[ In a motel room made of glowing eyes and shifting darkness, a mass of tiny tentacles halts suddenly, illuminated by the soft blue glow of the candybar-style cellphone grasped by a different tendril of undulating flesh.
Then they continue, the dozens of appendages hitting the numpad keys with perfect, coordinated speed. ]
[ The mass of shadows shudders. Wings stretch in the darkness, claws scrape against the floor. Writhing arms with a hundred hands splay against the wall as the phone's light illuminates a shifting, scaled torso.
Desperate? Hey– ]
You texted me?
[ Tentacles zip along the "back" key, scroll up, navigate to missed calls. A dozen mismatched eyes narrow. Called and texted. Suckered tendrils flip back to texts, with a speedy– ]
Nothing going on. Although I am curious how you got my number.
[ Because he's definitely 100% not desperate, he doesn't reply during the minutes-long delay, and definitely 100% doesn't juggle the phone back and forth between shadowed limbs as he turns it off and on, checking for a glowing reply in the otherwise pitch-dark room. ]
Yeah. Sorry, know it must've been a lot to take in.
[ There it is. Witch. The pitch-black mass of writhing limbs exhales with a series of pulsing lungs. ]
The Scarlet Witch.
[ A beat between texts. Here and now, without the urgency her presence in front of him, he does feel responsibility for the worlds of weight he's about lay squarely on a young woman's shoulders.
But that young woman is Wanda Maximoff. And as Stephen has learned over his long years of existence, no universe is particularly fair. ]
You're right. I don't mind you knowing. But that's only because if you don't, then you might not be able to avoid the darkest path ahead of you.
[ Like he didn't, even with the warnings of ancients to guide him. A jagged shard through his hundred chests. Another pause. ]
So the question stands. Do you want me to tell you?
( this feels... foreboding, almost. like something she isn't meant to know at all—forbidden knowledge, drawn up to her attention by some person she barely met. a person that, when she thinks about him, makes her stomach churn, the collection of whatever he bears inside himself a nauseating sensation for her.
when he says there is a 'darkest path' ahead of her still, wanda can't help but be morbidly curious. what could be worse than what she has faced so far, after she has lost everything?
her response comes in a lot later, sorting through what she wants and doesn't want. )
tell me about her.
( 'the scarlet witch', that which she isn't, yet, but he's met before in some other alternate world. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Then they continue, the dozens of appendages hitting the numpad keys with perfect, coordinated speed. ]
Hey, good to hear from you. How you holding up?
no subject
why are you texting like that?
( she's also not the most socially responsive person ever. )
no subject
[ Way too quickly, for one thing. ]
1/2
( way too quickly )
no subject
( wanda!! she's absconding. )
no subject
Desperate? Hey– ]
You texted me?
[ Tentacles zip along the "back" key, scroll up, navigate to missed calls. A dozen mismatched eyes narrow. Called and texted. Suckered tendrils flip back to texts, with a speedy– ]
Nothing going on. Although I am curious how you got my number.
no subject
( she got lucky, but this is not something she's going to admit. it's not like it matters, anyway.
and, several minutes later, she sends another text, )
i was thinking about what you said.
everything that you said , in general.
no subject
Yeah. Sorry, know it must've been a lot to take in.
no subject
( the fact that he had immediately clocked her by saying her name, saying that he knew her, of her powers, 'when' she came from. )
what was that that you called me? the witch thing?
( here. we. go. )
no subject
The Scarlet Witch.
[ A beat between texts. Here and now, without the urgency her presence in front of him, he does feel responsibility for the worlds of weight he's about lay squarely on a young woman's shoulders.
But that young woman is Wanda Maximoff. And as Stephen has learned over his long years of existence, no universe is particularly fair. ]
You're right. I don't mind you knowing. But that's only because if you don't, then you might not be able to avoid the darkest path ahead of you.
[ Like he didn't, even with the warnings of ancients to guide him. A jagged shard through his hundred chests. Another pause. ]
So the question stands. Do you want me to tell you?
no subject
when he says there is a 'darkest path' ahead of her still, wanda can't help but be morbidly curious. what could be worse than what she has faced so far, after she has lost everything?
her response comes in a lot later, sorting through what she wants and doesn't want. )
tell me about her.
( 'the scarlet witch', that which she isn't, yet, but he's met before in some other alternate world. )