faderift | And when they come for me, when they call my name (Arrival)

Entry tags:

And when they come for me, when they call my name (Arrival)

WHO: Wanda Maximoff, demons, Hinterlands bears, and YOU!
WHAT: Wanda arrives in Thedas after losing track of time studying magic and eventually starts to settle in the Gallows.
WHEN: Throughout Cloudreach.
WHERE: The Hinterlands + The Gallows.
NOTES: Warnings for: Violence, bloodshed, language, etc. I'll add more as they come up/as needed. Also! There are spoilers/potential spoilers for WandaVision here.

I. Arrival

[Wanda doesn’t know when she falls asleep; torn between making herself dinner and studying the Darkhold at the same time, she loses track of time fairly frequently these days, and this evening proves no different as she throws herself into her studies and keeping up with basic housework as she avoids thinking about Westview and her lost family.

When she drifts off to sleep, she’s still dressed in her newly acquired Scarlet Witch outfit, growing increasingly distracted by the calls of her children, echoes of Tommy and Billy ringing in her head. In her hands, she has pieces of their costumes from Halloween: Billy’s headband and Tommy’s sneakers. In the other, she finds herself carrying the map of the plot of land Vision bought for them and a stuffed dog that remarkably resembles Sparky. Glancing down at it, Wanda smiles, fond and sad at the same time; all of these memories she carries with her, and none of the people part of those memories.

She doesn’t have that long to dwell on what’s she lost; not tonight, at least. In a matter of moments, Wanda finds herself falling, surrounded by green, apparently, and, within the next moment, finds herself landing hard on the cold ground, surrounded by what looks like a whole hell of a lot of trees. She seems to be in a forest of sorts, or, at least, in a meadow within a forest; she’s reminded of autumn in the countryside of America, the way the various greens, browns, and reds shine in the cold sunlight around her.

She only just barely has time to register the scenery when she hears what sounds like a screeching noise just behind her; Wanda turns and finds herself facing what looks like a pile of rags, except that it’s screaming at her, and, oops, that pile of rags sure is blasting ice in her direction.

Wanda just manages to avoid getting frozen by magically summoning a barrier in front of her as she tries to take in the scene around her: at least two of those piles of rags are floating around, weaving in and out of trees, each one seemingly trying to out scream the other, a few floating green…wisps? fly about as well, though they seem distinctly less horrifying than the piles of rags, and, finally, from the corners of her eyes, what looks to be a monster made of fire crawls its way towards her.

And that’s before the bear comes charging through the other side of the trees.]

All of this and a bear, really?

[Without thinking, Wanda’s accent slips out as she tries to asses the situation and come up with some kind of battle plan. Her barrier is weakening, she can feel it, with each passing attack; she’ll have to go on the offensive soon.

As her barrier fades, Wanda ducks and rolls to avoid being hit both with ice and from a bear claw to the face. Instinctively, she shoots off blasts of energy in the direction of the screechy piles of rags and the bear. She misses the pile of rags, but she manages to hit the bear in the face, which only seems to serve the purpose of annoying said bear further.

So things are going great, obviously. And all of this is before Wanda notices the sliver of green embedded in her right hand, of course.]

II. Settling in Kirkwall

[When Wanda makes it to Kirkwall, she’s told she needs to quarantine, for safety purposes. Wanda doesn’t argue; she doesn’t feel like arguing, even if she dislikes the thought of being stuck in one place for so long. It’s not as though she really has much of a choice, after all; she finds herself in a strange new world, one with demons and, apparently, really aggressive bears.

The Gallows is…interesting, to say the least. She might not be able to leave it, but Wanda finds that, at least, there’s much to explore and study, even stuck in one place. When she’s able to, she signs herself up for the Research division; studying, she thinks, she can do, safely, without hurting anyone else, intentionally or otherwise. And she would like to be of use, she thinks; at least joining Riftwatch gives her a purpose, a cause to work towards. Perhaps this can be her new means of avoiding thinking about Vision, Billy, and Tommy, and everyone else she’s ever loved and lost.

As a newly discovered witch, she can’t say she particularly loves hearing about the history and politics of magic here in Thedas, as Thedas is explained to her; she tenses, and decides that she’ll have to be completely and utterly careful here, as she realizes that many of her own abilities could easily get her labelled and condemned as a blood mage.

As she quarantines, Wanda tries to put herself at ease and find ways of setting herself up to be at home, as much as she can. When she is able to, she wanders the courtyard of the Gallows often, exploring the courtyard, mostly, and the people who drift in and out of the Gallows. One of her earliest endeavors, when she has the coin for it and when she's able to leave the Gallows to pursue the shops, will be to find herself clothes so that she doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb in her current outfit.

Wanda keeps to herself, mostly, but she isn’t opposed when people approach her, either. She knows she should work on reaching out and getting to know her fellow Rifters, at least, given that they’re all here together in this particularly shaped boat.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( petrana's history with rifters is — fraught, to say the least. that she is among their number makes it no less so; is, arguably, the source of a good deal of the conflict. she may no longer bear the weight of responsibility that the division heads who've come after her do, but she hasn't yet forgotten how exhausting and exasperating the rifter contingent of the then-inquisition outpost had been during her tenure. it is difficult to navigate the rifters, when nothing can truly be negotiated with a group of people who may have changed their makeup entirely within a matter of months,

but it is a bit easier when it appears, if she is frank, that the shift in the past months, has been all to the better. the showing of thoughtfulness and competence that she's seen, the practicality and willingness to work. to listen and think and do so productively, even when not immediately in agreement with her personally. and she has, she supposes, fallen into the self-same trap that has so often exasperated her in turn: seeing them en masse, "rifters". as individuals, willing to mold themselves to a new shape, there is so much that can be achieved.

as individuals, she can give them a chance. extend to them the kindnesses that were once extended to her, new and uncertain. the newest arrival, she's heard, is a woman and a witch — it is easy enough to find in herself some compassion for that. she thinks of the earliest days, and what she had needed, and so: one of the first people to seek out wanda for her own sake is a woman about half a foot shorter than she is with pinned up blonde hair, neatly dressed in corseted sky-blue with full skirts, carrying a large wrapped bundle and a closed sewing basket.

she had decided to leave vysvolod with marcus, less sure as to how the stranger might take a wolfhound unexpectedly. )

My name is Madame de Cedoux, ( she says, all courtesy, an accent that might remind wanda of france or any orlesians she's overheard but doesn't perfectly match either. ) May I come in?

[Wanda, when she isn't busying herself trying to catch up with learning all there is to know about Thedas, tends to lose herself in her own thoughts if she isn't out exploring what she can of the Gallows, drifting in between memories of Westview and her family there; the brief respite she forged between them. Occasionally, her thoughts wander to her little cabin in the woods in the mountains, to her studies and her determination to master her magic.

She's a little lost in thought when the other woman approaches, but she finds herself focusing in immediately as the woman speaks, drawn in by her accent (Orlesian, she thinks) and her impressive choice of outfit.

When she asks to come in, Wanda nods.]

Madame de Cedoux, a pleasure. I am Wanda Maximoff, newly arrived.

[She considers the bundle and closed sewing basket the woman has with her, curiosity getting the better of her. She tilts her head, studying them and Madame de Cedoux herself.]

Are you here to help catch me up with Thedas?

[She's had many people to help her adjust, which she appreciates, given just how much there is to catch up on, between the war and the Inquisition and Riftwatch and this Corypheus fellow who reminds Wanda, in the worst of ways, of Thanos with his lofty and terrible goals.]

In a manner of speaking, ( she agrees, stepping into the room and setting about the brisk, practical business of arranging what she's brought with her — several folded garments, books. a teapot, which has been carefully transported in her sewing basket not to spill anywhere, and two cups.

the pot she sets down and touches the side of, where what had looked like merely a pretty, unidentifiable design becomes more clearly some manner of sigil: when her fingertips touch it, both the design and petrana's eyes flare with blue light, and steam begins to curl lazily from the spout. )

When I arrived in Thedas, ( reflectively, ) I'd a riding habit to my name and no ability to yet read the local language. I traded mending duties with our maids for assistance in both matters — a few of the girls are literate enough. They would read to me while I did their work, until I could manage sufficiently to offer my abilities in less menial ways.

( she proffers a measuring tape. )

It was most practical. New arrivals to this world do stand out, at the beginning. I had the thought of altering some clothes for you, until you've the means to shift for yourself.

[Wanda watches as Madame de Cedoux unpacks what she's brought with her, eyes immediately drawn to the teapot and set of two cups. Her eyes widen as what looks like runes suddenly seem to emerge from the design of the teapot and the other woman presses her hand to it, both the apparent sigil and Madame de Cedoux's eyes glowing blue as steam starts to emerge from the pot.]

You're a witch? Or mage, I suppose, is what magic users are called here.

[Wanda finds herself even more captivated by this woman, in awe of her, even. She seems to hold herself with such poise and grace; her use of magic, elegant.

She listens as she explains her own arrival to Thedas, which catches Wanda off guard again because she initially assumed her to be native, with the way she dresses and holds herself. She finds herself even more thoroughly impressed.]

That sounds like a practical way to acclimate, trading favors for others. Are those in Riftwatch like that as well, willing to trade?

[When she offers the measuring tape, Wanda accepts it gratefully, nodding.]

I would appreciate that very much, thank you. I know I...stand out as is now.

[Wanda gestures to herself, to her Scarlet Witch outfit, and how very obvious said outfit makes it that Wanda isn't a native here.]

A witch, ( petrana agrees, with some specificity — she doesn't correct wanda on what mages are called, only what she is. the hints of surprise in her manner are filed away, isaac's voice in the back of her mind: how many do assume her native, now, without prompting?

a thought for another day. she unfolds wide, circular skirts; a bodice, what looks like it might be an oversized blouse or shift, and considers wanda and her rather confronting present look. armor of some kind, she supposes — perhaps a uniform. )

If you'll allow me to take your measurements, and to see how these fit you — I think they won't, very well, but I can alter them for you here and they ought to serve in the mean time — I may be able to answer some of your questions while I'm about it.

( there's really no way to be but blunt in her purpose, so: ) Only as much as you're comfortable removing, of course.

( but it will be tricky to take her measurements through boob armor, is the thing. )

To your first question, Riftwatch is — a group of pragmatists by necessity. We are a small organization, and it is a very large war. Whatever one can offer has value, I find; it is merely a question of finding it.

[Wanda nods, making note that Madame de Cedoux considers herself a witch. She knows that different labels hold different meanings for different people, such as witches and sorcerers back home; she assumes that holds true for magic users here, and for magic users who also happen to be Rifters as well.

She watches her unfold the clothes, taking in the sight and style of them. They might not be what she's used to wearing but they'll serve her better here, especially for fitting in and acclimating, which Wanda very much wants, for her part.]

I'd like that, thank you. I think the sooner I can blend in the locals, the better.

[Honestly, Wanda can't pretend she isn't looking forward to the chance to fall back into the crowd, put her head down, and try to atone for her recent adventures by applying herself to the cause of Riftwatch here.

She blinks, taking a moment before realizing what Madame de Cedoux means.]

Ah, you need me to undress. Understood.

[Wanda feels a bit shy for undressing in front of a stranger, but she also knows it's a necessary step in the process. She's quick and thorough as she removes her current get up.

She nods as she explains Riftwatch.]

How long has Riftwatch been as a functioning organization? How deeply involved is it in the war? I think I've heard people mention something about divisions?

( there's not much privacy that can be offered, alone in a room with a stranger who is about to adjust clothes to fit a figure, but petrana is courteous enough in busying herself with pouring tea and setting out her sewing things while wanda situates herself. once she's undressed — petrana is briskly efficient in measuring her, noting the measurements down, and considering how to start.

with the shift, she decides. work from the foundation out. )

Riftwatch was until two years past a satellite of the Inquisition until that situation became untenable, and Riftwatch became an independent ally — both organizations that functionally exist only because of and in the context of the war. Corypheus fights a war of annihilation, and it's necessary to respond accordingly. We haven't the luxury of being anything other than involved.

( she doesn't mean rifters, specifically, but: yes, rifters, specifically. )

Now, the divisions are a sort of shorthand for the work to which one is best suited - diplomacy, research, scouting and forces. We are led not by a singular individual but by the four heads of those divisions. Ambassador Rutyer, Provost Stark, Scoutmaster Yseult and Commander Flint.

( she helps wanda into the shift so she can mark and pin where it needs to be sewn, adding: ) One's division need not limit the scope of one's contributions. I am, myself, a member of diplomacy; as the chief cryptographer, I answer to our scouting head. And I have worked closely with the commander where necessary and appropriate.

[Wanda holds herself as still as she can for Madame de Cedoux while she takes her measurements. She seems brisk and effective at her task, and much gentler than those who'd performed similar actions when Wanda had volunteered with Hydra all those years ago, now. As she explains Riftwatch, Wanda listens.

She finds herself fascinated by the fact that Riftwatch began as an extension of a different organization, originally.]

So Riftwatch began as a part of The Inquisition and later became it's own organization? What caused the shift from working as a part of The Inquisition? How long has the war been going on?

[From the description of this Corypheus and this war of his, from what Wanda can tell, the war seems to define the ways of life, both in Kirkwall generally and within Riftwatch.

She imagines that, as a rifter, she has her own part to play in assisting with this war.

She moves and steps into the fabric and materials as Madame de Cedoux needs her to. She stills at the mention of a 'Provost Stark.' Surely that's just a coincidence?]

This Provost Stark. Is he also a Rifter, by any chance?

( that is quite a few questions all at once, and petrana considers the best way to answer them — where to start. with the last question, then: )

Indeed, as was Thranduil Baudin who held the post previously. ( the latter name she speaks with no great warmth, though she doesn't linger on whatever antipathy is there, continuing: ) For a time, I held the post of ambassador. There is much that can be achieved from even our strange beginnings, if one is willing to earn their place.

( and as much as she dislikes thranduil personally — as much as she is not convinced that his priorities align where she, personally, thinks they ought to — she cannot claim that she thinks he did not fairly earn the post he held when he held it. his choice to step down is a curious one to her, though she is perfectly happy not to look a gift-horse in the mouth. stark... she knows less well. )

I can't claim great acquaintance with our current Provost; I have spoken with him only briefly, as his work and my own have little enough overlapped prior to his appointment, which is quite new indeed. But he has been here for perhaps a year, before it, and there is confidence in him. In an organization more aligned with the Chantry — certainly more explicitly aligned with it — we might not be permitted such heights, no matter our suitability or ethic. Riftwatch,

( a sigh, as she works with the pins. )

When we were dispatched to Kirkwall, it was a shift in philosophy from Mother Inquisition. Riftwatch contains all of us who arrived her uniquely, and the native-born shard-bearers who share our burden, ( an illustrative gesture of the hand that bears her shard of the anchor, and the fact that it isn't only rifters who do is certainly useful information, ) as well as any number of recalcitrant individuals less suited to falling in line with the Inquisition's more — repressive instincts.

With the benefit of hindsight, I might say that our break from the Inquisition proper was inevitable from the time we took over the Gallows. As to the war,

Corypheus tore open the Fade in 9:41 Dragon. It is presently 9:47.

( we're in it for the long haul, baby. )

[Wanda listens, trying to ignore the instinct to nod as Madame de Cedoux explains about Riftwatch, its history with the Inquisition, and Provost Stark. She notes the lack of warmth when she mentions Thranduil Baudin, another Rifter in a position of power, it seems.]

It's good to hear that there is Rifter representation among the higher positions within Riftwatch. That we can achieve higher positions through our work and contributions.

[The mention of the Chantry, of how Riftwatch is able to more freely appoint people of all sorts to posts within it, also catches Wanda's attention. From what she's gathered so far about the Chantry here, it appears to be like the Catholic Church back home. She's still educating herself about Andraste and the religion surrounding her, but she understands the power and influence the Chantry itself seems to wield.

Her eyebrow arches upwards as Madame de Cedoux explains that not everyone who bears the rift shards is a Rifter; she certainly assumed so, before this.]

So Riftwach, while not as large as the Inquisition, seems to encompass more variety of people working for it? That seems an advantage, no?

[But she is only just starting to learn about Thedas and the way Thedas ticks; she can only guess, at this point.

She stares when she mentions the dates, that this war has apparently been going on for six years and counting.]

I don't suppose the war shows any signs of slowing anytime soon? Seems like, from what I can tell and from what I've heard, it's been a long fought war.

It is worsening.

( this is evenly delivered; there is no sugar-coating it, and no purpose to beating around the bush. attempting to make this gentler will not serve wanda, in petrana's view — she will have to know, and sooner is better than later because thedas does not care if they catch up or not. they will sink or swim on their own merits. better to do it with all of the tools at their disposal that they might have.

thranduil has more patience with the more foolish, but a willingness to listen is not such a high bar to clear for petrana's own efforts. it's simply that she doesn't, personally, view rifters as deserving of special treatment or status — they are no more her people than the rest of riftwatch. importantly, they are no less her people than the rest of riftwatch.

god helps those who help themselves, and so does petrana de cedoux. )

Corypheus fights a war of annihilation. The rifts through which we came to this world ( which is an entirely separate philosophical and practical discussion she is not going to broach immediately without prompting, because being told that the person you remember being is probably still exactly where you left her is a difficult thing for most to process, ) are a symptom of the disease that is this war, and his desires. He would rend heaven to remake it and Thedas in his image, enslaving all before him and destroying all who oppose.

( the stakes, they are high. petrana offers her, from beneath the clothes she had laid out, a robe to wear while she sits and stitches. it will fit a little oddly, made for a woman several inches shorter, but designed to fit loose enough that it's not going to be uncomfortable or indecent.

...it is edged in feathers. there's a certain 'i saw my husband only last evening, officer, whatever is this about?' je ne sais quoi about it, and it is soft, fine fabric that has a lingering scent of lilac-water that wanda will recognize as the same scent hanging in petrana's hair when she's near to measure and pin. )

We are not winning, but we have not yet lost.

Just have a seat.

[Most new arrivals, especially Rifters, end up in the infirmary for an initial once-over; sometimes they're dealing with collapsing lungs or trauma from the journey, and sometimes they're just concerned about the new green explosion in their palm.

Whatever the case with Wanda, she's approached by a small and serious-faced elf clothed in black, who brings her a ladle of water.]

My name is Brother Gideon. How are you feeling?

[He barely emotes.]

[Wanda finds herself uneasy in the infirmary, even if she can understand why she's here. She's supposed to quarantine; it makes sense that they would examine her.

When she finds the serious appearing elf approaching her, she isn't surprised to hear him introduce himself as a Brother, from what she assumes from his garb and way of speaking, as if almost entirely without emotion.

The question, she isn't sure how she feels, really. Many feelings seem to be competing in her for that too spot.

She shrugs.]

Uncertain. Surprised. Trying to make sense of it all, especially, this.

[She holds up her right hand with the sliver of green embedded in it.]

Are you with Riftwatch?

Yes.

[He glances at her hand, making a note of it, but seeing no reason to examine it on its own-- it's the same as any other Rifter's, as far as he can tell.]

If I can help to make sense of any of it, I will try.

[Wanda withdraws her hand back to herself, trying not to ask him an endless barrage of questions all at once.]

I appreciate that, thank you. How long have you been with Riftwatch, if you don't mind me asking?

Not much longer than yourself. A few months.

[He doesn't smile, but there's a wryness about his expression: they're both newcomers, with things to learn.

At least he's familiar with Thedas itself.]

[Wanda nods, feeling a small twinge of comfort at the idea that he hasn't been here much longer than herself. There's something to be said for finding comfort in a shared sense of newness, she thinks.]

And how have you found it here? Is Riftwatch what you expected?

And then some.

[Whatever that means, he doesn't elaborate.]

It's a young organization. I imagine, as long as you're willing to contribute, you will be welcomed.

[That's an interesting answer, she thinks. Nothing specific, and nothing that determines whether or not his Riftwatch experience has proven good or bad.]

Well, I suppose that's fair. Seems like Riftwatch has many ways to contribute.

[Cosima's been back a few weeks now, and she's gathered a few clothes, but she's decided it's time to properly refill her Thedosian wardrobe. Her current outfit blends at a glance, a loose tunic belted over pants. The fingerless gloves hide her anchor shard, though not her rings. But the glasses are always going to draw some notice; she's not willing to get a native pair at a less precise prescription. And anyone who happens to be from Earth in the right era can clock a pair of Doc Martens when they see them, but well-fitting shoes are worth it in Cosima's opinion.

She's currently considering a stall of cloaks when she glances over and smiles a bit.]

Hey ... I don't think we've met, but I've seen you around the Gallows, right? You must be a new arrival. Finding what you need OK?

[The accent's American, as is (arguably) the demeanor. The friendliness does seem genuine, though.]

[Wanda is navigating the market in Lowtown, both fascinated and nearly overwhelmed by what the various merchants have on offer. She's investigating a stall with various clothing and armor options on display, curious as to their practicality, when someone with an American accent speaks to her, drawing Wanda's attention instantly.

She turns, taking in the sight of the other young woman, and smiles when she catches sight of her modern glasses and Doc Martens, immediately endeared to her for those familiar items in addition to her friendly inquiry.

She nods, smiles.]

Yes, I've only just gotten here. It's a lot to take in, but I admit, it's nice to see a bit of fashion I recognize.

[Wanda nods towards her shoes, still smiling. At her question, she shrugs.]

As well as I can, I think. I'm still trying to make sense of everything and figure out what I need. What about you? Have you been here long?

Uh, weirdly complicated. I've been here about a month, but I was also here before, for about three years. Gone for about a year and a half by Thedas time in between, closer to two years' new memories for me in the gap.

[She tilts her hand, suggesting approximation.]

So I'm readjusting. Unfortunately, most Rifters who vanish don't come back, so no one, like, saved my wardrobe in a trunk or anything.

You were here previously? Did you return home before returning here again? How does that work?

[Wanda feels slightly guilty for the barrage of questions she's throwing at this young woman, but she can't help herself. She's trying her best to understand Thedas and how it works.

When she mentions no one saving her trunk, Wanda offers her a sympathetic look.]

So you had to start over completely when you came back? That must have been difficult.

Yeah, I mean, I don't blame anyone for not saving it all. Coming back is rare, so like, you can't assume.

[She's not reluctant to answer the rest, exactly, but she weighs her words before saying:]

Look, depending on what you want, I can tell you what I actually know, for sure. Or I can tell you my best theory on what's going on. I can't prove the second part, I'm working on subjective experiences and a small data sample size, so.

[Wanda nods. That would make sense, to repurpose or get rid of belongings and other materials left behind by someone highly unlikely to return.

When she tells Wanda that she can share what she truly knows and what she theorizes is happening, Wanda takes a few moments to consider between those options.

After another moment, she nods.]

What is your theory, and what research have you done in pursuit of it?

OK. So. [She exhales, glancing around, but the market's busy enough no one's paying them any attention.]

What I experienced was I came through a rift into Thedas the first time about four and a half years ago by the local calendar. As I said, I was here for about three years and then I ... I assume I vanished. My memory of Thedas abruptly ends with going to bed one night.

When I was home, though, I wasn't aware of any time passing. I woke the morning after I'd originally gone to bed. No Thedas memories, no gap at all, so I just ... went on with my life. About a year and a half went by and I went to bed and boom, rift number two. When I came out here, I had my new memories from home and got back the three-ish years from Thedas I'd lost.

[She absently turns one of the rings she's wearing, more thoughtful than nervous.]

I'll go through all my research with you in detail back at the Gallows if you want. But the upshot is... I don't think the me at home actually went anywhere, either time. I think my consciousness was copied somehow, from my home world, and given a physical form here in Thedas. So the me that experienced those three years in Thedas ... honestly, I'm not sure I was anywhere, in between vanishing and reappearing. Maybe in the Fade? I don't have enough data to make a real guess.

Picture it like ... you've got computers, where you're from, right? [Not certain, as Doc Martens have been around a bit, but an educated guess.]

[Wanda has to repress a smile, endeared by Cosima's apparent enthusiasm, and the way it reminds her of Bruce in his excitement whenever he started to explain something especially scientific and difficult to understand by those not so deeply involved with Gamma Rays.

As she listens to her explain, she nods along, trying to process what she hears.]

It sounds as though that experience could give you whiplash.

[It would certainly give her whiplash, for her part.

When she asks about computers, Wanda nods.]

Yes. I don't often find myself using them but we do have them. So, you think our physical selves remain back home while our consciousnesses are here? Being in two places at once?

[It wouldn't be the strangest theory she's ever heard; and from what she understands, it would make sense.]

[Cosima nods.]

Yeah. I think it's like when you upload a copy of a file to the cloud and then download it on another machine. The files were perfectly identical when you copied them, but any changes you make on the new machine ... now they're slightly different. It's not a perfect analogy, obviously, but it's a different phenomenon than any of the ways you get copies in nature. Identical twins. Or even clones.

[A little private joke, haha.]

It's strange. It's even stranger the second time because it's like ... I have all the stuff that happened to the original me in between added in, but also that version of me didn't remember the Thedas stuff so like ... the timeline's weird to subjectively experience. I'm doing OK but. Like you said: whiplash.

He spots Wanda crossing the courtyard and he does a double-take. He'd thought she was gone, so what does this mean? She's back again, like Slim Shady or some shit? Realizing he's been caught staring, Erik raises a hand and then jogs her way.

"Hey." Holding out a hand for her to shake. "Erik Stevens. You're Wanda, right?" Her reaction will tell him at least whether or not she remembers him.

Wanda is mostly out in the courtyard today to walk and people watch, so she's distracted before she realizes that someone is watching her. Her gaze falls on a young man waving at her; she doesn't recognize him but she waves back regardless, just to be polite.

She takes his offered hand and shakes it nodding. Her smile is slightly wry as she answers him.

"Yes, I'm Wanda," she confirms. "I don't believe I've met you before. Do you know me from the Avengers?

But it is nice to meet you, Erik," she adds. While she wonders (and worries) where he might recognize her from, she's also somewhat relieved to potentially come across someone else who might also be from her own world here in Thedas.

Erik's handshake is firm without being crushing, but there's obvious strength there. And also from just... looking at the man. "From the Avengers, yeah, I mean. Kinda?" He tilts his head after putting his hand back at his side. "I met you before, though. Here. We showed up at the same time and then you were gone just as quick. Dunno if anyone's told you that even was a possibility.

Tony Stark is also here, by the way, in case no one warned you of that either."

That is interesting, Wanda thinks, as Erik explains that she was here before, and seemingly vanished as quickly as she arrived. She can't say that it's the strangest thing she's ever heard, given, well, her recent experiences, but still. She's intrigued and a bit concerned all at once.

"No one has until just now, no," she says with a wry smile. "But that is good to know."

When he mentions Tony Stark being here as well, Wanda's eyes widen.

"Is he? This night sound like a strange question, but has Tony mentioned where he was before arriving here?"

"In 2013, apparently, which... I dunno about you, but that is about three years past the last thing I remember before arriving here." He has no idea when Wanda is from, but he figures it's best to be honest about it.

"2013," Wanda repeats, and when Erik mentions that 2013 is three years past his own time, she has the sinking feeling that she might be the person from the latest point in time in their world, which...well. A mixed blessing, really.

"Ah, it was 2021 for me," she answers ruefully. "So I guess that makes me from the furthest point in time."

"Damn. So 2013, 2016, 2021?" Erik shakes his head a little. "I imagine the Avengers have gotten up to all sorts of shit in the meantime, huh?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And when they come for me, when they call my name (Arrival)

gallows quarantine.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

II (infirmary)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Lowtown - just shout if you'd like any adjustments

This looks great, thank you!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

ii.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

wowow I worded that weirdly, but he's from 2016 not 2010.