Wanda Maximoff (
seeingscarlet) wrote in
revivalproject2020-10-21 06:46 pm
eyes I dare not meet in dreams
WHO: Wanda Maximoff and OTA
WHERE: Around Temba
WHAT:Suffering Everything is fine!
WHEN: During the Storm
WARNINGS: Violence in the second option
I.
There isn't much that actually scares Wanda anymore. Sure, she's still terrified of doctors and all the weird-looking medical equipment in the hospital, but deep down she knows it's not rational. But this? For all she knows the Storm could be reflecting reality. Tommy may have been sent home but Lorna wasn't, and there's no guarantee that Vision is safe wherever he is.
She isn't there to protect him, just like she wasn't there to save Pietro.
This...this Storm-created mockery of her husband isn't real. Wanda knows she should get up, move, do something, anything, but he is warm and solid in her arms, and if she cradles his face into her neck she can almost pretend that he's just resting, that they're just hiding away from the Storm in the peace of the greenhouse.
The real Vision wouldn't want this. She knows that too. But she thinks he would at least understand.
Wanda looks up when she hears footsteps, revealing the empty socket in Vision's forehead where the Mind Stone ought to be. "I know...I know he isn't real. Just...let me have this?"
II.
She tries. She tries so very hard to be a better person, to put something good back into the world to make up for Pietro, for the others Strucker and List had slaughtered, for the 177 people lost in Novi Grad's fall. But that dark rage that had put her on this path in the first place...it's never really gone.
(If there is hope for Natasha, there must be hope for her too. Vision would tell her it's the choice that matters. But neither of them are here anymore, and it's starting to feel like she just can't escape what she is. She was made to be a weapon. And no matter where she goes or how far she runs, that's all some people are ever going to see.)
The Storm's picked up on this, and Wanda's just been blasted to the ground by...herself?
There's another Wanda in front of her, dressed in red and black leather, eyes blazing red and hands wreathed in scarlet wisps of power. "You run from it," she says, slowly advancing. "But you know what you really are." The power hauls Wanda to her feet again and then tosses her aside like she's nothing more than a rag doll. She rolls over, groaning, while that thing wearing her face laughs at her. "This keeps happening, and this is not going to stop happening unless you make them stop. Like you should have done last time."
III.
Logically nothing about this makes sense. The ceiling above her is perfectly intact and yet...here she is, stuck under a pile of debris and trying to fight rising instinctive panic. It doesn't hurt as much as one would think it should, but after a little wiggling it quickly becomes obvious that Wanda is stuck.
Help a girl out?
IV.
[The wild card option. Someone please wrap her in a blanket and give her some cider.]
((ooc: will match styles if you'd rather do brackets!))
WHERE: Around Temba
WHAT:
WHEN: During the Storm
WARNINGS: Violence in the second option
I.
There isn't much that actually scares Wanda anymore. Sure, she's still terrified of doctors and all the weird-looking medical equipment in the hospital, but deep down she knows it's not rational. But this? For all she knows the Storm could be reflecting reality. Tommy may have been sent home but Lorna wasn't, and there's no guarantee that Vision is safe wherever he is.
She isn't there to protect him, just like she wasn't there to save Pietro.
This...this Storm-created mockery of her husband isn't real. Wanda knows she should get up, move, do something, anything, but he is warm and solid in her arms, and if she cradles his face into her neck she can almost pretend that he's just resting, that they're just hiding away from the Storm in the peace of the greenhouse.
The real Vision wouldn't want this. She knows that too. But she thinks he would at least understand.
Wanda looks up when she hears footsteps, revealing the empty socket in Vision's forehead where the Mind Stone ought to be. "I know...I know he isn't real. Just...let me have this?"
II.
She tries. She tries so very hard to be a better person, to put something good back into the world to make up for Pietro, for the others Strucker and List had slaughtered, for the 177 people lost in Novi Grad's fall. But that dark rage that had put her on this path in the first place...it's never really gone.
(If there is hope for Natasha, there must be hope for her too. Vision would tell her it's the choice that matters. But neither of them are here anymore, and it's starting to feel like she just can't escape what she is. She was made to be a weapon. And no matter where she goes or how far she runs, that's all some people are ever going to see.)
The Storm's picked up on this, and Wanda's just been blasted to the ground by...herself?
There's another Wanda in front of her, dressed in red and black leather, eyes blazing red and hands wreathed in scarlet wisps of power. "You run from it," she says, slowly advancing. "But you know what you really are." The power hauls Wanda to her feet again and then tosses her aside like she's nothing more than a rag doll. She rolls over, groaning, while that thing wearing her face laughs at her. "This keeps happening, and this is not going to stop happening unless you make them stop. Like you should have done last time."
III.
Logically nothing about this makes sense. The ceiling above her is perfectly intact and yet...here she is, stuck under a pile of debris and trying to fight rising instinctive panic. It doesn't hurt as much as one would think it should, but after a little wiggling it quickly becomes obvious that Wanda is stuck.
Help a girl out?
IV.
[The wild card option. Someone please wrap her in a blanket and give her some cider.]
((ooc: will match styles if you'd rather do brackets!))

no subject
"We were brought here together, when all of this started. But he disappeared a long time ago." She glances down. Everyone's lost someone - for Wanda, it's the worst part of this entire situation. "I wish we could know that they are safe."
no subject
"We have to trust that they know to take care of themselves. Just as we do our best to take care of ourselves so they don't need to worry." Trust, right. He has had that discussion with some of his assistants. That he should trust them more. Trust their knowledge and abilities.
In the end two of them still died and one blinded herself, but... That's besides the point he is trying to make, right?
Right.
Setting those thoughts aside, Jon bods down at the projection of Vision. "For all it's worth, he looks very capable of looking after himself? He should be upset with this storm for this misrepresentation."
no subject
She sighs, her grip on Vision tightening. "He is strong but I still worry. Is he alone in our new home? Is he in some other place like Lorna was? If he is with people who see him as a thing and not a person, more than we are here...I don't like to think about them being alone in another place like this."
no subject
Right. Some of those that are here have been abducted before. And while Jon has his share of experience with being kidnapped, he hasn't left his own Earth prior to being brought to Temba.
"It's alright to be worried, but we also need to trust in those we care and worry about." That's more or less a repetition of what he has just said. So he settles with tilting his head a little to the side. "Is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need, or- I can also just leave." An offer. She might not welcome the company he offers after all.
no subject
"I should eat something," Wanda says after a minute. There's breadfruit nearby; she's sure this illusion won't dissipate if she just gets up for a minute? She needs to find a better way to sit, at the very least. But Wanda's only shifted enough for her legs to protest - there's the pins and needles - before Vision's hand lands weakly on her arm. His lips barely move, but she can hear him whisper for her to stay.
She knows he isn't real. But she freezes anyway.