westwhere | our troubles will be out of sight

Entry tags:

our troubles will be out of sight

WHO: Wanda and you!
WHEN: Month of December
WHERE: The Inn
WHAT: Checking things out, getting a feel for her new companions, etc
WARNINGS: Will note as needed.

I.THE LAKE

[A frozen lake is a frozen lake, but this one is strange. Wanda doesn't quite step on the ice itself, but she does stay very close to the edge, eyes narrowed as she tries to discern what she thinks she saw... bump the ice from below?]

Did you see that? [She'll ask whoever is near.]

II. THE MOUTH

Are you sure that's a good idea?

[Interested in taking a sword, shield, or whatever from that pit? Well, Wanda's making a face like she certainly doesn't think it's a good idea.]

III. THE WELLS

[A morning of wandering has Wanda slowly approaching the wells. Generally, she wouldn't care to look, but she's got nothing to do and nowhere to be, so she's allowing her curiosity to win. They look very old, possibly out of use, but as she draws near the first she gives the lid a little push. Far too snug for her to move using her own muscle, which she suspected, but she didn't expect to see blood on the light dusting of snow when she stepped back.

She crouches down to get a better look. It's pretty hard to mistake blood for anything else. Still...

Come spook her while she's already feeling vaguely spooked.]

IV. THE FOREST

[Collecting herbs and berries isn't the most engaging task to help out at the inn, but it does give her an opportunity to watch the villagers. It feels colder out here, and much more dangerous. Which is why Wanda calls out to whoever she might see,]

Careful. They said there are wolves around here.

[Wolves, direwolves. Same difference.]

[ooc: Easy peasy prompts! If you want something more specific, or more actiony, feel free to PM me and I'll gladly work something out for us.]

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[That's not obvious at all. Wanda gently grimaces and chooses to focus on her coffee, first.]

A witch or something similar. [Different.] I'm only familiar with the former.

[She has a better sense of magical things now, but it's still a muscle she has yet to strengthen.]

Witches seem to be something else, to you. With masters.

For most of the witches I have met, they served only one master: Lucifer.

[ She'll add some sugar to her coffee, but no cream. Despite this, she let's it sit like decoration rather than drink it. Her hands remain folded beside the cup while she watches Wanda's every little move. ]

I believe that certain powers can be drawn from different sources and beliefs, but I had little experience in witnessing this before arriving in Serthica. Might I ask...where you learned your craft?

[Lucifer. Wanda looks openly surprised at that, and then scoffs.]

I've never had a master and no one taught me magic. [She's learned through trial and error. Sometimes, very big, tragic errors. The Darkhold enlightened her and manipulated her both at once, but it and Agatha were useful learning experiences.]

They call it chaos magic. Does that sound familiar to you at all?

[Some part of her is hopeful that it does, because being the only one familiar with it is quite isolating. And Wanda and isolation don't mix well.]

[ Officially, Joan had never labeled the kind of power that Vanessa was born with, but she had called it wicked. She had said that it made her want to hide and never come out. Vanessa knows that it's something older than time, something called Amunet, and that even now it breathes in the shadows between worlds where life and death are no different. She knows it must stay there, but something within it stirs at the very concept of chaos magic.

Vanessa pauses, then gently shakes her head. ]

Not in such a way, but... I was only ever afforded the chance to converse with one witch about such things, and our time together was...too short.

[ Still one of her most painful memories, but she's focused beyond that right now. ]

From where do you draw its power, if not faith in a god? ...Something within? Something that whispers?

[ As the breakfast crowd begins to disperse and the Doctor is slightly less preoccupied, his attention has been increasingly drawn to the conversation being shared between Vanessa and one of the newer members of their...traveling party. Left only to his own interpretations until Vanessa had returned to retrieve coffee, the Doctor had already begun to draw his own conclusions about their conversation; conclusions which only fractured and then multiplied into endless questions, after speaking with Vanessa when she'd approached.

It's only because he worries about her, perhaps overly much, to the extent that he feels it's his duty to inquire after her and be sure she's alright. Though she'd indulged him to a point, he needs to just be absolutely sure that all is well, so under the pretense of needing to help clean off tables in the dining area, the Doctor slings a damp rag over one shoulder and a dry rag over the other. At the table adjacent to where Vanessa and Wanda are conversing, the Doctor begins to stack up dirtied dishes, wiping a few grease stains off the table...over and over and over again. ]

Edited (what are words) 2022-12-28 03:52 (UTC)

[Something that whispers sounds more correct than Wanda expects it to. Something within, something that whispers. She was meant to rule everything--perhaps as a god, of sorts--so...

Wanda opens her mouth to figure out how to word that without sounding entirely insane before shutting it, lips pressing into a thin line as her eyes drift over to the guy just a little too close for Wanda to speak openly.]

What did you say your name was, by the way?

[Since they've been talking witches and Lucifer and chaos and all that.

Leaving her meal entirely untouched thus far.]

I didn't.

[ It's a light-hearted tease with a coy smile, which is somewhat in contrast to the sharp glare she flings at the Doctor with a glance. They aren't going to get far beyond names while he lurks. He probably thinks she won't tell him everything...because she likely won't. But she'll tell him enough, and that's only if he leaves before irritating her newest acquaintance. ]

It's Vanessa Ives. ...Miss. [ Though she expects it won't matter to offer a title. Very few here adhere to the etiquette of her time. ] And your name?

[ The Doctor is currently existing in a delusional reality in which his current preoccupation with simply cleaning the table is completely subtle and neither one of them could possibly deduce that he is-maybe-spying on them a little.

Exchanging names. Normal. Good. Nothing wrong here.

He should leave, maybe, but not yet, although he hazards a glance at Vanessa and almost winces at the glare she levels his way. He can be oblivious, yes, but she's made her feelings quite clear with one look. Impressive, honestly. Now he really should be going. So, he is, he will. Just one more-

Oh, look, a spoon fell onto the floor, he just needs to slowly bend down and retrieve it, inspect it to make sure it's not damaged, lay it down on the tray of items to be cleaned, and then...slowly, ever so slowly, he'll start to finally walk away. Just moving sluggishly enough to hopefully catch the other woman's response. ]

[So, she's the type to express a title. Not too surprising, from the feeling Wanda gets from her. Her gaze flits over to the man, following Vanessa's clear look over, and waits a beat.]

Wanda Maximoff.

[She points a finger at the very slow, not at all rushed retreating figure.]

And him?

[ Vanessa is probably more lax on titles than most people from her 'Victorian' era, never having insisted that people here use them. She only continues to use them for others, needing that distance for her own sake. Given there was no mention of Mrs., she'll assume Wanda is also unmarried until she's corrected.

The motion to the sluggishly retreating figure gets Vanessa to glance over to the Doctor again. Lucky he can't see her look, though he may feel it, even if it's joined with a smile of grudging amusement. She'll answer a bit louder—pointedly. ]

A well-meaning man who cannot resist curiosities and enjoys tempting fate. [ She is incredibly irritated but she's also so very touched, just pinning him with a strange mixed glare before turning her attention back on Wanda. ] He goes by the Doctor. Forgive him...again. I suspect he only worries.

[ Him. Oh, yes, he did rather...bungle this, didn't he? Once again failing at being stealthy in any way at all. He does mean well, or he tries to, even if he might fail in the execution at times. Vanessa went away (briefly, true, but she still went away) and then she came back and there was talk of Lucifer and witches, and now here, suddenly, another witch. Perhaps he can be forgiven (later, maybe, much later) for just needing to be sure all is well.

And now, very much assured and perhaps slightly chagrined, the Doctor tugs for a moment at his tie, straightens it, and then turns to face them both. His expression is one of humble apology, to start, but then rather quickly his characteristically bright grin takes its place. ]

Delighted! Wanda Maximoff - excellent name. [ He points with a thumb casually at Vanessa. ] She's right, of course; tempting fate, my middle name. Sort of. Just an expression, of course, because that wouldn't be the best middle name, honestly. Haven't given a middle name much thought before actually.... [ He catches himself, clapping his hands together lightly, briefly. ]

I do get carried away sometimes, sorry! I'll leave you to it, but if you get famished later, call on me, I'll sort you out with something truly delightful. Those eggs were just a warm up, not my best work.

[ Unsure how to end this and leave on a good note, he opts for a casual salute at them both before doing a quick spin around and excusing himself back to the kitchen before he...makes it worse than it maybe already is... ]

[That is so much talking. Wanda politely listens, though her gaze does drift to Vanessa to see how she's taking this. This is how he... normally is, she assumes. He seems nice, and that's certainly not a bad thing. It's just different.]

He seems sweet.

[Finally said as he leaves.]

What would have him worried?

[ He does talk a lot! And Vanessa is trying not to look enchanted when he does, and she mostly succeeds through her mild glare. At least he doesn't seem to have scared off Wanda, so his attempt to eavesdrop is immediately forgiven and she nods at the remark on his sweetness. Yes, yes he is.

Finally, she'll take a sip of her coffee. It's cooled off enough, and it gives her a moment to think of how she wants to answer. It's rare for her to even consider sharing that much, but they won't get anywhere if she's too coy. Vanessa is far more interested in answers these days. ]

Throughout my life, I have been...hunted.

[ Her expression sobers considerably, gaze even casting downward momentarily as she loses herself in scattered memories, but she's quick to resume eye contact. ]

Your query left me startled, and he knows of those who have hunted me for this curse. But...I do not think you are an enemy.

[There's a sympathetic tip of Wanda's head, brow creased. There's something fond between Vanessa and the Doctor, something she can recognize as familiar, but she dashes that thought before it can spiral into the land of bitterness. There are other things that are familiar and better to focus on.]

I've been hunted, too.

[She knows the feeling.]

I'm not after anything. Just... satisfying my curiosity, I guess.

We both have our curiosities, then.

[ It's not surprising to hear that Wanda has also been hunted. Vanessa can sense the danger in her. It's something Vanessa has always been drawn to since she was young, and her pursuers have taken advantage of her desire for that dark embrace. It's enough to keep her wary of Wanda's capabilities, even as she leans just slightly closer, elbows resting on the table's edge. ]

What came of those who hunted you?

Nothing good for them.

[It's all in the past tense. But she's less interested in the stories of being hunted and who might be the predator.]

What can you do?

[ Immediately, she draws back. The answer has never been simple, but even the one she gave Ethan Chandler so long ago no longer seems applicable, especially not in the face of a witch who nurtures magic born of chaos. ]

I...

[ They've only just met, and Vanessa knows it would be foolish to be too open, but there's also a connection that she can't deny, something felt so deep that she would know if malice touched it.

What can she do? The question reaches the monster inside, and it coils and pulses in her gut with the desire to answer; so much her jaw tightens and her gaze glosses while she appraises Wanda. It whispers and reaches and pulls. I've supped on Lucifer's heart and been found wanting. The blood of Amun-Ra has run dry on my tongue. I can taste your darkness, creature. Won't you let me drink deep? ]

...I am still learning my limitations. [ A pause, then with a softer grate to an already ragged voice, breaking her gaze to look down to her coffee. She stops and starts as her thoughts drift to shadowy memories. ] I have yet to discover where they end. There are times when I am...not altogether myself. Or, rather...there are parts of me in conflict, and I am not entirely sure what I'm capable of.

[She's about to tell her that she doesn't really need to answer, that she's simply curious because so few are even remotely like her, but then she speaks. The poor meal is entirely abandoned along with the coffee, Wanda's attention entirely on Vanessa.]

And you were born like this?

[ After a moment, she nods and looks back up. Since she was born; since before she was born. This soul has dipped a toe in eternity, and Vanessa knows she floats through ripples that have spread since before creation. ]

It is why I have never known true peace.

[ Though she may enjoy glimpses of it lately, more than she ever has before, something within will cause suffering, and not always for lack of want. She wonders at the pain that Wanda must carry. ]

You say no one taught you the arts, but you have a name for it. How did you learn? Where did you begin?

[Wanda can't say she's known much peace since getting her powers, either. And since becoming the Scarlet Witch...]

There was a book. The book of the damned. There were a lot of things in it, but there was a chapter on a being known as the Scarlet Witch. [She's saying too much, she thinks, but at the same time--she doesn't care. Little is a threat to her.] A being of unimaginable power, capable of spontaneous creation. Prophesized to either rule or destroy the world.

[She motions to herself with a shrug.]

Apparently, that's me. But that book led me down a dark path. The wrong one.

[ Wanda already had Vanessa's attention, but it's unlikely she's ever going to shake it now. How many prophecies now, for the end of days? Each with their own possible instigator, two among present company. The Doctor and Mr. Hargreeves are their own harbingers of the storm, but Wanda's magic calls to Vanessa intimately. She even talks of a book, and her eyes flicker in curiosity and yearning and nostalgia at the mention.

But... Creation. Vanessa has always connected her own powers to Death. Yet, she thinks of her scorpions—the little kiss of her deathstalker before it burrowed back down into her flesh, to her bones, to her soul. Perhaps there is something familiar to the concept of chaos, and if it could mean she isn't only restricted to Death? Wouldn't that make chaos the more virtuous path?

She stares unblinking, every muscle coiled in anticipation, but without judgment. She's enraptured. ]

And what did you decide was the right one?

The Darkhold only corrupts. [Strange had said as much, and she'd seen it in Agatha before she even had the book for her own, and yet--] I destroyed it. No one will ever be tempted by its promises, and no one will know the prophecy of the Scarlet Witch.

[Unless it's a tale that's reached beyond those who wield magic, but it's not like she's had much opportunity to sit and chat with anyone. This, here, is really the first time she's had a conversation about it. Wanda fiddles with her fingers on her lap, glancing down at them, still glad they're no longer burned with black.]

There really are some things that shouldn't be trifled with, regardless of power or intent.

[ Darkhold. A different name from the pages she once borrowed from, though both were meant to corrupt. The shame was that Vanessa had long been corrupted.

Her eyes narrow a touch to know Wanda destroyed it, squinting in a mix of admiration and disappointment. Such as it is, even if the inviting hiss through the ether is a reminder that nothing is ever final. If no one is to know the prophecy, then Vanessa can be no one, just as she's been before; Nothing more than a blade of grass. ]

Did you lose the knowledge it possessed? Or did you merely keep it from the hands of others?

It was a big book.

[Said with a wry twist of her mouth. There was so much of the dark arts in there, but she was only ever focused on ways to get her boys back. It's probably a good thing.]

It was never a thing that could be used for good.

[ Cursed books of dark magic do tend to be big, but Vanessa no longer has need of hers. The knowledge is kept within, at times even hidden from herself. Even evil can be fickle. ]

...You may be right.

[ Vanessa's said as much regarding her own powers in the past, but that never entirely kills the hope to make something more of them. Did Wanda lose that hope? Did she find a new one? There's something unsteady there, and Vanessa latches onto it. ]

But what if you are wrong? If I have learned anything from existing between worlds for so long, it's that nothing is certain. We can make our own prophecies.

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