seeingscarlet | Contact

[ He makes a low murmur, his eyes slipping half shut as he sinks fully into that synchrony, his head tilting to rest lightly against hers. His fingers move in light, slow caresses with his attention elsewhere.

He has never expected perfection of anyone--not even himself, a very rare thing amongst his fellows--and the imperfections are part of the whole of her, what builds Wanda to be who she is. He can have no objection, no desire but to see her released from the chains others have placed on her, so that she can be herself wholly. ]

There is such Light to you.

[She is content to drift in the synch, held and seen in her entirety. She's not sure why the Guardians see her so differently, but perhaps it's something to do with having lived through the Dark Ages and seeing what it looks like when someone is given great power and intentionally abuses it. For all the mistakes she's made, she's always tried to do the right thing.

(There's a hairline fracture wrought of grief and loss that might one day be the cause of tragedy, but for now it's protected by the companionship she's found. Wanda Maximoff is a woman both torn apart and held together by love.)]

And you are so warm and bright...like the sun. Not just your Light, but all of you.

[Sometimes she feels like a flower who has been blessed with the chance to bask in his radiance and grow stronger from his love and support. He was her light when she'd lost all hope. He'd believed in her when she couldn't believe in herself. And what he sees when he looks at her...that was what she had always wanted to be when she'd agreed to the experiments and when she'd joined the Avengers.

Her hand comes up to gently stroke his hair, born of the need to reciprocate physically. A dual approach is always stronger.]

[ He half closes his eyes in contentment at her fingers in his hair, then captures her hand so he can press his lips on her palm, still slick with water.

It's strange, in a way, to hear her speak as if he's somehow separate from his Light. He supposes there must be something, or else Guardians like Osiris would cease entirely after losing their Ghosts and Light. But it's certainly not something he's ever thought about himself.

He chuckles softly against her palm, another fragment of poetry coming to him. ]

The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light.
Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light.

[For Wanda, they're both separate and part of a harmonious whole, but there is a difference. Any Guardian's Light would feel the same to her, aside from the differences in attunements, but Shaxx's "light" is unique to him. A choice he makes to be, rather than something he is; a harmonious whole.

Wanda makes a soft, almost imperceptible sound as he kisses the scar on her palm.]

And am I a butterfly or a flower?

[Her voice is soft, fond, like she doesn't want to break the spell he's casting on her.]

Why not both?

[ He smiles and kisses her palm again, then closes her fingers lightly around it. ]

You contain multitudes.

[She shivers.]

So do you.

[Wanda knows her limitations. She is no poet. But she can share what Shaxx feels like to her: the sea of light ever supporting her is accurate, yes, but there's the psychic impression of petrichor, the charge and anticipation in the air just before the storm comes, the warmth of the fire in her cabin against the bitter cold all those months ago. A warrior's strength, the softer heart of a poet. Hope. And so much love.

She will not call him the sun - the sun is too distant and impersonal, and Shaxx is someone she is proud to stand beside. The butterfly and the light dancing together, rather than one hiding within the other. They complement each other well, and Wanda is eternally grateful that he'd been the first person she'd stumbled across after Malachite ripped her away from her world.

After a moment more basking in the feel of him, she turns to kiss his cheek.]

Whenever you're ready.

[It certainly won't hurt her hair to leave it on longer if he wants to stay like this a little more.]

[ In many ways Shaxx's view of Wanda is far more simple; he sees her much as he sees all Guardians, the complexities of inner light that interweave to become something far greater, something that has potentiality to change the world with a simple act of defiance against the Darkness, an almost incomprehensible strength that waits to be called on in defense of others. She may not have a Ghost, but he knows with certainty that she can and will move mountains or break her own heart trying.

And that is all that has ever really mattered to him.

He holds her close for a bit longer, basking in that inner warmth from her before he presses a kiss against her temple. ]

Let's get it washed out so you can show me the bath explosive.

[ And he's just as careful and gentle with that, reverent almost, as he was in getting the conditioner into her hair in the first place, carefully finger-combing out every potential knot. ]

[This has been a lovely treat and once the conditioner's fully rinsed out, she turns to kiss him sweetly. Gratitude shines through the sync - he didn't have to do this and she appreciated the great care he took.]

Here.

[The bath bomb levitates over to him.]

Bath bombs aren't for throwing. You just drop it in, and then you watch.

[ The gratitude is unnecessary as far as he's concerned. He was hardly going to fuck and run. But he's certainly glad she feels loved, because she deserves that.

He takes the bath bomb. ]

You make it sound less exciting with every passing moment.

[ Yes, he's teasing.

He deposits the bath bomb into the water. ]

[Wanda laughs.]

You'll see.

[The bath bomb starts fizzing the second it hits the water. It begins releasing waves of sunset color and soon a nice spicy scent fills the bathroom. This one has a few large confetti inclusions but no glitter. It's one of the few that she has that doesn't.]

What do you think?

[ He rests his chin lightly on her shoulder as he watches the bath bomb do its thing. ]

As a way to make water smell nice and look colorful, it certainly works.

Can't recommend it as an explosive.

Baths are for cleaning up, not making a mess.

[Well...okay, that really depends on how you want to define 'mess' here.]

Not that kind of mess. But we can make other messes next time if this isn't exciting enough for you.

I'm not saying it isn't pleasant. [ Hey, it's a new thing. Even if it's a new thing he doesn't quite get, it's still new. And that makes it special. ] Just that it's very misnamed.

[ Look at him, sounding like a Warlock, quibbling about nomenclature. He's very amused. ]

Sitting around in a colorful bath that smells nice sounds very relaxing. [ Even he can admit to that, even if he's in many ways very bad at relaxing. But at least he's got someone else here with him, so that'll keep him from getting bored. ]

There are some that pop more. Maybe I can find a more exciting one for next time, if you want to?

[Wanda turns to kiss his cheek and then rests her head against his.]

But you're the best part of this bath.

Mmm. Making it exciting is probably counter to the entire purpose.

[ Short of a literal grenade... ]

I certainly wouldn't be sitting around in one if you weren't here to keep me company. [ He smiles. Most baths he's had have involved rolling around in a stream. He's never seen the reason to really linger, nor had the time. ] Trying new things.

It's newer for me. I didn't have nice things like this before I joined the Avengers, and even the best bathtub I had was much smaller.

[She's pretty sure the architects specifically designed this tub for two.]

We can stay as long as you want. I'll keep us warm.

[ Considering the general attitude in Noctium... she's no doubt right.

He settles his chin lightly on her shoulder, arms wrapped around her waist. ]

Then I'll recite poetry for you until we're both wrinkling up.

Contact | Noctium

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Wrap?