Wanda Maximoff (daddysredwitch) wrote in oh_marvelous, @ 2010-05-05 06:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | z: om1: !complete, z: om1: character: wanda maximoff, z: om1: location: new york, z: om1: location: school of thunder, z: om1: past character: danny rand |
The world is everlasting.
Characters: Wanda, Danny
Setting: School of Thunder martial arts academy, mid-morning
Content: Nothing questionable
Summary: Wanda goes to a professional for help with focus
The School of Thunder looked so much different than it had that night nearly a week before and Wanda was rather taken aback as she stepped into it's hushed sun dappled entry way. No hum of voices or tinkling of glasses, no gentleman in tuxedos or glittering socialites in designer gowns. It was exactly what it was meant to be; a school, quiet and peaceful. She was sure it was probably louder when classes were in session, especially with children, but for now it was serene and apparently empty. Her heels clicked on the wooden floorboards as she moved slowly through the hall, pausing to examine the art work on the walls that she hadn't had a chance to appreciate during the gala. This was a nice place, tranquil, and she supposed that boded well given her purpose in coming here. Dr. MacTaggert had suggested she try meditation for focus and the idea to come here had occurred to her after she'd met the school's proprietor. She'd toyed with it for the past week, did some research, and concluded that someone like Danny Rand would at least be able to put her on the right track with the whole focus thing. Failing that, she supposed, she could always take up yoga.
There were, of course, plenty of other martial arts schools in New York she could go to, but Wanda was admittedly intrigued by Mr. Rand, the "Iron Fist." He'd seemed so charming at his party and completely unlike what one would imagine a scion of a mystic Eastern city to be. What had he called himself? A pseudo-draconic, mystical man-child. It made her smile to remember it and Wanda shook her head, amused, as she reached up to idly trace a flower in one of the paintings with a fingertip. Yes, it certainly couldn't hurt to ask for his advice and if he had nothing to offer by way of help she hoped, at least, that she wouldn't regret his company.