driftfleet | "My mind's like a deadly disease..."

Entry tags:

"My mind's like a deadly disease..."

Who: Wanda Maximoff
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Starstruck
When: Now

Broadcast - Text

[Wanda's presence, both in the Fleet's comms and aboard its vessels, has dwindled, slowly but surely, over the course of the past month. There was period of time, around the beginning of the month, when she couldn't be found or reached at all--save for by Misty, Vision and Pietro. More perceptive fleet members might recall that her disappearance occurred around the time that rumors of a dragon and its rider terrorizing Solrius were circulating about. However, she did pop back up a little while later, seemingly as though nothing was wrong. However, those that know her well may have picked up the subtle tells that there was something she was not saying. Something that she was trying to bury. And so, she became more and more scarce around the Fleet. At least, until now...]

What do you think happens after death?

[The message is short and simple. Anyone familiar with the festivities of the month of October, perhaps this is simply her way of trying to get into the spirit of things?]

Starstruck - Action

[Friends and shipmates of Wanda's, if they want to go looking for her, will find her either holed up in her bunkroom aboard the Starstruck, or in a corner of the ship's kitchen or shuttle bay at times she thinks no one would typically wander in. By the look on her face, it is clear something is troubling her.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

["Monsters..." The word always seemed to follow Wanda wherever she goes. While it's plainly clear the word is currently not being used in reference to her, it ease the pain and fear of what's just been said. The word's connection to recent events for her... it's very troubling.]

Colorless and cold, but not black and empty?

Between the three... it seems only one of three is desirable. One in three. Not very good odds.

No, not black and empty.

Just chaotic, mostly.

The odds aren't great, but... hell's harder to get into than you'd think.

As long as you don't go trying to jump into it or sell your soul, you're alright.

[A slight pause as she briefly considers whether or not she should send this question, but her curiosity ultimately gets the better of her it seems. However, the words end up coming out more like an accusation than a question.]

You sound as though you have had experience with each.

[He doesn't really... talk about it much.

But he doesn't mind at least admitting his knowledge. Hinting is enough.]

You could say that, yeah.

I've been caught up in plans of beings who are in charge of the three, unfortunately.

Who are in charge of the three? You mean--

[She'll let him fill in the obvious blanks.]

Not sure if Purgatory has a real person in charge... Heaven used to have God, but he's been MIA. The angels mostly deal with that. And there's an annoying British asshole of a demon who leads Hell.

It's weird to think about too deeply.

[This... this was just a lot. Wanda's not sure whether to take the response seriously.]

Are you playing with me?

[The question is a little biting in tone, but, well, it seemed a fair question.]

Sorry?

No, of course not. I mean, I know it all sounds pretty crazy, but - it's how life is, back home.

[A slight pause as Wanda processes her response.]

I have just never heard those places and those that run them described in such a unique way.

[It was like the word "unique" was the one she'd been hung up on typing as she lacked a better way to describe what it was like to hear Sam's explanation.]

Ah... yeah... I'm sorry, you're right. I forget that — with my lifestyle, in my world, things are kind of crazy-sounding. I've been getting used to a lot of off-the-wall stuff here, I forget that my world is still nuts.

And what kind of "lifestyle" allows one to become so familiar with the rulers of heaven and hell?

[It's meant to be a playful question, but she's also, naturally, rather curious.]

I'm a hunter. Like... I investigate the paranormal and monsters, mostly when it comes to suspicious murders. I'm pretty well acquainted with all kinds of weird crap because of that. Hell and Heaven, too. I've visited both.

So in addition to purgatory, you've been to hell AND heaven. Seems you've covered the gambit then.

A hunter, huh? How exactly does one enter into that profession?

Seems so, yeah...

My father was a hunter, and he taught us. He got into it because something supernatural attacked my family when I was a baby. That's usually how it happens, really. You don't really think about things like that existing until it comes after you.

Family business then. I suppose that makes sense.

Does it pay well?

Oh. Um.

We don't charge for it, or anything. It's - on the house?

[they're broke constantly and use credit card fraud ok]

[Sam can't tell from the other side of this screen, but this conversation was starting to bring back something that Wanda had been without for what felt like a while now -- humor. There's a small smile on her face that is slowly growing warmer.]

So how exactly do you make a living then?

Oh, you know. Credit card fraud, hustling pool.

Normal, everyday ways of making money.

Your father teach you those as well or are they a self-developed skill set?

[Sam doesn't know it, but he's talking to a former pickpocket and thief. Growing up with little means to provide for one's self, Pietro and Wanda both picked up skills that enabled them to survive.]

Little bit of both.

My dad couldn't use a computer to save his life. Technology didn't work with him, but I had a knack for it. He drove me crazy just trying to teach him how to use e-mails.

So not really a profession with legitimate pay, no notoriety, and it requires a certain talent for illegal activities.

Why do it?

At first? Because I had to.

But, um. I like helping people, I guess. Keeping them safe.

Safer than my family, anyway, you know? Someone needs to look out for people who can't defend themselves.

[There's a small pause as Wanda takes a moment to think over Sam's words.]

I do know.

[Another pause. This one a little longer before her next message appears on the screen.]

Does it ever feel futile? There's so much death that happens everyday. So many lives lost that couldn't be protected. How do you keep going? Doing what you do?

I drag myself through the dark 'til my legs work, and keep going forward.

Even if you can't save everything, you save something. It's worth it.

[It's all quiet on Wanda's side again. Sam's words having rekindled a memory of her's. A scene of the young girl sitting on the edge of a bed. The TV blaring its charges against her. "What sort of authority does an enhanced individual like Wanda Maximoff have to operate in Lagos?" The TV cutting off as Steve Rodgers walks over to join her. A shared responsibility between the two, a shared guilt. "This job..." he'd said, "Try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn't mean everyone. If we can't find a way to live with that, then maybe next time no one gets saved."]

You may have a point there.

Thank you.

We have been chatting this whole time, and I do not even know your name.

"My mind's like a deadly disease..."

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