[the whispering and the static that she had heard from the mind stone, the rush of air like a gale that she fought against to stay standing as it revealed to her the potential in her, it overwhelms her. it demands her attention, reminds her of what she could be, what she could do, how she should get what she is owed.
a voice cuts through the noise.
wanda! come on, man, i don't need you destroying my placeβ
it grounds her even as her magic pushes against her attempts to contain it; it keeps her from getting lost in the past, what ifs, the anger and the resentment that goro's thoughts and words had brought to the forefront of her mind. when she opens her eyes again, she doesn't see dead bodies staring back at her. she sees nero, instead, looking down at her with concern, reminding her that she's safe.
the glaze over her eyes disappears as she blinks away at the tears that had formed, and suddenly she's profusely aware of their surroundings falling apart. she spares the clawed hand a bewildered, momentary look, before she's sitting up and reigning in her magic. her hands raise, keeping the barn from falling flat to the ground.
everything floats, suspended in space. wanda's eyes are wide, looking at nero.]
I'm sorry. [she whispers; she's always apologizing after doing something horrible, isn't she?] I'll fix it. I promise.
[with a twirl of her wrists, everything starts getting situated back in placeβfallen beams, broken items, the broken foundations of the walls. she focuses her attention on the details, fortifies what she broke. and even when she presents such easy comfort in using her magic, there are times when it just takes so much from herβlike right now.
sorry, nero. your bed is not fixed, yet, as wanda drops her hands, as if weighed down by them, breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath. at least the world isn't falling around them anymore, and her magic seems to have stopped flaring out of her.
and yetβ]
βI'm sorry. I'm sorry.
[βshe keeps muttering apologies, breathless as she is, and will not stop repeating them ad nauseum until told so.]
no subject
a voice cuts through the noise.
wanda! come on, man, i don't need you destroying my placeβ
it grounds her even as her magic pushes against her attempts to contain it; it keeps her from getting lost in the past, what ifs, the anger and the resentment that goro's thoughts and words had brought to the forefront of her mind. when she opens her eyes again, she doesn't see dead bodies staring back at her. she sees nero, instead, looking down at her with concern, reminding her that she's safe.
the glaze over her eyes disappears as she blinks away at the tears that had formed, and suddenly she's profusely aware of their surroundings falling apart. she spares the clawed hand a bewildered, momentary look, before she's sitting up and reigning in her magic. her hands raise, keeping the barn from falling flat to the ground.
everything floats, suspended in space. wanda's eyes are wide, looking at nero.]
I'm sorry. [she whispers; she's always apologizing after doing something horrible, isn't she?] I'll fix it. I promise.
[with a twirl of her wrists, everything starts getting situated back in placeβfallen beams, broken items, the broken foundations of the walls. she focuses her attention on the details, fortifies what she broke. and even when she presents such easy comfort in using her magic, there are times when it just takes so much from herβlike right now.
sorry, nero. your bed is not fixed, yet, as wanda drops her hands, as if weighed down by them, breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath. at least the world isn't falling around them anymore, and her magic seems to have stopped flaring out of her.
and yetβ]
βI'm sorry. I'm sorry.
[βshe keeps muttering apologies, breathless as she is, and will not stop repeating them ad nauseum until told so.]