abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] heart and my hands, don't fail me now

[ His previous trip to Wanda's domain had been less than stellar (really fucked up, actually), so he's a bit more cautious when he goes up the more than familiar street to her brick loft. He's carrying a cardboard box of ingredients and supplies, filled with some stuff he thinks she could use or might need while they're doing their thing. Cooking. Of the home variety, which isn't something Carmy's done in, hell, forever? Not since before he took off to New York.

Anyways, he figures this'll be fine. Right? He likes Wanda. She's chill. She doesn't seem to expect a whole lot out of him, and Peter's nice, too. And yeah, sure, okay, she's obviously got some heavy stuff going on—the shit he saw when they fell together—but don't they all?

He's wearing the same jacket as she'd have seen before, thick curls stuffed under a baseball cap. Same denim jeans and white t-shirt. It'd be easy to assume he isn't a guy who bothers changing out of his clothes, Horizon magic or not, but despite how plain the whole ensemble is, his outfit's spotless, the fit of it the opposite of sloppy.

He shifts the box to one hand, balanced expertly, and. Looks? Is there a buzzer? Should he call up to her window? After a second, he knocks. ]

Edited 2024-10-03 23:37 (UTC)

( wanda is waiting for him, of course, as they had previously agreed to meet again when the horizon was not a mess and a half. while she hasn't really sorted through what her shared domain should be, restored, wanda has put some effort in certain rooms in the apartment building. she had told carmy to find a blue door (teal, some might say), and this very specific space is one that she's tried to spruce up, make a little friendly for the senses.

opening the door, she greets carmy with a smile. )

Hey.

( he looks prepared, with the box at his side, but he looks like he's anticipating so many things to happen. maybe that's just how he is. she pulls the door open further, revealing what would be a kitchen. this place was designed specifically for this purpose; further in, however, there is a lofty space for a living room, connecting to another door. it's what she envisions when thinking of 'cooking at home'. feet are bare, her clothes loose and baggy, and there's a puppy following after her, trying to bite at her ankles. )

I haven't really picked— a 'vibe', I guess. ( she scrunches her nose, hand loosely on the frame of the door before she closes it behind him. ) But I think this space will do.

( she points down at the pup, who is now hiding behind her heels and debating if sniffing carmy's shoes are worth her trouble. )

This is Mary, by the way.

[ Carmy perks up when the door opens and he returns her smile with one that's small but genuine. ]

Hi. [ He steps over the threshold, glancing around as he does to check it out. ] No, no, it looks great. It's nice.

[ Cozy, if you ask him. Lots of natural light, furniture and decor. It looks like a place that belongs to somebody who likes to be at home and has a reason to wanna enjoy it. Something more than a place you come home to and pass out on the couch with the TV on, you know?

He looks down at his feet to avoid stepping on any curious pets as he goes to the counter and sets down the box. That's...shit. That actually might be the cutest fucking dog he's ever seen. ]

Yeah? Hey, Mary. [ He leans down to give the puppy a cursory pat on the head before he takes off his jacket, rolls up his sleeves, and heads to the sink to wash his hands. ] What is she, a collie?

( she helps him a little with the box, even if he does seem to have it fully under control, setting it further up on the counter once he goes to deliver attention to mary and then heads towards the sink.

wanda can't help but smile down at the puppy—that actually might be the cutest fucking dog i've ever seen—ringing loud and clear in her mind. a proud moment for her. )

Was the 'Lassie' from TV a collie? I think she is supposed to be something like that, maybe a mix.

( she turns around, leaning back against the counter, casual, and raises a hand. in that same moment, the puppy sits to attention, floppy ears moving comically with a tilt of her head. )

She is supposed to be a guide dog for the blind guy ( (matt's calling her his girlfriend to people, she demotes him to 'the blind guy') ) who shares this Horizon-space with me. She'll get there.

( to those guide dog standards, but likely won't. for now, she gets to be the most adorable. she glances over at carmy, all raring up to go with the cooking. )

Jumping right to it, huh. Where do you want me, chef?

( she's teasing him. )

Yeah, a Rough Collie, [ Carmy answers with the casual confidence of somebody who's carried this extremely specific piece of information for years. Call it the consequence of being the quiet kid who went home and watched TV all afternoon while coloring his little drawings.

Blind guy sort of catches him off guard, though, not 'cause of...that, but because he really did just think the dog was, y'know. A random pet. Working dog, huh? That's cool. Something tells him there's a little more to it if this guy's sharing an apartment with her in their dreamscape.

His smile is an ironic twist of his lips, like he gets exactly why she's teasing him. It's just habit, he guesses. Pet a dog, wash your hands before you unpack the food.

Which he moves to do now. ] You tell me. Your kitchen, chef. What're we making?

( it might sound like he's teasing her, but there is something earnest enough about carmy that has wanda taking his word for what it is: honest. it tickles her bemused, truth be told, and turns her attention then to the box that he's brought. )

What do you have there?

( but then she opts for a smile. )

I was thinking we could do sarmas, the minced meat inside grape leaves. You know those? And... maybe something you're more familiar with? A dish that you would like to make. What is a signature Carmy dish?

Uh— [ Carmy shows her what he's taking out, setting them neatly onto the counter. ] Just the basics, fresh herbs, butter but like the good shit, black garlic...fennel. You know, from the farmer's market.

[ Things to get them started. ]

Oh, and—I brought you these. Giardiniera. [ He pulls out a jar filled with pickled vegetables: carrots, cauliflower, celery, bell peppers. ] Maybe you've had it before, if you've eaten around New York, but this is my family's recipe.

[ Since she showed him hers, he figured she might like to try his version of family pickles. As for a Carmy dish, he doesn't have to give it too much thought, since he was thinking about it on the way here, less 'cause he assumed he'd be cooking it and more 'cause that's just something he does. Think about food, what he wants to make. After the last time he and Wanda were together, he settles on something that feels important.

The next item that comes out of the box is a can of tomato sauce. One of the smaller ones. ] Family spaghetti. It's...not my dish, actually, it's my brother's.

I don't think I have ever had black garlic in my life.

( has she seen it, of course? has she been curious about it? yes. but her time as an avenger was never a culinary adventure, especially when she spent most of that time as a fugitive. wanda keeps her smile, though, taking the jar with the pickled vegetables into her own hands. )

Gi-ar-di-nera— ( she knows she is saying it wrong, but she just grins at him. it's clear that his family is of italian descent. it is an aspect of americans that amuses her, how much they are a product of european immigration and how much they have pushed away from those roots.

but wanda gets the impression that carmy keeps close to those roots, through cooking. ) I will give it a try. Wait.

( looking inside one of the drawers, she pulls out a small fork and a spoon, then finding a small saucer on the overhead cupboards. she opens the jar, scoops out a spoonful onto the saucer, and uses the fork to bring some of the pickled vegetables to her mouth. )

We had a similar thing in Sokovia. Torshi. Many countries share it— this is really good, though.

( it does remind her of home, in the way that one can taste that homely flavor in family recipes. it makes sense, then, that carmy insists that he will make the family spaghetti, a dish that was— his brother's.

smiling gently, wanda puts a hand over carmy's—he has many tattoos, she notices. with a solemn nod, she appreciates how much courage it takes to bring up his brother, knowing that carmy no longer has a brother. grief is strange, and wanda now has the hindsight to know that this kind of effort is not one she should reciprocate by babying him about his feelings. )

He was a cook, too? ( was, such a cruel verb tense, but loss is not something to be kept in the dark. she pulls away, hunching down to find some pots and pans for this endeavor. mary, the puppy, comes to sniff around, too, as if she could help. ) Let's make it. You can look inside the fridge for cold ingredients.

( wanda leaves it open, the space, in case he wants to talk more about his brother; the question was lobbed his way, soon tempered by lifelines to pull away from it if he preferred. )

Yeah? It's sweeter. Tangy, kind of.

[ It's pretty clear Carmy hasn't got any intention of using everything he brought. It's the equivalent of a handyman bringing his toolbox if toolboxes contained spice jars and extra virgin olive oil (the good shit, the best).

He watches her taste it. She likes it, yeah? That's good. There's a second where his brain stumbles over Sokovia—he swears he's never heard of it—but he's not exactly an expert on geography? Anyway, it's not important, and he moves on quickly to the spaghetti. The story behind that. ]

I guess? I mean, we all cooked, it was kind of a family thing, like holidays, Sunday dinners, that kind of stuff. [ And of course, there was The Beef. Can't forget The Beef, right?

He opens the fridge for some Parmesan cheese, thinks he's gonna give her a short and sweet answer and leave it at that, but then he looks up at her and he's reminded she's lost a brother, too. Somehow, it all comes tumbling out as he moves automatically through the steps of peeling garlic (plain, not black). ]

Um, but my brother, Michael, he had this spaghetti dish at the sandwich shop. I always hated it, it was oily and—and it had way too much sauce. It was a mess, you know? But after he died, I found...he left me a note. I thought he didn't, but he did. And—it's stupid, he put the fucking recipe on the back of it.

[ He made it that day. And...now he's making it again, if she's still into eating it after he overshared like crazy. ]

( a family so immersed in cooking, how it brought them together. is it any surprise that one (or maybe more) of the children raised in that environment would become a chef? open up a restaurant? some things are inherent. wanda has often wondered how her life would have panned out if sokovia hadn't been stilled in time with all the conflict they had to endure.

what family traditions would have blossomed without fear of gunfire outside? what would she be doing, as a career? what would pietro, had he been given the chance—

carmy speaks some more about his brother, and wanda sets the pots and pans down in place over the stove, watching as he goes about the motions of preparing to cook almost automatically. michael — the brother now has a name. michael, who—from what she understands—took his life and left a note.

from what wanda can get from him, it seems like he expects her to say something about what he's just said. something to destroy the veil of it being sane or good or anything at all. )

It's not stupid.

( maybe that was everything michael had written on the note, but if it was or wasn't, that isn't the point. )

I think... ( she hedges over what she wants to say, knowing how personal and intimate this kind of memory he is sharing with her is. ) It's sad, of course, thinking this is how you got it, but... I think we should make it. That you should make it often, too.

( michael wanted carmy to have the recipe for a reason. wanda looks around an apron for herself, tying it up and standing closer to carmy working on the garlic. )

How can I help?

( she'll work on her sarmas soon enough, but first — maybe he wants to share more about this recipe, about his brother. )

Edited 2024-11-01 15:10 (UTC)

[ Everybody tells you that grief is complicated, but Carmy gets the feeling that it's always been a lot more fucking complicated with him than it is with anybody else. Most people, he thinks, would've gone to the funeral and given a eulogy and—whatever. Done the circuit. You know? The stuff you're supposed to do when somebody in your life suddenly isn't there anymore.

But he didn't. (He tried.)

Now he's got a recipe for spaghetti and a restaurant he's pretty sure he royally fucked up right before he was yanked here.

Guess none of it matters anymore. Not while he's...wherever the hell he is right now. In Wanda's kitchen. That seems like a simple way to think about it. ]

Uh— [ He pulls out thick, fresh stems of basil. ] Strip the leaves off these. What about you? [ He sets a pot onto the stove to boil. ] Sounds like you've got a few family recipes up your sleeve, too.

[ So, good thing he did a temp check before the Twinkie situation went overboard? 'Cause there's a good chunk of folks who super fucking wanted one. He's both surprised and not, one of those things where he knows he made the right call when he made it but spent a few days on and off doubting himself until he got genuine proof.

He calculates the numbers, thinks he's pretty solid on them between the ingredients he's got on hand and is allowed to take without getting an ass-kicking from the chef, and how many people he's promised to feed. Then he piles it all into a two large trays, tells Orvyn he'll be back in a few, and takes off through the portal to the forever-dark city they call Nocwich.

It's not too weird if he doesn't think about it.

The first tray's cleared out pretty quick. The second, he's put aside for the man of the hour: Peter, specifically, who he spots coming at him with the platinum hair. Carmy lifts his head and nods as a greeting. ]

Yo. Right on time.

Edited 2024-10-03 22:48 (UTC)

I'm always on time.

[ is what he says in lieu of a greeting, a corner of his mouth tilted up in something that's a little too wry to be a smirk and more like a lopsided smile. a bit of an inside joke that he doesn't bother to elaborate on. more importantly, carmy will notice that peter is carrying a sizable load in his arms: a wooden crate that sounds like there's glass bottles in it, and a tray covered with cheese cloth on top. he doesn't look like he's struggling with the weight at all—moving at super speed makes it basically weightless, even if he did slow down some distance away to approach carmy at normal speed.

from the first time they'd met, carmy always gave him the vibe that he's about two seconds away from vibrating off this mortal coil. peter figures he should give him a break where he can. ]

Anyway, this is for you. [ peter sets the crate down next to carmy, lifting the tray and the lid off of it. inside are multiple bottles of soda. ] Your Coke, as promised. And, as if she hasn't spoiled us enough, [ he pulls off the cheese cloth with a flourish to reveal the cernički ćupteti beneath. ] Chipotle cupcakes from Wanda.

[ yes, he knows how to pronounce what they're called properly. no, he doesn't care if it's wrong. it's funnier this way. ]

[ Peter, what does that mean.

Carmy blinks but he crouches down next to the crate as Peter puts it on the ground. He doesn't...really have a table or anything for his Twinkie service so the trays are just on a barrel he borrowed from somebody. ]

Oh, shit. [ He look inside. Those really are bottles of Coke, huh? That's kinda wild. ] You actually did it?

[ He pulls out a bottle, curious and distracted so that he doesn't notice the Chipotle cupcakes (what?) until they're held in front of him. Carmy peers. Okay, that's definitely not what they're called but he's gonna roll with it. He recognizes them, had them out of this incredible food truck once, but it's been a while. ]

Thanks. Uh— [ Right. He's got stuff to exchange. He takes the tray of Twinkies, wrapped in a towel, and returns the offering to Peter. ] Here. These are yours. Make sure Wanda gets two of these, I promised her two.

[ there's a grin on his face, crooked and brief as he watches carmy pull out one of the bottles before it smooths down into something more neutral. ]

Yep. It was kinda touch and go at first—we tried to do it the normal way but gave up after, like, the third try. But then Wanda did her witchy stuff, [ he wriggles his fingers a little, like how she would when she's using her powers. ] And there you go.

[ he doesn't elaborate on what the witchy stuff is. either way, he's clearly pleased with the way it turned out. he'll just plop right down on the ground next to carmy, switching the cernički ćupteti out for the tray of twinkies. he knows what it is, but his face lights up when he pulls back the towel anyway. excuse him as he immediately shoves one in his mouth. ]

Two? [ he says around his mouthful of twinkie, managing to swallow before— ] Who's she giving the other one to? Matt?

[ it's more of a rhetorical question than anything serious, despite the exaggerated furrow between his brows. thankfully, he moves on quickly. ]

Don't tell her I said that. She got super defensive with me the last time we got on the subject of boyfriends. Anyway, thanks for these, I now have a reason to live again.

[ Witchy stuff. Right, okay.

Actually, Jack's got the same type of witchy stuff that Peter is indicating so Carmy just nods in that way that says he knows what Peter means. Sometimes, stuff that shouldn't exist just pop out of the air, like the cigarettes he's been smoking, the same cigarette he lights up now 'cause Peter doesn't seem to mind and he's outta Twinkies to hand out. ]

Her boyfriend? [ Carmy raises an eyebrow. Does he wanna know? ] I'd ask, but, uh, your sister seems like somebody who could kill me with a glance, so.

[ He's gonna leave that one alone. Look, he likes Wanda, he likes her a lot actually, and she's been really nice to him when she didn't have to be, but she's also got...an aura? He guesses? Like Tina. He loves T, but she'll also fuck him up. ]

[ he doesn't mind the smoke. generally, no one's allowed to smoke on school grounds, but he's seen a few of the older teens sneak off to do it enough times that it doesn't faze him anymore. or maybe it's just some sort of distant familiarity—in another time, in another place, with logan and his cigars. but anyway, they're talking about wanda killing people with a glance now. ]

Oh, for sure. [ no hesitation, because it's true. ] She's terrifying. I'm pretty sure she tried to kill me right when I got summoned here.

[ that distinctly doesn't sound like a complaint and more like... a compliment, or a point of pride, maybe. ]

But you're fine, trust me. She likes you and I doubt she'd actually try to hurt you.

[ Okay, Carmy definitely meant it more in the hyperbolic sense and not, you know, literally, and Peter's casual admission makes him pause like he isn't sure if Peter's also speaking hyperbolically and just happens to be...not great at conveying that clearly. ]

She did? [ Neutral reply, that's good. Carmy scratches the back of his head while smoke drifts from his nostrils. ] Did she, uh, did she say why she did that?

[ Wait, she likes him? Oh. It's not that Carmy thinks Wanda dislikes him or anything like that, but he's got a hard time imagining anybody taking a liking to him in the general sense—in that way where others are gonna notice and comment on it—which, yeah, he gets is kind of stupid considering Wanda's invited him over to cook in her kitchen and introduced him to her dog and has basically done all of the shit that most people do only when they think you're pretty chill. ]

[ CLOSED ] heart and my hands, don't fail me now

— wanda.

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cw: suicide ref

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— peter.

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