( OPEN ) » I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do

[divaricate]

WHO • WHERE: Wanda Maximoff and anyone else • Various locations
WHEN • WHAT: January 3rd—January 10th • Wanda is alive again
WARNINGS: Since Wanda is now back from being dead for just a day shy of three weeks, there will at least be mentions of character death. If anything else comes up that warrants a warning, I'll toss those up in their subject lines as needed.
»» NOTES: Please check out Wanda's permissions post so I know what you are and are not okay with!

---

❝01 ➤ OPEN ➤ JANUARY 3rd.❞

Wanda wakes up with a start, trying to take a deep and surprised breath, only to realize the oxygen where she is ... doesn't really exist. And it's dark. And cold. And in a very small, close, and tight, place -- which is a bad place to be in when someone is as claustrophobic as she is. She's too busy having a panic attack to remember where she is and how she got here, trying to kick against the hard box she finds herself in, because she's also in too much of a panic to remember she can simply teleport her way out of this.

Twenty seconds later. she finally remembers that fact, and teleports herself out, landing on a grave that hasn't been dug too long ago. It's dark outside, and if she were wearing a watch, she'd see that it's 4:24 AM. The long-skirted, long-sleeved scarlet dress isn't very thick, so she's cold in it as her hands and feet also make contact with the dirt. It's snowing. She finally looks up at the gravestone in front of this grave, only to find her own name, with her birth and death dates -- and a small Star of David above her name:

✡

WANDA MAXIMOFF
June 5th, 1989 — December 14th, 2017

Right. She died. And now she's not. Of course, because the Porter fucked up because some people went to poke at it for answers, blah blah blah, and as a result, people got sick -- some more than others -- and her own powers went so crazy that they killed her. Good times. Except not at all. Her next thought is 'how long have I been dead?', and her thought following that one is 'where do I go first from here?'. There are a few small stones on top of the gravestone, and a few flowers around it. She stands up and stands there for a few long minutes, staring, thinking. If you're here this early (or late, depending on perspective) either to see her grave or someone else's, you may see a freezing woman looking like she's staring into space in front of a tombstone.

About a half hour to forty-five minutes passes before she just runs out of the cemetery as fast as she can with the long dress on, barefoot and freezing, but she still has no idea where she's going.

She runs for another couple of blocks after exiting the cemetery, then slows to a walk. She lets her hair out of the tight bun that it had been pulled back in, and if she sees someone out at this hour, she might ask them what day it is and explain that she doesn't know because she's been -- uh, out -- for a while. Or maybe she'll take a break from walking to sit on a bench, quietly wondering where she should go first, as she shivers and tries to warm herself up by rubbing her arms; you don't have a jacket to offer her, do you?

❝02 ➤ SEMI-OPEN (FAMILY/CLOSER CR) ➤ VARIOUS LOCATIONS, THE REMAINDER OF JANUARY 3rd & ALL DAY OF THE 4th.❞

[There will be closed prompts for these days in the comments, for whomever in these circles wants them.]

❝03 ➤ OPEN ➤ DE CHIMA, JANUARY 5th.❞

Wanda doesn't go back in to her bakery until the 5th. Early, approximately 6 AM (which is still later than she'd go in if she were working). She's not opening it today, because she wants to readjust to life, and life here, but she'll be back at it in a few days. (She'll spend most of her day -- until approximately 4 PM, anyway -- in here, though, so you may see her later.)

She of course sees all the flowers, and notes, and things people have left outside the door to the bakery, and she carefully moves past them to go inside. She doesn't turn on the lights, but walks around slowly, seeing everything is as she and Jean left it. Jean, who isn't here -- well, sort of.

She's been running this place for over a year, and she'd named it a Sokovian word meaning 'new'. New as in new world, new as in new start, new as in new life. Maybe it was a little on the cheesy side, but she liked it. Over the past few months, she's sort of neglected it more than she likes -- in mid-September to late-October when she shut off her positive emotions, she came in ... not as much as she should have ... and when she did, she did half of her work. And now for the past month, she's been on hiatus from it because she was too sick and then too dead; it's probably time to choose yet another new path for her life here (her second life, if coming back to life counts as a second life and not an extension of the first), but she's only been alive for a day, so there's time to sort that out in the next few days.

She forgot to lock the door behind her, so maybe you saw her come in, or see her still there later in the day and decide to stop in -- either to see her, or because you thought it was open today. She'll be cleaning and reorganizing almost everything. in here. Maybe help a Wanda out?

❝04 ➤ SEMI-OPEN (ANY/ALL JUSTICE LEAGUE MEMBERS) ➤ DE CHIMA, JANUARY 7th.❞

It's not until the 7th that Wanda (and all in her uniform, too) makes her way back to the Hall of Justice. She's using her telekinesis to float two boxes of cupcakes in front of her (red wisps circle her fingers and the boxes) -- mint chocolate with a fuckton of icing -- and there's enough for people to have fourth or fifth servings. (On top of that, there's a couple extra for Batman, marked by a small tag tied around the wrapper that has written on it: "FOR BOSS-BATMAN, DO NOT EAT UNLESS YOU ARE HIM. OR DO EAT THEM ANYWAY AND YOU WILL BE ON THE SHITLIST OF AN ANNOYED PSYCHIC".)

She's heading towards an empty side room, like a conference room, because that seems like a good place to drop off a load of cupcakes, right? People can wander in and pick up a snack.

❝05 ➤ OPEN ➤ W I L D C A R D. ➤ VARIOUS CITIES, ANY TIME (MOSTLY!) BETWEEN JANUARY 5th—10th❞

OOC — If you want a different prompt, toss one up and I'll roll with it! Or if you want to discuss anything beforehand, just hit me up via PM or plurk.

Comments

On the bench

[incogneto]

[ Erik has a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He came by yesterday, of course, with different flowers. Red both times, her favorite.

He's still in a bit of a trance, preoccupied with the heaviness of his own thoughts. Ever the morning person, now he barely registers getting out of bed. But he has to leave flowers for Wanda, has to get out of the house, has to walk through the brisk January air and remind himself he's still here, waiting.

Suddenly, he's confused. Of course, because he remembers the exact dress he buried his daughter in, it's hard not to recognize, even from a distance. But it's as if his body shuts down for a moment to catch up to his brain, and he's hyper-aware of the breath freezing in his lungs.

He takes a step, and another, and then breaks into a run. ]

Wanda!

[ He stops by the bench, tossing the flowers to the ground, divesting himself of his coat and draping it over her shoulders ]

[divaricate]

[As soon as the jacket is on, she's standing up anyway to give him a tight hug. She doesn't speak for a few seconds, halfway unsure of what to say and halfway uncertain if she could even make words come out of her mouth or if they'd just get stuck in her throat. When she does finaly, speak, it's simple: ]

Hi.

[Another few seconds of silence pass.]

How long was I—

[Apparently dead, and also chillin' in the ground.]

[incogneto]

[ The answer is immediate. ]

Two weeks, six days, and a few hours.

[ The last time he'd held her, she'd been recently deceased. And pale, and not quite cold but certainly tepid. It was remarkable how, trying to map life back onto her features in his head felt like such a preposterous lie. And now, the sound of her voice as more than an echo, the weight of her head against his shoulder and even just the tiniest perceptible movements serve to mark the two moments as worlds apart.

He pulls away slightly, just to look at her, cups her face in his hands for a moment before resuming the embrace, cradling her as if to blanket her in warmth. ]

I didn't know if I would see you again.

[ He barely chokes out the words until sobs overtake him. ]

1.

[aberranthubris]

It doesn't take for long for Charles to detect her thoughts, and not only hers but Erik's as well. He'll smile to himself, gets out of bed and pushes away thoughts of sleep for tonight. These news are worth losing one night of sleep over.

He doesn't try to contact her while Erik is with her but when it seems like a good, quiet moment, he reaches out with telepathy, opening up a quiet connection with her.

Wanda. How are you? Do you need anything?

Relief is too mild a world to describe how he feels.

[divaricate]

She doesn't hesitate too much when the familiar voice pops in her head.

Alive, which I think counts as doing better. A quick way to get three weeks back is kind of where I'd like to start.

Her last sentence could be a joke, but there's also more truth behind it.

[aberranthubris]

I'm so very sorry you had to go through this, Wanda. I can never make up for it and my part in all this. I'm so happy to see you back and well.

But if you do need something...

Charles quiets for a moment, settling. It's understandable that she'd be upset.

I can't give you those weeks back but if you need to know something, if I can help, I will.

de chima

[cigarbribery]

Foggy's only just here because he saw the door was open, and someone inside was moving around—to his mind, and also his stomach, that meant the place was finally open, and so he'd taken the initiative of stepping inside, briefcase in hand. He's not really much of an intimidating figure, he's soft around the edges and his suit is a little shabby, and when he's fully inside he just looks around.

Um. Oh, boy. He might have overstepped his boundaries a little bit here.

Well, there's really no help for it now, so Foggy rocks back onto his heels, and says, "Hey, uh—you left your door open, do you need any help?"

[divaricate]

She turns when she hears someone come in, and offers a small but apologetic smile. "Sorry," She gives a slight laugh. "I'm just, um, reorganizing after not being here for three weeks. Something something porter shenanigans." But she digresses. "Do you accept cupcakes as payment?" Or any baked goods of choice, really.

[cigarbribery]

Three weeks?

Oh, right. The month everyone's powers were on the fritz. "Tell me about it," he says, tucking his hand into his pocket, "I had the mother of all headaches because of the shit with the Porter." He sets his briefcase down on a convenient chair, and gives Wanda a friendly little grin as he rolls his sleeves up. He'd have done it for free, anyway, but the cupcakes are a good payment method.

"I accept cupcakes, brownies, and all other pastries I can carry home in a paper bag," he says. "Of any flavor. Just point me where you want me."

▓ 02 ▓ closed ➤ January 3rd

[divaricate]

( for monsterdoc )

It's still fairly early in the morning when she teleports herself into the Heropa house. She's still wearing the red dress, still sans shoes, but if Bruce is asleep, she doesn't want to wake him up; she'll be here when is. She starts brewing a pot of coffee, and moves around quietly -- but quickly and with purpose -- to collect some of her things. She's specifically looking for her journal, the one she's written in for the past almost year (after filling up a few others since her arrival here), gets a bowl that could withstand some heat, drops a couple of lit matches in, and starts tearing out select pages of the journal to toss in the bowl one by one. Or maybe three by three. Something like that. It's not all the pages, just the ones where she'd written out letters to Billy after he'd ported out, things she wanted to tell him about, as if she could send the letters to him through the multiverse -- which, of course, she couldn't -- ones she'd probably give to him if he showed back up here with his memories. But though she may be alive again, there are parts of her she'd rather leave in the ground -- like the part of her that thinks that's ever going to happen now, with how many months it's already been.

Any of her attempts to keep quiet are all for nothing a few moments later as the smoke from her mini-bonfire (too bad she didn't think to make s'mores, right?) in the kitchen set off the smoke detector -- which she quickly removes the battery to via telekinesis. Just, you know, not fast enough for any noise to ever come out of it. Whoooooooops.

▓ 02 ▓ closed ➤ January 3rd ➤ Doom

[monsterdoc]

Bruce is sitting in a chair in shadows when she comes in, and she does those things, and at first... at first, she seems a spectre, surely here to tell him how he failed her, how he lost her, and how it was his fault, all things he had told himself so many times these last few weeks.

All things he believes. So he watches her as she moves around, and does things, and he watches her as she does so much and it puzzles him.

Until she makes so much noise and he watches her and finally, from that chair in the shadows, he speaks.

"Are you real? Or are you a ghost of pains past to remind me of what failures I have done here?" His voice is cracked, dry, whispy, for he has not spoken to a soul in over a week and a half. He looks rougher, if she turns on a light. Clean, but hair in disarray, longer than normal, and eyes dark and with dark bags under them. And he looks tired, for he sleeps little, or too much, in waves.

[divaricate]

She stops what she's doing to look at what she'd missed earlier -- him sitting there. "If I were a ghost, I hope I'd be wearing something other than a dress with sleeves that are way too long and a skirt too long." A short pause. "I'm real, and I don't remember anything about failures. What I do remember is you doing more than anyone else." She walks over to where he is, finally, and sits on his lap, wrapping her arms around him; her skin is as warm and soft as before, a definite sign that she is in fact very much not a ghost. "I love you; I should have said that earlier, so I'm also sorry that I didn't." She could easily say a hundred more things, but if she starts now then she may never stop and he'll never get a word in, so she forces herself to hold back for now.

1. january 3rd

[the_caped_crusader]

[His approach is noiseless, as usual. It's not quite a jacket, but he drapes his heavy thermal cape around her and puts a hand on her shoulder.]

Welcome back.

[divaricate]

Thanks — on both counts. [for the warm cape and the welcome.

red wisps circle her fingers and she magically conjures up some confetti which floats to the ground somewhat halfheartedly. Less exciting than she imagined, whoops. Well. She tried.]

You weren't stalking the ground, were you? [slight teasing, as evident by the half smile at the corner of her mouth.]

[the_caped_crusader]

Your League communicator has a built-in tracker. I came when I noticed it moving.

[A pause.]

Can you walk?

▓ 02 ▓ closed ➤ January 3rd

[divaricate]

( for quickfingers )

It's later in the morning on the 3rd when she finally reaches out to Peter -- somewhere around 10 -- and when she does, it's telepathically.

Hey.

Simple, short, effective, as far as openings go.

[quickfingers]

[This moment was long, long overdue. He'd been waiting for it and beginning to worry it wouldn't come to pass. They say people come back here, more reliably than when they port out, which is the biggest display of irony he could find. But as days went by and his sister didn't reappear, Peter began to fearfully doubt that she would. Maybe like Jean she'd just... be gone, possibly forever. Maybe she'd resurface like Jean, a different version - one who forgot all their times together here, too.

But thoughts like that vanish when he hears her voice in his head, snapping him to attention. He smiles, doing absolutely nothing of worth but watching a frozen burrito cook in the microwave, and leans back against a counter with the... strongest wave of relief he's felt in a long while.

Fuck. He lolls his head back, rubbing his hands over his face.

Wan? That's you, right? ]

[divaricate]

It's me. Where are you?

[She already knows Jean's gone -- Erik told her. God his December must have sucked.]

hall of justice!!

[khajidont]

[ Jaime's never met Wanda, not really - not properly, anyway. They're acquaintances more than anything, a familiar face at Justice League meetings, someone who hangs around wherever Erik is. He never made the effort to get to know her better, not because he didn't think she was a perfectly nice person, but because he's busy, and time runs away from him more often than not.

And then he was in the hospital, complaining about not being able to keep food down, and she was dead. When she shows up unexpectedly while Jaime's busy looking something up on the computer, he whirls around, surprised. ]

Whoa - you're back! Hey!

[divaricate]

Hey. [She offers a smile. Busy times for all, so that's easily forgiven, but, getting to actually talk more would be awesome too.] And I come bearing cupcakes. Do you like mint chocolate?

[khajidont]

I like anything to do with chocolate, [ Jaime says, and while his features aren't easily readable behind his mask, his smile is as warm as ever. He can't believe it - she's the one that died, and now she's bringing them goodies. It should be the other way around. ]

Um... I know you're probably sick of hearing this by now? [ Maybe? He's not sure about the temperament of everyone they surround themselves with, but she's one of Erik's, and Erik is a lot more paternal than anyone could ever guess by looking at him. ]

But... are you okay? If there's anything any of us can do, just let me know.

❝03 ➤ NOVI ➤ JANUARY 5th.❞

[vanto]

Eli is a fan of Novi's food though since Wanda's death he's not been as regular as before. It is how he deals with feelings avoiding physically if he must (a metaphorical pole vault away from uncomfortable situations).

And he's tried very hard to not think as of late.

That day, however, as he passes by (on the other side of the street, of course — in that way his eyes don't wander to the cards and flowers) he spots well.

Wanda.

Eli hesitates. He must be really tired. He must be seeing things. He crosses the street, ignores the car honking as it swerves to avoid hitting Eli. (The boy is an idiot, okay).

[divaricate]

The loud honk from outside catches Wanda's attention, in a 'what's going on NOW' way, but when she sees the familiar face, she walks quickly out to meet him after he has the miss with the car, with a wide smile on her lips.

"Please try not get run over, though." Hug incoming...

[vanto]

Eli wraps his arms around Wanda in a firm hug. Good, she's real and — Eli just give her a firm squeeze before pulling back slightly to smile down at her.

"Yeah, well, it's fine. I can survive being hit by a car."

▓ 02 ▓ closed ➤ January 4th

[divaricate]

( for magneticxman )

---

It's early the next morning after her revival from the dead that Wanda stops by Lorna's house -- hopefully she hasn't left for work yet. Instead of knocking and possibly disturbing Remy and the pets at a stupid hour, Wanda opts for trying to send a quick telepathic message to Lorna:

« Knock-knock, sestra; I come with coffee. »

Sestra, the Sokovian word for 'sister'; Wanda and the younger Jean who was here before used to call each other that (Wanda started it since it was her native language), since they'd grown so close, before Lorna showed up. And now it seems that the word should be rightfully passed on to Lorna, as she's definitely her sister by more than just a close friendship.