sixthiterationlogs | 008 Who are you? [OPEN]

WHO: Wanda Maximoff
WHERE: All Over
WHEN: November 10th – 22th
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: Mentions of traumatic events.

At first it was small things. Wanda forgot names and faces of those she met in the village. Something would remind her again but each day was harder. Her memories had become unclear and it took a specific question or comment to pluck a memory into focus. After a few minutes into a conversation she'd remember someone but the memory would slip away a moment later. Then she started to forget events. How long had she been in the village? It was almost a year or was it a few months. The sun wasn't going down... the fireflies... drowning. Wanda was acting strange but managed to keep her thoughts and concerns to herself. It was only after the feast that everything got worse.

November 11th - 12th | House 20

That morning, Wanda couldn't remember where she was. She woke up in her room but it was unfamiliar to her. Panic jolted through her limbs as she scrambled to get dressed and pack a bag to take with her. She didn't know where she was going but she felt like she couldn't stay here. Wanda packed a change of clothes, a bottle of whiskey that she didn't remember steeling from the feast and some food. With her backpack slung over her shoulder she crept out of the room and down the hall towards the front area of the house.

Wanda wasn't aware that Clint lived there too or that he was out that morning. All she knew was that she had to get out of here, get somewhere safe. When she stepped onto the front porch she paused.

"Where am I?" She muttered the words to herself before fleeing out of the house and into the closest patch of trees.

November 13th - 16th | Forest

Surviving; that was what Wanda had to do. She moved through the forest, tracing her way back to town in order to swipe things from a few of the houses and inn. She could be found hunting or searching for a place to sleep in one of the broken or abandoned houses. There were flashes of memories now but they were fleeting, like sand shifting and falling through her fingers. Her memories had no context and it was starting to drive her crazy.

"I am an Avenger!" She shouted at the tree before punching it hard with her fist. Then the memory slipped away and Wanda felt a new kind of panic rise through her.

"Pietro? Where are you?" Her voice shook. There were hazy imagines. Her brother was shot, he needs her help, but then those images would be forgotten.

Her brother would never leave her side. Not like this. Where was he?

November 22nd | Inn Roof

Wanda didn't know what was going on anymore. She knew that she wasn't in Sokovia, despite the cold weather, but she couldn't remember anything else. Had Hydra done this?

A list of unanswered questions filtered through her head as she sat on the roof of the inn. She liked listening to the people bustling around below her, it made her feel a little less alone. Her memories were hazy and unclear and if she focused on something for too long it would be even harder to recall. She wanted to scream and yell but she didn't even know who to blame.

She popped the lid to the whiskey bottle she had stolen and drank. It wouldn't help but maybe for a few hours she'd be numb to the pain that was welling inside of her. It took a lot for Wanda to get drunk but she knew that this bottle would do it. She would also be sleeping on the roof for the night, nestled in the snow that had been left after the storm.

Wild Card

[ooc: If you want to interact with Wanda while she's experiencing any of the past events in 6i, you are welcome too. She's been around for awhile and can get stuck in remembering that something is happening when it isn't. These memories would happen before the 10th but I'm totally open to it.
Her tread tracker has the posts for those events if it interests you and you'd like ideas.

You are also welcome to tag at any point in the prompts.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Natasha sits back on her heels and fans the cold but dry wood above the glowing embers until they begin to smoulder, catch, give off some heat. Someone might see the smoke, but it's late and dark enough, she doubts it. Better than freezing, anyway. Most things are.

There's one candle in a small glass jar offering her its tiny little puddle of light, but the glowing beginnings of the fire make it redundant, and she blows it out. Natasha doesn't particularly want to waste it, and the woman whose life she's slipped on like a second skin would view the waste as an absolute sin. She looks back at her companion, screwing the lid on the jar and setting it aside so she can tuck it back into her bag once the melted wax has set.

Now she's wondering if Wanda will make room for her in the blanket cocoon, but she's not going to push. "There. That should warm the room up soon. I think it's dark enough outside for it to be safe. I've spent enough of my life freezing for lack of fuel already. I'm done with that." Her Sokovian is native speaker levels of perfect, and the accent is damn close. She's never needed it for a cover before, and this is almost entirely from time spent with Wanda overlapping with a natural skill honed to an art form, the ability to create entire lives within her own mind.

Wanda felt relieved to have run into Natasha. She didn't trust the woman completely but she trusted her more than the strangers in the village and those who have claimed to know her. Everything felt wrong and it made Wanda want to cling to something familiar.

"Thank you." She spoke softly, her accent thicker than usual.

Her thin frame shifted as Wanda moved a little closer to the fire. She watched Natasha, seeing nothing wrong with conserving their resources. Who knew how long the winter would be.

"Here." She shifted and offered a bit of the blanket to the other woman. Body heat will be the easiest way to warm up and Wanda wanted them both to survive.

Natasha scooted her way underneath the blanket, pulling the flap around herself and trapping the body heat between them. The room would warm up enough to sleep relatively quickly. Wanda didn't seem completely at ease, but she didn't have to be. Natasha could work with this. She was comfortable enough to allow the older woman to stay with her. Clint's stories of the deaths in this town were still as fresh as the day he'd shared them, about the girl who'd been ripped apart. The threats were very real, the monsters weren't in their minds, and Natasha didn't think Clint would recover if Wanda became a casualty because she didn't remember them.

A fellow survivor of her war torn home, though? It was at least common ground. "Thank you." Natasha repeated, her own Sokovian accent thick and almost but not quite familiar on her tongue, but her confidence in her own mastery of the foreign language was rock solid. Then, to further parrot, she pulled a couple of strips of tough dried meat from the side pouch of her backpack, and held them both out to Wanda. "Here. You choose which one you want, and I will eat first." Not a hint of being offended at not being fully trusted. Living your life in the midst of political unrest in a war zone, trust was a hard won thing. What they had here was more a mutually beneficial situation. They could help keep one another alive.

The blanket wasn't thick but it was wool, dense and warm. It kept the heat in and offered a wall of resistance against the chilly winter air. Wanda didn't realize the dangers of the village. She had always been on her own and had always lived in a colder climax. It felt normal, as if these facts alone allowed this world to fall perfectly into place.

Her head dipped in a silent nod at Natasha's thanks. The blanket was warmer with two people and it would fight off the harsh bite of frost on their fingers and toes.

Bright green eyes took in the meat that Natasha had offered. Wanda understood and took one of the two pieces. She waited for Natasha to eat a few bites before finally taking a bit of her own. It wouldn't help Natasha very much to kill her. Wanda had little to offer outside of a blanket and some body heat but it was important to be careful.

"Thank you." She spoke in a soft voice after she had eaten, her fingers brushing against her knee. "We should find another place in the morning."

008 Who are you? [OPEN]

/waves hands vaguely at a later date on the calendar

Woot!

no subject

no subject