[It's a cheery clearing, when it's not pouring rain. Green and gold lights hang from the branches of nearby trees, powered by some strange glowing sap. There's magic here, strange plants from the Otherworld that had been gifted to her by her friends among the fae, and even from her home's architecture it seemed obvious that that particular rumor was true. The townsfolk may call her a monster and whisper terrible stories of the things that happen here, but this is not a place of horror and death.
Still, it's best to be prepared. Sometimes a desperate person will either seek her out or stumble upon her, but Wanda does fear the day someone might decide to Do Something about the weird witch in the woods. So the lights serve another purpose, acting as wards to alert her whenever someone crosses them.
She feels it, feels pain behind it, and rushes to the window. Oh no.
If Wanda's instinct is to cry out upon seeing him, it's not because of what he is but the state he's in. Wanda's never turned away someone in need before and she's not starting now, whoever or whatever he is.
She rushes into the rain, a thin shield of scarlet power forming over her more for his sake than hers. She knees at his side, gently laying a hand on his shoulder.]
Can you hear me? You're safe now.
[She could lift him into her home, and probably will, but she's learned that it's best not to open with that.]
[He's not sure how long he's out (it's not more than a few seconds, actually), but all of a sudden there's a touch on his skin and he jerks back awake and into panic mode, scrambling back and managing to entangle himself even worse in the undergrowth. But after the initial surprise, it wears off quickly to be replaced by confusion - the rain's stopped, and there's a red light above him? It's not the yellow-orange glow of fire; it entrances him, and he begins to notice the green and gold lights around him in the trees, too. Where am I?
And then the person catches his eye again, and he inhales sharply. He tries to speak, but he's still figuring out how this all works and it sounds slurred, like he's never used his mouth before.]
Don' touch me! 'm dangerous.
[And even as he says it, tears prick at his eyes. Those two bright minds--dead because of him, he's sure of it. So many confusing voices, but they'd all agreed on one thing: he was a monster. Better to leave him out in the forest.]
[Wanda stays where she is, watching him carefully like he's an injured animal. Is it her magic? No, his expression when he looks at it can only be described as some sort of wonder. And now that she can see him more clearly, she's almost certain that he's some sort of golem, just...different, somehow. She can feel his mind, his emotions, and it's nothing like being in the presence of the only other golem she'd encountered.
He's so...so pure underneath the pain. So special. He must have the most beautiful mind Wanda's ever seen and her heart is absolutely breaking for him. It's odd...she knows nothing else about him and yet those tears have her wanting to pull him into her arms and promise that she'll keep him safe.]
You can't hurt me, [she says gently, slowly extending a hand.] It's all right. I want to help you.
[Her tone has the desired effect; he starts to calm down a little without even realizing why. When she says she wants tp help him, he breathes in sharply. Can she help him? And she says he can't hurt her - he's not sure why, but he actually believes that; if nothing else, he wants it to be true.
Carefully, he takes her hand and starts extricating himself from the bushes. It's warm, like a human hand, even where bits and pieces of metal show on the surface. He's absolutely filthy, but here and there where the metal shine through it's clear that there are magical symbols etched lightly all over him, and most obvious of all there's a yellow gem radiating with magical energy set into his forehead.
Once he's standing (tall, he's quite tall), he looks at her curiously, still shy and wary, not sure if he'll need to run away again after all.]
[The first thing she notices is how warm he is. He doesn't look human, but if she were to close her eyes, it would be hard to tell the difference beyond the metal plates in his skin.
Not as if that matters to her. Her best friends are fae, after all, and there's an odd beauty to him despite the dirt and blood. The magical symbols run gracefully over his skin, and the gem in his forehead radiates with a similar brilliance to the purity of his mind. And his eyes...
Wanda doesn't release his hand once he's able to stand - he's so much taller than she is in a way she finds she likes and her breath catches in her throat.]
I'm Wanda. And this is my home. [She feels a little breathless, a little caught off guard in a way she hasn't been in a while.] Please...come inside. You're hurt and you could get sick out here.
[Can he get sick? She's never known anyone like him before...better to be safe than sorry.]
Wanda. [He says it carefully, so as not to slur his words. It might take a little while to get used to speaking, but he's not going to improve without practice.
It doesn't occur to him to reciprocate with his own name. He's not sure he has one.
He nods at her suggestion and follows her into the cabin. His movements are smooth, graceful, nothing like that frantic scramble that got him tangled up before. A little hesitant, but then, he's had a rough day and he's still in quite a bit of pain.]
--Oh.
[And when he enters, he smiles for the first time. Warm and dry, and full of what he can sense as life-energy. Her magic? Or just the traces of someone who's lived here and made it their home? Hard to tell, but it's vastly different from the stone castle tower where he awakened, and that's a comfort to him. The little vines and plants along the walls make it feel alive, and between the candles and herbs and other scents it smells different from the places he's been before, too.]
[She smiles warmly in reassurance that he's said her name correctly, and guides him back to her home under the safety of the scarlet shield. Wanda can sense how much pain he's in and is worried he might fall, but instead of he seems oddly graceful.
And letting go of his hand never really occurs to her.]
Thank you. I tried to make it feel like home.
[Without Pietro she's terribly lonely most of the time...but she's tried. This is probably as good as it can get for someone like her who doesn't really belong anywhere, anyway.
She leads him past the kitchen and dining area to a door on the right, unfortunately away from the cooking fire or the cozy sitting area ahead.]
Here. Once you're cleaned, I can heal you, and then...
[Her thoughts race. Should she offer food? Blankets? She knows he can feel pain and exhaustion, but what about cold and hunger? He's not a man, but neither is he fully a golem. And for all the wonders and horrors she's seen, the so-called Scarlet Witch is completely at a loss for how to proceed.
But there's one thing she's sure of.]
You can stay here as long as you need. I won't let anyone hurt you.
[A series of emotions runs through him, obvious on both his face and if she's reaching out to sense him - a conflict between feeling like he's invading this private space and a desperate longing for something like this to belong to, gratitude at her kindness but still a fear that she'll be hurt because of him, a desire to sit by the fire and get dry but also to clean up in the bath so he won't get her house any dirtier, the accompanying headache from thoughts flying a million miles a second and trying to process everything happening to him with very little context for it all, and above all the emotional exhaustion of dealing with the past few hours.
Cleaning up is a nice, simple way to start, if he can figure it out.]
Thank you.
[He loosens his grip on her hand so he can step into the deep bath, gasping a little at its warmth and then quickly immersing his whole body - no need to undress, as he isn't wearing anything. He'd picked up a bit of a chill from the rain, but it normalizes quickly in the water. Some of the larger chunks of mud and plant matter begin to drift loosely off, but he doesn't seem to recognize what the soap and washcloth are for.
He closes his eyes and lets himself breathe in the warm vapor for a few moments. When he speaks again, the words are still a bit slurred, but noticeably better than they were before.]
[They only part when it's absolutely necessary, and even then Wanda's fingers slip out of his grasp rather than pull away. She whispers something in another language to heat the water with another flare of power and takes a seat on the edge of the bath.
She has to mentally pull away from him then - she can't handle both of their racing minds without risking a terrible headache and she needs to be baseline functional to actually heal him.]
Because you need help. You're not a monster, [she answers simply, reaching for a small golden bottle and pouring a light purple liquid into the water. A lavender-based bath oil, apparently, but there's power in it meant to soothe the mind and relax the body.
She knows she should probably leave him to it and go now. He's already completely naked and isn't so injured that he can't clean himself and yet...he seems more likely to fall asleep if she leaves him alone. Maybe he's too tired...or maybe he doesn't know what to do. His creators clearly haven't taken very good care of him.
Staying might be a kindness. But it has to be his choice.]
[His creators didn't get much of a chance to take care of him, not before everything went bottoms-up. So while he knows he ought to be clean, he hasn't the foggiest idea what that entails; he nods in answer to her question, still biting his lip and thinking about you're not a monster.]
Please. I do need help.
[He doesn't seem to have a problem at all admitting that, nor does he give any indication that all the signs of magic around might be something to be wary of. Why should he? There might have been some science involved in his creation, but all the rest is magic, pure and simple.
She does help him clean off his arms, and it gives him enough of an idea that he can scrub over the rest of his body on his own. It takes a few washcloths, and when he's done the water in the bath is pretty cloudy. But some mechanism (more magic?) keeps it flowing, and both soap and dirt (and blood) drain away to be replaced with clean water. Once he's clean, he steps out of the tub, and his body is revealed in full - tall, well-made, and human in shape except for a notable lack of genitals. All over the bluish metal are magical symbols and writing, some undoubtedly familiar to her but some from obscure texts even she might not know.
With a bit of prompting he grabs a towel and spends some time figuring out how to dry himself off. When he speaks his enunciation continues to improve, but there's hesitancy in his words.] I...am sorry for tracking in mud to your house.
Edited (words have meaning) 2018-10-22 19:13 (UTC)
[Look, okay, sometimes fae fussiness is a good thing. The baths in Wanda's house are smaller replicas of ones commonly found in the Otherworld, and it's times like these where she is very grateful she doesn't have to worry about dirty water or a mess in the tub.
Cleaned, he really is beautiful and though she's trying to remain as professional as possible Wanda can feel her cheeks heating. There was clearly a great deal of care in his creation. His body is perfect, if she's being entirely honest, and the magic that sustains him very precisely woven into and through his flesh.]
You don't need to apologize. Mud can be cleaned.
[She's hovering with a furrowed brow, both inspecting his body for injuries and ready to lend a hand where his knowledge fails him. Fortunately Wanda is not so easily distracted by the memory of his skin under her hands or the sight of his naked body when she's in a healer's mindset.]
Vision. [She repeats it, smiling warmly at him.] It's nice to meet you.
[Okay, it's a little late for introductions and she can feel her mother's disapproval at her lack of manners, but to be fair, he did stumble naked into her bushes.]
I see some places you're hurt. [Her hand begins to glow again, but it's nothing more than raw power.] I can heal you, but it might feel a little strange. Is that all right?
[He finds himself smiling shyly in response.] I am glad to meet you, Wanda.
[There are little lacerations and bruises everywhere, a few large scrapes from close encounters with trees, and a set of throbbing pulses along his spine where the lightning energy originally flowed into him that haven't recovered yet. Add to that the exhaustion of running and the heartache from everything else, and he feels sore all over. So it's with no real reluctance that he nods to her question.]
Yes.
[Because when everything is new to you, what isn't strange?
Still, the wounds close up and the battered flesh knits itself together again, joining comfortably with the metal in a way that flesh usually doesn't. And--he has no idea this is happening, but the hunger he was feeling before vanishes as well. To him it's just a different kind of discomfort, but perhaps in the future he'll be able to eat to heal himself.
When she finishes, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek gently. He's still exhausted, but the absence of pain is unspeakably good.] Thank you.
[Healing has always been a particularly intimate experience for Wanda. It has to be by its very nature: her power in its most raw form flowing into another's body and encouraging it to become whole again. And since Wanda has to direct it very closely, the end result is a lot of feather-light touches and prolonged hovering. She's most aware of just how intimate this particular healing has become when she kneels at his feet to tend to the injuries on his legs. She hadn't really thought about it first, it just...happened.
She also wasn't really thinking when she rested a hand on his newly-healed shoulder to steady herself as she worked on the worst of the injuries on his spine. Not until afterwards, when she pulled away and felt the familiar ache of loneliness. It gnaws at her while she works her way around his arm to his chest to finish, but she doesn't touch him again. She...probably should have been more careful not to touch him at all. That's usually best, but Vision's been so unafraid of her that she'd just forgotten.
And so she has no defense when he cups her cheek in thanks, not a single speck of resolve to prevent her from sighing in relief, closing her still-glowing eyes, and leaning into that touch. A heartbeat later, her hand comes up to rest lightly on his.
Her eyes are green again when she opens them to meet his, feeling extremely exposed but not vulnerable. There are only pure intentions behind the touch. She feels it and that must be why something in her has crumbled so quickly.
She's blushing again, but it takes a moment to find her words or her feet.]
I should...I think there are clothes here that will fit.
[And with that, she ducks her head and darts behind him to check one of the wardrobes. At the very least, there should be some sleeping pants in here that will fit him.
And hopefully she'll have recovered before she has to turn to face him again.]
[Luckily (?) for him, Vision doesn't exactly understand what might be intimate about having Wanda kneel in front of him. He's a little bit confused as to why he might need clothes, but he is just following her lead here.
That was a nice feeling, though, having her rest her cheek against his hand like that. It feels like the least he can do to thank her - he may not know much, but he does know magic isn't easy to use, not with the kind of precision she's shown him. Maybe that's why her blood flow suddenly increased? He's not sure why else her face would have turned red just as soon as that glow from her eyes faded.
He takes the offered pants and considers them thoughtfully.]
How do I wear them?
[Yes, he's seen people wearing pants, but it wasn't exactly what he'd been focusing on at the time. And it seems obvious you're supposed to get them on your legs somehow, but it's not like he's ever worn clothing before.]
[They're soft black pants with a drawstring waist - should be forgiving enough fit-wise.]
Like this--
[Wanda turns back to him to demonstrate but has a little more time before she has to meet his gaze again. Good. Her cheeks still feel warm.]
You balance on one leg and put the other through, and then balance on that leg to put the other one in. And then you pull it up to your waist and tie it.
[Her skirts are in the way so she can only get the pants up to her knees but hopefully it's enough. She shuffles out of them, straightens, and hands them back to him.
Fortunately, she seems to have mostly recovered by now.]
You don't have to wear it if you don't want to, but I thought you might be more comfortable.
[He picks up on it quickly enough, at least. They seem unnecessary, but then again if he were to get dirty again, it would be easier to wash the cloth. Still, they feel restrictive despite being very loose as far as clothing is concerned. He supposes it's worth trying out. People do seem to wear clothing a lot.
He ties them at the waist and moves around a bit, experimentally.] Is this correct?
[And he does feel...better. Not just because of the healing and the bath, though those help, but it's starting to sink in that it's safe here, with this strange, kind woman. He's not even quite as exhausted as he was. So, still a little hesitant but not as much as before, he glances over at the doorway leading back to the rest of the house.]
[A shirt can be a future lesson, if her frequent guests have even left anything that will fit him.
She smiles and reaches for his hand to lead him from the room. This time the contact is intended purely to be a source of comfort for him, but Wanda would be lying if she said she didn't also enjoy it.]
This is your room for as long as you want to stay.
[Leaving the room, they find themselves facing another door. Wanda continues:] That door is my room. If you need something or you're afraid, I want you to wake me up, all right? I am probably not actually sleeping.
[Moving left is the room they first entered: a shared kitchen and dining space. The cooking fire seems a little off - it's just a little bit too red to be natural fire. Here there are many rugs and furs on the floor, and there's even the tiniest of bars to accommodate her guests.
The table, however, might be most interesting - the tablecloth is richly embroidered with sigils of fae origin seamlessly woven into the design along the edges.]
This is where we eat. I have some soup cooking for later, but I can get anything you want.
[And behind them, past the bedrooms, is the living space. There's a large fireplace here, still with odd red-tinted fire, surrounded by very comfy chairs and piles of extra pillows and blankets. Ivy winds around the fireplace and the mantel is covered in candles and crystals, The rugs here are more luxurious than the ones elsewhere in the house, clearly made for sitting on.
There are several musical instruments in the room, too, and a small scattering of sheet music.]
This is the living room and most of my books. You can read anything you want, and I have some games if you want to learn.
[There's the basement, and the ladder to the loft, and Wanda thinks about leaving it at that but...no, the loft is a treat and she wants to see the look on his face.]
[Vision trails Wanda around the house, mostly quiet as he drinks in the sights and concentrates on details. The kitchen in particular is full of little things he'll want to look at later, and it smells...different in a good way. He's not sure what soup is or if he wants anything to eat, but he nods along to her statement.
When he gets to the living room, he smiles shyly - perhaps the first time he's done that, ever. He approaches the fireplace and holds out his hands to warm them, closing his eyes and relaxing just as he had in the hot bath. After a few long breaths, he opens his eyes again and turns to her, the glow of his smile still on his face and in his eyes.]
I like this. This is good.
[And it's not just the fire, though he takes its reddish color as a sign of welcome. After all, he's rather reddish himself. But this room is comfortable. Every piece of it is something that can be used or admired, none of it wasted. He can easily picture himself here--although at that thought his smile fades, replaced by a furrowed brow.] Do you...live here alone? [Because it's a large space for only one person, isn't it?
But then at the question he perks up. She looks excited about this loft.] Yes.
[Wanda smiles warmly, glad that he seems to be happy.]
Not completely? Zora is hiding from the storm but you'll meet her soon. And I have friends who sometimes stay with me for a while.
[She's excited enough to show him the loft that she doesn't even realize that by starting up the ladder first, she's given him a direct view up her skirt. Oops.
...but the loft really is stunning. Ivy mingled with softly glowing blue and purple flowers covers the ceiling and a small altar casts gentle silvery light, so while there are many candles up here, there's no need for them beyond setting the mood.
Wanda may use this room for being closer to cosmic energy, but it's also something between a meditation area and a lovers' retreat. The bed in the far corner is a nest of soft furs, blankets, and pillows. She's only brought someone here a bare handful of times, even counting this, but she doesn't mind. Vision can't have seen much beauty in his short life. Maybe he'll like the flowers.]
[Oh, that's good. She shouldn't live by herself. No person as compassionate as she is should have to be alone. But it does worry him a little bit - if this Zora is afraid of the storm, will she be afraid of him, too?
The worry is pushed from his mind when he pokes his head up to the loft (alas, not noticing the view up Wanda's skirt as anything out of the ordinary). There's a power here he can feel, and it's similar enough to the magic that made him that he's able to relax again. And it's cozy, and the plant life makes it even more welcoming. That elusive smile comes out to play again, and the patter of rain on the roof above them finally sounds comfortable instead of threatening.]
It's beautiful.
[He takes her hand again, because she seems to like that.]
I am...truly welcome to stay here with you?
[It's what she's said before, but it still seems appropriate to ask. Maybe after some time he'll feel the need to leave, but right now what he needs is a peaceful place to process everything that's happened to him, to try and figure out who he is.
And it's starting to become clear to him that not only is this the right place to do that, Wanda might be the right person to help him out with it, too.]
[His smile is so inadvertently charming that Wanda find herself smiling back. She found him beautiful even when he was covered in dirt and mud, but when he smiles like that she can feel her heartbeat pick up.
She'd like to see him smile like that more, she thinks. And these little touches...
It feels right to hold his hand, something deeper than the simple relief of contact.]
As long as you want, [she says softly, ever-so-tentatively raising her free hand to cup his cheek in mirror of his earlier actions. She'll pull away if he seems uncomfortable, but if not...if they both like these reassuring touches, what point is there in suffering separately? He's initiated almost as much with her as she has with him.]
I'd like that, too. It is...lonely here, sometimes. But safe.
[He closes his eyes to better focus on the sensation of her hand. Knowing the intent behind the touch isn't fear or hostility makes such a difference to him. After a moment he opens his eyes again and looks at hers, searching for the sincerity behind her words and finding it easily enough. (He doesn't realize how different his eyes look, compared to a human's. How is he supposed to know they have hints of arcane symbols in their depths, or that they're a brilliant color? Maybe he'll figure it out once he has a mirror to look at.)]
I want to be safe. [And there's that small smile again.] But--perhaps not lonely, if you are here?
[Her hand lingers. Wanda could get lost in those eyes, especially here where the soft blueish light makes them appear even more brilliant. She hadn't noticed before, between the shock of seeing him and her focus on tending to his injuries, but they have a certain strange beauty she doesn't want to tear her gaze away from.
And this time, her cheeks heat again when he smiles. He evokes such soft emotions in her and it's...nice, to feel connected to someone again. Maybe even wanted. Either way, Wanda finds she welcomes this new vulnerability.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
3spooky5me
Still, it's best to be prepared. Sometimes a desperate person will either seek her out or stumble upon her, but Wanda does fear the day someone might decide to Do Something about the weird witch in the woods. So the lights serve another purpose, acting as wards to alert her whenever someone crosses them.
She feels it, feels pain behind it, and rushes to the window. Oh no.
If Wanda's instinct is to cry out upon seeing him, it's not because of what he is but the state he's in. Wanda's never turned away someone in need before and she's not starting now, whoever or whatever he is.
She rushes into the rain, a thin shield of scarlet power forming over her more for his sake than hers. She knees at his side, gently laying a hand on his shoulder.]
Can you hear me? You're safe now.
[She could lift him into her home, and probably will, but she's learned that it's best not to open with that.]
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And then the person catches his eye again, and he inhales sharply. He tries to speak, but he's still figuring out how this all works and it sounds slurred, like he's never used his mouth before.]
Don' touch me! 'm dangerous.
[And even as he says it, tears prick at his eyes. Those two bright minds--dead because of him, he's sure of it. So many confusing voices, but they'd all agreed on one thing: he was a monster. Better to leave him out in the forest.]
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He's so...so pure underneath the pain. So special. He must have the most beautiful mind Wanda's ever seen and her heart is absolutely breaking for him. It's odd...she knows nothing else about him and yet those tears have her wanting to pull him into her arms and promise that she'll keep him safe.]
You can't hurt me, [she says gently, slowly extending a hand.] It's all right. I want to help you.
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Carefully, he takes her hand and starts extricating himself from the bushes. It's warm, like a human hand, even where bits and pieces of metal show on the surface. He's absolutely filthy, but here and there where the metal shine through it's clear that there are magical symbols etched lightly all over him, and most obvious of all there's a yellow gem radiating with magical energy set into his forehead.
Once he's standing (tall, he's quite tall), he looks at her curiously, still shy and wary, not sure if he'll need to run away again after all.]
Who are you?
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Not as if that matters to her. Her best friends are fae, after all, and there's an odd beauty to him despite the dirt and blood. The magical symbols run gracefully over his skin, and the gem in his forehead radiates with a similar brilliance to the purity of his mind. And his eyes...
Wanda doesn't release his hand once he's able to stand - he's so much taller than she is in a way she finds she likes and her breath catches in her throat.]
I'm Wanda. And this is my home. [She feels a little breathless, a little caught off guard in a way she hasn't been in a while.] Please...come inside. You're hurt and you could get sick out here.
[Can he get sick? She's never known anyone like him before...better to be safe than sorry.]
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It doesn't occur to him to reciprocate with his own name. He's not sure he has one.
He nods at her suggestion and follows her into the cabin. His movements are smooth, graceful, nothing like that frantic scramble that got him tangled up before. A little hesitant, but then, he's had a rough day and he's still in quite a bit of pain.]
--Oh.
[And when he enters, he smiles for the first time. Warm and dry, and full of what he can sense as life-energy. Her magic? Or just the traces of someone who's lived here and made it their home? Hard to tell, but it's vastly different from the stone castle tower where he awakened, and that's a comfort to him. The little vines and plants along the walls make it feel alive, and between the candles and herbs and other scents it smells different from the places he's been before, too.]
's beautiful.
no subject
And letting go of his hand never really occurs to her.]
Thank you. I tried to make it feel like home.
[Without Pietro she's terribly lonely most of the time...but she's tried. This is probably as good as it can get for someone like her who doesn't really belong anywhere, anyway.
She leads him past the kitchen and dining area to a door on the right, unfortunately away from the cooking fire or the cozy sitting area ahead.]
Here. Once you're cleaned, I can heal you, and then...
[Her thoughts race. Should she offer food? Blankets? She knows he can feel pain and exhaustion, but what about cold and hunger? He's not a man, but neither is he fully a golem. And for all the wonders and horrors she's seen, the so-called Scarlet Witch is completely at a loss for how to proceed.
But there's one thing she's sure of.]
You can stay here as long as you need. I won't let anyone hurt you.
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Cleaning up is a nice, simple way to start, if he can figure it out.]
Thank you.
[He loosens his grip on her hand so he can step into the deep bath, gasping a little at its warmth and then quickly immersing his whole body - no need to undress, as he isn't wearing anything. He'd picked up a bit of a chill from the rain, but it normalizes quickly in the water. Some of the larger chunks of mud and plant matter begin to drift loosely off, but he doesn't seem to recognize what the soap and washcloth are for.
He closes his eyes and lets himself breathe in the warm vapor for a few moments. When he speaks again, the words are still a bit slurred, but noticeably better than they were before.]
Why are you helpin' me?
no subject
She has to mentally pull away from him then - she can't handle both of their racing minds without risking a terrible headache and she needs to be baseline functional to actually heal him.]
Because you need help. You're not a monster, [she answers simply, reaching for a small golden bottle and pouring a light purple liquid into the water. A lavender-based bath oil, apparently, but there's power in it meant to soothe the mind and relax the body.
She knows she should probably leave him to it and go now. He's already completely naked and isn't so injured that he can't clean himself and yet...he seems more likely to fall asleep if she leaves him alone. Maybe he's too tired...or maybe he doesn't know what to do. His creators clearly haven't taken very good care of him.
Staying might be a kindness. But it has to be his choice.]
Would you like me to clean you?
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Please. I do need help.
[He doesn't seem to have a problem at all admitting that, nor does he give any indication that all the signs of magic around might be something to be wary of. Why should he? There might have been some science involved in his creation, but all the rest is magic, pure and simple.
She does help him clean off his arms, and it gives him enough of an idea that he can scrub over the rest of his body on his own. It takes a few washcloths, and when he's done the water in the bath is pretty cloudy. But some mechanism (more magic?) keeps it flowing, and both soap and dirt (and blood) drain away to be replaced with clean water. Once he's clean, he steps out of the tub, and his body is revealed in full - tall, well-made, and human in shape except for a notable lack of genitals. All over the bluish metal are magical symbols and writing, some undoubtedly familiar to her but some from obscure texts even she might not know.
With a bit of prompting he grabs a towel and spends some time figuring out how to dry himself off. When he speaks his enunciation continues to improve, but there's hesitancy in his words.] I...am sorry for tracking in mud to your house.
no subject
Cleaned, he really is beautiful and though she's trying to remain as professional as possible Wanda can feel her cheeks heating. There was clearly a great deal of care in his creation. His body is perfect, if she's being entirely honest, and the magic that sustains him very precisely woven into and through his flesh.]
You don't need to apologize. Mud can be cleaned.
[She's hovering with a furrowed brow, both inspecting his body for injuries and ready to lend a hand where his knowledge fails him. Fortunately Wanda is not so easily distracted by the memory of his skin under her hands or the sight of his naked body when she's in a healer's mindset.]
What should I call you?
no subject
That is a good question.
[He thinks back, remembering the first few moments before everything went sideways. Had his creators given him a name?
--it worked! It really worked!
Of course it worked! We did all the calculations.
Your calculations aren't always right, you know.
I knew these would be. And now my vision has come to life. What's that banging?--
Ah, yes. There it was. He says it like he's not quite sure, but it's the only thing that matches.]
Vision.
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[Okay, it's a little late for introductions and she can feel her mother's disapproval at her lack of manners, but to be fair, he did stumble naked into her bushes.]
I see some places you're hurt. [Her hand begins to glow again, but it's nothing more than raw power.] I can heal you, but it might feel a little strange. Is that all right?
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[There are little lacerations and bruises everywhere, a few large scrapes from close encounters with trees, and a set of throbbing pulses along his spine where the lightning energy originally flowed into him that haven't recovered yet. Add to that the exhaustion of running and the heartache from everything else, and he feels sore all over. So it's with no real reluctance that he nods to her question.]
Yes.
[Because when everything is new to you, what isn't strange?
Still, the wounds close up and the battered flesh knits itself together again, joining comfortably with the metal in a way that flesh usually doesn't. And--he has no idea this is happening, but the hunger he was feeling before vanishes as well. To him it's just a different kind of discomfort, but perhaps in the future he'll be able to eat to heal himself.
When she finishes, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek gently. He's still exhausted, but the absence of pain is unspeakably good.] Thank you.
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She also wasn't really thinking when she rested a hand on his newly-healed shoulder to steady herself as she worked on the worst of the injuries on his spine. Not until afterwards, when she pulled away and felt the familiar ache of loneliness. It gnaws at her while she works her way around his arm to his chest to finish, but she doesn't touch him again. She...probably should have been more careful not to touch him at all. That's usually best, but Vision's been so unafraid of her that she'd just forgotten.
And so she has no defense when he cups her cheek in thanks, not a single speck of resolve to prevent her from sighing in relief, closing her still-glowing eyes, and leaning into that touch. A heartbeat later, her hand comes up to rest lightly on his.
Her eyes are green again when she opens them to meet his, feeling extremely exposed but not vulnerable. There are only pure intentions behind the touch. She feels it and that must be why something in her has crumbled so quickly.
She's blushing again, but it takes a moment to find her words or her feet.]
I should...I think there are clothes here that will fit.
[And with that, she ducks her head and darts behind him to check one of the wardrobes. At the very least, there should be some sleeping pants in here that will fit him.
And hopefully she'll have recovered before she has to turn to face him again.]
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That was a nice feeling, though, having her rest her cheek against his hand like that. It feels like the least he can do to thank her - he may not know much, but he does know magic isn't easy to use, not with the kind of precision she's shown him. Maybe that's why her blood flow suddenly increased? He's not sure why else her face would have turned red just as soon as that glow from her eyes faded.
He takes the offered pants and considers them thoughtfully.]
How do I wear them?
[Yes, he's seen people wearing pants, but it wasn't exactly what he'd been focusing on at the time. And it seems obvious you're supposed to get them on your legs somehow, but it's not like he's ever worn clothing before.]
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Like this--
[Wanda turns back to him to demonstrate but has a little more time before she has to meet his gaze again. Good. Her cheeks still feel warm.]
You balance on one leg and put the other through, and then balance on that leg to put the other one in. And then you pull it up to your waist and tie it.
[Her skirts are in the way so she can only get the pants up to her knees but hopefully it's enough. She shuffles out of them, straightens, and hands them back to him.
Fortunately, she seems to have mostly recovered by now.]
You don't have to wear it if you don't want to, but I thought you might be more comfortable.
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He ties them at the waist and moves around a bit, experimentally.] Is this correct?
[And he does feel...better. Not just because of the healing and the bath, though those help, but it's starting to sink in that it's safe here, with this strange, kind woman. He's not even quite as exhausted as he was. So, still a little hesitant but not as much as before, he glances over at the doorway leading back to the rest of the house.]
Can I...will you show me around?
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[A shirt can be a future lesson, if her frequent guests have even left anything that will fit him.
She smiles and reaches for his hand to lead him from the room. This time the contact is intended purely to be a source of comfort for him, but Wanda would be lying if she said she didn't also enjoy it.]
This is your room for as long as you want to stay.
[Leaving the room, they find themselves facing another door. Wanda continues:] That door is my room. If you need something or you're afraid, I want you to wake me up, all right? I am probably not actually sleeping.
[Moving left is the room they first entered: a shared kitchen and dining space. The cooking fire seems a little off - it's just a little bit too red to be natural fire. Here there are many rugs and furs on the floor, and there's even the tiniest of bars to accommodate her guests.
The table, however, might be most interesting - the tablecloth is richly embroidered with sigils of fae origin seamlessly woven into the design along the edges.]
This is where we eat. I have some soup cooking for later, but I can get anything you want.
[And behind them, past the bedrooms, is the living space. There's a large fireplace here, still with odd red-tinted fire, surrounded by very comfy chairs and piles of extra pillows and blankets. Ivy winds around the fireplace and the mantel is covered in candles and crystals, The rugs here are more luxurious than the ones elsewhere in the house, clearly made for sitting on.
There are several musical instruments in the room, too, and a small scattering of sheet music.]
This is the living room and most of my books. You can read anything you want, and I have some games if you want to learn.
[There's the basement, and the ladder to the loft, and Wanda thinks about leaving it at that but...no, the loft is a treat and she wants to see the look on his face.]
Do you want to see the loft?
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When he gets to the living room, he smiles shyly - perhaps the first time he's done that, ever. He approaches the fireplace and holds out his hands to warm them, closing his eyes and relaxing just as he had in the hot bath. After a few long breaths, he opens his eyes again and turns to her, the glow of his smile still on his face and in his eyes.]
I like this. This is good.
[And it's not just the fire, though he takes its reddish color as a sign of welcome. After all, he's rather reddish himself. But this room is comfortable. Every piece of it is something that can be used or admired, none of it wasted. He can easily picture himself here--although at that thought his smile fades, replaced by a furrowed brow.] Do you...live here alone? [Because it's a large space for only one person, isn't it?
But then at the question he perks up. She looks excited about this loft.] Yes.
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Not completely? Zora is hiding from the storm but you'll meet her soon. And I have friends who sometimes stay with me for a while.
[She's excited enough to show him the loft that she doesn't even realize that by starting up the ladder first, she's given him a direct view up her skirt. Oops.
...but the loft really is stunning. Ivy mingled with softly glowing blue and purple flowers covers the ceiling and a small altar casts gentle silvery light, so while there are many candles up here, there's no need for them beyond setting the mood.
Wanda may use this room for being closer to cosmic energy, but it's also something between a meditation area and a lovers' retreat. The bed in the far corner is a nest of soft furs, blankets, and pillows. She's only brought someone here a bare handful of times, even counting this, but she doesn't mind. Vision can't have seen much beauty in his short life. Maybe he'll like the flowers.]
What do you think?
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The worry is pushed from his mind when he pokes his head up to the loft (alas, not noticing the view up Wanda's skirt as anything out of the ordinary). There's a power here he can feel, and it's similar enough to the magic that made him that he's able to relax again. And it's cozy, and the plant life makes it even more welcoming. That elusive smile comes out to play again, and the patter of rain on the roof above them finally sounds comfortable instead of threatening.]
It's beautiful.
[He takes her hand again, because she seems to like that.]
I am...truly welcome to stay here with you?
[It's what she's said before, but it still seems appropriate to ask. Maybe after some time he'll feel the need to leave, but right now what he needs is a peaceful place to process everything that's happened to him, to try and figure out who he is.
And it's starting to become clear to him that not only is this the right place to do that, Wanda might be the right person to help him out with it, too.]
I would like that very much.
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She'd like to see him smile like that more, she thinks. And these little touches...
It feels right to hold his hand, something deeper than the simple relief of contact.]
As long as you want, [she says softly, ever-so-tentatively raising her free hand to cup his cheek in mirror of his earlier actions. She'll pull away if he seems uncomfortable, but if not...if they both like these reassuring touches, what point is there in suffering separately? He's initiated almost as much with her as she has with him.]
I'd like that, too. It is...lonely here, sometimes. But safe.
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I want to be safe. [And there's that small smile again.] But--perhaps not lonely, if you are here?
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And this time, her cheeks heat again when he smiles. He evokes such soft emotions in her and it's...nice, to feel connected to someone again. Maybe even wanted. Either way, Wanda finds she welcomes this new vulnerability.]
Yes. We don't need to be alone anymore.
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