xp_logs | Wanda/North (backdated to Saturday morning)

An early morning sees a reunion. Both North and Wanda are glad to see each other, even if history doesn't quite mesh anymore.

Early hours of the day found David sitting outside on the veranda, idly rocking the rocking chair as he took slow drags from the cigarette dangling loosely from ink-stained fingers. He had been strung up since Xorn had unceremoniously patched together a whole new world for them to be dumped into, and the set of rooms assigned to him were too unfamiliar for him to find any kind of meaningful rest in bed.

In fact, the mansion itself had too many inhabitants, and in the wake of the upheaval, there was far too much activity, vulnerable security points and a host of unknown factors and problems that needed to be dealt with. Most of the survivors were holed up in various states of drunkenness and/or employing a creative variety coping mechanisms. David himself, however, had taken zero steps towards drinking himself into oblivion despite powers that triggered at every minor startle that he suffered.

Because the last time he did that, he almost killed himself. And when that failed, almost let Wade kill him.

Personally, dying was not a bad thing. After all, there were some downsides to being somewhat of a cockroach that refused to die. There were many things David could bounce back from. But this? He snorted and took another long drag of smoke, expelling it with a loud sigh.

He saw the back door open a minute or two before it did, head turning to the right to watch as light from the kitchen spilled onto the veranda and an achingly familiar head peeked out and around to peer at him.

Wanda looked tired and drawn but her face lit up in a happy smile when she saw who was sitting on porch. "David! With all the upheaval in the mansion, I was uncertain who all from our group had made it back yet, though I have seen a few." She stepped out and let the door swing shut behind her; she was cradling a large steaming mug of tea in her hands. Barefoot, tired looking, hair wild as usual - and smiling, alive and well.

She leaned a hip against the railing and looked him over. "You are a sight for sore eyes - there are too many unfamiliar faces running through around at the moment. It's been too long."

Since their unceremonious arrival in this world, North had been quiet. Silent. Some would say sullen. But truth be told, he had become incapable of speech. The soldier in him had recognized the signs of shock and PTSD before he dismissed it. Chaos must have fucked with his brain, but there was no need to speak, mostly. Few ever tried to actively engage him in conversation after all.

So he expected his throat to close up again, a band of silence constricting his vocal chords the way it had each time he attempted to speak.

But to his utter surprise, which was quickly hidden, the words tripped along his tongue smoothly. "As are you, Frau Maximoff," he replied, sounding formal, but fond, even to her ears. The corners of his eyes crinkling as he quirked a small smile for her at the sound of his own voice, slightly rough from disuse. "I saw a few of ours running around. I trust you had a good trip?"

Wanda grinned back, feeling less stressed in familiar company. "Hmm. Well, it did not end in tears, bloodshed or explosions, so it wasn't a total loss. But I was unsuccessful in unearthing more concrete information on the Chthon cult's more recent activities though they certainly not inactive. And an impromptu sister rescue, as well. So it was with mixed emotions that I came back. Relief, to give myself a reason to stop. But the other ..."

She shook her head and took a sip of the cooling tea. "Everything at home is a mess. Charles suffered a stroke, the world in chaos..."

The irony of her words was not lost on him and he allowed himself to curl into a slouch as his contemplative gaze slid from her face to the darkness of the gardens beyond. She was not the same Wanda that had suffered a brain aneurysm while he watched helplessly from within the confines of his mind -- and that had joined the list of traumas that he would never forget -- but her mannerisms were close enough to identical that he could possibly ignore that particular fact for a while.

"We will get by," David said, and she could take some comfort in how certain he sounded. He took another drag from the cigarette that was almost down to its filter. "We always do." One way or another. "Perhaps it was just time for you to come back and regroup."

"Perhaps it was just time," she agreed, rolling the mug between her palms. "Besides, I rather missed the lot of you. It was time to come home anyway. Also, it is boring doing surveillance and research on your own. You bastards spoiled me." Wanda moved from the railing to take the rocking chair next to North's, long legs stretched out in front of her.

Her head tilted in his direction. "It is good to see you again, old man," she teased gently. "Nice not to be the oldest person in the room again."

He snorted, but it was good-natured, and they both watched as the cigarette butt sailed into the air and landed somewhere on the grass with a flick of his fingers. It was entirely possible that he should have brought an ashtray down from his rooms but it was more of an afterthought and too much of an effort by the time.

"I am going back to Germany for a while," he told her. "So enjoy it while it lasts."

"Oh trust me, I will. Right up until you board that flight, I will happily communicate to every soul that you are old. And I am not." This was what she had missed, she realized, those long days and nights on her own. Somehow the consummate wanderer had found wandering not as much to her taste anymore and she only had the people around her to blame.

"Is there trouble?" Wanda asked quietly after a moment. "Or is it simply a trip?"

He shrugged, and pulled out another cigarette to fiddle with. "With what went down, some check-ins need to be done in person." There were huge gaps in the network if the paperwork was anything to go by, and the spy had found himself flying on instincts for the parts which he knew would have required zero paper trail. Not all his contacts had been mutants, but some of them had been key. It would be easier now that he knew he could actually talk. "Everything has been a huge... clusterfuck"

"That is putting it mildly." Through sheer dumb luck, Wanda appeared to have come out of the entire mess unscathed. After the mass deaths occurred, it had taken her forever to get through to Pietro, friends at the mansion and otherwise. She was damned lucky but it was still hard to wake up every day and remember what had taken place.

Curling her hand into a loose fist, she knocked lightly against North's shoulder. "If you find yourself in a mess or need some back-up, call. Some of those that survived to open the door may not be thrilled to see you. Though with your sunny disposition, I have no idea why that might be..."

Another small smile curled the corners of his lips, barely visible by the glow of his cigarette, but there nonetheless. "People get suspicious when someone smiles too much in the Motherland," he pointed out blandly. "Nonetheless, I am sure that if I do miss any check-ins, you will be the first on site to save my sorry hide."

"First boots on the ground, I can promise you that." And she meant every word. Germany would be hard pressed to keep her out if something went wrong while he was over there. Sighing, she forced herself to her feet and nudged his leg with her foot. "My tea appears to be broken and knowing you, you probably have not eaten yet. Shall we see what they have stocked in the kitchen?"

Giving him a small grin, Wanda held her free hand out to him. "Need a hand out of that chair?"

He batted it away with a growl, tucking the crumpled pack of cigarettes into a pocket as he rose fluidly to his feet, moving over to hold the door open for her. "Do not mock the elderly, Kleine, for one day you will join our ranks."

Wanda laughed as she moved past him, blowing him a kiss as she did. "Only once you are done paving the way. Now come on, we can continue badgering each other over pancakes."