Wanda & Billy, Sunday afternoon
Apr. 19th, 2026 02:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsA routine powers training session on a lovely Sunday afternoon. Everything goes swimmingly until it doesn't.
Standing still and thinking really hard should not take so much out of a person, but here was Billy, struggling to regain his breath, his face pale, the collar of his Death of a Salesman cast t-shirt darkened from perspiration. Wanda had been trying to show him how to direct a bouncy ball to hit specific targets without telekinetically guiding it every step of the way. Just make it follow the path and hit the walls at the correct angles with the correct force and velocity that it would go all on its own. Make the one-in-a-million chance real. (One in two million, sixty-three thousand, four hundred and seventy-seven, actually. She'd done the math. He'd tried not to cry.)
"I don't understand how you make this look so easy," he kvetched between gasps of air.
"Let us talk in a few decades and see how you're getting along with your powers then," Wanda said with a laugh, glancing at the curls of silver that she could see out of the corner of her eye. She was casually tossing another ball back and forth between her hands, rolling it around on her fingers, as she watched Billy closely. "You have already come quite a ways with your powers since we first met. Also, remember - even though it looks easy, there is always a cost. Sometimes to myself, sometimes to what I am attempting to do."
If possible, Billy's face turned even whiter. "What kind of cost?" All the magic books he'd borrowed from the public library when he first discovered his powers talked about the costs of witchcraft, the threefold rule and so on. But they did not say much more. "Is this stuff going to kill me if I mess up?"
Wanda's voice was kind but there was no sugar coating. "It could. Mutants, mostly, are immune to their own powers - it would be a terrible thing to be able to summon fire but burn whilst doing so." The ball in her hand shimmered red. "But we can change the very fabric of the world around us and influence it in ways only those with our gifts can. If you rend open the street in front of you, you are in just as much danger of falling into it as anyone else."
There was something comforting (in a fully deranged way) that Wanda described mutant power blowback in such a mundane way and not "the spooky energy you channel will literally tear you into ribbons," like Billy feared she had meant. Little did he know the fate of some uncontrollable mutants, but he preferred to keep it that way for now. Less possibility of a panic attack.
"How much cost can there be to a bouncy ball, anyway?" he considered. Famous last words. Plucking the ball from Wanda's outstretched hand, he once again visualized the path she had instructed. STEM was never a strong suit, but he considered the angles and velocity and whatnot at each step, anyway. Storyboarding the ball like he was choreographing the stage combat for She Kills Monsters.
He did not throw the ball yet, though. He could not explain why, but he knew it would falter partway because it didn't have enough power yet. So, he traced the path in his mind's eye again while reaching for the disquieting power he always felt in his gut. The red of Wanda's energy faded and Billy's blue blazed.
Goosebumps broke out up and down her arms as the strings in her mind snapped taut. Wanda's eyes moved from watching the trajectory of the ball to Billy himself. "I need you to breathe," she said slowly but firmly. "And release - gently - the energy you're building now. Your power is -" The strings were moving moving towards Billy and changing to a weird purple hue. Her eyebrows raised slightly, the only sign of concern as she tried not to spook him.
"It's calling like to like and you are drawing in too much."
"Um, I don't know if I can. It keeps coming." If there was one thing Billy could do, it was freak out even in the presence of the most patient, chill person. He could no longer even see Wanda's red through all his blue. "I think . . . I think I can do it. I see the energy, it's it's it's . . . it's directing the ball's path . . . I want it to go that way. I want it to . . ."
Billy's stomach lurched and blue flooded his visions . . . followed by green. That wasn't his power manifesting, though. Just vomit on the metal-paneled floor of the Danger Room.
"My boots," Wanda muttered under her breath as she tried to take a delicate step back from the spray while also trying to disband whatever extra chaos energy was surging. After a moment, the lines of chaos were shivering in response but she no longer felt as if an explosion was about to happen. It allowed her to focus on Billy, hands on his knees, and as pale as a ghost. "Well, that is one way to stop our session for the day."
Stepping carefully around the mess, Wanda placed a hand on his lower back and one on his shoulder. "Can you walk? I can carry or support you if you cannot, but getting you out of the Danger Room to a place where you can sit and have some juice is our next priority. I'll clean this up once I know that you are more stable."
This was somehow worse than the time he barfed in the library when he and Tommy were researching. At least he could leave the library and avoid the staff. But he was going to have to come back here with Wanda in a few days for his next lesson. Would the embarrassment ever end?
"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I don't know what happened. I didn't . . . Oh, God, I didn't hurt you, did I?!"
She gently steered him away from the mess and patted his shoulder. “No, I am fine and the energy you built up has dissipated. For the rest? Nothing a good mopping will not fix. Though for dealing with vomiting, my rates will double.”
Wanda sighed at his stricken expression and reminded herself that he took things a little too on the nose, even jokes. “Billy, these sessions are free, remember?”
Billy forced a little laugh when he processed the joke, but his mind was still stuck on Wanda's reassurance. All that energy he had gathered for his task had left his body, of that he was sure, but something still seemed amiss. A restlessness in the air. Just everyday run-of-the-mill anxiety? Possibly, but Billy wasn't so sure.
But he was in a large home full of incredibly powerful and smart mutants who could handle anything. Really, what could go wrong?
Standing still and thinking really hard should not take so much out of a person, but here was Billy, struggling to regain his breath, his face pale, the collar of his Death of a Salesman cast t-shirt darkened from perspiration. Wanda had been trying to show him how to direct a bouncy ball to hit specific targets without telekinetically guiding it every step of the way. Just make it follow the path and hit the walls at the correct angles with the correct force and velocity that it would go all on its own. Make the one-in-a-million chance real. (One in two million, sixty-three thousand, four hundred and seventy-seven, actually. She'd done the math. He'd tried not to cry.)
"I don't understand how you make this look so easy," he kvetched between gasps of air.
"Let us talk in a few decades and see how you're getting along with your powers then," Wanda said with a laugh, glancing at the curls of silver that she could see out of the corner of her eye. She was casually tossing another ball back and forth between her hands, rolling it around on her fingers, as she watched Billy closely. "You have already come quite a ways with your powers since we first met. Also, remember - even though it looks easy, there is always a cost. Sometimes to myself, sometimes to what I am attempting to do."
If possible, Billy's face turned even whiter. "What kind of cost?" All the magic books he'd borrowed from the public library when he first discovered his powers talked about the costs of witchcraft, the threefold rule and so on. But they did not say much more. "Is this stuff going to kill me if I mess up?"
Wanda's voice was kind but there was no sugar coating. "It could. Mutants, mostly, are immune to their own powers - it would be a terrible thing to be able to summon fire but burn whilst doing so." The ball in her hand shimmered red. "But we can change the very fabric of the world around us and influence it in ways only those with our gifts can. If you rend open the street in front of you, you are in just as much danger of falling into it as anyone else."
There was something comforting (in a fully deranged way) that Wanda described mutant power blowback in such a mundane way and not "the spooky energy you channel will literally tear you into ribbons," like Billy feared she had meant. Little did he know the fate of some uncontrollable mutants, but he preferred to keep it that way for now. Less possibility of a panic attack.
"How much cost can there be to a bouncy ball, anyway?" he considered. Famous last words. Plucking the ball from Wanda's outstretched hand, he once again visualized the path she had instructed. STEM was never a strong suit, but he considered the angles and velocity and whatnot at each step, anyway. Storyboarding the ball like he was choreographing the stage combat for She Kills Monsters.
He did not throw the ball yet, though. He could not explain why, but he knew it would falter partway because it didn't have enough power yet. So, he traced the path in his mind's eye again while reaching for the disquieting power he always felt in his gut. The red of Wanda's energy faded and Billy's blue blazed.
Goosebumps broke out up and down her arms as the strings in her mind snapped taut. Wanda's eyes moved from watching the trajectory of the ball to Billy himself. "I need you to breathe," she said slowly but firmly. "And release - gently - the energy you're building now. Your power is -" The strings were moving moving towards Billy and changing to a weird purple hue. Her eyebrows raised slightly, the only sign of concern as she tried not to spook him.
"It's calling like to like and you are drawing in too much."
"Um, I don't know if I can. It keeps coming." If there was one thing Billy could do, it was freak out even in the presence of the most patient, chill person. He could no longer even see Wanda's red through all his blue. "I think . . . I think I can do it. I see the energy, it's it's it's . . . it's directing the ball's path . . . I want it to go that way. I want it to . . ."
Billy's stomach lurched and blue flooded his visions . . . followed by green. That wasn't his power manifesting, though. Just vomit on the metal-paneled floor of the Danger Room.
"My boots," Wanda muttered under her breath as she tried to take a delicate step back from the spray while also trying to disband whatever extra chaos energy was surging. After a moment, the lines of chaos were shivering in response but she no longer felt as if an explosion was about to happen. It allowed her to focus on Billy, hands on his knees, and as pale as a ghost. "Well, that is one way to stop our session for the day."
Stepping carefully around the mess, Wanda placed a hand on his lower back and one on his shoulder. "Can you walk? I can carry or support you if you cannot, but getting you out of the Danger Room to a place where you can sit and have some juice is our next priority. I'll clean this up once I know that you are more stable."
This was somehow worse than the time he barfed in the library when he and Tommy were researching. At least he could leave the library and avoid the staff. But he was going to have to come back here with Wanda in a few days for his next lesson. Would the embarrassment ever end?
"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I don't know what happened. I didn't . . . Oh, God, I didn't hurt you, did I?!"
She gently steered him away from the mess and patted his shoulder. “No, I am fine and the energy you built up has dissipated. For the rest? Nothing a good mopping will not fix. Though for dealing with vomiting, my rates will double.”
Wanda sighed at his stricken expression and reminded herself that he took things a little too on the nose, even jokes. “Billy, these sessions are free, remember?”
Billy forced a little laugh when he processed the joke, but his mind was still stuck on Wanda's reassurance. All that energy he had gathered for his task had left his body, of that he was sure, but something still seemed amiss. A restlessness in the air. Just everyday run-of-the-mill anxiety? Possibly, but Billy wasn't so sure.
But he was in a large home full of incredibly powerful and smart mutants who could handle anything. Really, what could go wrong?
