𝓦𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 ⬡ 𝓜𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
carmesi) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2022-07-25 12:02 pm
carmesi) wrote in abraxaslogs2022-07-25 12:02 pm
Entry tags:
- claude von riegan; the wheel of fortune,
- goro; the chariot,
- himeka sui; the fool,
- julie lawry; the wheel of fortune,
- lucifer; the devil,
- matt murdock; the tower,
- peter parker (mcu); strength,
- prince wilhelm; the tower,
- sam wilson; justice,
- steve rogers; the hierophant,
- viktor; death,
- wanda maximoff; the hanged man,
- yennefer of vengerberg; the chariot
· OPEN ·
Who: Wanda Maximoff, featuring others
When: July 22-August 5
Where: Solvunn and Horizon
What: Catch-all for Wanda's Sadbatical; closed starters within. Her magic is doing some messing around within Horizons, but this is opt-in! It's not happening throughout, and only when she is present in the Horizon.
Warnings: Grief, guilt, shame, mild-suicidal thoughts, Multiverse of Madness themes, TBA
[it has been a week since wanda removed herself from gardsbruk farm and found a place to isolate herself in—a small woods hedging the border of solvunn. the journey there had been fraught with substantial pause, and, at times, she felt she couldn't breathe. all she remembers is sitting in the darkhold castle atop wundagore mountain and forcing it to fall, its destruction surrounding her, the fury of her mistakes heavy stone. to be back here, now, it's not mercy.
wanda wishes she were dead.
her first week away, exiled to this far-off forest, she's set up a hex in it. slowly, as the days went by, the hex became smaller and smaller, until it encompasses a small portion towards the center of it. at first glance, it seems inconsequential, nothing of note to be seen, but an individual more adept at magic would see that its placid visage is interrupted by the back-and-forth of red static. anyone attempting to enter it would be rejected, expelled immediately.
the days go past without her taking any conscious recollection of them. magic bursts forth from her, her sorrow, her shame inclement against her psyche. it isn't long before she starts confusing reality with delusion, in this state, in her own isolation—she tries eating because her body demands it, but she can't seem to keep anything down, water from the stream that goes past the only thing keeping her mildly aware of her circumstances. and as she stares at the stars, and the sun, and the moon, past the canopy of the trees, her eyes blur the images she sees.
finding herself barefoot, she walks the trail of trees, the silence deafening. the leaves under her feet crunch and break. unbeknownst to her, her magic trails along with her, a mind of its own, subsuming different domains in red. it remains so, until she blinks back awake into the real world, an ache in her throat. her scarlet magic pulses again in tired exhaustion, her screams unheard within her self-imposed jail.]
When: July 22-August 5
Where: Solvunn and Horizon
What: Catch-all for Wanda's Sadbatical; closed starters within. Her magic is doing some messing around within Horizons, but this is opt-in! It's not happening throughout, and only when she is present in the Horizon.
Warnings: Grief, guilt, shame, mild-suicidal thoughts, Multiverse of Madness themes, TBA
[it has been a week since wanda removed herself from gardsbruk farm and found a place to isolate herself in—a small woods hedging the border of solvunn. the journey there had been fraught with substantial pause, and, at times, she felt she couldn't breathe. all she remembers is sitting in the darkhold castle atop wundagore mountain and forcing it to fall, its destruction surrounding her, the fury of her mistakes heavy stone. to be back here, now, it's not mercy.
wanda wishes she were dead.
her first week away, exiled to this far-off forest, she's set up a hex in it. slowly, as the days went by, the hex became smaller and smaller, until it encompasses a small portion towards the center of it. at first glance, it seems inconsequential, nothing of note to be seen, but an individual more adept at magic would see that its placid visage is interrupted by the back-and-forth of red static. anyone attempting to enter it would be rejected, expelled immediately.
the days go past without her taking any conscious recollection of them. magic bursts forth from her, her sorrow, her shame inclement against her psyche. it isn't long before she starts confusing reality with delusion, in this state, in her own isolation—she tries eating because her body demands it, but she can't seem to keep anything down, water from the stream that goes past the only thing keeping her mildly aware of her circumstances. and as she stares at the stars, and the sun, and the moon, past the canopy of the trees, her eyes blur the images she sees.
finding herself barefoot, she walks the trail of trees, the silence deafening. the leaves under her feet crunch and break. unbeknownst to her, her magic trails along with her, a mind of its own, subsuming different domains in red. it remains so, until she blinks back awake into the real world, an ache in her throat. her scarlet magic pulses again in tired exhaustion, her screams unheard within her self-imposed jail.]
no subject
[she says, emphasizing the syllables in her native tongue.
there is much that she is pulling into a net from the way claude speaks—the things he says, what little (but how much) he offers as explanations. there are similarities here, and perhaps not perfect, they really speak of two people—him and her, here—who can very well relate to each other and the suffering their people have undergone.
this is why his words about memories don't sound like an empty attempt at embellishing something tragic. it's genuine, and wanda appreciates that.]
What about yours?
[whatever his answer is, wanda will nod and listen, before ultimately saying:]
You've given me something I thought I could not have again. [memories of when sokovia had been beautiful, something she will definitely have to treasure.] I will have to pay you back this favor, Claude.
no subject
When Wanda asks for the same in turn, he hesitates. There's likely no harm in saying Almyra aloud and a large part of him wants to. But. There are so many unknowns about Abraxas and what the factions may want with him or any of them, and while he trusts Wanda - a realization that startles him in its simplicity instead of needing to run circles around it first - he'd also rather not put her in any harm's way if it turns out the Free Cities has some other motive for bringing him here. ]
Fodlan is where I'm from. [ Though at the suggestion of being paid back, he follows that up with a slight twirl of one hand as thought to brush that thought away. ] Oh, I'm not really in the habit of asking for payment for favors these days. I'd be happy enough if you decided to stop by for tea now and then if it's not too much to ask.
[ Or, on second thought: maybe there is something she can for him after all. Something small, and on the topic of memories. In reality only a couple of seconds go by before Claude speaks again, but to him it feels like much longer as he weighs each word in turn before putting on a tentative smile. ] Though - if you wanted to call me Khalid when it's just the two of us here, I suppose that would do, too.
no subject
she will remember that, even if— well, it seems highly unnecessary as a point of focus for them, doesn't it? for claude offers that she should stop by for tea some other time, an offer she might just have to take as she is overly fond of tea.
but before she can even respond to him, claude speaks again—and as his words form into something solid and meaningful, wanda's smile grows.]
Is it wrong that I like Khalid better? [she offers as way of her answer; she would be more than delighted to call him by his real name when it's just the two of them.] I would be happy to visit again for tea.
[that, at least, is a certainty.]