#wanda 1

"I haven't been avoiding you," Pietro announced. He felt her footsteps more than heard them, knew it was her without any sound at all, knew it the way he knew his own heartbeat. "See, I can read minds too," he said, smirking as he turned around. He slammed his locker shut and turned to face her. "But I really haven't. I've been busy, I got put on an assignment. Because I've been behaving like a good stupid little Avenger. You should be proud, actually."

"Daughter of Max," Thor bellowed, approaching her with arms open. "How wonderful it is to be graced with your presence!" He wanted to be extra warm, welcoming, considering what had happened betwixt her and his brother. He did not have the details, but he knew Loki well enough. Nor was it the first time such a thing had occurred. "Do you wish to dance?" he asked, gesturing to the floor where several Midgardians were already partaking. "I am not used to this type of music, but it is quite... interesting. We have nothing like it on Asgard. Stark has promised to burn me a... CD?" He shook his head, extending a hand. "Whatever that means. Regardless. Dance with me," he asked, grinning broadly.

Despite the new amendments to the Accords, Carol wasn’t doing this for money. She didn’t care about bounties or rewards, she wasn’t doing this for praise. She supported the Accords because the world needed order, needed structure, needed to know every tool available for any situation. That was just good tactics. 

But when people were involved, it wasn’t about tactics anymore. It was about emotion. And for as long as she’d been away from the Kree, it was still so hard to shake that training. The idea that emotion was a bad thing. A dangerous thing. She had a feeling emotion would be the key here tonight, but it remained to be seen. 

Carol landed on a rooftop amidst a makeshift archery range, raising a brow at the targets. But her focus quickly zeroed in on the woman on the other side. “Wanda Maximoff,” she called out. “We haven’t gotten a chance to meet, but I’ve heard all about you. Very cool stuff. Except, ya know, the fugitive part.” 

"If American medicine is so impressive, why are you not better yet?" Pietro asked, pulling at the strands of Wanda's knitting. She was paying too much attention to her yarn, not enough to him. "Can't you magic yourself better? Use your sparkly finger powers," he drawled. He was laying across the foot of her bed, staring up at her. "I am bored without you," he pouted. It was easier than saying I'm worried about you. I miss you. Easier than admitting that being here, surrounding by surgical machines and beeping monitors, reminded him too much of their experiments. "And no one else will bake me cookies."

Katie was settling in well in Genosha. The six year old had been thrilled with her new rank as a princess and awed by the palace and her new room and toys. Katie did ask questions about her father and great grandparents but Lorna was usually able to direct those questions away and swallow the queasy horrified feeling in her stomach. And of course Katie was afraid of Magneto but at least Lorna's daughter had stopped hiding behind her, now just clinging to her leg. Now Lorna was sitting with Katie and bending the little pieces of metal she had brought into flowers and butterflies. "This power, it's a part of who you are. Who we are." She explained as Katie's eyes widened in delight. "You should never ever hide it."

The butterfly was floating through the air, wings flapping when she saw someone walking through the halls. This was someone she didn't know. Lorna stiffened ready to grab Katie if necessary and the butterfly wobbled. Waiting for the figure to get closer she squinted. “Can I help you?"