ώάήȡά (scarlets) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-07-08 10:20:00 |
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Genosha’s beach was very green, the entirety not made up of perfect golden-hued sand - it was kind of a mix, actually, various species of wild grass which nestled alongside thistle and driftwood that was washed ashore; the expanse of sand and lapping waves eventually gave way to trees that thickened, and one could find a variety of fruits growing on the island if they toured it in its entirety. A lot of those trees were wild-looking things, draped in vines and moss, and scattered rocks gave the ground an uneven look. Erik kept up with Genosha’s maintenance regularly, taking care of the fruit trees and checking on the flow of electricity (granted, to only one building) and freshwater. It was easy enough for him to fly over from Vallo’s main island. When Wanda said she wanted to talk to him about something, he invited her to come with him during one of his maintenance trips. They kept busy on the island, watering the mango and papaya and coconut trees, along with gathering any weak branches to make way for the strong ones. Passionfruit was gathered as well, since when they were ripe they basically just fell off the vine - Erik had a basket he carried, plucking fruits to obtain the best ones that were ready to be made into a variety of things. Teas, jam, whatever dessert was deemed appropriate - he would save as much as Wanda wanted for herself. “You’re free to use anything from here for your baking competition,” he said, boots touching down after he’d been hovering to grab some errant branches caught in trees - flight, gliding on magnetic fields, was such a useful skill to have. “You entered one, didn’t you? Surely fresh summer fruit is the key to victory.” Maybe he was biased, but he’d definitely vote for her. Probably a little too warm out here for casual comfort, but Wanda didn’t mind - she had dressed coolly for the trip, in shorts and a shirt she rolled up the sleeves for. Mainland was bustling with noise, and the forest was saturated in the unknown. Genosha always seemed like a safe haven from all of that. Separate from Vallo when it lost its damn mind, quiet and scenic - she knew she wouldn’t mind the labor Erik would put her through for today’s trip either. It was always nice to do something else with her hands besides destroy and fight, anyway. “I did,” she confirmed, having her own basket (a dash of chaos magic had woven some of those errant branches into a nice, practical vessel) balanced against her hip - right below the arm. “Or - I will, when the official sign ups are posted. I have been practicing.” Mostly chocolate, and there had been a key lime pie the other day that turned out well. Wanda hadn’t ventured much into other fruits yet. “And that means I have been baking a lot so next time I will bring one for Anka Irene. It will be up to her to share.” Her hand rose, made a twisting motion and there they fell - a couple of mangos, levitating from the trees and into the basket. Their fruit-gathering expedition was going quite well. It was hot, however - considering Genosha stayed balmy despite any odd weather fluctuations on the mainland and the sunshine was often so intense it seemed to shimmer off the feathers of any birds flying overhead. But it felt nice, soothing actually, and seemed to make the greenery all that much brighter too - a glow to the foliage, and Erik was grateful that the island was here. Sometimes he wished he had the people, his fellow mutants, who made Genosha’s existence that much more potent and bustling - but we couldn’t have everything we wanted. A sad fact. “I’m sure Anka Irene will appreciate that,” he chuckled, shifting his basket under the opposite arm. “She’s not even picky about flavors - not when it comes to sweets, anyway.” But vegetables and other heartier options? Oh yes. A toddler’s palette was in full effect here - he remembered those days with Nina too, when she was particular about what she ate and would even have a meltdown because her milk was given to her in the wrong color cup. Children. Such a delight. And, well, speaking of the kids - he ought to help Wanda with whatever she needed, if it was indeed something he could do. “We can head to the house now?” he suggested, canting his chin in that direction. “I have plenty of juice and tea. Something refreshing.” And cold, he promised. “I think I could use something refreshing,” Wanda retorted with a chuckle, wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist. The physical activity had been nice - weirdly meditative, like she could put herself in this zen mode with the repetitive motion of fruit picking. Plus there was the sound of ocean waves lapping that added a nice natural soundtrack to it all. “And I suppose we can - talk?” Right, talk. Bringing this up felt nerve-wrecking but she didn’t know who else to turn to except Erik - he was the only one that she knew who’d been through something similar. He’d lost it all too once. Somehow, he found the strength to build himself back up and made a new life despite the uncertainties. Vallo made no promises on who it kept or brought back home. Existence here was fragile, but of course people went with the flow anyway and tried to flourish the best they could despite the risk. It wasn’t as if Wanda was unfamiliar with the concept. All of her decisions had been risky ones, though there was part of her that remained a little raw about it. She started the trek to the house by foot, kicking away at the sand. “How did you know that you were ready to try something again?” Wanda asked, swallowing nervously. “Relationship-wise.” It was a good place to start. Oh. Was this a talk about relationships? It seemed to be shaping up to be one, which - well, Erik was a little surprised. Not in a bad way. He simply didn’t picture having this talk with any of the kids, alternate universe versions or otherwise - for example, getting Peter to talk about going on a date or finding a date or looking for a date was like Erik brought up something revolting, the mating habits of a praying mantis (as just one example). But there was a part of him that felt warm - that ooey gooey chocolate chip cookie type of thing, knowing that Wanda wanted his opinion on this and wanted to have the discussion. The family home was built from the hull of a ship - a very large piece of scrap metal he’d pulled from the sea when he first began building up Genosha. It could only be described as rustic, with nary a door (there were gauzy curtains instead, billowing gently in the breeze) or a window - lots of light, however. Low hanging and up higher, candles and battery-powered lamps. Bright green aloe vera stalks peeked out of bowls, and there was a table and chairs and plenty of books stacked on shelves - a bunch of Anka Irene’s toys too. He and Rogue also got a bigger bed, which they’d put on the ‘top’ floor of the ship hull house - neither of them needed stairs to reach it, so that room provided more privacy and a better view of the island when they were here. He also had a solar-powered mini fridge, and inside was a small pitcher of a mango passion fruit cocktail - fresh juice, probably something that would go for 10 dollars a glass on the mainland. Here, he just poured he and Wanda cups. “It’s different for everyone,” he said. “When Magda died, I sort of retreated into a shell I built around myself.” A shell made of steel and iron bars, that’s all. Impenetrable. “When I was ready, I felt the grief lift a little - I wasn’t trying to replace her, but I recognized the value of sharing my life with someone. The need for it.” He passed Wanda a glass of juice, sitting at the table and cradling his own glass. “I...gave myself permission to be happy.” It was actually quite a lovely set up, Wanda thought - cozy, isolated from the mayhem, quiet. Back home she had fucked off into Sokovian mountains in some cottage she’d made for herself to study the Darkhold without interruption (like in the form of government agents hunting her down for being a dangerous person of interest), but the beachy backdrop of Genosha was nicer. Gave it a paradise kind of ambiance. The basket of fruit was propped onto the table, and she took a seat as Erik spoke. She let out a thankful hum when he offered her the juice - the coldness of the glass against her hands felt nice. The first sip she took was even better. “I don’t - well, I didn’t - have any intention of, um.” Wanda pressed her lips together as she mined her brain for the right words. Talking about this was more difficult than she thought - and perhaps it was because there was a seed of guilt, breaking from its case and taking root. “I didn’t think I’d want to? After what happened with Vision.” Everything about their relationship had been the definition of unconventional, maybe even doomed to end the way it did. Losing him had tipped her sanity right into delusion and a hint of madness, and she was still learning how to live her life around it. That was what happened with grief, anyway - you don’t outgrow it, you don’t lose it. You figure out how to live with it the best you can. “And I didn't intend for anything to actually - happen? But something did,” she breathed out deeply. “Something did happen, and I don’t want to ignore it. I also do not want to irreversibly mess it up by rushing into it.” Ah. So that’s why Wanda had brought up this issue - Erik’s next question was going to be along the lines of inquiring whether she found someone she considered moving on with, but it was answered. “I hadn’t been intending for the interest to crop up again again either,” he admitted, sipping from his glass. “It always felt as if we were stumbling from one disaster to the next - the Institute had been destroyed, lives were lost. We ended Apocalypse but it seemed to unleash so much more.” Charles telling Jean to let go, to use all her power to eradicate the threat - that was only the start. “I helped rebuild the school and turned my efforts toward establishing Genosha. There was no time for or thought of romance - and then, after even more hardship, I got here. I met Anna. We had Anka Irene, we had a history and - I couldn’t ignore it. I found that I didn’t even want to. I wanted what I had once before, or a version of me had and at first I felt wrong somehow. That I shouldn’t get to want these things but - in some ways, I think allowing yourself to love again is a way to honor your need to love and be loved. It’s not forgetting either - Anna would never ask me to forget about Magda, or stop loving her too, and I never will.” It wasn’t as if world-ending disasters happened here, not really. Back home was definitely another story, and the Wanda she existed as there was probably down a very questionable path still - during her self-imposed isolation, the only friend she let herself have was that book. Loss was still fresh. The time to process hadn’t passed for her like it did here. And here there was this strange sense of domesticity that she hadn’t expected to find. Things happened, yes, but life here was more about leisure than imminent danger. People found one another across worlds, took plunges and really went for it despite the odds. Wanda had taken gambles like that before, and had the emotional scorch masks as consequences to prove it - she’d been sure that she would be avoiding things like that for a while. Forever, maybe. It seemed like the smart thing to do. But life was funny with its curve balls sometimes. “Did you ever feel - guilty?” Wanda winced. God, that was such a terrible question to ask but if there was anyone she could be honest about a loss like this one, it was probably Erik. The glass of juice was rolled between her hands nervously. “I just thought that - something like this wouldn’t happen, and I know Vision. He would want me to be happy. To move on. Sometimes it is like I punish myself for what happened, for not being able to kill Thanos or for not fighting to get his body back from Hayward.” Now there was this new Vision, white like a ghost that came to haunt her from beyond the grave that was loose in the world - and she knew that even with his memories, he would never be the Vision she knew. A rattling breath was sucked in before continuing. “But this thing - this thing with Stephen, I’m afraid of ruining it because a part of me is still a mess.” Yes, finally, she name dropped in case it wasn’t obvious to who she was referring. Stephen Strange, a bit of a hot mess himself that hid behind snark and liked to pretend his heart was actually coal. “He wants to give me time, which I know I need, though I wish I didn’t.” “I think everyone needs time to figure out what they want, what they need,” Erik replied gently. He rummaged for a piece of something they’d gathered - one of the purple passion fruits, actually, summoning a knife with a zip of the blade to his hand. Slicing into the fruit, he planned to eat it right from the shell (seeds and pulp and all and it was delicious) once he got a spoon to fly to his hand with the same speed as the knife. So - Wanda had a potential thing with the Sorcerer. That was interesting - he’d spare her the ‘well, I’ll be there to give him a shovel talk’ nonsense because he was certain she didn’t need that, and Peter was overprotective enough for all of them anyway. Everyone knew what happened when you pissed off Magneto. Or hurt anyone in his family. He didn’t need to say it. “Certainly you’ll make mistakes - you both will - but to say you’ll ruin it isn’t giving you enough credit,” he added, continuing to cut carefully. “But yes, I felt guilty when I first contemplated things with Rogue. I felt as if I was betraying Magda, even though I know she would have wanted me to move on as well - but even knowing their wishes, it doesn’t stop the guilt entirely. I assure you it subsides, however - if it doesn’t, then perhaps you weren’t ready after all but the only way to know is to try. To also respect what you need during the grieving process as well.” Try. Wanda wanted to. It was just so - terrifying, the concept. But she also supposed giving it a go with someone who could disappear literally tomorrow was no different than doing something similar at home, where someone dying the next day was a more probable scenario (as that was their lives). Her nerves about it were still all gnarled but some of the apprehension ebbed with all this word vomit. “I think I would definitely need to take it slow,” she admitted tentatively, setting her beverage down. “This kind of - threw us for a loop? It was not something we naturally admitted. We went to this event thrown by one of the covens, the one with the worst reputation amongst them and they tend to dabble in powers of the mind. Guess what they decided to bring up.” It had irritated her but with time passing by, she found it almost funny. Almost. Not quite there yet. Wanda didn’t know if Stephen would have admitted it otherwise, or if she would have made herself recognize that there was something there for her too. Something real, and warm, and gave her belly that flutter she hadn’t felt in ages. “But maybe the nudge towards putting it out in the open was... needed, I suppose.” Wanda had dabbled in the world of denial for awhile in Westview, after all - she was kind of in denial about these budding feelings for a while too. That sounded awkward, to say the least. “On the one hand, it wasn’t their business,” Erik stated, spoon digging into the passion fruit depths. “But on the other - it brought you to this point. Which is a good thing?” He assumed it was, anyway - a making lemonade out of lemons kind of situation. The precipice of a potential new relationship always felt like floating - like you were going to sail away on a breeze. It felt exciting too, caused all sorts of stomach dips and flip-flops and the newness of it all was thrilling. “It’s possible to be happy with someone else and still think about Vision,” Erik said. He still thought about Magda frequently - whenever he heard certain songs or saw something she might find beautiful, like birds creating formations as they flew. “It’s just a different relationship. Something you open yourself up to, with its uniqueness. Love and grieving - it can happen at the same time.” The heart was an intricate, complex puzzle piece in that way. Endlessly fascinating. “I’m certain you’ll do what’s comfortable for you, Wanda.” It… was a good thing. Wanda only hated it because then that meant they had to give credit to that coven for nudging them into a productive direction, but it was a good thing. The concept of moving forward didn’t seize her with panic like it did at first, and she was becoming more comfortable with the realization that this was okay. That she was allowed to do this - allowed to try, allowed to be happy despite the loss and her sins. “I’m sorry - I know this was a loaded conversation,” she apologized with a wet chuckle. There was the ghost of a smile too, something sheepish but overall sincere. “I know this can’t be the easiest thing to talk about but you are the only one I know who could understand.” Talking it out had helped. She’d been harboring such confused, guilty thoughts that voicing them outloud seemed to be this spell that helped keep them at bay. Erik was right - love and grief didn’t need to be mutually exclusive. Vision had said something along the lines of that himself, once. “I do understand - and I’m glad you brought it up. Sometimes talking things out can really help.” Erik smiled too, fond and surprisingly warm despite how he was just all steel and iron bars. But he also knew a thing or two about what we did or did not deserve, and believing that good things could be within your grasp despite all the wrong you previously did in your life. His personal list of sins was...long. To say the least. And he owned that. Then he reached across the table and patted Wanda’s hand. “I want you to be happy in this world - or anywhere, in any life. And things are difficult sometimes but I’m here - as long as this place lets me be here,” he added, since he knew as well as they all did that there just wasn’t any controlling what Vallo would or wouldn’t do. When things were shifted off balance even a hair, there was usually one of those disturbingly long disappearance lists. He could only hope he wasn’t on one, well, ever. “Well - at the moment all I can do is control my actions in this world,” she replied, which was an odd thing to say when she clearly had free will back home, but. That timeline flowed differently. Their existence here would be this long-forgotten glitch, if she were ever blipped (gods, was that really a term now) from this place. “But whatever Wanda has a version of you in these other worlds is lucky. I wish I had you in mine.” Obviously by now Wanda knew they had some familial connection in other worlds, and in a strange way they had one here too. Family was weird. One across the multiverse was even weirder, yet this one was the most whole one she’d had since - well, since she was a child. And it was nice to have someone look out for her in the way Erik did. In a way that allowed her to breathe - he respected that she could take care of herself, at least. She appreciated that. That hand he reached out to pat her with was gently squeezed. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Really.” In Erik’s world, he didn’t have a Wanda - not that he knew of, anyway. Peter wasn’t a twin - he had two younger sisters, but they didn’t share a father. So to have Wanda now - it was nice. Really nice. And it didn’t matter to him that they weren’t from the same world or that, technically, Wanda was grown up and didn’t necessarily need a father figure. But the thing was? Everyone kind of did, sometimes - he recognized that she was an adult who could make her own decisions but he was always going to be here to talk things through if she wished to have another perspective or asked for a sounding board. He would let her fight her own battles but would be there in the wings as backup, or even fighting beside her - he’d bring her homemade matzo ball soup if she got sick, or just give her a hug if she needed one. Without saying anything. That was what a parent would do when their children were of any age, throughout their lives - it was what he would do, as a parent. “You’re welcome,” he smiled a little, fingers curling around hers in fond pressure before letting go. “Let me know what happens.” It was a good thing, her wanting to make the most out of her time here. And, with a dash of luck, the world would decide it wasn’t going to be done with them for awhile yet either. |