Wanda Maximoff (daddysredwitch) wrote in oh_marvelous, @ 2010-01-07 11:26:00 |
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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 |
Watch them built up a meteor tower.
Characters: Wanda, Tony
Setting: Wanda's new room, the Avengers Tower
Content: Idk. Cuddles.
Summary: Wanda and Tony have some things to discuss.
Home. So, this was it. Wanda's new home; a lavish room in the Avengers tower. It didn't exactly feel like home yet, but it was starting to look it. The furniture was ornate and breathtaking; a king birch hardwood four poster bed with scrolled pilasters and a matching dresser, vanity table, armoire and night tables. There was even an intricate Edwardian daybed in a corner to serve as a sofa. Of course none of it was actually vintage, she'd done enough shopping for true antiques to know, but the makers had done fantastic work reproducing it. If Tony was good to her, that Waterhouse hanging on a wall wasn't a reproduction. She'd have to remember to ask.
The top halves of the walls themselves were papered in alternating cream and dark crimson stripes, cut in the middle by a wooden scrolled chair rail and paneled below with the same cherry wood that covered the floor. A large throw rug tied in with the multi-tonal scarlet comforter on the bed and the high backed chairs scattered about the the room were upholstered in the same red toile pattern that covered the windows. Truly, Wanda couldn't have designed it better herself. Now the space just required little personal finishing touches. Her clothes in the dresser drawers and hung up in the armoire, her keepsakes and knickknacks and photographs placed just so on available surfaces, her jewelery box on the vanity table.
Wanda stood, back to the open door, and surveyed her work. It looked like hers, with only a few things glaringly out of place. Her reflection in the mirror was one; she was blonde today, the first step to the disguise Fury required of her. She kind of liked it. Another was a lone suitcase still open on the floor where she was tossing clothes for her "errand" for Nick. She'd be leaving this new room tomorrow. As remnants of her ordeal, the teddy bear that Tommy brought her in the hospital rested in a chair, and there on the nightstand a full bottle of prescription pills, taunting her with their very presence.
On Sunday night she'd woken up screaming and a team of bewildered nurses had to calm her until a doctor shot her up with sedatives. When they released her Monday afternoon, there was nothing physically wrong after all, she'd been given the pill bottle and a written prescription and told to take two every night. She hadn't. "Sleep aids" the doctor called them, "sedatives." More like tranquilizers. Wanda feared anything that would make her feel less alive, make her lose control. She would rather lose sleep the rest of her life than ever feel powerless.
Consequently, for the last few nights she'd woken Pietro with her nightmares. It wasn't like when they were children, no kind words or comforting touch could ease her mind now. But here she was, with her own space again, and maybe she could learn to handle the nightmares on her own so she wouldn't have to trouble her brother anymore. She was a big girl, after all, and she had to take care of herself. If nothing else, her little ordeal with Sinister taught her that much.