i'm headed straight for the castle (open post)

[hext]

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word splurges everywhere oops?

[voicelog]

[It didn’t turn out the way he wanted it to.

He was (and still is) only trying to do the right thing – the thing that will benefit (and protect) everyone the most, the thing with the least amount of conflict possible. But when does anything ever come easy for Tony Stark? When does it ever not spiral out of his control and blow up in his face? He expected Steve to object. He expected him to stand his ground because he knows just how obstinate he can be. He knows because he’s the exact same way.

Honestly, he still doesn’t believe he’s in the wrong. He’s still firm on the decisions he made. Does he have any doubts? Yes. Does he have any guilt? He has enough of that to last him several lifetimes. Does he have any regrets or any concerns? Well, yes. He does. He has three major regrets and concerns he can list off the top of his head right now – Rhodey, Wanda, and Ross. (He'll save everyone from having to read his internal grievances over each one of them though.)

Tony has spent the last few months since the breakout at the Raft helping Rhodey with his recovery and handling Ross – by handling, he mostly means he’s been irritating the hell out of the guy while he persistently nags him about the whereabouts of Captain America and his gangly crew. To be fair, he does have nagging privileges since it does fall under Tony’s responsibility, but just because he tells him to do something doesn’t mean he’s going to do it. At least not whole-heartedly (or right away, for that matter). Actually, if he’s going to be frank, he knows where they are. He just hasn’t been feeling like sharing that little tidbit with the general. Nothing personal, but he doesn't like or trust him very much. Plus, he wants to see if he can resolve the issue on his own first. He is, after all, the only person he can really rely on at the end of the day. He also has some fences he wants to mend – specifically fences he wants to mend with a young woman who he may or may not have tried to Rapunzel. (Look, he realizes he could have dealt with it better, but it had to be done.)

So now Tony Stark finds himself in Wakanda on a “friendly” visit. Nothing that will warrant much suspicion from the public’s eye and nothing that will garner surprise from the ones within. (He made a phone call beforehand.) He’s here on a truce. He wants to talk. First to Steve; then to Wanda. He mentioned his intention for the former, but he’s kept the latter to himself. He’s going to have to catch her when they’re alone. Not a simple task, but he doubts she would be willing to give him the time of day otherwise. He is going to have to catch her unaware. (She’s another obstinate one.) And, since the matter with Steve isn’t something that can be settled within a day, he’s here for a couple. (Three, to be exact.) Does he think he’ll be able to get through to him? No, probably not. But he can still try. It’s all he can do because he’s going to have to give Ross results sooner or later. He knows the guy already has more than a few eyes on his every movement. (Kind of cute, actually; which was why he made sure to subtly take care of whatever the man had on him before he entered the nation.)

It’s nightfall when he finally gets the opportunity to approach Wanda. His nerves are starting to kill him. Anxiety issues. Nothing new, nothing he can’t ignore. He just doesn’t like where this is going to lead, mainly because he never likes where their discussions end up taking them. She seriously hates him – something they both ironically have in common and nothing he would blame her for. He doesn’t have much time to do this, yet he doesn’t want to dump everything he has to say on her. It wouldn’t be fair and it wouldn’t be very smart either. He needs to approach this tentatively, especially since the image of her in the Raft's prison cell is still so fresh in his memory. It’s been haunting him for months.

Okay. First step, assess the mood. Second step, gradual buildup into the topic based on mood analysis and the directional flow of the conversation. Third, don’t be an ass.]

Hey. [He has a cup of coffee in his hand, freshly brewed and a viable shield against whatever tense, angry, or cold reaction he’s going to receive from her.] We haven’t gotten the chance to talk all day. [He hesitates for a split second and then:] How are you?

for (sanction)

[hext]

[ from here. ]



[ Wanda puffs air into his collar as he shifts her around, feeling a little perturbed simply by the ether of all time and space (as much sense as that makes), until he speaks. She blinks, eyes focusing with better clarity, feels time become linear again, if for a few moments. One index finger pokes at the scruff on his jaw, very close to her face. ]

You remembered, [ murmured with pleasant surprise, referring to privately exchanged terminology, to his own memories becoming tangible, any number of things ] yes, yes. Echoes in my veins tonight. [ She draws her fingertip slowly away from his face, unfazed as he has to momentarily maneuver them around a stack of boxes she'd recently (perhaps even a few hours ago) pulled out of a closet. Unlabeled. Familiar scent of someone's clothes she'd never disposed of. ] You have them too, sometimes, you said. Still.

[ It's difficult to shrug in her current position, but she manages at least one shoulder's effort. ]

It's because I'm full of other people. And Patrón. [ She pauses, considering. ] Steve's little bird bones. I see them, sometimes. He still has them, you know.

for (accelerate)

[hext]

[ from here. ]

# slices depends on 1) pizza quality, 2) if you can manage not to get lost again, and 3) my magic 8 ball

[ any longer than 3 minutes and the pizza is free, no boxer-briefs payment, FLASH DELIVERY GUARANTEE. ]

[accelerate]

1) The best.

2) That was ONE TIME and it wasn't my fault.

3) Your magic 8 ball is biased.

Final offer: I want half the pizza and the delivery ETA is legit 2mins and under.

[hext]

1) proof is in the slice
2) i can't fault you for your own ADHD tendencies?
3) *discerning, fixed

you are required to feed the other half to me. feeling sunday lazy. clock starts now.

[accelerate]

Wan

[ barry's gone running. running to the other side of the city to grab the best pizza (by the oceanside, jsyk), to deliver it to wanda's where he leaves it on the table. if she opens it, she'll find there's only half the pizza inside of it. he has the other half in another box with the intention of holding it for ransom. ]

1 min 24 secs NOT EVEN :)

[hext]

[ fsldkfjlskj-- ]

GET BACK HERE

B A R

[accelerate]

R Y

Barry is the best, I know. 😇

What's up, Wanda?

[hext]

what exactly do you think you're doing

[accelerate]

Talking to my BFF, Wanda.

Do you know her? She's a giver. Gives me food because she's amazing.

[hext]

from what i hear, she's also a notorious underwear thief
you might not want to test her

[accelerate]

I think I'll take my chances with this kleptomaniac. I have this feeling she just wants to see me naked. She keeps talking all my clothes??

[hext]

you may not be entirely wrong

either way, pizza's cold
points off

for (01110110)

[hext]

[ She dreams.

Two weeks since the jailbreak from The Raft, and they are holed up like a group of stray dogs in a shed outside an abandoned farm in Canada. Steve says their final destination is in a much warmer climate; Wanda satisfies herself with this, despite the temptation to peel back layers for just a bit more information.

She is cold, and tired, and investigating requires resources of energy she no longer has. For once, it isn't difficult to sleep, and though she dreads it... yes, she dreams.

A low, humming warmth takes tangible form beside her, familiar. A child. A man. The shape of him triggers pain, guilt. It is the intimate nature of the hand wrapped around hers that stirs her subconscious to focus. Synthetic, scarlet skin lays in contrast against her own. She turns her head — his eyes greet hers, blue, clear, penetrating. ]

...Vis.

[01110110]

[ Do androids dream of electric sheep? Do they dream at all? Perhaps a more average android would not, but the mind stone which powers this synthezoid is unpredictable at best, so the Vision dreams.

Or perhaps there's something else at play here, some measure of guilt or longing, for he finds himself with the one person whom his subconscious is occupied with at all times: ] Wanda.

[ His clear blue eyes take in her appearance for a long moment, before he blinks. He isn't sure what mechanism is at play here, causing him to see her, but he can't find it in himself to argue with the semantics. ]

I have... missed you. [ He confesses, voice quiet and even in the darkness of wherever he's found himself. If this is a dream, or if it's reality, no matter what he still must be honest. ]

shrug i'll put it here?

[freights]

[ so, this time, he doesn't take two weeks. he takes more than a couple of hours, because he's perpetually exhausted and uncommunicative, and he's uncertain if reaching out will contribute to their ... volatility. but the more he thinks on it, the more he feels like an ass for lashing out at someone attempting to show him a kindness.

like he's a stray mutt accustomed to beatings by the hand that feeds.

but it's that evening when he texts. the sun's going down. he's re-read their exchange at least thirty times, wondering if his thoughts are projecting. ]

what do you like better
insomnia cookies or chipotle?

don't u shrug at me

[hext]

[ he can stop wondering. he was projecting.
then again, so was she, earlier. she'd admitted as much.

if she could simply drop an iron curtain between their minds... he should be familiar with those, shouldn't he?

wanda reads his text, debates not answering. she, too, is exhausted.

a compromise: no text, just an img attachment. ]

[freights]

[ well, now he's projecting a glimmer of wry amusement. maybe a little relief. he wasn't entirely sure she'd answer. ]

fair.
i'm sending you delivery

you like almond milk in your mocha
that mean you want a veggie burrito? sofritas?

[hext]

don't you dare. i want steak. real murdered cow.

[freights]

roger that.
had me a little worried.

anyway give it about 30 minutes
i took care of the tip

you'll have to trust my judgment on the cookie selection

[hext]

you are really buying me dinner?
and not coming with it?

[freights]

well, i didn't want to invite myself over.
it's an apology

[hext]

you are a moron.

call them and edit the order. add food for yourself.
we can both apologize by looking each other in the eye and having a meal.

[ for two people who can't mentally shake each other, they are almost hellbent on purposefully misunderstanding one another. perhaps it's a defense mechanism. some sort of subconscious last ditch effort to distort whatever bond they have, otherwise. ]

[freights]

[ tapping a vibranium index finger on the corner of his phone, he hesitates, considers. ]

maybe i think it's better if i don't
for now

something about you makes it hard for me to think straight

[ when they're alone, especially. and in her room, sitting on sheets they tangled in just nights ago. ]

and you don't owe me an apology

[hext]

don't i?

[ it's not the cool, mysterious response it might look like via text. her diaphragm does interesting, acrobatic things, with him sliding admissions like that unprompted out into the universe. she's neither cool nor mysterious nor particularly fond of the way her pulse throbs in her ear. it's one thing to sense it, but when the owner of that thought names the truth —

so he does the same to her. that much is clear. but none of this is what she would apologize for.

it's everything preceding this.
the lost opportunity to learn each other one inflection at a time. ]