[ she's sluggish as she lands bodily on the wall opposite.
not just because of her limbs - though that comes with it's own disadvantage as she slowly picks herself up off of the floor- wall. it's more than that, an absence felt as keenly as a pressure against her temples, the moments before a headache where something is wrong but you can't quite place your finger on what it is yet. she isn't powerless, it's nothing so dramatic enough, but the difference is enough that she can feel it keenly in every movement.
still there is enough going on that she can focus on something else - for the moment at least. figuring out exactly what works and what doesn't, how far she can test things, it's not a priority. what is a priority is the loud groans of a precariously balanced wreck, finding clothes, and finding an exit. with a deep breath, shaking knees and a soft mutter under her breath she starts to move, not out of the dangerous ship just yet but further in. there may lie answers there yet. ]
-
[ later as she does emerge, fully clothed in a simple and pretty damaged dress that someone abandoned in what used to be the locker room. she's still dripping with the blue fluid, hair hanging in matted locks, and once she emerges into the sun she pauses for a moment and stares at the sky. ]
This is not where I started.
[ she makes the comment, clearly unnecessary, to no one in particular, and then raises a hand to crumple enough of the hull that she has a clear path to the ground. it takes a lot more out of her than it used to, and already out of breath she drops to a seated position as she stares at her hands. so that explains the feeling then. god only knows what is going wrong with her right now, but one thing it definitely is is wrong. staring at her hands - or more accurately, the little red sparks and waves drifting away from her fingertips - doesn't change the fact that she already feels completely sapped of her energy though, and after a minute she lets her hands fall back to her sides and stands instead. ]
Something is wrong. [ again this is obvious, but this time she speaks with more purpose, looking around for someone to demand answers from. for people who know of it her accent is strong, eastern european, and as she spots a humanoid shaped body she rounds on them as quickly as she can manage in her currently drained state. ] What did they do to me?
wanda maximoff » mcu
[ she's sluggish as she lands bodily on the wall opposite.
not just because of her limbs - though that comes with it's own disadvantage as she slowly picks herself up off of the floor- wall. it's more than that, an absence felt as keenly as a pressure against her temples, the moments before a headache where something is wrong but you can't quite place your finger on what it is yet. she isn't powerless, it's nothing so dramatic enough, but the difference is enough that she can feel it keenly in every movement.
still there is enough going on that she can focus on something else - for the moment at least. figuring out exactly what works and what doesn't, how far she can test things, it's not a priority. what is a priority is the loud groans of a precariously balanced wreck, finding clothes, and finding an exit. with a deep breath, shaking knees and a soft mutter under her breath she starts to move, not out of the dangerous ship just yet but further in. there may lie answers there yet. ]
-
[ later as she does emerge, fully clothed in a simple and pretty damaged dress that someone abandoned in what used to be the locker room. she's still dripping with the blue fluid, hair hanging in matted locks, and once she emerges into the sun she pauses for a moment and stares at the sky. ]
This is not where I started.
[ she makes the comment, clearly unnecessary, to no one in particular, and then raises a hand to crumple enough of the hull that she has a clear path to the ground. it takes a lot more out of her than it used to, and already out of breath she drops to a seated position as she stares at her hands. so that explains the feeling then. god only knows what is going wrong with her right now, but one thing it definitely is is wrong. staring at her hands - or more accurately, the little red sparks and waves drifting away from her fingertips - doesn't change the fact that she already feels completely sapped of her energy though, and after a minute she lets her hands fall back to her sides and stands instead. ]
Something is wrong. [ again this is obvious, but this time she speaks with more purpose, looking around for someone to demand answers from. for people who know of it her accent is strong, eastern european, and as she spots a humanoid shaped body she rounds on them as quickly as she can manage in her currently drained state. ] What did they do to me?