bakerstreet | may-december

(voice testing)

[ ooc; so here for this. ]

[Walking through a literal tear in reality is not one of his usual methods of long distance travel, but Nathan is nothing if not adaptable. It helps that the world he steps into is, so far as he can tell, one massive battlefield.

It's chaos: bolts of plasma fly from alien weaponry wielded by alien hands, whips of golden energy snap around him, and the ground shakes as artillery fire rains down from the sky, blowing wherever — and whoever — it hits to bits. This is ignoring the massive army of aliens and superhumans running around.

Obviously Wade loves it, and it doesn't take long for him, Nathan and Neena to get into the swing of things once all three of them quickly determine which side is which and make an informed decision on who to back and why. A universe-destroying weapon in the hands of a genocidal tyrant is a very good incentive.

They split up, Nathan pushing forward while Wade and Neena go off to help play keep-away with said universe-destroying weapon. Through the plasmafire, something powerful calls out to him. He feels it burning at the edges of his brain like a brushfire, and he's too blindsided by it to say that he knows where it's coming from, but not self-controlled enough to say that he doesn't recognize it as fury incarnate.

The trail takes him up the remains of what used to be the fourth floor of a building, right up to the edge of the drop-off. Below him, fires rage as a woman lobs bolts of red psionic energy at a massive humanoid in battle armor too ceremonial to mark him as a foot soldier. The genocidal tyrant, he presumes as he watches the alien parry a bolt with his double-bladed sword. He's a sturdy motherfucker, Nathan'll give him that.

He makes his entrance by dropping off the edge of the building and using his techno-organic arm to cushion the impact, landing right between them, his infected eye blazing amber as he looks up at the armored alien. All of this right as Wade zips by overhead with a kid dressed like a spider, hollering, "Wooo, superhero landing!"

Ignoring him, Nathan pushes his way into Wanda's mind, projecting a single word into it as he staggers Thanos with a concentrated blast of telekinesis:

Together.]

Edited 2020-12-25 02:26 (UTC)

[That was over half a year ago. He's no closer to returning home now as he was then.

The former Avengers Tower in New York City is the only place the old owners have left that remotely passes for a base, and the only place a group of multiverse displaced guests can crash until this mess is sorted out. That's not X-Force's style at all, but the sorcerer had been insistent. Now that the Avengers' old leader was dead and buried along with X-Force's only way back to their world, Nathan wondered if he was the new leader. Him or the king of Wakanda. Or the big green guy. Or the raccoon.

One thing he is sure of though is that it's hard as fuck to do anything here without one of them breathing down his neck, which makes getting anything productive done more difficult than it should be. About the only thing he can do that doesn't require a chaperone (whom he ends up promptly ditching anyway without so much as a grunt, unlike Wade who has to be a brat about it) is meditation. Tonight's a good night for it. It's raining outside and the water sounds like pebbles as it hits the skylight in his room. It's soothing; through breathing and focus, he can lull his heartbeat to fall into rhythm with it.

He's suspended a few feet off his bed, hanging upside down, his infected eye glowing gold under his eyelid. Underneath the rain, he can hear so much more in and around the tower, from the scattered thoughts of the pedestrians walking the streets outside, to the guilty, sneaky unease in Scott Lang's head as he tries to even out the marks he's made in Sam Wilson's pint of Chip Happens to hide his tracks. A typical night with these guys.

And then, beyond that, he sees something in his mind's eye that looks like a flame, flickering a floor below his, and hears something almost as loud as the combined sounds of the rain, and the traffic, and Scott Lang's stupid internalized guilt as he ends up taking another spoonful of ice cream and having to even that out.

With little effort, Nathan reaches out to the flame and pushes his way inside it, bringing a wave of calm with him that he tries to smooth over Wanda's mind.]

«You're thinking loudly tonight.» [His voice in Wanda's head is much like his speaking voice — quiet, deep and neutral. This could almost pass for conversational.]

( With the mighty snap of Bruce Banner’s fingers, those previously snapped away reappear once more. Wanda is collapsed on the ground deep within the jungles of Wakanda, mourning over where the lifeless body of Vision once laid five years ago, but her arms are empty. An unhinged feral scream escapes her lips — the raw emotion of losing Vision on top of the lingering feeling of death ravages Wanda’s already delicate emotions.

Pushing herself to stand, she groans, her body still aching from being thrown by Thanos only moments before (at least this is how it appears in her mind). As she goes to take a step, the unmistakable sound of a portal opening catches her attention; turning around, she is greeted by the familiar face of Stephen Strange.

The bubbling of emotions begins to swell within her as the sorcerer gives Wanda the abridged version of everything that has happened since they ceased to exist before opening a new portal to the battlefield. Whatever emotions she was feeling previously are replaced with pure rage — her heart pounding within her chest, breath shaken, and eyes begin to glow as she is engulfed in a red psionic aura.

Wanda readies herself on the battlefield, surrounded by friends and allies as they fight for their lives, and the state of the universe rests on their shoulders once more. The hoards are meaningless to her; she quickly disposes of them as she surveys the battlefield for her intended target, Thanos.

With a thrust of her powers, Wanda takes to the air, eager for a better advantage point where she spots T’Challa cradling the gauntlet, dodging enemies until he meets Thanos’ double-bladed sword and collapses to the ground. Seeing this as the moment she has been waiting for, Wanda swoops in — coming between her ally and Thanos, giving the kind time to escape with the gauntlet.

Raw energy and fury radiated from her as she stares at the monster before her — whatever self-control she has left within her is gathered to compose herself. )

You took everything from me, ( her voice quivering with the emotions raging through her only to be met with Thanos admitting to not knowing who she is. She does not believe him, not realizing that the tyrant before her is from a different timeline. Just as her lips part to reply, an unfamiliar figure lands between them — energy pulsing in her hands as her fury rises, but that quickly subsides as caught off guard by the unfamiliar sensation of someone invading her mind. Momentarily she stares in disbelief as she watches the strange man begin to attack Thanos.

Together, his voice echoes in her mind.

A small bit of hope begins to swell within her as she nods, her mind tentatively reaching out to touch his own before replying — a psionic blast clashing against the tyrant before she manipulates a large bolder to hit him with her other.

Together. )

Edited 2020-12-25 06:28 (UTC)

( Leaning against the window, Wanda presses her forehead against the cool glass, her eyes closed as she enjoys the sound of the rain and wind in the night.

It is hard to believe that six months have passed since that fateful battle against Thanos; Tony’s funeral still vivid in her mind as she allows it to wander. She hates how death seems to follow her, nipping at her heels as she tries to avoid it. First her parents, the countless people she murdered while a puppet of H.Y.D.R.A., innocents of Sakovia along with the world-shattering death of her twin brother, then the catastrophe at Lagos that she felt was wholly her fault, having to witness Vision dying not only once but twice, and then the loss of Tony.

She is not sure how much more she can endure before she unravels completely.

In a way to relax and almost meditate herself, Wanda allows her mind to wander, flinting between the scattered thoughts of the tower as she tries to fend off her own corrosive thoughts. She pauses in her mind-surfing as she feels the familiar presence of Nathan’s mind mingling with her own. )

｟ Or you are just nosey, ｠ ( she gently teases, her native accent still lingers to her mental voice which is warm and welcoming — almost enticing as she shares her thoughts with him. The calmness Nathan is something Wanda grasps onto; it gives her something to ground herself with since she often feels like she’s fraying at the edges. )

｟ I hope I’m not too distracting; it can be hard to hear myself think with so many around. ｠

[Nathan hums in Wanda's head.]

« Never said it was a bad thing. »

[Most of the time, entering Wanda's head is comfortable, like slipping on a warm glove. She doesn't have a healing factor like Wade so her thoughts aren't an incomprehensible wall of static as the neurons in her brain break and remake themselves, and they aren't fidgety like most humans who aren't used to telepathy. As a telepath herself, she knows which shields to keep up and which ones to drop, and she doesn't instinctively shy away from the feeling of Nathan's voice in her head.

That being said, her mind can be a difficult place to be in at times. Just because her thoughts are legible doesn't mean they aren't jagged; at times, even chaotic. The two of them have an arrangement where they give each other room inside one another's heads, not going any further than the other is comfortable with. Wanda's mental shields are so strong that Nathan doesn't have to try very hard.

But every so often, the wall starts to crack and something slips out — something mournful and aching, so potent that he feels it in the back of his throat. That too, like her anger, is familiar. It's also one of the reasons why he feels so at home in her head.]

« At least you're not whining about why you don't have your own ice cream flavor, » [he adds dryly. If Wanda is loud, Scott is louder. Nathan can hear him downstairs, trying to think of different names for a hypothetical Ant-Man flavor. It's every bit as pathetic as it sounds.]

Edited 2020-12-25 10:13 (UTC)

( Wanda chuckles softly, both internally and externally, before opening her eyes — the gentle red glow behind them as she uses her abilities. It isn't hard to find Scott as she allows her mind to wander, laughing a little more as he excitedly thinks about his own brand of ice cream. )

｟ Neapolitant is my favorite so far. ｠

( Having never encountered another telepath before, Wanda was surprised when Nathan easily slipped into her mind — it wasn't an unwelcome feeling, but something she had never experienced before. Since then, she has done her best to keep things orderly within her mind, but it can be hard considering her chaotic nature and the way her abilities are.

Feeling unwanted emotions and thoughts can be rough for another person to experience. He seemed to take those slip-ups in stride — something she is ever thankful for and one of the many reasons she doesn't mind sharing such an intimate space with him. It helps that they harbor the same emotions within them, which gives her comfort knowing that she isn't alone in feeling the way she does and that someone else understands.

At times, Wanda almost falls into old habits. To go peeking into places, she doesn't belong or manipulate something, so he doesn't feel the harsh emotions he has buried within him and replace them with something better. Though the temptation is great, she knows better, understanding the need for space and that most people don't enjoy others in their heads. )

｟ Any advancements on getting the Temporal Dial working again? ｠ ( Briefly there is a pang of loneliness and sadness caused by the thought of him leaving, but she does her best to push it inside — it is selfish to feel this way knowing he has a family to return to. )

[He picks up on a shadow of loneliness, but it flees back into the darker corners of Wanda's mind before he can fully grasp it. Considering the question it followed, Nathan can make a pretty good guess on what the source is. Maybe even a great one.

That's just one of the many reasons why him being here makes things... difficult. For everyone. Back home, he just had being out of his own time to worry about. Now that he's stacked being from a completely different world on top of that, you can't really look at him — or Wade, or Neena — without wondering when he's going to go back. Everbody addresses that elephant in the room sooner or later. Wanda's just one of the few people who actually looks at it as a sad thing.]

« The timeslide mechanism still can't hold a charge. Pym's working with T'Challa's sister to see if they can fix that. »

[In the beginning, the idea of handing the Dial — Graymalkin — over to be toyed with bothered him much more than he let on. Other than Hope's teddy bear, it was the only connection he had left to his time. That Pym, a man who seems so self-important that Nathan could see him complaining about not having his own ice cream flavor, is asking for help with this means he's getting desperate. He's got Banner around, but quantum physics aren't in that man's wheelhouse, and besides, everybody says that Nathan shouldn't ask for Banner's help anyway. Something about him accidentally turning Scott into a baby.]

« And multiverse travel is still off the table. » [Nathan's thoughts are as tired as his mental voice sounds, dampened by resignation.] « Could be awhile before we hear about that. »

[Because that's in nobody's wheelhouse except maybe Stark's. Nathan heard that he was the one who refined the time travel tech the Avengers used to save their universe, and he was the one to fix baby-Scott. He could probably figure out how to fix this, too.

But Stark is dead. Nathan lingers on the thought for a second before stuffing it away. That's about as long as he can afford when he's mindlinked to Wanda, and even then there's no real certainty that she won't pick up on it.]

( With the life Wanda has lived, it is hard to ignore Nathan's lingering thoughts on Tony's death — especially with how intertwined their minds are — he has likely picked up on her mind lingering on all the deaths and loneliness that she has experienced over the years.

She remains silent for a significant amount of time ( likely enough to be considered awkward silence ), but she stays present in his mind as she mulls over Tony's death and the immense loss they have suffered as a result. It was almost ironic that the man responsible for the technology that killed her parents and many others in her hometown somehow ended up being a father figure to her, even if she didn't realize it at the time. While she didn't agree with him at the time, Tony did what he could to protect her and provide for her. )

｟ It's hard to believe we live in a world without Tony Stark. There was a time in my life where I gave everything to see him dead, and here I am — six months after his death and still mourning.

I'm certain with everyone putting their minds together and doing everything they can, it is only a matter of time before they can fix it. ｠

( That pang resurfaces again, possibly lingering a bit longer before Wanda pushes it aside once more. There is also a bit of embarrassment for how desperate she might look for how attached she's become to him. Though, with how freely they share their minds and how intimate of a thing it is — at least in her perspective — it would be hard not to become attached. Aside from Clint and Bucky, Nathan is the closest she has to something, and she isn't sure what that something is yet.

It seems that everyone she has ever shared a close bond with end up leaving her in one form or another, and that stings enough she winces slightly as she tries to keep back the thoughts and memories that come with the pain. The loss of her parents, joining H.Y.D.R.A. to get revenge on Tony Stark, the loss of her brother and Vision, along with the loss of Tony and due to Steve's time shenanigans, she has almost lost him as well. It's enough turmoil that she tears herself away from the window to begin pacing around her room as she tries to calm her thoughts. )

Edited 2020-12-26 08:15 (UTC)

[Wanda's thoughts are burning up. That's the easiest tell that her anxiety is taking a turn for the worse. Nathan remembers the first time he met her, how far her psionic aura reached him across the remains of what used to be the Avengers' compound, and how it felt like fire. Even now, that same powerful aura is still there, smoldering in the background.

He sends another wave of calm through Wanda's mind, like applying aloe to a burn. There's a lot of things he could tell her right now. It's all right, seems like the safest bet, but it still rings hollow. He can jury-rig a grenade launcher out of a shotgun and some spare appliance parts, and perform battlefield surgery with telekinesis, but finding the right words to comfort others has never been one of his strong suits. It's only ever been easy with Hope. Everyone else gets what Aliya always called his emotionally constipated, hyper-masculine attempt at empathy.

There's a lot of things he could tell her right now, and from the way his voice in her head goes silent for a few moments, it's clear that he's assessing his options. The one he ends up going for is broached in a very tentative, neutral way.]

« Do you want to hear a secret? »

( As soon as Nathan's calming energy washes over her, Wanda slowly comes to a stop in the middle of her room; a chill running through her body as she runs her hands over her arms in an attempt to lessen the goosebumps. Shifting to her bed, she takes a seat at the edge — pulling a knee to her chest as she rests her chin against it and warps her arms around it.

He can feel a wave of gratitude wash over her and onto him from his attempt to quell her smoldering thoughts. Having someone able to ground her like this is something that she's greatly missed; Pietro was that person for her (even when his thoughts were father than he was, but he still managed to bring her the calm and clarity she needed when her thoughts became as chaotic as her powers).

The silence that often falls between them never bothers her, knowing that he's there is enough, and sometimes that's all she needs. A soft smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she plucks at a few rogue strands of fabric hanging from the sleeve of her sweater. )

｟ Always. ｠

[Downstairs, Scott groans in his head, whining you gotta be kidding me! so loudly it makes Nathan wince. He's googling the Ben & Jerry's catalog from his phone, looking at all the different flavors every Avenger's gotten before him. Black Cherry Widow and Waffle Falcone Crunch hurt, but not as badly as Strawberry Cheesecake Fury. He's not even an Avenger!

Well, at least his timing is impeccable.]

« I've only had ice cream once. »

[The memory Nathan nudges into Wanda's head is vivid and clear like the playback of a film. In it, a fully costumed Wade Wilson chows down on a waffle cone piled high with vanilla ice cream, fudge sauce, nuts and sprinkles. Just looking at it is enough to get your teeth aching. His mask pulled up halfway over his face, he licks the chocolate from his lips as he turns to Nathan and offers him a try, who takes the cone like it's made of glass and could shatter in his grip. Nathan sniffs at it before giving it a tentative lick.

From the tears that prick his eyes to the way his face twists like a cat who's been tricked into eating a lemon, to the outraged gasp from Wade when the cone and all its ice cream splatters on the ground, it's safe to say that he wasn't prepared for that much flavor. The memory dissipates right when phantom-Natham storms off to find some water, replaced with a lingering feeling of embarrassment from the real one as he does the telepathic equivalent of clearing his throat.]

( A spark of amusement begins to grow within Wanda as she listens to Scott's dismay over not having his own ice cream flavor and does her best not to roll her eyes too hard before her attention is drawn back to Nathan.

The amusement is replaced with some disbelief as the amusement rises again, eagerly witnessing his experience with ice cream. Her lips find their way between her teeth, a small snort managing to sneak through. She collects herself at the feeling of his embarrassment, though her amusement at his experience continues to linger. )

｟ I'm surprised you tried it after him; I don't think Wade owns a toothbrush.

Ice cream was a luxury we rarely had when growing up; the local supermarket never stocked... I think the first time I had it was — ｠

( Wanda shifts through her memories before settling on one where she is a young child, happily holding onto her brother's hand as they wait in line with their parents to get served. Remembering that Pietro said she needed to eat a whole spoonful before it melted, and as soon as Wanda was given her cup, that's what she did.

Globbing as much of the strange chocolaty substance onto the spoon, she shoved it into her mouth — clearly overly ambitious as the spoonful was too big for her mouth, causing it to spill onto her shirt. She immediately regrets the poor choice she made. The overwhelming sweetness hitting her hard, though that was the least of her worries as the brain freeze hit, causing her to drop the cup as she cried out in pain. Attempting to rub away the ache in her head as her brother laughed at her misfortune.

A fond memory of her childhood that she had forgotten about if Nathan hadn't reminded her. )

[Nathan's mental voice is levelheaded and calm, not betraying how utterly dampened by Wanda's hurt he really is. Looking into someone isn't just understanding what they're saying. It's also understanding how they're feeling, how deeply their emotions weave through their thoughts without them even noticing. Aliya would always chide him, saying that trying to read people without their permission was rude, but it wasn't something Nathan could help sometimes. It was as natural as breathing.

Toeing through Wanda's emotions, Nathan is hit by her despair. She's past the worst of it, but not enough to not feel lonely, like she's floating down a very dark hole instead of being yanked down by her foot. It's a progression, but a slow one.]

« The first time I had it was a year ago. We don't have ice cream where I'm from. »

[Hell, they didn't even have the milk to make it. Cows had gone extinct years ago. Anything that couldn't be artificially made or scrounged up was a luxury. He remembers the first time he set foot in a 21st century supermarket, he nearly overloaded from everything he was seeing, smelling.]

« I could try it again. »

( With Wanda, Nathan doesn't have to worry about crossing any unwanted boundaries when it comes to being in her head — for him, she is virtually an open book with very little to hide and anything worth hiding he would meet resistance when trying to reach it.

It also comes as naturally as breathing water for her, so it's a relief to express this part of her that she has been suppressing for so long. None of the Avengers were too keen to use her powers freely, given their first encounter, and she respected those wishes as much as she could. However, it was rougher than she could imagine since she went from freely using her telepathic powers with her brother to hardly using them at all.

Listening to him, Wanda smiles, that happiness bubbling to the surface in her mind — warm and inviting, easily masking the negative emotions Nathan is aware of within her. )

｟ I might not be able to control the weather, but I do have two umbrellas if you want to get out of here.

There's a Baskin Robbins and a Ben and Jerry's in either direction. ｠

« I might. »

[Nathan's body begins to lower itself to the ground, no longer held by the golden thread of his thoughts. He maneuvers himself upright, landing on his feet.]

« Depends on how long it takes for you to get ready. » [Being able to mentally deadpan is a skill, not an art, and one that he's had a lifetime to master. But there's an impression of amusement in his head, like a faint undercurrent of sugar.]

Edited (typo ) 2021-01-24 23:40 (UTC)

｟ I'm already ready. ｠

( With a ~~wiggle of her nose~~ flick of her wrist Wanda's dressed for the weather and heading downstairs. She thought of teleporting — her amusement and excitement beginning to bubble — but that would be a little unfair. )

｟ If you're ever in the mood for a real treat, I hear Coldstone in Brooklyn is amazing. They fold the ingredients right into the ice cream for you, so you can pick anything you want. ｠

[Nathan hums mentally.]

« Like street gorm. »

[His reply is instinctive, but there's enough context that can be psychically gleamed from it to be able to tell that he's talking about street food. Eating real meals prepared with care and exotic ingredients is a luxury they can't afford in his time. Milk and berries and chocolate don't exist anymore. The vendors that occasionally set up shop on the streets cook with whatever they have on hand, even if it's not strictly safe for consumption, so eating anything you get from a stall or over a hot table that isn't your own is a one-way ticket to a healer.

But this isn't his time. Needless to say, Nathan's excited.

Wanda is waiting for him downstairs in the hall between the kitchen and the lounge. Scott's still there, playing on his phone, but he's not alone. Standing next to him with a hip against the counter, Wade Wilson dips his entire-ass gloved hand into a pickle jar. Sitting at the table across from them, Neena spreads peanut butter over crackers and tops them with raisins.

When Wade sees Nathan and Wanda, he pushes his mask up to his nose. "You crazy kids have fun out there." He crunches on the pickle. "Make sure you treat her right, Oh Dae-su," he tells Nathan, tilting and bobbing his head to the side like he's trying to wink at Nathan through the mask.

Domino looks up from the table and says the exact same thing Nathan says at the exact same time:]

What?

["Or Joe or Jack, or whatever Caucasian name they used in the remake." Wade flippantly waves a hand. "Was it Joe? Pretty sure it was Joe."

"Why hasn't anyone asked you who you're talking to yet?" Domino asks.

"It was Joe," Scott says after Googling it, turning to show Wade the results.

Nathan looks back at Wanda. He's wearing a black jacket and jeans and has his wraparound sunglasses in his hand. Wade calls them his steampunk pair, whatever the hell that means. They hide his TO eye better than any other glasses so he couldn't give less of a shit about what they look like.]

Ready?

Edited (typo) 2021-01-28 06:23 (UTC)

( Wanda's excitement begins to bubble, quickly grasping onto that emotion and letting the others fade away when she realizes he also enjoys street food — she'll have to take him to several of her favorite haunts like Bolivian Llama Party, The Halal Guys, and Wafels & Dinges to name a few.

Though that excitement quickly begins to dwindle as she watches Wade Wilson dipping his whole hand into the pickle jar, Wanda feels her stomach churn with disgust since that might be the pickle jar she's eaten out of. She shivers as she pushes down the urge to feel sick since she desperately wants to enjoy an evening out.

Wanda stands there in dumbfounded silence, not understanding the reference and looking between everyone as she tries piecing everything together, but feels a little better knowing she isn't the only one who doesn't get Wade's reference. )

Yeah, I'm ready.

( Wanda's dressed somewhat average compared to the more punk and goth look she goes for in a pair of jeans with a black tank-top and cardigan with its sleeves pushed up to her elbows. She also put on a pair of boots to give her a little height, their muffled thuds hitting the floor as she grabs her black and red jacket from a hook. Still, in her angsty teen goth phase, she can't judge Nathan on his sunglasses choice.

She offers out an umbrella before heading out the door. )

｟ What was all that about? ｠ ( With how busy the streets can be, even at night, Wanda finds it easier to continue talking this way. )

[Wade cackles something at them on the way out that sounds too much like "adios, señorita!" Nate replies to Wanda out loud as he closes the door, saying,] No idea, [followed by,] but you get used to it.

[Some people quicker than others. For him, it took less than six months before he learned how to stop being surprised and trying to make make sense of Wade's logic. His jokes are even worse.

Nate pushes his hood up and they head out into the rain.]

»CONTINUED.

Edited (forgot a word) 2021-02-07 03:52 (UTC)