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Then don't fight me.

[He argues, but he senses it may be a lost cause. He has a limited resource of Witcher spells and he can't imagine any of them working on Wanda, but he's also not interested in floating helplessly.

When she turns to him, he casts axii at her in his best attempt to hold her attention. There's influence in his voice, but it's a novice spell. A sparkler being held up against a firework show.]

Put me down.

[Funny, because Wanda's gotten the same impression or else she wouldn't be witcher-napping him.

She wasn't expecting him to be able to try to fight her on that level, but even unprepared it doesn't matter. Rather than taking hold, axii slides off her mind like water. Her eyes glow briefly.

Well, he got her to stop, but only so that she can give him another Look.]

So you can run off and get yourself hurt again or worse? No.

[And then she very deliberately raises him a foot higher in the air before turning away to continue slithering home.]

[Well, that went about as well as anyone could have expected. The glow of her eyes, the look.. maybe he ought to sit tight after all. He's not sure he's entirely disapproving of it and he's confused by that.

Maybe it's the neediness in him. He's still weak, still a little manna starved and susceptible to her influence. And God, does she have influence.]

What's your plan, then?

You're still hurt. I need to finish healing you, and you need food and rest.

[She's unsure about his manna levels but that might also need some attention. She certainly wouldn't mind, ahem, assisting. And honestly, Wanda does want to wrap him up and keep him close for a while, just to make sure that he's going to be okay.]

Need.

[He repeats, pointedly.]

You're doing just as well as I am. You're getting possessive. [He points it out easily, almost gently. It's factual to him, not personal.]

It's the ruby. [It's not about her. It's not about him.]

I'm not the one with the broken arm and whatever else you've hurt. And I don't need the ruby to want you to stay alive.

[Does he really think she doesn't care about him? That he's just a dick to fuck to her?]

I'll heal. I always do. It's one of the nicer parts of what they did to me.

[Deliberately, it's phrased in a way she'll understand.

But, he concedes.]

I'll come with you, but I'd like to walk.

[Wanda turns to level him another unimpressed Look - like one silver lining makes this, any of this, okay - and huffs.]

It will be easier to fly up to my apartment than to stuff my tail in an elevator.

[Stairs are out for obvious reasons. She looks at him a long moment and then slowly, deliberately lowers him to the ground. It doesn't seem like he's lying, and she can always pick him up again if he tries to run. They've already proven that he can't get away from her in his current state.]

But until we get there, as long as it doesn't hurt you...fine.

You're the boss.

[He says, with some resignation. He's still relieved once he's lowered. He hesitates, a little irritated by the ordeal but fond enough of Wanda that he watches her for a moment and he grumbles to himself before stepping closer.

He rests the hand of his good arm on the small of her back, leaning down over her and pressing a kiss to her lips.]

[Well, he grumbles but clearly he can't be that mad at her. Wanda kisses him back eagerly, though her hands are careful where they come to rest on his hip and chest.

She huffs softly when they part.]

Don't tell me not to care.

((ooc: want to skip to her apartment soon?))

[Geralt's response is one of his typical grunts, but given that she knows him well enough now she will likely interpret it as a grunt of concession.

The rest of the journey is mostly silent. As much as he denies it, he is weary and there's not much to say. He follows her to her apartment, realising once they get to the door that he hasn't been there before.]

I'm not going to dirty it up?

[Wanda gives him a once-over. The polite assessment is that he's seen better days. The accurate assessment is that he needs a bath and his clothes need help. A lot of help. She frowns, considering.]

Stay still.

[She points at him, and a wave of red energy shimmers down his body. It turns out that cleaning someone is far, far easier (and faster) than healing them, and that fixing his clothes is trivial.]

Better. You can come in.

[She's going to let him go first, not because she doesn't trust him not to bolt but because her tail is extremely in the way in the closer quarters of her apartment. Eventually he's going to have to be careful not to step on her.]

[Geralt stills begrudgingly as he stares at her, bristling and frowning as the magic washes over him. He's not sure if he likes that more or less than being tossed in a bath, but it is over a lot quicker.]

Thanks.

[He says, with zero sincerity in his tone. He strides past her and her tail and walks into her apartment, looking around and back to her.]

Suits you.

[The place? The tail? He doesn't specify.]

[Wanda is an adult. She was always the more mature of the Maximoff twins despite being the younger one.

...that does not stop her from briefly sticking her tongue out at Geralt's back before slithering in after him.

She uses her powers to close the door because it's much easier than doubling back. Her apartment is mostly still in the almost-art-deco-style it came in, but she's added some cozy touches. She does appear to collect candles.]

Sit down, get comfortable. I'll get you something to drink.

[The foul mood is gradually dissipating, giving way to an amused look when she sticks her tongue out at him. As he loiters around the couch he picks up a candle and sniffs it, seemingly unwilling to just sit.]

You live alone? [He asks as she slithers away to get drinks. It's strange, he feels like he knows this girl intimately and yet, not at all. He doesn't know who she spends her time with, how she lives. It feels strange to be in her home, like he's out of place but he belongs here all at once.]

[Well, he's here; if he wants to fidget with her things instead of sitting and relaxing it's still a kind of victory.]

There's no one else from my world. Just me.

[It's a difficult position to be in. There are people who care about her here, of course, but it's a new kind of 'alone.' Sokovia and Ultron and the Avengers always require an explanation. At the same time, she hasn't wanted to get a large house like the Guardians did in anticipation of the others showing up. She's not sure she wants to live with them again. She's not sure she deserves to. There's too much unresolved pain, and Wanda's already decided that if she gets a choice, she's not returning home. All that's waiting for her is pain and a cage.

She'd be lying if she said it didn't hurt but it's better this way. For everyone.

Wanda comes back with two cold glasses of strawberry lemonade.]

If one of my friends comes here, we'll figure it out.

[Geralt takes the drink, breathing in the sweet smell and flaring his nostrils just slightly when the citrus hits him. Still, he takes a deep swig of it as he awkwardly loiters around the room.

He studies her as she speaks and it's curious, that it sounds like she's alone but he's not actually sure if she's lonely. Strangely, he feels like he wants to know more but feels he ought to offer information about himself before he tries to solicit it from her.]

There's five of us from The Continent, including me. Two of them from a future I haven't lived yet. Two of them I live with.

That sounds nice, to have so many friends. [Or at least, not enemies.] But maybe a little strange to be from different times?

[She wonders what they had to do to get Geralt to live in a house with them. From what she's seen from him, she's sure there was no small amount of grumbling on Geralt's part and arm-twisting on the other two's.

Maybe if she sits - or drapes herself - on the couch first he will stop pacing around. She's almost getting tired just watching him.]

Come sit. Relax.

Friends. [Geralt repeats, skeptically. He supposes he can't deny that they're friends when he lives with them.]

One's a sorceress. One's a bard. They're noisy. [Tiredly, he adds.] Of the other two, one is my brother and one hates my guts.

[He watches her drape and admittedly it looks inviting, so he traipses over and sits beside her. Without asking, he lifts her tail up and sets it down on his lap so he can run his fingers over the scales curiously.]

If that is the worst you can say about them, they must be your friends.

[She's teasing, but when he touches her she just melts. Wanda sighs softly and carefully snuggles closer. He's still injured, and right, she's supposed to be doing something about that. Glowing fingers skim lightly over his cheek and she works on those cuts and scrapes first. It's probably best to start at the top and work her way down? (Little does she know that she won't make it that far.)

As she works, the tip of her tail curls around his ankle. It makes her lamia instincts feel better, okay? She knows she shouldn't want more than this, but he's so close and he's so warm and she just can't help but want.]

[That remark earns her a soft, sincere chuckle. She's right, he won't fight her on it. It also warms him to know that she knows him well enough to joke like that.

His fingers span curiously over her tail, shifting to accomodate the closeness and allowing his eyes to shut. He decides to indulge her and in turn, indulges himself in the warmth of her touch. He feels that tail coil around his ankle, pleased that it gives him a reason to pretend as if he had other reasons to remain pinned her with her.

He settles into the couch, looking up at her through his lashes. His expression remains dull, but his eyes are searching hers.]

Why are you still kind?

[She's not sure that's the word she'd use to describe herself - she isn't Steve or Vision. She'd kill with no remorse to protect the people she cares about if necessary. But she's not like Strucker or Ultron either.]

We had no one after our parents died, [she says finally, softly.] Sokovia was...broken. We had no heroes, no one to protect us. You know the rest.

I couldn't save my brother or my people. But maybe I can save someone else. I have to try. It has to be worth something. [Gently, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear.] But you ask like you aren't kind.

[Pot, kettle...she never gives herself the same leeway she gives others.]

[Geralt's hands trace idle shapes on her tail with his fingertips. He listens intently but doesn't stare too much as she speaks, understanding how vulnerable it is.]

I'm not.

[He says finally, a little callous given what she's just said. He adds:]

If it helps, I'll stay put. Just for a bit.

[His hands feel good and Wanda shivers in pleasure. It's probably not worth pointing out the inherent contradiction here, but it bothers her that Geralt, for whatever reason, feels like he has to tell these lies to himself.]

You are in the ways that matter. I can feel it.

[She snuggles closer, her tail coiling around his calf a little more, and leans across him for a gentle kiss.]

Edited 2021-10-07 13:49 (UTC)

Mm.

[It's dismissive, but at least he's not arguing. He doesn't like the conversation and much prefers what follows, much prefers her lips. He meets her part way and catches her lips, returning the gentle pressure as his fingers span curiously over her tail. They slide up and up to where it joins at her hips. An interesting shape, but a welcomed one.]

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