abraxaslogs | • CLOSED •

Entry tags:

• CLOSED •

Who: wanda & peter maximoff
When: shortly after his arrival
Where: by the lakes
What: we'll find out
Warnings: TBA

( the decorations for the summer equinox celebrations that have swept through this part of the commune linger after most of the 'grander' parts of it have taken place. what remains by the treehouse and the lakes are the scattering of ornaments left behind on trees and stones; a few locals have even stopped by to offer more sincere condolences for the loss they have all suffered with nero's death.

wanda very strongly feels like she should head back to the settlement to offer candles and flowers as thanks to the locals for their attendance in the remembrance ritual that took place the night prior.

but, right now? the morning air is cold, the lake is calm, and the sun barely peeks through the canopy of the trees. where wanda stands, warm cup in hand, it's the kind of quiet morning that helps her think, recover, and figure out where she stands, metaphorically. except—it's not entirely quiet, is it? she catches onto a buzzing-like sound that feels oddly familiar. no, not buzzing; it's like a ringing, like a swift pulse on a taut guitar string, barely perceptible.

she turns around quickly, catching only slightly disturbed plants behind her. someone had just been there.

her heart rate picks up, and she calls out, )

Who's there?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ the first thing he noticed from the pamphlet was her name. wanda. not uncommon, but it's no surprise that he thinks of his sister back home. he doesn't see them too much these days, now that he's been living at the school and going on missions, but every other weekend when he can carve out a bit of time, he runs back home to see them. it's strange — it felt like it took forever for them to reach their teens, when he was still at home and babysitting them while their mother left for work. but now that he's watched them grow older, taller, he doesn't remember where all that time went.

it's a little like that, he thinks, as he watches this wanda standing at the lake with a mug in her hands. she doesn't look anything like his sister, but there's something... familiar, in a way. something that pulls at him that he can't put his finger on. he'd meant to quietly step away, not actually trying to intrude on her space, but she turns around too quickly for him to make a clean exit.

he appears next to her before she finishes calling out, a soft breeze ruffling her clothes heralding his arrival. peter has both hands up, palms open as if in an attempt to placate, one lowering as he waves the remaining one briefly. ]

Just me, hi. Part of the new group of kids that came outta the well. [ he sticks his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth lightly on his feet. ] I was just, uh, going on a morning run, but don't let me stop what you're doing. [ he pauses, frowning a little. ] Well, I guess I just did, huh?

Edited 2024-06-13 07:46 (UTC)

( the only reason wanda doesn't throw a hex burst in the face of what was the mockery of her brother, through agatha, is because the events of westview are set a few years in the past for her, and she's gained some amount of wisdom and patience since. even so, it surprises her how quickly and seamlessly he manages to stand beside her (how many times would pietro startle her when he gained his speed?), and the grip on her cup tightens.

nothing about him feels right, even as an individual that just exists by his own merit.

wanda's expression says as much, as she pales and her features seem to tense when her eyes rest on him. this guy speaks so nonchalantly to her, so casually, and tries to make no statement about knowing or not knowing her. was agatha summoned, and did wanda somehow miss that? it would be her luck.

all this time the stranger has been talking but his voice has been nothing but muffled noise in her ears. )

Who ( she repeats, teeth gritted; peter could very well tell that there is something akin to fear, maybe anger, in the way she enunciates each syllable, ) are you?

( then, whispered, as if this would trigger something, )

Agatha?

Edited 2024-06-13 13:57 (UTC)

[ it wouldn't be the first time he's been thrown or gotten a blast to his face — jean tossing him aside while in super speed isn't something he can forget anytime soon. instinct makes him want to leave immediately, but he remains where he is, watching the way her expression changes and wondering if she'd maybe seen him before. that can't be right, if she's asking who he is.

but why does she look like she's ready to tear him apart? ]

Peter. [ he shrugs, glancing around as if whoever she mentioned will suddenly appear. ] Who's Agatha?

( could she dare think this isn't some type of trap implemented by agatha to try and get back at her? wanda is so certain of it, but it confuses her—how this peter genuinely doesn't seem to know who agatha is.

she encounters no legitimate deception in his words, in his thoughts.

it makes her heart plummet with uncertainty, that anger revolting entirely into anxieties that are getting pulled out of her. it was just yesterday when she was saying goodbye to nero, remembering pietro in the moment, and then for this to happen.

wanda doesn't really say much of anything else, though her expression speaks of an inner conflict peter is not privy to. one of her hands is raised, towards his head, swirls of scarlet pooling between her fingers and palms, all a millisecond away from blasting him away— )

[ he doesn't need to have seen her magic before to know that he needs to move once she starts raising her hand, tendrils of red gathering between her fingers. he heeds instinct this time, but instead of moving back and away, he's propelled forward into her instead, his arms coming around to pull her close to him in an attempt to mitigate impact.

it's too late to change trajectory once his speed reverts to normal. he manages to twist his body just before they both end up in the lake, finding his footing quickly to avoid submerging her entirely. he honestly isn't sure if this just made everything worse, but he braces himself for whatever she decides to send his way. ]

( between the surge of her magic to the cold splash of water, wanda's thoughts and intentions are broken right away. it's perhaps the mild shock from how fast he moves, and how the way he holds her is unfamiliar and yet — not.

her focus destroyed, her magic dissolved, despite peter's best efforts, wanda still ends up submerging under the cold lake water once, pulling out onto the surface with a huff and swatting water his way, pulling away in a fit.

wanda's turquoise tea cup floats about near them, full of lake water, having lost its tea contents. )

What are you doing? The water's — cold!

( yeah, he seems to have broken whatever moment of uncertain reaction she was under. )

[ peter coughs up a mouthful of the lake water before he gets another mouthful of it when she swats at him. gross. he releases her once it's clear she's not about to drown him, squinting through his wet bangs as he attempts to get his bearings. at the very least, the lake isn't deep even if it's awfully cold, and he wipes at his eyes and face before rescuing that tea cup. ]

Look, I wasn't actually trying to get us in the water. [ just going to. shake his head quickly much like a dog would. it likely ends up getting more water on her. oops. ] My mutation's been weird ever since they dragged me from the well.

[ he's not sure if it's the summoning magic or what, but it's annoying. ]

If you're done trying to kill me, are you okay?

I wasn't trying to kill you—

( that's the only thing she wishes to immediately refute, frowning, only to find that the crease in her brow softens when she sees that he's rescued her tea cup from sinking should it fill up further with water. but then, his question does sink in, and she bites at the inside of her cheeks.

a hand reaches forward, but this time with no magic. she's just looking to get her cup back, fingers reaching towards it.

mutation, that's... )

Your speed. My brother had that, he — was always moving around in a blur. ( quieter still, she adds, ) It surprised me.

( not to mention that she's seen his face before, in an impostor's. )

[ there's a look on his face (flat expression, one brow slightly arched) that may suggest otherwise as he returns her tea cup; a light tease more than anything else, as there's no hesitation or fear from him. at least, not anymore. just curiosity and the ever-present thread of confusion right beneath that — at her, at their circumstances, at the fluctuation of his abilities. but he assumes that's to be expected when he finds himself in another world entirely different from what he knows. ]

That right? [ it's not uncommon for two people to share the same mutation. he's known multiple telepaths by now, but he'd yet to meet anyone else who also had his speed. ] Probably got on your nerves too, I bet.

[ that's the general consensus, isn't it? can't have super speed without being a pain in the ass. ]

To be fair, I kinda did sneak up on you. Sort of. Why don't we start again? [ he clears his throat briefly before holding out his hand. ] Hi, Wanda. I'm Peter.

( when she gets her cup back, wanda holds onto it and presses it to herself, as if she had just recovered a very precious thing. her expression steels itself, and it's uncanny how a lot of him feels—again—familiar, but not in the way that agatha had tried to trick her.

if she looks very carefully, peter here holds some proper differences, like his hair. there's also less arrogant and less mean in how he talks to her. )

—a little.

( wanda admits, quietly, at the mention of her brother getting on her nerves. only then does she seem to let go of a breath, finally, and pushes herself up to stand, immediately feeling a bit colder than when she was in the water. she stares at his hand, pausing for way too long debating whether to take it or not; her fingers tight against the porcelain, until she swallows and nods. )

Hey.

( blinking several times over, she does reach for his hand, and does try her best to tug him out of the water. )

Let's get out of the water before you ( YOU ) catch a cold.

[ belatedly, he realizes she referred to her brother in past tense, a moment of understanding coalescing in his chest before it sinks into his stomach. he doesn't ask, nor does he think to bring it up, but it makes a little more sense now why she reacted the way she did.

maybe it's his training with the x-men, or maybe it's all the time he'd spent helping whatever poor soul charles found with cerebro — kids with haunted looks in their eyes, hunched shoulders, clinging to whatever little they had left in a society that would sooner remove them entirely than offer them another chance. but he keeps his hand out as she stares at it, unmoving and patient as he waits for her, completely at odds to how he was just a few minutes ago. ]

Me? [ his affronted tone is exaggerated, softened by her taking his hand as they begin the arduous process of wading back to shore. ] You've been in there just as long as I have, you know.

[ downplaying everything as a means to cope, the maximoff way. ]

( downplaying everything is right, as wanda tries to keep steady the anxiety in her regarding who all this guy is. she has an inkling that makes her want to throw up, but she steels herself as they step onto the shore and drip water onto dry earth.

this won't do.

she prods at his arm with a finger, and immediately he will find that he is dried—like he had never been in the water at all. should peter turn to face her, she's dry, too, looking down with a bit of a sad expression at her loss of tea. wanda seems lost enough in her thoughts that she doesn't rise up to his attempt for conversation.

instead, she leads the way towards the treehouse, out towards the back, where her garden is. it'll take them a few minutes to get to the door proper. )

You already knew my name before coming here. Were you looking for me?

[ he looks down at her finger when she pokes him, and the sensation of him suddenly becoming dry is as strange as it is novel. pretty cool. he doesn't question it as he simply goes to follow her to wherever she's taking them.

he makes a face at her question, something almost like a grimace before his mouth thins out in a thoughtful line. ]

Okay, hear me out, I know this is gonna sound weird. [ his sigh comes out in a rush, cheeks puffing briefly as he turns his attention to the path in front of them. ] One of my sisters, her name's also Wanda. She's younger than me, but I haven't seen her in a while, and... well, everyone kept saying your name here so I thought maybe I'd, you know, see for myself who they're talking about.

[ and now he's confirmed that she's completely different, from her hair color down to her accent. he doesn't know how to feel about it, whether or not he should be relieved that they aren't the same person. ]

( wanda glances at him, then turns her attention back immediately towards the path. flowers that have bloomed after the storm line their way, but it's clear that wanda's tried to mend the destructive path of the storms by re-tilling the soil or using rope to keep certain taller trees and bushes straight. )

I suppose Wanda is a pretty common name in America.

( because peter sounds american, and he feels so egregiously not sokovian, despite the conclusions she's trying not to jump to.

they reach the door, and she pulls it open, stepping inside and not waiting to see if he'll follow or not. she will lead the way into the kitchen to make herself some more tea. )

Sorry to disappoint.

Eh, probably.

[ peter doesn't know a thing about naming conventions, nor does he know about gardening, but he notes the flowers, the work that's been done to keep the trees and bushes secure. he wonders if she'd done all that by hand or with her magic; maybe a bit of both.

he steps inside after her, following her into the kitchen and taking one of the chairs, almost leaning back far enough to prop his feet onto the table. he gets the feeling she'd be mad at him if he does. ]

You didn't disappoint me. [ it comes easily; despite the uncertainty, he wasn't expecting anything when he'd found her at the lake. her drawing on the pamphlet was enough of an indicator anyway. he lets his eyes wander around the kitchen, taking in the details before letting his attention settle back onto her. ] Nothing you need to be sorry for. Just think of it as me being nosy.

( she does consider him to be nosy, so he needs not worry about that. she lets him settle and find his groove within the kitchen-space of the treehouse; wanda more than knows that a lot of people have come and gone, making this space their own. with water in the kettle, she sets it over the fire in the hearth and waits for it to heat up.

it is only then that wanda comes to join him at the table, sitting across from him.

she is studying him carefully, still not fully convinced of what he isn't. )

You mentioned something about your mutation.

[ he's used to being studied and scrutinized, so he simply stares right back at her as they sit across from each other at the table. it helps that she's the most interesting thing in the kitchen at this moment, given what's already happened, or whatever else that seems to be lingering beneath the surface. ]

You ever heard of the X-Men?

[ easiest to start there first. he's not entirely sure if she's from New York, or even from his world. ]

Yes.

( which—perhaps—is not the answer he was quite expecting. she thinks of erik, who had been here until a few months ago, and how proud he was of being a mutant; of how much it meant to him, charles' school, having a place he felt at ease in. )

Not too long ago, someone called Erik was here. Talked a lot about mutants and some school.

( wanda doesn't know how much erik means to peter. )

He said he thought I was a mutant. That my powers reminded him of those mutations.

[ no, she doesn't. how could she? but it's funny, isn't it, how she's met both of them now. what are the chances of her running into them both in this place where they seemingly pull individuals in at random? there could be countless other eriks in the world, yet there's only one erik who is a mutant, who knows about them and about the school.

the initial surprise on peter's face shifts, and then crumbles as he looks away and down to the table between them. he swallows past the lump in his throat, past the disappointment and the age old ache that he's long since learned to live with. of course he'd miss him here, too. it's almost as if he's cursed to always be one step behind him.

eventually, he nods, his expression smoothing itself back out again. ]

... I'm a mutant like him, but speed is my mutation. The school he talked about was founded by Charles Xavier. He gave me a place to stay there, and me and a few others became part of the X-Men.

( wanda studies him for a moment, the way he reacts before he puts himself back together in an attempt to center his words and his thoughts. he really is a mess, letting his thoughts and emotions spill all over like this.

perhaps wanda will tell him one day. )

You are disappointed.

( she says quietly, not really needing him to expand on charles xavier or his school; erik told her all about it before.

so, she offers a little something for him to hang on to, as he gathers himself. )

...you have the same face as someone that was used to trick me, making me think he was my brother. You're the same, but also so — different. Agatha is the name of the witch who did that. My brother was just like you with his speed. He could never stop thinking or feeling one way. Her fake version of my brother wasn't like that, now that I think back on it, but you are all over the place. ( she stands, leaving him with those words, and uses her magic to quickly create two perfect cups of tea with the items she has in the kitchen; one is sweeter than the other, because she has a feeling— and she brings them back to the table, giving him his own carmine-colored cup. ) And I have a dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach about who you are.

Edited 2024-06-14 03:06 (UTC)

[ he makes another face, one where it looks like he's ready to protest (of course he's disappointed; he'd spent the better part of a decade trying to find erik, only to come close to being killed by him later on) but what she says next makes him pause, brows drawing together. ]

Why'd she use my face when she could've just used your brother's? [ unless agatha didn't know what wanda's brother looked like. but peter doesn't think that's the case. ] So that's why you looked like you were ready to kick my ass. [ he shrugs. ] That's fair.

[ he accepts the tea with a mumbled thanks, taking a sip and nearly burning his tongue in the process. it's good, though, and he goes for another before setting the cup down. ]

... What do you mean?

—because Pietro had been dead for seven years and his body was buried in Europe, not New Jersey.

( this she says matter-of-factly, even if her expression hardens a touch. there is a point, too, to her finally, actually, using her twin's name. peter is just the anglicized version of pietro, after all.

she sits, takes a sip of her tea, and keeps her eyes on him.

of course he would drink the tea too quickly, scalding his tongue. maybe wanda's lost her touch, forgetting what it's like to have an impatient speedster in her midst. )

Your last name is Maximoff, isn't it? I bet you were born January 3rd.

( though that much might be a stretch. )

Edited 2024-06-14 03:35 (UTC)

[ there it is. pietro. even their names are a little similar. the fact that he was buried in europe at least gives a clue as to where she's from; an earth similar to his own with the same landmarks. that makes things a little easier. ]

So the fake-me's from New Jersey? I'm from New York.

[ it's weird to think about, but before he can go down that rabbit hole, she calls him out, stunned briefly into silence. ]

Yes... [ he drags it out, blinking a few times. he doesn't even bother asking how she knows, barreling onwards. ] Was that your brother's birthday?

( ralph bohner and agatha don't really matter in this equation much at all, anymore. wanda thinks this is all a cruel coincidence, and that if peter here knows erik, it is a certainty that their earths are very similar but not the same; one a shadow of the other in way.

this she holds as a conspicuous reality given that peter proves her right twice now.

her hands are trembling, so she leaves the cup on the table, bringing her hands down onto her lap to hold tightly onto them, stop the tremors. )

It is my birthday, too. He was my twin brother.

( —and the cruel dice roll of the multiverse has given her an approximation of her brother, but not her brother— )

My full name is Wanda Maximoff.

[ there's a lot to unpack from that: their same birthdates, same last names; the fact that wanda didn't just lose a brother, but a twin. but worse than that, the fact that she's had to endure it twice now — the fake version of him (and her brother) in new jersey, and now a second time here, with neither of them being the right one. as if it wasn't bad enough, wasn't devastating enough to lose him the first time; now, she has to witness it all over again.

he's quiet for a moment, his own hands clasped around his mug. for once, there's no stream of thoughts in his head, just a sort of sinking feeling. the notion that his presence here may be making things worse. he almost apologizes after that moment stretches into two and then three, but thinks better on it. ]

What can I do for you, right now? [ is what he settles on eventually. ] If you want me to leave, I can do that.

[ maybe she needs space to process it on her own. he wouldn't hold it against her, not when he's still sorting everything out himself. ]

Edited (gomen for the twenty edits aklsjdf) 2024-06-14 05:51 (UTC)

( it's difficult, to be given the option of choosing for something she doesn't want to be responsible of making a decision for. peter is not pietro, could never be pietro, and yet there is an unspoken something that tethers them together. nothing is impossible in the vastness of the multiverse, but she loathes how many variables and discrepancies there are for her life.

because as much as wanda wants to be angry at peter and be angry at all of this for happening, the softness by which he pulls himself out of the equation and wants to allow her to do what she thinks is best is one of those small, wonderful traits that her brother had.

even in all his arrogance and vanity, pietro was unfathomably kind. )

I need time.

( not just to process this situation, but to come to terms with it all. to make sure her feelings aren't so hurt that she will inevitably cause him to hurt for something that isn't his fault. )

...but I don't want you to feel as if you're not welcome here. ( she's learned her lesson from billy, when he was here before; perhaps she should also take a page out of percy's book, in how the young man deals with such ease having a multiversal cousin around. she should be lucky, to have found some family here, when a lot of other summoned get to be alone.

wanda inhales a deep breath, bites her bottom lip inward, and softens up significantly. ) You're probably really hungry, aren't you?

[ there's a flicker-flash of uncertainty, there and gone again. he doesn't want her to force herself to interact with him just to make him feel welcome. he'd never felt welcome anywhere for a long time before charles — he's gotten used to the feeling.

but it's her decision and what she feels is best for her; he should respect that. so he lets that tension go and takes another bigger sip of his tea, now that it's cooler. ]

I'm always hungry.

I know.

( because pietro always was hungry, too. that much she's never forgotten, but she can't just dump all this pain she feels about a brother she misses dearly onto the lap of a stranger who turns out might not quite be a stranger? she needs the time to parse this out.

to parse herself out.

but, in the meantime, she can also take the mature route and fight every urge of flight or fight, and maybe try to honor that she still holds for her brother this way. )

Do you have any favorite foods?

[ twinkies. ]

... Pizza.

( he just totally thought of twinkies. what the hell are twinkies? the furrowing of her brow is more towards not knowing what that is than what she actually voices out, with arms crossed as she leans back on her chair. )

It's too early for pizza. I will make you something else.

( and that's an invitation for peter to stay. )

Allergic to anything?

[ it's honestly better she doesn't know. ]

No.

[ at least, he doesn't think so. ]

Can I help? Unless you're gonna do the... you know.

[ he wiggles his fingers in the air. magic. he means magic. ]

( wanda realizes that despite both their best efforts to try and be cool about the situation, it is inherently awkward. maybe because of the sudden but certain reveal about what they are to each other, like they're supposed to know each other better than what they do, currently?

she sighs, shrugging. )

I really don't know anything about you, you know. Are you any good in the kitchen?

( if he's offering... but, she has a feeling. )

I mostly meant doing the prep work and cleaning up, but I make pretty good pancakes.

[ a brief snippet of a memory — his sisters when they were still little, sitting on the kitchen counter laughing while watching him flip pancakes with his speed; a gap-toothed grin from one of them holding a stack already. he blinks and it's gone, glancing at the stove. ]

Everything else? [ he makes a little grimace. ] Mm.

( the memory she gets, that very brief snipped, is surprisingly warm and full of levity. there's a weight to it, of responsibility that corresponds to an older brother, but wanda also perceives that there's a sadness to it.

she scrunches up her nose.

an older brother, huh. so... )

Let's have at the pancakes. I'll get you the ingredients. ( she starts at it, looking about the cupboards for flour and eggs— ) It might help you focus your speed properly, seeing how you came out of the well recently. You just got to practice at it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

• CLOSED •

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject