Wanda Maximoff (
notmutantbutmiracle) wrote in
driftfleet2016-07-13 07:34 pm
A bittersweet return; Video + Action
Who: Wanda Maximoff
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Starstruck
When: Right now
[At first, the scene appears to be a relatively familiar one. That is, the typical network broadcast of a new arrival to the fleet. A communicator's video feed broadcasting a slumbering figure curled up on a ship's cot. However, a second glance and one can easily tell that this not typical at all. Instead of the Marsiva's recognizably distinct interior, this feed seems to be coming from the bunkroom aboard one of the Fleet's smaller ships. In fact, crew members of the Starstruck may find the setting quite familiar looking indeed, along with anyone else that may have paid Wanda a visit in the past.]
[The sleeping figure stirs, waking from a deep slumber with a slow sit up and stretch. The communicator's camera focuses on the individual, as she quickly recognizes that something is amiss. Wanda Maximoff looks around, startled and confused to not find herself waking up in the room she'd been given in Wakanda. However, she soon begins to recognize the room. It's her room, her bunkroom aboard the SS Starstuck. And that could only mean...]
I'm back...
[The thought vocalized out loud, her tone sounding somewhat somber, yet also a tiny bit relieved. She swings her legs out of her cot, and pads her way over to her storage locker. Checking inside, she finds all of her trinkets, clothing, and other souvenirs that she'd picked up on previous planet visits. All of them in the exact place she had left them. A new outfit also noticeably present among the garments. Her fingers gently glide over each item, as the respective memories associated with each one float back to her.]
[A moment later, she closes the locker and turns her attention back to her room. She studies the interior, looking everything over.]
All exactly as I remember it.
[She then spies the communicator perched upon a shelf, optimally poised to capture her return. She walks over to it, picking it up and holding it out in front of herself. She looks ready to address the camera yet falters for a moment. A small frown on her face, and her eyebrows furrowed as she ponders what to even say, if she should even say anything at all. But only a moment later, her expression relaxes, and a small grin replaces the frown. Looking now more bemused and her tone more playfully sarcastic, she addresses the camera.]
It's been a while. What did I miss?
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Starstruck
When: Right now
[At first, the scene appears to be a relatively familiar one. That is, the typical network broadcast of a new arrival to the fleet. A communicator's video feed broadcasting a slumbering figure curled up on a ship's cot. However, a second glance and one can easily tell that this not typical at all. Instead of the Marsiva's recognizably distinct interior, this feed seems to be coming from the bunkroom aboard one of the Fleet's smaller ships. In fact, crew members of the Starstruck may find the setting quite familiar looking indeed, along with anyone else that may have paid Wanda a visit in the past.]
[The sleeping figure stirs, waking from a deep slumber with a slow sit up and stretch. The communicator's camera focuses on the individual, as she quickly recognizes that something is amiss. Wanda Maximoff looks around, startled and confused to not find herself waking up in the room she'd been given in Wakanda. However, she soon begins to recognize the room. It's her room, her bunkroom aboard the SS Starstuck. And that could only mean...]
I'm back...
[The thought vocalized out loud, her tone sounding somewhat somber, yet also a tiny bit relieved. She swings her legs out of her cot, and pads her way over to her storage locker. Checking inside, she finds all of her trinkets, clothing, and other souvenirs that she'd picked up on previous planet visits. All of them in the exact place she had left them. A new outfit also noticeably present among the garments. Her fingers gently glide over each item, as the respective memories associated with each one float back to her.]
[A moment later, she closes the locker and turns her attention back to her room. She studies the interior, looking everything over.]
All exactly as I remember it.
[She then spies the communicator perched upon a shelf, optimally poised to capture her return. She walks over to it, picking it up and holding it out in front of herself. She looks ready to address the camera yet falters for a moment. A small frown on her face, and her eyebrows furrowed as she ponders what to even say, if she should even say anything at all. But only a moment later, her expression relaxes, and a small grin replaces the frown. Looking now more bemused and her tone more playfully sarcastic, she addresses the camera.]
It's been a while. What did I miss?

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Being a pirate and all. [She adds with a smile and a wink. See Nami? She can tease, too.]
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[A little more teasing.]
But I can imagine it would be rather lonely out there all by yourself. Looking for a crew then?
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More crew would totally be welcome. I often come out here with a friend or two to help me sail. Makes things easier. Have you been sailing?
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I have not. Afraid I would not be much use to you there.
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[She grins.] I can sail without help, it's okay. Wanna learn?
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You'd teach me? Sure you want to take a novice out on the ocean?
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All right then. Will the two of us really be enough?
[Having never gone sailing, Wanda is legitimately unsure of how much manpower exactly is needed. Or, obviously, much else of what it takes to take a boat out on the water.]
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[Though Nami maintains a high situational awareness. It'll be okay.]
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All right. When can we start?
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Sounds like a plan. All right. I'll meet you tomorrow then?
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Should I bring anything then?
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[She may be having too much fun playing sail guide this week.]
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Where should I meet you?
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What time should I expect you?
[It's unlikely that Wanda would be the one to keep Nami waiting, as she is rather excited to try sailing for the first time. Still, she asks anyways.]
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Ten o'clock. I will see you then.
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