Wanda Maximoff (daddysredwitch) wrote in oh_marvelous, @ 2015-07-16 03:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | z: om1: !afterearth, z: om1: !complete, z: om1: character: jessica drew, z: om1: character: wanda maximoff, z: om1: character: wicked, z: om1: location: dyson sphere |
And it's my whole heart-
Characters: Wanda, Wicked
Setting: A garden on the Sphere
Content: Teeny bit of gross, nothing else questionable
Summary: Wanda needs Wicked's soul expertise
As Wanda's strange apathy worsened, she'd found it difficult to be around people, harder to care. The grief she ought to feel for her predicament, her missing brother, the fate of the world, none of it seemed to matter. Pretending she was anything but empty was exhausting. The people she cared about deserved better than that, so she isolated herself rather than face them, until Daimon reappeared in her life. With that small sliver of her soul intact and his promise to find the rest of it, Wanda was sure things would be better now. She was wrong.
Ever since he'd gone, something was off, worse than before. Her thoughts and feelings, far from indifferent, were dark and horrible. Terrifying. Wanda never felt alone, inside her head or out. She heard whispering, saw shadows out of the corner of her eye in empty rooms, woke to strangling screams and horrible laughter in her nightmares. The twisted thoughts populating her brain weren't all her own, couldn't be. Something else was living inside her skin, pulling her mind to pieces. She endured this in silence, afraid to admit it to herself or anyone else, unwilling to accept what she'd begun to suspect.
Then the blackouts started. Minutes, hours, were lost to her. Sometimes she'd regain consciousness in a strange place, with no memory of where she'd been or what she'd done. When she came to it was always with the certainty, but no proof, that she'd done something horrible. She finally got her proof when she blacked out one night only to wake kneeling near a shop, in the middle of tearing apart a small animal with her teeth, its blood filling her mouth and viscera caught in her throat. The corpse was unrecognizable, it was probably someone's pet. Retching and sobbing she returned home and locked herself up and decided this was enough. She couldn't wait for Daimon, she couldn't pretend nothing was happening to her. A doctor couldn't help, this was something spiritual. Wanda could think of only one person who might be able to tell her what she needed to know.
Since the babies' birth and even after Katya's kidnapping, Wanda had not seen Wicked often, preferring the detachment of video calling her sister-in-law and seeing the children from a distance. Visits were rare. That was safer for everyone. Even now, she dreaded the thought of putting her family in danger, but she had nowhere else to turn. Wanda arranged to meet Wicked in a garden near her quarters and, after trying to make herself look and feel normal (and failing at both), she went to ask the question she didn't want answered.