ataraxion | fifth shot; video

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fifth shot; video

Two things. One, I'm one of the flight officers now. Name's Clint Barton.

Second... Still looking for some materials. If anyone has an extra mattress you don't want, I'll take it off your hands. Old winter coats, scraps of clothes from home you'd like to see someone tear up? I'll take those, too.

[He is about to end the feed when he has an additional thought:]

If you see a little dark-haired kid in a suit in places he's not supposed to be, let me know. He answers to "Anthony".

[Satisfied now, Clint slings a quiver of arrows and a sleek black bow over his shoulder before shutting off the transmission.]

[Text to Ultimates/allied Avengers; encryption 100%]

Did anyone else have an issue with those masks? I haven't felt right since those things showed up.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[God knows looking to Tony as a beacon of anything but industry right now is a silly notion.]

Go ahead.

I imagine you may not have an answer but I can't help but wonder...do you think your priorities or behavior would change much knowing that your days here were all you had left?

[It seems infinitely stupid to have become That Person questioning her own mortality and what she would do if she had Another Chance but when she's not thinking about her painful last moments, she's thinking about what she ought to do now that she's alive again.]

[An interesting question. He takes a deep breath, considering.]

I'd probably do anything I could possibly do. Anything I ever wanted. But that's me. I don't like regrets.

[It's not far off from where her own thoughts strayed.]

I've been considering the same things. It feels odd to be torn between trying to reach some normalcy by falling back into familiar habits and putting it all aside in an effort to enjoy whatever days I may have left.

It's not particularly the setting I'd choose for the circumstances but in either case I'll need to make the best of it.

I don't envy you. But I do think you should make the most of it. Make friends, spoil yourself, do anything you want. You've got people to look out for you, so... just try?

I might then, at least to spoiling myself.

[She's never really been one to go out of her way to make friends. Allies, perhaps, but friends are another beast entirely. With a sigh, she looks up, shaking her head somewhat.]

I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to burden you with this.

[They've never been one for heart to heart conversations. Wanda's almost exclusively kept such revelations of her innermost thoughts between Pietro and herself. Not having him there is just as hard to cope with as her death.]

If you need someone to talk to, I'll listen.

[He's not obligated, and he knows that... But if she needs someone, it might as well be someone she's marginally familiar with. He doesn't have to process any of it, and she's not really asking for advice. It's simple.]

Need isn't a word I'd use, but thank you.

[She's not entirely certain she wants to open up more about this. Talking about her feelings to others has never been a thing. Adjusting and shifting her weight where she sits, she feels her shoulder brush Clint's and realizes absently that without Pietro there there's not really anyone else she has physical contact with. It only adds to her feelings of isolation and awkwardness.

As the silence grows, Wanda just sighs.]

I'm not sure there's all that much good to be had in venting about something that can't be changed.

Or want. I'm not trying to force it out of you. I'm offering, if you want to take it. You don't have to.

[He shrugs, frustrated. He can't read minds, and she's making him wish he could. Might make this easier.]

[Wanda sighs again and reaches up to run her fingers through her hair, looking up. She looks frustrated and somewhat at a loss when she finally looks over.]

No, of course, I know it's just--I barely know what to do with myself at this point to be honest. I appreciate the offer, I really do. It's just...nothing I've ever prepared myself to deal with.

Once you die you're supposed to stay dead and dealing with your death is left to those still alive. But I'm here on this ship and without Pietro--[Her voice breaks, and she almost swears in frustration for it. Wanda takes a deep, steadying breath.]--it's just a great deal more complicated and difficult.

[He avoids eye contact for a moment, but he finally looks over. His brow is furrowed, and he seems a bit confused. It's for reasons he won't even get into. She's just tied to so many bad memories...]

It's nothing anybody can be prepared for. Death is't an easy topic. I've never been dead, not really, but...

[No, this discussion is pointless.]

Wanda, we're all we have. You get that, right? Whatever we need, we have to lean on each other whether we like it or not. If you're going to deal with it alone, do that. If you don't want to, I know plenty about dealing with it from the other side. I'll... whatever you need me to listen to, I'm going to offer that.

I don't know what you want me to say.

[There's a brief moment when they both happen to be glancing over at each other at the same time. If he's quick enough, he'll notice that lost, uncertain and vulnerable look in her eyes before she turns away again.

For all that he claims he doesn't know what she wants him to say, he's doing well regardless. She doesn't need someone to ooze sympathy, it just helps immensely to hear from time to time that she's not alone and that it's okay to lean on him if she needs to. Wanda takes a deep breath and nods, before slowly leaning over so that she rests her shoulder lightly against his.]

Things like that, actually, are perfect.

[He looks away quickly once her shoulder makes contact with his, fixing his eyes on a point on the wall and wondering how he ended up like this. How life took him to this point. How this ship and that mask and this woman figured into everything he is and will be.

The team. He has a sliver, a shattered remnant of the Ultimates with him, and he might as well make the best of it.]

You'll figure out how to cope. And how to live. It'll get easier.

[With a swallow, Wanda nods again. This small point of contact between them is more than she's had in a while, since she got there. It's not much, and odd to have it from him, but it's better nothing at all.

Her head tilts to the side, toward him, but she doesn't rest it on him at all. She too, stares ahead and exhales quietly.]

Perhaps.

[Wanda swallows.]

Can I ask you a favor?

[He notices the head tilt, questions it in his head, but doesn't say anything.]

Sure.

[And now that she's said that much she wants to tell him no, nevermind, it's fine. The part of her that doesn't back down from things, that doesn't show weakness is all at once both the cause for her wanting to put off asking her favor and to ask it anyway.]

I know this isn't really a thing we do and if Pietro were here I wouldn't ask [because she wouldn't need to] but if you don't mind...I could use a hug.

[She feels a world of stupid and ridiculous saying it allowed but need overrides her sense of ego and pride.]

[A...what? He looks confused for a second.]

A hug?

[Bizarre but understandable. Wanda's always struck him as someone who feeds on affection she probably never got, someone who stays very close to the people who matter to her.]

[And she's already rethinking things. Swallowing again, she stands, speaks a bit too quickly.]

It's alright, you don't have to.

[He stands as well.]

Wanda. Don't worry about it.

[Everyone would want him to take care of the team. This is just part of it. Even if it's... completely awkward.

Have a suitably awkward hug?]

Edited (i suck) 2012-11-27 20:36 (UTC)

[The need for physical comfort, no matter how small or fleeting it might be wins out over pride even through her awkward feelings. Head bowed so he can't see her face, Wanda lets her hands rest lightly on his sides and takes a deep breath.

It's an awkward hug, but she's needed one ever since she fell out of that grav couch over a week ago so she's not feeling picky. It's human contact and it helps even just a little. After a moment, she just gives in and gets close enough to wrap her arms around his middle and press her cheek to his shoulder. Wanda takes another deep breath, though it's a bit shaky, and waits for the first sign that he wants to let go.]

[The hands at his sides make him instantly uncomfortable, and it takes all he has to not push her away. It's too close, too personal, too intimate. So he tenses, and gently removes her hands from his back after a few moments.

He has his limits. This is pushing them.]

[The moment is hands remove hers, Wanda steps away, and she can't bring herself to look at him. It's one thing to pull away, but that he feels he has to remove her hands is indicative of something more. He said not to worry about it, but she feels that she's overstepped. She never should have asked.]

I'm sorry.

[Wanda steps back and then to the side, reaches past him for the mask she left sitting on his bed.]

I should go.

It's fine. I'm just...

[Issues. He shakes his head. This isn't easy for him. He doesn't want to go around hugging people. But she's part of the team, dammit.]

Look, if it helps, it helps.

[He reaches for her arm.]

[Wanda doesn't shake him off, but she doesn't move any closer either.]

But it's obviously not fine, and it doesn't help if it's not okay.

[It takes effort, but Wanda pushes whatever she's feeling down and off of her face, and soon there's nothing there but a neutral expression.]

Don't worry about it, Clint.

You startled me. That's it.

[It didn't feel like a friendly hug, not one he's ever given. It felt more intimate than that, and maybe Wanda is just that intense, but...]

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