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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[ 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.

I didn't fulfill mine. I made sure of it.

[A bit of a moot point.]

Better safe than sorry, is what I've learned. Nothing is certain, but it's better to prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

[ She tilts her head. She can come back to that. As if she could ever let it go. ]

What will you do to prepare for the worst, I wonder. Are you aware of some of the worst that this world has to offer?

Are you trying to frighten me?

[She asks, a hair away from sounding amused. Joke's on her--all the worst things that could possibly happen have happened to her, and so the rest is just extra.]

[ At that, she can't resist a strange little half-smile. Déjà vu. ]

I am extending an invitation. You would be wise to be frightened, however.

Why?

[Still, there's zero alarm.]

[ Given what Wanda's already revealed, the lack of alarm is to be expected. The curiosity is even appreciated, even if Vanessa is rarely direct in rewarding it. ]

Because this place will take fears you thought long dormant and you will be tormented with them. Those around you will witness this torment. Perhaps suffer for it. An inevitability is that we are here to tear at our breast until we reveal the ugly stains upon our hearts and souls...again and again.

[At that, she tips her head, listening intently.]

That's a regular occurrence, in my life. I wouldn't appreciate an audience, but it is what it is.

...Yes. It is what it is.

[ Vanessa once claimed the same, though not in so many words, so she can't fault Wanda her confidence. In many ways it had been a regular occurrence for Vanessa, as well. There's still concern over what might happen if this world draws upon the power of the Scarlet Witch, but Vanessa will be first to defend her right to at least attempt living freely, regardless of the risk.

She may not have heard of the Scarlet Witch before, but there's something singularly familiar about what she had sensed within Wanda. If she's had more time to learn about magic, what else could she have learned? Likely nothing helpful to Vanessa, but she would be fool not to ask.

With a glance down, her brow furrows as she forms the question, but she's quick to look back up to witness Wanda's answer. ]

Does the name Amunet mean anything to you?

Amunet?

[Wanda repeats the name. An orphan in a warzone of a country, her education wasn't the best. But she remembers seeing books in the orphanage, of drawings of pyramids and pictures of hieroglyphs and statues.]

Something relating to Egypt?

Yes. An ancient name; she has been connected to Amun-Ra since the beginning.

[ From beginning to end. This makes her wonder what it means for there to be so many prophecies for world's end. Not even how it's possible, but...why. Why is fate so hellbent? ]

Even with prior help from one who specialized in such things, I am rather barren of knowledge myself. The Hidden One is another name for her, after all.

[ A sigh, and she'll reach for another sip of coffee. ]

And what is her connection to you?

[Since Wanda assumes there must be something there, something deep, for her to begin down this rabbit hole.]

And... how?

The connection is...intimate.

[ How is it that Vanessa has never spoken about this thing in such a way? To acknowledge its sentience beyond...evil? Beyond Lucifer? She thinks even the Doctor has acknowledged Amunet more than Vanessa has. As if...at every turn, something blocks her. Her memory falters. Her concerns veer. ]

I ask you this: what is there to separate you from the Scarlet Witch? I don't mean the idea of her, or a felled prophecy. I mean that magic which lives in your blood and your bones. Can one live without the other?

[Intimate. An interesting way to describe it, but Wanda can understand.]

Good question.

[She's never considered it.]

I've met another version of myself. [A kinder, luckier version of herself, living the life she wanted.] She was never the Scarlet Witch. She was never that... extreme degree of power. The potential was always in me, and I... I suppose things had to happen in a certain way for me to reach my potential. The Scarlet Witch and my chaos magic could have remained dormant, and I'd just be whatever was left. Magic, of a sort, but not the kind they write prophecies about.

Your closest of approximation of normal, perhaps?

[ How lucky that she's already been forced to consider 'another version' of herself more than once, so what Wanda's describing strikes her heart with a strange but familiar pang. Not shock or awe, but instead the kind of sadness someone knows once they've experienced what can never really be.

'A certain way'... Vanessa is certain it would have to be a way littered with tragedy. How could it not be? ]

Had my life not carried on...a certain way...

[ If Lucifer had never awoken her? ]

...then it may have been the same. I might have had a husband. Children. But a part of me would always exist beyond them. Something would strike me as Other, just as it has since my birth. So, can you understand my connection to her?

[Wanda nods in understanding.

And despite herself, she has to ask.]

Did you want that for yourself? A husband and children?

Once...some version of me did, but that dream is long dead.

[ What little she manages to smile carries something bittersweet. She has given up mourning those old wishes. It may be easier now that she has a new dream to latch onto. ]

What of you? Do you have a new dream?

our troubles will be out of sight

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