Wanda Maximoff (daddysredwitch) wrote in oh_marvelous, @ 2010-04-22 14:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | z: om1: !complete, z: om1: character: tony stark, z: om1: character: wanda maximoff, z: om1: location: avengers tower, z: om1: location: new york |
I won't suffer, be broken, get tired, or wasted.
Characters: Wanda, NPC New Yorkers, Tony
Setting: An alley way in NYC then Tony's office, evening
Content: Nothing bad?
Summary: Wanda's power returns, momentarily
The twilight air of a relatively tranquil city street was shattered by a sudden terrified and feminine scream. On the sidewalk, outside apartment buildings and shops, several people stopped and looked around for a moment before shrugging and continuing on their way. It was none of their business and if something bad was going on, well, wasn't that what all these superheroes were for? One person did not shrug or continue on her way. This person used to be one of those superheroes and a scream like that, fearful and defenseless, wasn't something she could just ignore. Wanda took a tentative step towards the alleyway from which she thought the scream had issued. A second shout confirmed her suspicion and she moved forward a jog. What she hoped to actually achieve, Wanda wasn't sure, but maybe the appearance of an interloper would quell whatever mischief was in the making. If someone was hurt, at least she could offer help, and that was more than anyone else seemed willing to do.
Wanda entered the alley to find a woman, back to a brick wall, clutching a purse against her chest with a terrified expression. A man stood in front of her, a gun pointed at her forehead. "Bitch, just give me the goddamn bag!" he growled and Wanda called out, "Hey-" The man turned, his eyes narrowing in a glare. For a moment it seemed he would run, but apparently he was truly desperate or desperately foolish. "Big mistake, lady," he snapped and in a moment he'd crossed the space between them and raised his gun, striking Wanda across the jaw with the handle as, with his free hand, he wrenched her own bag from her shoulder. Wanda let him take it, stumbling back a step and touching her face gingerly in surprise. The man returned his attention to the first woman and shoved her back to the wall when she moved to escape. Again he demanded her purse, this time trying to grab for it, and when she resisted he cocked the pistol in his hand. Without a second thought Wanda lunged between them, just as the mugger's finger twitched on the trigger.
Perhaps it was habit or instinct or just sheer stupidity because she knew it wouldn't work but still Wanda raised her hands, reaching for even the tiniest thread of her ability. Something. Anything. What she got was an explosion of warmth and fire in her chest. A conflagration of strength and energy rampaged through her, up her arms, into her fingertips which erupted in a blinding light. This was a level of energy she'd rarely felt, only wielded in the direst of circumstances. The bullet from the gun struck a solid barrier of reddish energy and when she pointed at it, the gun itself melted into a puddle of liquid metal on the asphalt. There was a stunned silence in the alleyway as the attacker and his victim both stared at Wanda and she gazed back and forth from her fingertips to the molten firearm on the ground.
The man took a step back, watching Wanda's dimming fingers for a moment before he fled, throwing both of the stolen purses to the ground. Wanda stared, awed, at her hands and though she tried again and again to summon it, it seemed that the flame of her ability was spent. She was dead inside where her power ought to be. Empty, nothing, normal and helpless once more. She had the presence of mind to turn to the shaken woman behind her and ask if she was all right. The only answer Wanda received was a mute nod as the woman eyed her uncertainly and stooped to pick up their bags. She handed Wanda hers and muttered thanks before rushed out of the alley leaving Wanda to stand, bewildered and inwardly reeling.
The heat of energy still washed over her but the fire was gone, quenched as suddenly as it had begun. Still, that hadn't been a mistake, it hadn't been out of her control, Wanda had wanted it and there it was. She'd needed a shield and got a shield, she needed to destroy the mugger's weapon and had. The Scarlet Witch stepped forward to be a hero without the means to help and miraculously she did not fail. But now Wanda was empty again, as blank and powerless within as she'd been for weeks now. It made no sense. It scared her.
Confused and afraid and riding the adrenaline high wrought by the emergency and the energy flare, Wanda hailed a cab and mumbled an address and spent the entirety of the ride with her face buried in her hands and her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. The quiet words and concerned looks of the cab driver had no affect, she never spoke, and when he pulled up to the curb she put a bill into his hand and did not wait for change. She needed to tell someone, to talk to someone, she needed help. Up the sidewalk, wandering dazed through a lobby, into an elevator where she pressed her forehead to the wall and took shallow breaths.
Wanda was overtaken with an exhaustion of the kind she only felt after a particularly harrowing drain of her power. Her face felt flushed and her jaw ached where she'd been hit, but her hands were clammy and shaking. She was also paralyzed by a strange fear as realizations dawned over her shock-numbed mind- she'd nearly taken a bullet for a stranger. She could have died. Right there in a dark alley and no one would have known because she was alone. Because she was stupid and thought she could manage without help. But she couldn't do it anymore, not alone. Couldn't pretend that she was fine, that everything would be fine. It wouldn't. The thought brought stinging tears to her eyes, blurred her vision and her breath became more ragged. But, she had to remind herself, she wasn't dead and that was because of her ability. God what power. It had raged and roared through her and it was beautiful and terrible and horrifying and it made her giddy. Wanda felt a laugh bubble, unbidden, to her lips and she was distantly glad that no one else was in the elevator because surely it looked as if she were having some kind of nervous breakdown.
She scrubbed at her eyes with her fingers and tried to compose herself. It was only as the elevator ended its ascent that the thought struck her that she shouldn't be here, had no right to come to him for help. He didn't want to see her, that was clear enough. Yet, almost unconsciously, she'd come here to see him because Wanda needed him and he was the only one left who understood. It was too late to turn back as the elevator doors slid opened and she lurched forward and didn't even stop to ask if he was in. Somehow she just knew, she felt lucky. She threw open the door to his office and slammed it behind her on the sound of someone yelling You can't go in there!.
Wanda's wild gaze swept the room and she was relieved to find that he was alone. She pressed her back against the door and gripped the frame, knees weak and head dizzy. When she spoke it was a single word, his name, in a breathless groan, "Tony."