actualwizard | Open Post.

[when wanda acquired the darkhold from agatha, her intent was to study it, learn about her powers, and control them better. after westview, she owed those she had hurt to be better. promises are easy to make when one has company, when one can be made accountable for their actions, however; wanda, in her self-imposed exile, finds herself eaten away by grief, sorrow, and loneliness. the book's pages show her spells, conjurations and hexes that could very well bring her to be again with her sons—with vision—with pietro—with her parents—

but it's hard to pick up the pieces when they turn to ash the moment they're touched. for wanda dreams, and in these dreams sees lives of herself where she is happy, where she has what she wants, but she wakes up every morning to the cold loneliness of the cabin she's made for herself.

her losses have cut deep, and there is no going back.

wanda seals the darkhold away with her magic and hexes the door of her now dilapidated—soon-to-be abandoned—cabin to lead into a new home for her. it opens into an empty house in the outskirts of the city, in the states, and scarlet swathes over the borough she's chosen as her new home, careful not to encroach any sanctums. here, no one will recognize her as an avenger; here, no one will recognize her sokovian accent nor think her name familiar; here, she is invisible, another susan, another joan, another kirsten. a quiet, solitary young woman who walks the roads and travels to the city's market in a small truck, with wooden crates of delicious apples to sell. sometimes, there are berries, even jarred honey at her stand, where she sits on a stool and waits for the end of the day, few words spoken, only seeming to smile when children drop by.

though hexed to not recognize her, wanda's magic does not taint the mind of others; they do not feel her pain, they are not trapped into her little fantasy world. instead they'll forget her, and the following weekend, at the farmers' market, they'll see her again, and think she is a newcomer.

it's been months now since she's started this routine of waking up early on a sunday, driving to the city, and setting up her stand. every night she dreams and dreams and dreams—and she is drawn no closer to comfort, as she wakes up more and more frequently with a start, finding herself swelling with emotion, her grief caught at her throat, her heart thundering with yearning.

she cannot magically make herself energetic. and so, as she starts unloading the crates of apples from her small truck, she loses her grip and several go tumbling down the road.]

Shoot.

[halfway with a crate against her thigh, wanda pushes it back onto the truck, pushes her hair behind her ears, and starts collecting the escaped apples.]

Edited 2022-07-02 17:46 (UTC)

[ America's powers had been on the fritz. Billy isn't sure why, he knows better than to actually ask America- unless he wants to get punched. America has a real good right hook. She will offer up the information if she wants to and Billy is okay with that. So when she calls asking for his assistance he doesn't ask a lot of questions. Teddy sends him off with a kiss and a "please don't do anything stupid", and Billy knows that's a promise he can't actually keep. Which is how he finds himself in a different New York, sans his portal-creating friend, and wishing he had actually been needed at Teddy's diplomatic meeting. Then he would have had an excuse to tell America no.

He could probably get himself home if he tried, being the Demiurge is not without its perks, but that's magic he doesn't like to tap into- not when he still isn't sure he can control it. So he stays put, America will find him eventually- or else face the wrath of his husband. It's been a few days and he's kept a low profile, he doesn't really want to run into the him of this world, if there is a him at least, nor does he want to run into anyone who might know him. Only...

He feels very familiar magic in the air today, and Billy is like a moth to a flame when it comes to his mother. So when an apple rolls into the side of his foot he leans down and picks it up, looking around and spotting her across the street. She's younger here, sadder almost. He can feel her magic try to settle on him as he crosses the street to her but it just bounces off his own- like recognizes like. ]

I think you dropped this.

[honestly, were it not for the young man nearby, wanda would have used her magic to cluster the apples back to her again. as it were, she's distractedly collecting them into one arm, rising to her full height in time to see that said young man has approached her—apple in hand.

she pauses, tilting her head minutely as her eyes narrow just a bit, meeting his eyes. there is... something about him.

it's probably in her head, though. wanda smiles lightly and drops her gaze, taking the apple, a bemused but confused sound to her voice, as if uncertain.]

Thanks.

[she picks up her gaze again to look at him for a moment longer before she's returning towards her truck, setting the apples back into their crate. she tries to continue as normal, trusting that her magic will soon warp his mind and have him turn around and forget their interaction, and pull the crate towards her to put on the stand. however, wanda is struck by the fact that he continues to hang around.

—usually, sometimes, her magic will falter (it depends on her mood, honestly), and someone will come up to her and ask if they've met before. wanda recognizes every face she's met here in the city market. she's not the one usually breaking away from the script.]

Have we met before? You seem... familiar.

[she looks back at the young man, her brows furrowed.]

Edited 2022-07-03 18:13 (UTC)

[ He shakes his head as he watches her. ]

No, we haven't met before. [It's not a lie, he hasn't met this version of her before. If she doesn't recognize him it tells him a lot, and he isn't sure how much she knows about the multiverse. She has magic in this world at least, so it's less likely she would think him insane.

He can feel her magic trying to warp him and he lets his push back against hers hoping that might clue her in. ]

Do you need any help with that? [ He gestures to her truck and her crates. ]

[billy would be right to assume that she wouldn't think him insane if he were to start talking about the multiverse. the darkhold, locked away as it is in her new home, whispers to her continually about it; she understands that the dreams she has are of her other lives in other worlds, running just about parallel to her own—all happy, while her own caves with the weight of loss and sorrow.

and so, when his magic pushes back against hers, she pauses and looks at him in scrutiny, as if trying to figure out what this is. how and why someone who wields magic would have come for her and, perhaps more alarmingly, why it feels so familiar.]

I — can usually manage on my own. [looking back down at the crate that she now holds on her hands, she lifts it up with a small heaving exhale, and turns to the young man. offering it to him.] Why are you here?

[it's not to help her with setting up her wares, is it?]

Edited 2022-07-05 12:27 (UTC)

[ Billy takes the crate easily, balancing it against his hip. ]

I'm a little lost, so I'm just waiting for my friend to find me. Which might take some time.

[ He cocks his head to the side looking at her curiously. ] Why are you here? [it's not every day that the Scarlet Witch sells fruit at a farmer's market, especially when she has powers. ]

Don't kids your age have phones with all sorts of useful apps?

[his story is shaky at best, but wanda is willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. who is she to question someone when her own story has a lot of holes in it. but—that's the thing; there shouldn't be anyone coming here to question her about anything.

much less why she, specifically, is here. the tone of the question is a little too specific.]

I sell apples at the market. [she gestures at the crates.] I have an orchard nearby.

[this, also, is the very first real conversation she has had with someone else in a very long time. wanda wonders, in part, if she should be concerned about the magic police—whoever they may be (sorcerers of kamar-taj?) for setting up shop here.

okay, time to stop playing ignorant of what's happening here.]

—are you with Stephen Strange?

[ Kid? He bristles a little at that. He’s 22 and this version of his mother doesn’t look much older. He makes a face at that. ]

My phone doesn’t seem to want to work in this reality.

[ She mentioned Stephen so he’s hoping that doesn’t sound strange. ]

Nah, the Sorcerer Supreme and I don’t usually run in the same circles. Although we have worked together in the past.

[ He pauses, weighing some options but decides to just dive in, what’s the worst that can happen?

…he knows the worst that can happen- reality can warp. ]

My name’s Billy.

[reality could warp, but this wanda is unlike the one billy knows. she will not spontaneously combust into a moment of delusion and suffocating grief. this wanda, she lives with her grief, enough to know when to inhale and hold her breath just long enough to let the name he gives her to land somewhere safely.

it's a common name, and it could be so many things. a sorcerer making a mockery of her (he says he knows the sorcerer supreme—wouldn't that be wong?), or just that: a young man named billy.

she exhales, and shakes her head lightly, turning back to her truck and letting her hands rest on another crate. she doesn't move, her hair a curtain as her head tips slightly. (it would be cruel, wouldn't it? and her heart aches and yearns, her hands tight on the wood frame of the crate. she recognizes his magic.)

raising her head, wanda does not meet his eyes.]

I just want to be left alone. I'm not hurting anyone here.

Edited 2022-07-06 23:19 (UTC)

[ good job, Kaplan. He hadn't meant to upset her. As his husband reminds him sometimes he doesn't think things through and how they might affect other people. He's been working on it.

He frowns, placing the crate he's holding back in the bed of the truck and tentatively reaching out to rest a hand on her arm. ]

I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't mean to imply that you are or anything.

[billy's idea of tentatively reaching out to her is a lucky take; wanda senses that hesitation, rid of all solid conviction to intervene. she still acts like a scared, caged animal, pulling away from his touch. all she sees in her head are images of her sons—of her boy, billy, his toothy smile and the way his eyes would crinkle in barely contained happiness. she senses it, her magic, in this young man's touch.]

Then what are you doing here?

[he has already explained, but wanda, in her grief, can't imagine that this is something that will hurt her irreparably again.

she's come to terms with it, with not being able to have anything in this reality. not love, not her boys, not her dead loved ones; while every other wanda in every other universe gets a chance at such happy ending, she's seen that she, here, doesn't.

and she connects the dots. this billy, it's one of 'her' sons, but not this wanda's—] It's not like you can stay. [she snaps at him; she understands now whom he speaks of, this 'friend', this girl that hops the multiverse. she's seen her, singular as she is. wanda feels like she's out of breath.] Drop in, say hello, then leave forever? Is that what you are here for?

Edited 2022-07-08 12:28 (UTC)

[well...this is not going at all as he had hoped. Even if he isn't exactly sure what he was hoping for. He did not think this through. ]

I'm not here to hurt you, or stop you or anything. I'm not even here on purpose. I didn't know you were here before we got here and now I'm sort of stranded for a little while. I didn't-

[ didn't mean to hurt her. How many people in his life has he not meant to hurt? How many more will he hurt by not thinking? ]

I'll go. I'm sorry for- well all this.

[maybe there is something to be said about those who are part of the maximoff family, whether it is through birth or some resonance of magic and reincarnation: they feel too much, and end up saying and doing things that hurt others just because they acted first.

a quiet lump of panic makes her heart skip when this young man, billy, offers to go and apologizes. her own grief keeps her from wanting to hurt again, and the idea alone that this could be her son from some alternate universe sits with her as an unfair, cruel taunt. isn't this what she's wanted for so long, though?

because—in the end—he is stranded here, and doesn't it say a lot about this whole situation that he's come to his mother (or another version of her)?]

—wait.

[her voice is small, a strained plea, as she raises her head to look at him. wanda is hesitant, her hands in front of her, fingers threading into each other.]

I've lost you before. [a version of you] I'm— just afraid. I know it's not fair to you, but...

Edited 2022-07-12 13:33 (UTC)

[ His heart drops at that. He had a feeling that she had lost a version of him from her reaction, but hearing her say it makes it worse. Is it their curse to always lose each other? ]

I'm sorry, it's also not fair to you for me to just show up. I didn't mean to make anything harder, but I felt your magic and well...you're mom. Even if I'm not really him.

[you're mom, he says with such a sense of certainty, with such love and care—it makes her heart ache. wanda studies his face carefully before reaching out with a hand to cup his cheek. though she is nervous, there is familiarity in this relative strangers' face; it's the way their magic recognizes like, and one could not fake the certainty of calling someone their mother, even if it's another version entirely.

with a soft rub of her thumb over his cheek, wanda makes up her mind. he came to her, because he's stranded, and because family is forever.]

Billy.

[she's missed him terribly, and she can sense it, that this young man is, somehow, her son. her hand drops to his shoulder, trails down his arm, elbow, wrist, and settles to hold his hand.

with her hex in place, she can literally do whatever she wants. so skipping the market one week won't hurt her.]

Would you like... to come home with me? Until your friend finds you. Even if it's a little selfish, I'd like to spend some time with you.

[ he smiles at her. It's been a while since he had seen either of his mothers and the gesture to cup his cheek is something they have both done. there is a good ache in his chest as he looks at this version of his mom. he makes a mental note when he gets back to his world that he really needs to call home. ]

I would love to.

[maybe it could be just as easy as accepting this for what it is, not asking too many questions and not trying to understand where this puts her within the grand scheme of things.

pulling her hand back, wanda smiles at the young man.

(it could be just that easy.)]

Come on, then.

[with a raise of her hand and an easy twirl of her fingers, the truck is all packed up and ready to go, wanda walking around it to get in the driver's seat to drive home. she waits for billy to join her before she stops containing herself from the myriad of questions she has for him.

she'll start simple(/s):]

You have to tell me everything about your life.

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