mortal. You said you were just a mortal, and I thought...maybe that was something that was worrying you. But that was inconsiderate of me to assume, wasn't it?"
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And yet that doesn't sound quite as appeasing as she hopes.
Wanda sighs, waving a hand about herself.
"...I guess you're not entirely wrong. I'm different because of these powers I have back in my world. It's not always been a good thing in my life." Thus, the sore spot. "Is this the first time you've been around so many mortals?"
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And not just seeing it for himself; living among mortals. Having a host family, people who welcomed him into their home. It was a way of life entirely different from anything Zagreus had ever known.
He pauses, then, looking at her. "Your powers...I have heard that mortals can be wary of witches. Is that...something you've had to deal with?"
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As Zagreus speaks, Wanda looks about and finds herself a stone-sculpted bench to sit on (has it always been there—or did she fracture it into the non-reality of the Horizon?), listening.
"It seems that Abraxas offers a new experience for everyone, even if you and I have very different lives and backgrounds." That does say a lot about the kind of place they have been stuck in. And though he has asked her a question, Wanda remains firmly quiet about it, until the silence becomes almost unbearable, when she does actually speak. "I haven't been a witch for very long. It's not common, where I'm from, so my powers were considered... something else. Something a little more human than supernatural."
She smiles softly.
"I didn't need to be called a 'witch' to be considered dangerous, though. The modern world I'm from didn't know how to control me, so they feared me. I have lived many years on the run, even though all I wanted was to live a normal life."
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'Normal', as it turns out, is relative.
"Witches aren't common where I'm from either," he says. He doesn't sit with her - his dislike of sitting is far too strong - but he does stand with her, while Cerberus provides a solid presence at his back. "But they have Lady Hecate to guide them. Did you...have anyone to help guide you? People who didn't fear your abilities?"
He suspects that perhaps she didn't, if her powers were so rare as to be mistaken for something else. Or at least, she didn't have as many people to help her as she needed.
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Most literature demanded that kind of thing, even if Wanda isn't all too sure that Hecate herself had any dominion over things here.
There is another shake of her head, and Wanda shrugs, sitting back a touch, letting her feet rise a little over the ground—legs stretched out.
"I have learned most everything by myself. I do communicate with one of the gods here, so I use that as a basis, in a way."
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Where would he be, if he hadn't had Achilles? Or Nyx, or even Skelly? Even when he was fighting his way through the Underworld...he still had the boons of the Olympians to aid him. He'd never really had to face his trials alone.
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"I know this might not mean much to someone like you who isn't mortal, but I am thirty-four years old. I can handle myself." This much she says with an air of amusement. "The past is the past. I'm the master of my strengths and weaknesses now."
And, at least now, she isn't entirely alone.
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"Is thirty-four very old, for a mortal?" he says. Clearly the number is meant to say something about her maturity. But he's lacking the proper frame of reference to properly understand it, beyond the fact that she seems to be using it as a statement of her experience.
"And of course, you're very capable - I certainly don't want to suggest otherwise. But I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't had my mentors to guide me...well, I'd still be failing to escape the Underworld. Probably wouldn't ever have found my mother. That you have been able to master your strengths and weaknesses, all on your own...it's impressive."
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Wanda shrugs.
She is clearly cutting some corners in explaining how she's gotten here at all, but she doesn't need to regale every person she meets here with the turn of events that led her down a very dark path. So, Wanda focuses instead on something else.
"You had to look for your mother?"
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"I did," he says, reaching up to give Cerberus a reassuring scratch. "She left after I was born. When I learned she existed...I had to go looking for her."
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Wanda is going to assume that Zagreus found her ultimately, from what his words imply.
"Was she happy to see you?"
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But he pauses a moment. He knows what she's probably thinking. It's the same thing that most people end up thinking, when they learned that his mother was missing most his life.
"She thought I'd died, you see. When I was born," he explains. "Or...I did die. But she didn't know that Nyx managed to bring me back."
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"I see."
She figures this much makes sense, and Wanda can understand the pain a mother would feel should she think she lost her children, especially after birthing them.
"Sorry if these questions are very personal. I had children of my own, and they were really special, too so — I think I understand what your mother must have felt when she thought she lost you."
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