( the house that wanda calls a home in the tertiary settlement was, a few months back, an abandoned mess, with leaks on the roof and one too many broken tiles. it's a cramped space, made even more busy by wanda's idea of decoration: hanging herbs from the rafters of the low ceiling, curtains and carpets draped over doorways and floors and most other surface, while pots, candles, trinkets and ingredient-filled jars adorn tables and shelves. upstairs, where the criss-cross of the triangular-shaped ceiling meets, is a quiet space where she can rest.
it's all, seemingly, a mess, but wanda understands herself within the chaos.
now and then, neighbors in the tertiary settlement will drop in with a few items to trade. currently, she is favoring a particular species of mushrooms and the abandoned pupa of dragonflies that still cling to leaves. it makes for an excuse to have the rowdy children head out into an expedition by the cliffside, away from the beach, from the leviathans that either come too close to or wash up on the shore.
tinctures, tisanes, treatments, tonics—fishermen have lesions to care for, butchers need their energy replenished quicker than a night's sleep can offer, the elderly plead for calm after everything that has come to pass. additionally, wanda gets a few young couples and love-entrenched individuals, looking for good-luck charms, love philtres, aphrodisiacs, cosmetics. she passes no judgement as she hands over the vases and vials. children come wanting to exchange their findings—generally the wrong kind of insect and an odd flower bud—for fruit preserves, for square-shaped dainties covered in sugar and honey. )
Just a moment.
( she intones, loud enough to be heard as the door opens with an echoing creak, over the rustle of the leaves of the many trees outside. she is currently at her table, grinding up seeds with a mortar and pestle, a concoction of unknown origin bubbling away in a pot over a fire. a wide-eyed, hair-tousled, young man sits on a chair by the table, jogging his leg, glancing from the door then back to wanda as she drops a sprinkling of the ground seeds onto the pot.
a puff of yellow makes for a dramatic result, the liquid turning a pale lavender as it seems to cool, despite the fire, the bubbling slowing down.
wanda pushes her hand out as she turns to the young man. )
I'll have the stone now.
( B ) GAINING FAVORS
( the warmth of summer in solvunn is not enough to keep wanda indoors. the tertiary settlement has the benefit of the ocean breeze, cooling everything, especially with the storm wall up north that blows colder air towards them. that, together with the sun's rays, makes for the perfect weather to take a stroll.
sometimes, these strolls are purposeful and lead wanda, in fact, towards an 'ailing' home—where new cracks on the wall calls forth the worst superstitions from the locals, or where blood in the milk of their goat in the morning seems to spell the forthcoming death of a loved one.
armed with a basketful of flowers and acorns for this venture, wanda sets off on the path towards the tertiary settlement, stopping here and there to collect a particular rock on the side of the road or a strangely shaped leaf.
wanda will be found sitting on her haunches, on the side of the path, just before entering the tertiary settlement proper, basket on the ground, and letting a worm wiggle across her fingers. several of the critters seem to be in a procession from one side of the path to the other.
to the approaching summoned, she warns, tilting her head sideways, )
[Wanda's sense of decor is noisier than his own, yet still quieter and less chaotic than Gabriel's had been. He wouldn't choose it for his own space but Michael finds her home a pleasant enough place to visit. There's always some detail to focus on and occupy the eye. Besides, as with any other place, it's the company that counts the most.
Michael takes a step inside and then stands and waits there in front of the door as she calls for patience.]
If you're in the middle of business hours, I can come back another time.
[It's only a little surprising to him to find her in the middle of a deal, and he observes the rest of the exchange in silence. Wanda likes her solitude but that seems to apply mostly to crowds. She's still social and as community-minded as any of the Solvunn locals.]
( her gaze cuts over towards michael, undeterred from her exchange with the local as the young man seems to get the hint that he might as well hand over the stone requested. no point in acting contrarian in front of two summoned.
the stone is smooth, holding a bit of an ovalesque shape, but not perfect in its symmetry. it feels rough in wanda's hand, still, and her eyes peer down at it in thought.
casually, she tosses it into the pot of the pale lavender liquid. almost immediately, the stone soaks it up, leaving the cauldron dry and empty, with the stone at the bottom. her back turned to it, she grabs for a small vial, a casual lilt of her fingers bringing the stone out and inside its new glass prison. a cork closes the top, and—just like that—she's handed it back over to the local. )
Tonight, when the sky is clear, place the stone under the tree. Never touch it, and bring back the vial tomorrow.
( the instructions are clear and the local still seems nervous despite the reassured look on his face. as he steps out, wanda shrugs out a kink in her shoulder, starting to clean up. )
[ This is technically Tifa's second time coming out to the Tertiary Settlement. The first had been when they were all called forth to witness Winifred's sacrifice. Even now, thinking back on it sends a chill up her spine. They all just stood there, watching, as it happened. And even though everyone seems to agree that Winifred knew what she was doing and was willing to pay that price, Tifa can't help but feel unsettled by it.
She's already helped with some of the funeral arrangements back at the Primary Settlement, so her second trip out here was to help with the leviathans. Some of them are being cooked up even now, though she decided she needed a break from the strong smells of the sea and decided to take a walk around this settlement that's still rather new to her.
While she mainly sticks to the settlement proper, she isn't afraid to wander near the outskirts either, which is how she comes across Wanda — with a basket full of random items, helping some caterpillars to cross the road. ]
Oh!
[ She stops short, remembering how Aerith would always call out when the party might be in danger of trampling over flowers or little critters or both. The memory causes a pang of homesickness to hit her, but she shakes it off. ]
( though wanda had tilted her head and felt a familiar presence draw near, it isn't until tifa speaks that wanda realizes who it is. perhaps for another summoned she would be a little stuffier about the situation, but wanda is drawn to the unbidden gentleness in the younger woman, as it pushes outward wanda's more softer side.
she sets the caterpillar down from her fingers, a little closer to the edge where the grass resumes, then turns her head over her shoulder. wanda doesn't move from where she is, but motions at tifa with a light wave of her hand, join me, as there is a space beside wanda devoid of caterpillars tempting fate.
it's not really a situation that necessitates 'help', but the offer is a kind one nonetheless. )
If you aren't in a hurry, ( she starts, ) we could watch them for a while.
( it has become one of wanda's favorite things to do within the horizon, to make a dream of a future reality come true, and to play around with it as if it were reality. a certain conversation a few weeks past has given her reason to conclude that closing in her roof garden to shield the flowers and plants from the elements is needed.
she could get it done with the blink of her eyes, sure, but it feels a little more earned to do it manually—even if she is cheating on the materials needed and taking shortcuts on the more complicated carpentry and architectural elements. planks and boards, paint brushes and cans, and an assortment of tools sit on the side.
wanda carries a potted plant in one arm, against her hip, as she offers some directions. )
I was thinking about a second floor—put some nettings on the side, ( she moves her free hand about, as if trying to represent the length of it, of what's on her mind, ) let the vines hang there, and one of those naked roofs coming out this way—?
( she stops, forefinger to her bottom lip, as she turns and looks about, envisioning what she is imagining and giving it some proper thought. or, rather, she is a little stuck on a word— )
What is that name, for a frame for plants to climb?
[ Percy is following along as best he can, fully prepared to dive into whatever task she's got for him. He's willing to do just about anything she asks of him, just as long as he gets to hang around here for a bit longer.
Is he being a little bit clingy? Okay, maybe. But can you blame him? He hasn't seen his own mom in ages, and Wanda was his mom for eight hundred years, never mind that they were fake. It's hard to shake that kind of connection, no matter how many weeks have passed. ]
Uh. I dunno, architecture stuff was always more Annabeth's thing. But I think I know what you mean. Demeter's cabin had a bunch of those 'naked roofs' for growing stuff on.
( don't echo the words she's trying to use to describe what she means—the correct vocabulary is lost on her, and it sounds dumb when it's spoken right back at her.
wanda turns to percy, almost matching the clueless expression on his face. )
Maybe I should have invited Annabeth over, too.
( not that the boy's presence alone wasn't enough. wanda is more than thrilled to get to spend time with him, outside of the familial connection they bore for quite a long age within the illusion.
he seems to get the gist of it, either way. wanda adjusts the potted plant on her hip. )
[ If it involves plants, there's always a good chance Claire has found a way to be involved. She's serious about it too, taking all of Wanda's directions and only offering her own suggestions when asked. It's a wonderful space, and she pauses to imagine what Wanda is suggesting. ]
You're onto something, I think. [ When Wanda pauses, Claire fills in, slipping small pruning sheers into one of the pockets of her apron. ] Trellises? I think you could even design them any way you like, make them decorative if you wanted, as long as it's sturdy and supportive. The nice thing is, you can experiment a bit.
[ What comes to mind automatically for her is the common white criss-cross pattern, but she assumes there have to be more options, especially when they aren't restricted in the Horizon. Anything could be a trellis if they try. ]
( now that wanda has a name for the thing that she's been thinking of, wanda very much wishes she had the internet at the tip of her fingers to look at examples of what all they would look at.
she nods in claire's direction, though, taking a few steps closer to the other woman, presenting the potted plant like perhaps she would have a better idea of where it could go and how best to 'transplant' it, if necessary. it's funny, because wanda considers cooking in the horizon an unnecessary waste of time and effort, and yet she indulges in the active handiwork that comes with setting up a garden proper. )
Do you think you could put up an example of one? Or — perhaps a sketch? The idea is a little vague for me even now.
[ vash has two potted plants in both of his; in the horizon he wears the arm brad made him, the sunlight bouncing off and through the gem-like faceting. it casts glints of bright teal on him and his surroundings like a kaleidoscope.
he tilts his head towards her, as if getting a better look at her face will help him divine the word stuck on the tip of her tongue. he tries a few. ]
( —she isn't particularly sure. they are something in her mind, but it eludes her as well even in her sokovian, for she never grew up learning the words for those kinds of things; hardly any time for upscale gardening when at war. )
Pergola feels right.
( she sets the pot that she is carrying down on a nearby bench. )
( there is something about the mood in nocwich that solvunn cannot quite replicate. this eternal night shifts everything into being more taciturn, cooler, and, to the greatest extent of its definition, romantic. it gives wanda peace, to be able to walk the cobbled streets of the place and find new places to be. perhaps, in some ways, nocwich reminds her the most of the modern sense of europe that she had to vacate, even if it lacks the technology that she is most familiar with.
she can be found in a quiet corner outside, having some tea and sweet appetizers to calm her hunger, with a pot of hot water ready to be served for any of the friends and acquaintances that have asked her to meet.
should it rain, she'll be inside, carving a space for herself in the end of the couch, amidst the cushions, leaning back and with her feet up on the couch (her boots solemnly placed under the coffee table), a book in her hands as she keeps it perched on her legs. the pitter-patter of the rainfall may or may not lull her to sleep, but wanda will try her very best to finish this one page, fingers idly rub at the corner of it, as she seems to linger on the last few words several times over. )
[ Sitting and relaxing, when combined, are two things that Cassian is very poor at. So rarely has he had the luxury of doing so. Even when he had been on Aldhani, there had been purpose to the waiting. There had been drills and memorization and practice that were necessary in order of them to get out of there with the payload and as little causalities as possible.
Here, there was little for him to do except fall back into the routine that he's told himself has to be comfortable because it's the only foreseeable one for the next little while.
Thankfully going to Nocwich serves a purpose, namely procuring supplies that would be otherwise unavailable to those in Nocwich. He's just about to make his way back to the portals when the downpour comes swift and unexpectedly, leaving him no choice but to duck into the nearest tea shop. He looks every bit a wet dog as he rushes inside, sending the little bell clattering above the door and disturbing the peaceful oasis inside.
The disturbance draws several looks and he offers nothing more than an apologetic nod as he makes his way towards the counter to order his drink. It seems that he and Wanda both have similar ideas in picking quiet corners. But his is out of instinct: he wants somewhere his back can face a wall and his eyes set on the door in front of him. Before he makes it to his chosen spot however, he spots Wanda. Water drips unceremoniously on the floor as he steps up beside her. ]
Is this spot taken?
[ ...No he doesn't plan on sitting. He knows his sopping wet and was raised with more manners than that. If anything, he's asking if he can stand where he is. ]
( there is a question worth asking here, about a man who seems to find himself—always—in a situation where he arrives to places wet as a dog, dripping water despite his better efforts. there already is the lunean owner of the place behind the counter at the front, scrambling and telling one of their employees to find a towel or two, lest their carefully-woven rugs and velveteen-cushioned seats suffer for their idleness.
his presence is enough to pull wanda from whatever nap she was dozing off into, setting the book down on the side as she stares at him for a moment, almost in disbelief at the fact that they should meet again and that he is wet, again. )
I think you can tell it isn't.
( taken, that is, though she isn't too aware why he might be wanting to hang around. not that she minds his presence.
before wanda can offer to dry him, just like last time, a werewolf shows up at his side with a number of towels. )
Please, if you would.
( closer to the front, there already is someone mopping at the drops from the dark and polished wood planks. wouldn't want there to be a dry stain left. wanda keeps herself from laughing. )
( he's drawn to her like a magnet, unable to stay away from her too long if they're in the same vicinity. and now, as he hears the familiar pattern of her breathing growing heavier, he knows that she's trying (and failing) not to fall asleep.
he steps over to her quietly, no sound at all from crossing the room and then he settles on the couch by her feet. he wonders if she'll feel that. he waits, listening to he continue to breathe, before he puts a hand on her knee and starts rubbing gently, wondering if that'll wake her up or lull her into a deeper sleep.
( it doesn't exactly startle her awake, but his touch doesn't exactly stave off the weariness that pulls her towards a warm and comfortable notion of a nap. his touch, to her, is a balm over all the other noise she hears around her, of anything that afflicts her minds and erodes at her emotions.
it makes her feel balanced, and for a few seconds, she remains the same as she tries to press on with her reading.
that is, until wanda sets the book down and lets the pages comb to a close, as knees move his direction and she ends up, decidedly, leaning towards him, face pressed against the top cushion. )
It's so eerie that you can find me just like that. What was it— my breathing, or my heartbeat?
( a murmured query, eyes slowly blinking lower and lower. )
[It's raining inside, which some might assume is the reason Altaïr wears his hood into the shop, seemingly pushing it back with great reluctance only when it would be odd to leave it up. He's not here in search of anyone in particular, but he does make his way over when he spots Wanda, taking a seat at the other end of the couch and pulling out a journal from his satchel. Something close to a smile plays at his lips as he watches her for a moment.]
Is that a difficult book to finish, or are you prolonging the enjoyment?
( someone sitting at the opposite end of the couch does bring her an ounce of attentiveness that pushes her a bit violently out of her sleepiness. but, like most circumstances when one doesn't find the need to feel at risk, sleep starts tugging at the corners of her eyes quite quickly again.
altaïr's voice and words are just an added layer to allowing herself to be at ease. )
Don't.
( he's teasing her, she knows. wanda stretches her back in an attempt to push herself further awake, pushing the book up to her face and getting a sniff of the old pages—all this mostly to hide the expression she'd make, remnants of it as she brings the book back down to her lap, a tearful brim of exhaustion in her eyes.
wanda manages to glance over at the journal in his hands despite that. )
[ Cid is still getting the lay of the land in Nocwich. While he spends much of the time meeting with Summoned from other factions, he'll just as frequently find himself poking hos head into the local establishments to see what they might have on offer. It's one of these meandering visits that lead him to Wanda's quiet corner outside the tea shop, entirely by chance.
Cid smiles at her by way of greeting, coming to a stop by her table. ] Don't you look cozy. Expecting company? Or have you decided to treat yourself?
[ He'll leave without a fuss if she's waiting on someone else, but he figures he ought to say hello. ]
( entirely by chance is right, for wanda seeks out the furthest corners away from anything that implies socialization. suppose that birds of a feather flock together, and all that.
she sits back, cozy in her seat, and looks over at the owner of such distinct voice, cup of tea just shy of touching her lips. )
I do alright on my own.
( meaning that he isn't interrupting; that she isn't waiting for someone. and, in the same vein, she uses the tip of her boot to press on the rung of the chair across from her, pushing it back and out from under the table a touch, even as wanda moves to lean into her elbows, setting her cup down. )
I can get you a cup if you aren't in a rush.
( as for imposing on her time—that much should answer that question. )
[ Given that they try to meet up in Nocwich whenever they can, Steve does know some of Wanda's haunts here. They're tucked away corners that make it seem like she would rather not be bothered, and yet he has no doubt that she'll always make a spot for him. They get to see each other so infrequently, and the Horizon isn't the same as interacting in person, for all that they try to convince themselves that it is.
He's never been the fondest of the Horizon, and that feeling has only increased since that shared dream. He knows that chances of randomly falling into something like that again are slim, and yet he can't quite kick the paranoia.
It's raining in Nocwich tonight and so he knows where Wanda will have placed herself. The lounge is cozy, especially when it's wet out, and yet he's still surprised to find that she's drifted off with a book in her lap. Her even breathing makes it clear that she's actually asleep and not just resting her eyes, and so he approaches as quietly as he can, taking a seat on the other segment of the couch. He snatches up a book of his own and waits for her to wake up, not wanting to disturb her. ]
( the black hardcover of the book she's picked out is bare, holding no visible title or author for anyone to be privy to the reader's choice. wanda is just faintly aware of the rough texture of the pages under her fingertips, how the book is slanting off precariously to the side, but with how sleep grows on her, wanda doesn't quite think she cares to lose the page she's on.
tipping over to the side of the couch herself, knees aimed sideways, perhaps this is a far too comfortable sleep she is allowing herself in a public place.
as luck has it, though, she isn't always alone for long. a presence tugs at her mind, unbidden, and perhaps it has nothing at all to do with her own powers and abilities; the familiarity in the action of a seat taken nearby, of stalwart company that both aims to make sure that she isn't on her own and to be a quiet attempt at protection. eyes still closed, her expression pinches as she stretches taut on the spot, back eventually straightening as her legs do the same, pushing over the edge of the couch, a small sound of contentment that comes with a good, sleepy stretch. to wanda's future woe, her book has landed closed at her side, as she opens her eyes to focus on who has decided to join her.
she makes a face, mostly out of embarrassment for herself, exhaling into the cushion as she presses her face into it. )
You could've woken me up.
( —muffled, against the cushion, before she makes a proper effort to sit up and not look as groggy as she feels. not that this kind of thing—appearances—matters much with steve. )
( chores completed elsewhere, with peter's assistance, wanda expects to find the speedster already waiting for her in the primary settlement. it is later in the day, and with a quick wardrobe change, removing sweat-stained and dirt-ridden clothes, she steps into the path towards the inner area of the settlement, a bag in hand. it's a messenger-type bag, and one that she thinks peter could make use of; it is leather bound, the buckles made from silver, and it is bigger than what it looks.
meet me in the central plaza is what she had instructed peter, but she wonders if maybe the description was a little too vague? hopefully not.
so, wanda sits on a bench, pulling at a stray stitching in the fabric of her dress. peter will find her—this much she knows. )
[ her instructions were just fine. he likes that about wanda — she's concise when she needs to be, tells him things that are easy to follow and won't leave room for him to overthink. unfortunately, it means there's nothing stopping him from being waylaid a few times to help people on his way to meet her, and by the time he shows up, he looks a little more dirt-ridden compared to when she'd last seen him. ]
Waited long? [ he plops himself on the bench next to her, finishing up a slice of toast someone had given him as thanks. ] My bad. [ and without so much as a pause, he's looking at her messenger bag curiously. ] What's in the bag?
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✦ SOLVUNN ✦ OTA ✦ JULY˖
( B ) GAINING FAVORS
A
Michael takes a step inside and then stands and waits there in front of the door as she calls for patience.]
If you're in the middle of business hours, I can come back another time.
[It's only a little surprising to him to find her in the middle of a deal, and he observes the rest of the exchange in silence. Wanda likes her solitude but that seems to apply mostly to crowds. She's still social and as community-minded as any of the Solvunn locals.]
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( her gaze cuts over towards michael, undeterred from her exchange with the local as the young man seems to get the hint that he might as well hand over the stone requested. no point in acting contrarian in front of two summoned.
the stone is smooth, holding a bit of an ovalesque shape, but not perfect in its symmetry. it feels rough in wanda's hand, still, and her eyes peer down at it in thought.
casually, she tosses it into the pot of the pale lavender liquid. almost immediately, the stone soaks it up, leaving the cauldron dry and empty, with the stone at the bottom. her back turned to it, she grabs for a small vial, a casual lilt of her fingers bringing the stone out and inside its new glass prison. a cork closes the top, and—just like that—she's handed it back over to the local. )
Tonight, when the sky is clear, place the stone under the tree. Never touch it, and bring back the vial tomorrow.
( the instructions are clear and the local still seems nervous despite the reassured look on his face. as he steps out, wanda shrugs out a kink in her shoulder, starting to clean up. )
What do I owe your visit?
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B
She's already helped with some of the funeral arrangements back at the Primary Settlement, so her second trip out here was to help with the leviathans. Some of them are being cooked up even now, though she decided she needed a break from the strong smells of the sea and decided to take a walk around this settlement that's still rather new to her.
While she mainly sticks to the settlement proper, she isn't afraid to wander near the outskirts either, which is how she comes across Wanda — with a basket full of random items, helping some caterpillars to cross the road. ]
Oh!
[ She stops short, remembering how Aerith would always call out when the party might be in danger of trampling over flowers or little critters or both. The memory causes a pang of homesickness to hit her, but she shakes it off. ]
Sorry. Um. Did you need some help?
that aerith reference..clutches chest
she sets the caterpillar down from her fingers, a little closer to the edge where the grass resumes, then turns her head over her shoulder. wanda doesn't move from where she is, but motions at tifa with a light wave of her hand, join me, as there is a space beside wanda devoid of caterpillars tempting fate.
it's not really a situation that necessitates 'help', but the offer is a kind one nonetheless. )
If you aren't in a hurry, ( she starts, ) we could watch them for a while.
( then, a light smile, )
Not bothered by bugs?
I HAD TO...
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✦ HORIZON ✦ OTA ✦ JULY˖
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[ Percy is following along as best he can, fully prepared to dive into whatever task she's got for him. He's willing to do just about anything she asks of him, just as long as he gets to hang around here for a bit longer.
Is he being a little bit clingy? Okay, maybe. But can you blame him? He hasn't seen his own mom in ages, and Wanda was his mom for eight hundred years, never mind that they were fake. It's hard to shake that kind of connection, no matter how many weeks have passed. ]
Uh. I dunno, architecture stuff was always more Annabeth's thing. But I think I know what you mean. Demeter's cabin had a bunch of those 'naked roofs' for growing stuff on.
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wanda turns to percy, almost matching the clueless expression on his face. )
Maybe I should have invited Annabeth over, too.
( not that the boy's presence alone wasn't enough. wanda is more than thrilled to get to spend time with him, outside of the familial connection they bore for quite a long age within the illusion.
he seems to get the gist of it, either way. wanda adjusts the potted plant on her hip. )
You think it'd look good, then?
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You're onto something, I think. [ When Wanda pauses, Claire fills in, slipping small pruning sheers into one of the pockets of her apron. ] Trellises? I think you could even design them any way you like, make them decorative if you wanted, as long as it's sturdy and supportive. The nice thing is, you can experiment a bit.
[ What comes to mind automatically for her is the common white criss-cross pattern, but she assumes there have to be more options, especially when they aren't restricted in the Horizon. Anything could be a trellis if they try. ]
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she nods in claire's direction, though, taking a few steps closer to the other woman, presenting the potted plant like perhaps she would have a better idea of where it could go and how best to 'transplant' it, if necessary. it's funny, because wanda considers cooking in the horizon an unnecessary waste of time and effort, and yet she indulges in the active handiwork that comes with setting up a garden proper. )
Do you think you could put up an example of one? Or — perhaps a sketch? The idea is a little vague for me even now.
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just gonna slip this in before we get to a fade lol 🐝
🫡 🐝
🩷 fade~
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he tilts his head towards her, as if getting a better look at her face will help him divine the word stuck on the tip of her tongue. he tries a few. ]
A... pavilion? Pergola?
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( —she isn't particularly sure. they are something in her mind, but it eludes her as well even in her sokovian, for she never grew up learning the words for those kinds of things; hardly any time for upscale gardening when at war. )
Pergola feels right.
( she sets the pot that she is carrying down on a nearby bench. )
What do you think of it?
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✦ NOCWICH ✦ OTA ✦ JULY˖
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Here, there was little for him to do except fall back into the routine that he's told himself has to be comfortable because it's the only foreseeable one for the next little while.
Thankfully going to Nocwich serves a purpose, namely procuring supplies that would be otherwise unavailable to those in Nocwich. He's just about to make his way back to the portals when the downpour comes swift and unexpectedly, leaving him no choice but to duck into the nearest tea shop. He looks every bit a wet dog as he rushes inside, sending the little bell clattering above the door and disturbing the peaceful oasis inside.
The disturbance draws several looks and he offers nothing more than an apologetic nod as he makes his way towards the counter to order his drink. It seems that he and Wanda both have similar ideas in picking quiet corners. But his is out of instinct: he wants somewhere his back can face a wall and his eyes set on the door in front of him. Before he makes it to his chosen spot however, he spots Wanda. Water drips unceremoniously on the floor as he steps up beside her. ]
Is this spot taken?
[ ...No he doesn't plan on sitting. He knows his sopping wet and was raised with more manners than that. If anything, he's asking if he can stand where he is. ]
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his presence is enough to pull wanda from whatever nap she was dozing off into, setting the book down on the side as she stares at him for a moment, almost in disbelief at the fact that they should meet again and that he is wet, again. )
I think you can tell it isn't.
( taken, that is, though she isn't too aware why he might be wanting to hang around. not that she minds his presence.
before wanda can offer to dry him, just like last time, a werewolf shows up at his side with a number of towels. )
Please, if you would.
( closer to the front, there already is someone mopping at the drops from the dark and polished wood planks. wouldn't want there to be a dry stain left. wanda keeps herself from laughing. )
You should greatly insist.
I— yes, I certainly should.
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wrap soon?
wrap NOW!!!
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he steps over to her quietly, no sound at all from crossing the room and then he settles on the couch by her feet. he wonders if she'll feel that. he waits, listening to he continue to breathe, before he puts a hand on her knee and starts rubbing gently, wondering if that'll wake her up or lull her into a deeper sleep.
honestly, either one was fine with him. )
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it makes her feel balanced, and for a few seconds, she remains the same as she tries to press on with her reading.
that is, until wanda sets the book down and lets the pages comb to a close, as knees move his direction and she ends up, decidedly, leaning towards him, face pressed against the top cushion. )
It's so eerie that you can find me just like that. What was it— my breathing, or my heartbeat?
( a murmured query, eyes slowly blinking lower and lower. )
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wrap-up soon?
sounds good!
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Is that a difficult book to finish, or are you prolonging the enjoyment?
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altaïr's voice and words are just an added layer to allowing herself to be at ease. )
Don't.
( he's teasing her, she knows. wanda stretches her back in an attempt to push herself further awake, pushing the book up to her face and getting a sniff of the old pages—all this mostly to hide the expression she'd make, remnants of it as she brings the book back down to her lap, a tearful brim of exhaustion in her eyes.
wanda manages to glance over at the journal in his hands despite that. )
Are you going to write one?
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Cid smiles at her by way of greeting, coming to a stop by her table. ] Don't you look cozy. Expecting company? Or have you decided to treat yourself?
[ He'll leave without a fuss if she's waiting on someone else, but he figures he ought to say hello. ]
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she sits back, cozy in her seat, and looks over at the owner of such distinct voice, cup of tea just shy of touching her lips. )
I do alright on my own.
( meaning that he isn't interrupting; that she isn't waiting for someone. and, in the same vein, she uses the tip of her boot to press on the rung of the chair across from her, pushing it back and out from under the table a touch, even as wanda moves to lean into her elbows, setting her cup down. )
I can get you a cup if you aren't in a rush.
( as for imposing on her time—that much should answer that question. )
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He's never been the fondest of the Horizon, and that feeling has only increased since that shared dream. He knows that chances of randomly falling into something like that again are slim, and yet he can't quite kick the paranoia.
It's raining in Nocwich tonight and so he knows where Wanda will have placed herself. The lounge is cozy, especially when it's wet out, and yet he's still surprised to find that she's drifted off with a book in her lap. Her even breathing makes it clear that she's actually asleep and not just resting her eyes, and so he approaches as quietly as he can, taking a seat on the other segment of the couch. He snatches up a book of his own and waits for her to wake up, not wanting to disturb her. ]
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tipping over to the side of the couch herself, knees aimed sideways, perhaps this is a far too comfortable sleep she is allowing herself in a public place.
as luck has it, though, she isn't always alone for long. a presence tugs at her mind, unbidden, and perhaps it has nothing at all to do with her own powers and abilities; the familiarity in the action of a seat taken nearby, of stalwart company that both aims to make sure that she isn't on her own and to be a quiet attempt at protection. eyes still closed, her expression pinches as she stretches taut on the spot, back eventually straightening as her legs do the same, pushing over the edge of the couch, a small sound of contentment that comes with a good, sleepy stretch. to wanda's future woe, her book has landed closed at her side, as she opens her eyes to focus on who has decided to join her.
she makes a face, mostly out of embarrassment for herself, exhaling into the cushion as she presses her face into it. )
You could've woken me up.
( —muffled, against the cushion, before she makes a proper effort to sit up and not look as groggy as she feels. not that this kind of thing—appearances—matters much with steve. )
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✦ JULY QUEST˖
meet me in the central plaza is what she had instructed peter, but she wonders if maybe the description was a little too vague? hopefully not.
so, wanda sits on a bench, pulling at a stray stitching in the fabric of her dress. peter will find her—this much she knows. )
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Waited long? [ he plops himself on the bench next to her, finishing up a slice of toast someone had given him as thanks. ] My bad. [ and without so much as a pause, he's looking at her messenger bag curiously. ] What's in the bag?
[ snacks...? ]
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