Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scepterschild) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-05-05 02:38 pm
scepterschild) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-05-05 02:38 pm
004 Unhappy changes [OPEN]
WHO: Wanda Maximoff
WHERE: Home/Inn/Woods
WHEN: May 1st - 8th
OPEN TO: EVERYONE
WARNINGS: None yet
STATUS: OPEN
It wasn’t unusual for Wanda to be woken by her nightmares. They came more readily here than they had at home, playing over every loss and uncertainty like a Scooby Doo rerun on TV. Lately her dreams have been about her brother and more often than not she’d find herself jolting awake by slinging a ball of red sparks across the room. This morning brought no damage to her surroundings. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest while sweat matted her long dark hair to her neck and shoulders.
She was quick to get dressed, pulling on her jeans and the white tank top that she’d been given on her arrival. The house was warm though she could feel the morning chill creeping like thin tendrils through the air. With a heavy sign Wanda kicked open the door to her room and headed down stairs to see how much of the night’s fire was still burning in the hearth. Her fingers laced through her hair pulling the brown silky strands back from her face. When she reached the living room Wanda extended her fingertips out towards the far side of the room, willing her powers to move a log onto the fire.
Nothing happened.
She called for her abilities again but nothing happened. "Move." She kept her hand pointed towards the far side of the room, her voice harsh as she glared at the stack of logs. "MOVE!" Wanda shouted as she quickly stepped towards the small stack of logs, kicking the one she’d been commanding halfway across the room. The log thumped loudly against the floor. She wanted to scream at the piece of wood but what little self-control she had stopped her.
Eventually Wanda left her house. Tension was set in her shoulders as she walked straight for the forests edge. She didn’t want to believe that her powers were gone, that there was now nothing she could do. She was helpless, defenseless. She couldn’t protect anyone.
She’d had her powers for so long; she didn’t know how to handle them being gone.
When she reached the trees she shouted, listening to her pained cry carry over the canopy. She kicked at the trees around her, her boots stopping with every solid object that she’d come into contact with. Rage, pain, fear, frustration and hate mingled in her chest as she lashed out at everything around her. She threw a fist into the tree, feeling the rough texture of the bark scrape and bruise her knuckles. Again and again she hit the trunk of the tree, wishing she could push all of her feelings away.
When she returned her town her knuckles were bloody and brushed, her hair matted to her neck where a thin layer of sweat covered her skin. She looked tired and worn out, having managed to release the bulk her frustration in the woods.
Wanda could be found in many places throughout the village. She was determined to prove that being without her powers didn’t change anything. She knew it did but it was the only way she could fight the frustration that knotted and grew uncomfortably in her chest.
Early in the morning Wanda would split wood for her home, occasionally kicking a piece of timber that wouldn’t split properly. She helped Kate preserve the meat at the inn; this never required the use of her abilities and was now one of Wanda’s favorite tasks. While every other after noon she could be found cooking at the inn, using the few spices that she knew and testing the ones she didn’t. Wanda wasn’t sure when the last time she ate was. She remembered making food but not eating it.
In the evenings Wanda dreaded to return home. It was when she was trying to sleep, alone in her room that she’d lose herself to her thoughts and her doubt. It was stupid. She knew that but so many things were changing and there was nothing she could do to stop it. A distraction, all she needed was a distraction.
She could usually be found sitting at a random table in the common area. There was a button on the table in front of her; sometimes she’d spin it on its side with her finger while other times she’d just stare at it, expecting something to happen. Towards the beginning of the month she’d search for any abandoned liquor from the feast, welcoming the dizzying sensation that it brought with it.
WHERE: Home/Inn/Woods
WHEN: May 1st - 8th
OPEN TO: EVERYONE
WARNINGS: None yet
STATUS: OPEN
Home - May 1st – Early Morning
It wasn’t unusual for Wanda to be woken by her nightmares. They came more readily here than they had at home, playing over every loss and uncertainty like a Scooby Doo rerun on TV. Lately her dreams have been about her brother and more often than not she’d find herself jolting awake by slinging a ball of red sparks across the room. This morning brought no damage to her surroundings. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest while sweat matted her long dark hair to her neck and shoulders.
She was quick to get dressed, pulling on her jeans and the white tank top that she’d been given on her arrival. The house was warm though she could feel the morning chill creeping like thin tendrils through the air. With a heavy sign Wanda kicked open the door to her room and headed down stairs to see how much of the night’s fire was still burning in the hearth. Her fingers laced through her hair pulling the brown silky strands back from her face. When she reached the living room Wanda extended her fingertips out towards the far side of the room, willing her powers to move a log onto the fire.
Nothing happened.
She called for her abilities again but nothing happened. "Move." She kept her hand pointed towards the far side of the room, her voice harsh as she glared at the stack of logs. "MOVE!" Wanda shouted as she quickly stepped towards the small stack of logs, kicking the one she’d been commanding halfway across the room. The log thumped loudly against the floor. She wanted to scream at the piece of wood but what little self-control she had stopped her.
Woods/Around - May 1st - All Day
Eventually Wanda left her house. Tension was set in her shoulders as she walked straight for the forests edge. She didn’t want to believe that her powers were gone, that there was now nothing she could do. She was helpless, defenseless. She couldn’t protect anyone.
She’d had her powers for so long; she didn’t know how to handle them being gone.
When she reached the trees she shouted, listening to her pained cry carry over the canopy. She kicked at the trees around her, her boots stopping with every solid object that she’d come into contact with. Rage, pain, fear, frustration and hate mingled in her chest as she lashed out at everything around her. She threw a fist into the tree, feeling the rough texture of the bark scrape and bruise her knuckles. Again and again she hit the trunk of the tree, wishing she could push all of her feelings away.
When she returned her town her knuckles were bloody and brushed, her hair matted to her neck where a thin layer of sweat covered her skin. She looked tired and worn out, having managed to release the bulk her frustration in the woods.
Inn/Around - May 2nd - 8th - Brooding
Wanda could be found in many places throughout the village. She was determined to prove that being without her powers didn’t change anything. She knew it did but it was the only way she could fight the frustration that knotted and grew uncomfortably in her chest.
Early in the morning Wanda would split wood for her home, occasionally kicking a piece of timber that wouldn’t split properly. She helped Kate preserve the meat at the inn; this never required the use of her abilities and was now one of Wanda’s favorite tasks. While every other after noon she could be found cooking at the inn, using the few spices that she knew and testing the ones she didn’t. Wanda wasn’t sure when the last time she ate was. She remembered making food but not eating it.
In the evenings Wanda dreaded to return home. It was when she was trying to sleep, alone in her room that she’d lose herself to her thoughts and her doubt. It was stupid. She knew that but so many things were changing and there was nothing she could do to stop it. A distraction, all she needed was a distraction.
She could usually be found sitting at a random table in the common area. There was a button on the table in front of her; sometimes she’d spin it on its side with her finger while other times she’d just stare at it, expecting something to happen. Towards the beginning of the month she’d search for any abandoned liquor from the feast, welcoming the dizzying sensation that it brought with it.
May 3rd - afternoon
Her shoulders tense reflexively when she heard Beverly's voice and for a fraction of a second she paused. "Ukha" She replied as she cut thin sickly looking carrots and dropped them into her broth of potatoes and fish. Her eyes glanced back at Beverly before accompanying the reply with a shrug. "Or the closest I can make to it." She was missing a lot of spices but with fish and potatoes so readily available it was an easy thing to make.
"Do you want some?"
She tried to keep her voice even but it was obvious that Wanda was on edge. Her accent was always thicker when something was bothering her.
no subject
"Something from your home?" she asks kindly, figuring she can offer up the idea of her grandmother's soup if it comes to it. "If you're not making it for anyone specifically, I'd love to try it."
Something in Wanda seems different, more on edge. Beverly doesn't know Wanda nearly well enough to prod at that right off, so she hopes that maybe after they talk a little more Wanda might feel comfortable enough to brush at whatever is bothering her. And if not, Beverly won't press.
no subject
No more weakness.
"I grew up in a cold country. Soups and starches like dumplings were a specialty." Her mother had taught her to cook before she was killed. "There will be plenty." She wasn't even hungry. Wanda knew she should eat but the idea of eating turned her stomach uncomfortably.
no subject
In a lot of respects, Beverly knows she's very spoiled and lucky in comparison to a lot of people here. But she can't help wishing that she could help them somehow, wishing that their lives weren't as hard as they actually were, or that maybe something can help make things better now.
"What ingredients are usually in it?" Beverly asks curiously as she watches. "Do you need help chopping anything?"
no subject
"No. It just needs to simmer now." She looked up at Beverly and tried her best to relax. "Soup takes a lot of time compared to other dishes. Given that I can't keep the temperature ranges even I need to keep watch over it." It was only so it didn't burn, which was possible when working with an open flame.
"Carrots and fish are the main ingredients in this soup."
no subject
“You’re very good at this,” Beverly says warmly, nodding at the soup. The smell is already starting to get to her, making her hungrier than she was when she came in. “It reminds me a bit of the soup my grandmother used to make when I was growing up. Peas, carrots, potatoes, and a little bit of cooked ground beef. It was like a homemade hamburger soup and it was my favorite thing.”
Talking about that soup reminds her of Kesprytt and her journey with Jean-Luc, but she does her best to shove that down. There's no need to dwell too much on someone who isn't here.
no subject
"That's a good memory to have." Wanda commented softly. "I hope my soup lives up to it." She pulled off the lid and inhaled the savory scent that wafted from the thick potato soup.
"Almost done. Can you get us bowls?"
no subject
"I know your soup will be in a class all its own," she says gently, preferring not to compare between something new and something so entwined in her childhood. She has no doubts that this soup will be wonderful all on its own.
At the request, she moves to find bowls, grabbing two and bringing them over. "Anything else I can get for you?"
no subject
She then addressed her own bowl, staring at it.
Wanda had wanted to cook for the distraction. She didn't feel like eating. After a moment she looked up towards the main area of the inn, making it seem like she could look through the wall. "I should see if others are hungry." She didn't think she could eat.
no subject
"Wanda... I know we don't know each other very well yet, but if there's ever anything I can do for you, just let me know."
Some people have a harder time accepting help than others. She knows this well from her experiences on the Enterprise. But in each scenario, she knows she would be angry with herself for not offering, especially if it turned out that she could have done something to help.
no subject
"Thank you. There isn't anything anyone can do." Her voice was sad but honest. Wanda had spent a lot of time thinking about it and she had to get used to things if she wanted to keep fighting. She didn't want to let this beat her but she felt the loss keenly.
She filled a third bowl before nodding her head to Beverly and making her way out and into the main room to find two hungry people. Wanda would try to eat but later. There would be time.