12616/Inheritance I: Beginnings

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Inheritance I: Beginnings
Date of Scene: 29 August 2022
Location: Cedar HIll
Synopsis: The beginnings of trouble start with a bit of friendship and sunshine.
Cast of Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Stephen Strange




Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The Avenger who holds the title of the Scarlet Witch does not stand on formality very much. When she wants to make her presence known, no puffs of smoke or eldritch message alights in the mind. Arguably the world's more dangerous sorcerer knows how to use a phone.

A call that culminates in a place, Cedar Hill with its stately, fragrant row of trees. A time, mid-morning when the commuting crowd isn't rushing around and tourists won't be agog to find someone like her around. Or him; her target, Doctor Strange, has his own following surely.

The sticky heat of late August means pulling none of her sweaters and jeans out of the closet quite yet. She fares better than some in a peasant blouse and shorts. Very casual, all things considered, when paired with bright purple hiking boots.

Stephen Strange has posed:
It is apparent that the Sorcerer Supreme got the memo, at least in terms of dress attire. As much as the pomp and circumstance appreciates a flowing cloak with all the regal flair that it provides, sometimes a lower (and certainly cooler) profile is needed. And, as such, the good Doctor strolls through Central Park, approaching the familiar red cedar line that gives the hill its name. For him, casual is a polo shirt. Blue, of course, with a pair of jeans and some sensible shoes. Nothing too flashy at all.

A quick check of the phone gives Stephen the time. He was supposed to meet Wanda at this time. That request, in and of itself, is unusual. The fact that she called? Not so much. Still, when Wanda calls, people tend to respond. And should. The grey eyes lift up, surveying the area...and land upon the bright purple boots. Even in a vast metropolis (little m) like New York, purple hiking boots are not necessarily a common item. And...a quick glance upward to their owner...and a slight smile curls the corners of Strange's lips. It would appear that he found his rendezvous.

And...with that, Strange strides for the purple boot-clad individual. And...the first thing he says when reaching Wanda? It isn't hello, or even good morning. No. The first thing that Stephen says is...

"Love the boots."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Walking around with a pointed crown announcing, "I am Magneto's daughter," generally doesn't work well with civvies. Wanda has spent the past few months more or less incognito. She blends pretty well as a civilised sort of person out for a walk in the nearest thing that Manhattan still has to wilderness. A chipmunk examines her and a bird swoops past to snatch an insect not far from where Stephen holds down the fort. She pauses, looking about. So spotting the Sorcerer Supreme, she hesitates. Just for a moment, propriety probably reviewed, before giving an awkward finger-wiggle wave. Perhaps the informality might have been a bad choice, but that's to be rendered pretty much moot in a moment.

"Being magenta means they aren't exactly red," she says. The spontaneous grin comes later. "Who wants brown when you can have colour? I'm glad you could get out for a walk. Mornings like this aren't to be missed while we have them."

Stephen Strange has posed:
Glancing down at his own brown shoes, Stephen gives a shrug, then a tip of the head in greeting. "Yes, well, you be surprised how much camouflage a pair of simple brown shoes provide. More effective than the baseball cap, I would wager." That slight smile grows more pronounced as Stephen gets comfortable. "I walked by at least 3 sorcerer impersonators and none of them recognized me. I daresay it is the shoes that did it."

Bringing jokes to the meeting? Stephen must be feeling relaxed. At least, as much as he dares himself to be. Those grey eyes shift away, catching the chipmunk before it scurries off, then onward just a bit farther to spy a cottontail rabbit dart for the safety of the cedar grove. "I will admit. I do not get to walk often enough without some sort of caveat attached to it." Meaning...usually the walking is not necessarily for sight-seeing. "It is rather pleasant to take one's time."

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this stroll?" Ah..getting down to business, as it were. "It is not often you phone. And even less when you wish for a meeting, even if it is casual, such as this. It gets me to wonder, you know. And you must know how I am when I start to wonder." A quick sideline glance is given, just enough to be caught if one is looking. Yes...there is that curiosity. Stephen's interest is piqued.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"No one pays attention to anyone in a hoodie," Wanda murmurs, sharing the great secret. "Sunglasses and brown shoes, essential to remain unknown? I wish I'd learned that before my brother and I joined the Avengers." Those long-ago days of a few years past can't be helped. She slides her hands into her back pockets and treads a light, comfortable gait along the path. Sun shines through the branches, speckling patterns on the soil that's too dry to make any kind of smoking safe or activities involving fire a wise idea.

"A caveat might be company, and a warning. I spent the last three months at UN and EU refugee camps for displaced Latverians." Her braid sways back and forth. "I was reminded by a few things. The value of reaching out to others, making time for moments like these." A nod to the trees encourages their soft sway, the branches in a fringe of green flat needles stroked by spread fingertips. "Life is fleeting. We can go from disaster to disaster, never stopping to enjoy the between times. I met many people who saw that first hand when Felix Faust ripped their lives away with his crystals. He turned a country into his personal vision of paradise, I suppose. A place that was rooted firmly in 1500, give or take a hundred years, depending on where you want to judge it by. Dragons, trolls. People reduced to serfdom. They didn't remember electricity or the finer things they had, but they and their families were terribly disjointed inside and out. So I try to be brave and poke my nose out, so people know I exist, and others get fresh air."

Stephen Strange has posed:
A laugh. Yes, Stephen knows how to laugh. "I am not sure if I can pull off a hoodie. Though, apparently, yes, brown shoes are key. Add sunglasses and a baseball cap and one could virtually disappear into the void of the mundane." At least until Stephen speaks. Then there is no disguising that voice and intellect. Strange's hands, instead of finding solace in the fabric confines of his pants pockets, hang to his sides, the arms swinging slightly to match the pace set forth by Wanda. His eyes are up, gazing through the tree canopy, seemingly looking beyond, to the fragments of blue sky above.

"Company and a warning." A pause in speech, even while Strange continues to walk alongside the Avenger accompanying him. "So, this is an intervention." The amusement is there. "In insuring that you make your presence known, you are also, in turn, insuring that fellow recluses such as I also pull ourselves away from our own little corners and join the world at large." A land lifts up, waggling a finger a playful gesture. "I am on to you, Miss Maximoff. You cannot slide such a plan past me."

That....only leads to another laugh. "You sound like another I know. Still, yes, action duly noted. I shall indeed endeavor to 'poke my nose out' as it were."

Yes, Stephen knows the lesson underneath. And, somehow, he shows that he respects it, even when it seems he is poking fun at it. Because, yes. Stephen does need to get out more.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda shakes her head, breaking into a warm laugh. "Hoodies are too Russian gangster to me. Not something very good, you know?" The slightest traces of her accent definitely hint that she might not have a warm relationship with such hoodie mafiya kinds. The path is littered in a few needles, dust, and the debris of nature baked brown at summer's desiccated end." Her easygoing smile remains through the changing patterns of light and dark, balanced on a good mood. "Oh, not really a warning. I've been hiing from the world doing good things, but things that kept me away from the city. I might have totally failed to notice any social études you've put together or the last symposium to deal with the latest magical danger."

She exchanges a bit of a pause and a smile back to Strange. "Think more an intervention for myself. The way that comes around in autumn. Do you ever feel the change of the leaves inspires you to make a change now and then? It's like that."

Stephen Strange has posed:
"Yes, I completely understand. About the hoodies. I just personally think I lack the body type for it. I don't necessarily fill them out well, you know. I end up looking like a refugee from a Snuggie factory. Just hangs on me." Is Stephen being serious? There is a hint of self-deprecation in there...a sign of a joke. Yet, apart from that, the phrasing could be taken as complete truth. Because, of course, it is. "And no, you didn't miss anything. No mystical TED Talks on how to deal with an dimensional incursion or anything like that. Mostly, just monitoring the minor threats, letting others step in to do what they feel they need and waiting for clean up afterwards. You know, the usual."

Intervention for Wanda...intervention for Stephen. Interventions all around. "I suppose the changing of the seasons does involve a kinds of self reflection. It is certainly more prevalent with the changing of the year, with New Year resolutions that seem almost as mystical as anything we have been known to dabble in. But yes, I understand completely. I often wonder if I should change, every now and then." A moment lingers, as that wistful expression shifts into a particularly wicked grin. "But, then I decide I am just perfect as I am."

Egotistical much? Though...it is apparent Strange is kidding. That grin says he is not completely serious. Thank the gods for that.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Interventions all around, and fortunately none of them involve people named America or Peter. The world can be grateful! Wanda pauses near a bench, sweeping a look through the undergrowth and spotting various strolling people. All of them going on their way, about their business, ignorant that the dimensional guardian and the centre of their very universe stand a short distance away. "I didn't miss anything? That's..." Disappointing? Lucky? "Par for the course, really. After the matter settled down in Latveria, to the point Victor wasn't about to demolish us all, I've found it peculiarly quiet. The space port is in the news, but other than that, it's been relaxed. I'm not actually sure what to do with myself when it's like that. We went from one conflict to another for so long that these pauses feel like they're teasing us. The usual isn't usual."

She shrugs her shoulders mildly and then the moment stretches out, taffy pulled almost to the point of being see-through in light of Strange's grin. "A man of your position wearing that expression would collectively cause the world to quake. I suspect that's why Fate wears the helm. No chance of the maniacal looks." Her jibe is light at best. "Perfection isn't all it's cracked up to be, as they say."

Stephen Strange has posed:
"Well...I try to keep the peace around here. The fact that nothing happened just means we are filling our roles stellarly." A pause in regards to hearing about the spaceport...then continuation on that. "Yes, the Asgardian prince told me about plans for the spaceport. He was inspired to create a dimensional waystation of similar purpose. I suppose I should check on him to see how that is progressing." An aside while walking? It wouldn't be the first time other agendas pop up. Still...Strange doesn't dwell long on it. "I would suppose they are traversing the different realms. Maybe a roadtrip is in order."

Then...shifting to his somewhat jesting demeanor. "Well, as you would certainly know, it can be awfully stifling to play a role that society has decreed. It is not often that I would venture to be so laid-back, as it were. I find this little exercise to be rather exhilarating. At least, for the moment, I am just Stephen and not the Sorcerer Supreme." However, mention of Fate prompts a look few have seen. Minor annoyance mixed with just a touch of confusion. "Oh yes. Nabu. He is a stickler, isn't he? And I thought Agamotto was stiff." Ah...betraying a little of the personal feelings out. "I am quite sure the faceless helm was certainly intended to bring that air of detachment. A little bit of fear with order. I don't necessarily agree with it, but, then again, I have another order to answer to." A beat. "But yes, the helm is rather flashy, isn't it?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"Are we then?" Wanda doesn't proceed further on the line of questioning. Some things must be left for Dr. Strange to chew over or eschew altogether, and she won't make a demand. "Asgard has an interest? It would make things easier for them. How do you feel about a doorway into the world? Isn't that hazardous? I'm aware of the irony of asking, given the asteroid that flies around the Earth and who dwells there." Her grin rises slightly again.

She pushes a branch aside so it's easier for her to take a path that leads out onto the slope, the lawns opening from below the cedar-lined path. "The way I was taught, they were all to be feared. Watched. Nabu, Agamotto, anyone with speckles of power that could exert their will. I don't mean to sound rude or offend. You must know I'm wary of control, given personal reasons. That I'm ever on the lookout for signs something isn't right. The helm is flashy but just one way to hide appearances, though I'm not suggesting the helm makes the man questionable. Very good at hiding a smirk though. Faust's dalliances with magical gems physically altered the way Latverian was, you know. It /was/ the 16th century or 12th or whatever he decided it would be. Pulling that back to keep us squarely in the twenty-first century was one of the harder things I've had to do in my life, even for a while. He had batteries of gems forcing it. That was another reminder to keep the peace and ensure it stays that way. A task of recovering something that likes to fall into wrong hands a lot, for example."

Stephen Strange has posed:
Strange's feelings on a doorway to this world? Yes, he has some reservations on it. However, he does not involve them too deeply now. "I do think that having a fixed entrance has both drawbacks and advantages. I am aware that the Asgardians are taking steps in collecting artifacts to both establish the connection between realms and re-enforce the security of those connections. Essentially, the thought is that if there is a focal point for dimensional travel, then it would be easier to defend that point. Honestly, if it does promote better relations with the other realms, then that is a positive. An unwelcomed intrusion is going to happen, regardless of where. Having a visible target helps to prepare for when a hostile force takes aim at that target, so to speak."

It sounds like Stephen is trying to convince himself at times. Others, it seems he has accepted. Of two minds. And then, to speak of the others. The elder gods...and it is easy to see why Strange may be of multiple mindsets. To consider all of the different viewpoints, both mortal and cosmic, it would take such a tactic to see all of the varying angles. "Yes. That makes sense. To be quite honest, I didn't even consider any of it." 'It' being gods in general, it would appear. "So you can imagine my surprise when, well...this happened." At 'this', Strange just indicates himself, as if what he is now answers everything. "To go from at the most generous description being agnostic to knowing and conversing directly with not just one, but many that would decree themselves gods is a rather jarring experience. Which, I suppose, does help in maintaining that balance and keeping the peace we both do. To know what is supposed to be in comparison to what a single person simply decides it to be."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"I trust Thor's intent, but open doors and closed doors are ways to break in to a place. Perhaps easier than they should be." Wanda raises her hand to push her braid off her shoulder, letting it slap between her shoulders. "We have dangers enough around us. A way for friends to enter too is important, I suppose. My eyes are turned rather toward Europe in the event anything comes stirring out of Russia or Latveria. Faust went somewhere. It's only a matter of time before he turns up like a bad coin."

He always does, too, which gives her tone a certain ndarkness. Only for a few moments, long enough not to really indulge. Instead, she reaches up to the sunshine. "We're still ourselves. No matter what transforms us, we remain at our core who we always have been. Tried, perhaps, by certain burdens."

Stephen Strange has posed:
"We do think alike, you and I. So you see the conflict." And yes, there is similarities between the two. Witch and Sorcerer. Avenger and Defender, when he wants to be. Two people blessed or burdened with unimaginable power, depending on the point of view for that day. While he is focused on interdimensional incursions, she is focused on incursions a little closwer to home. But no less important. "You are right. Danger abounds from all sides. It is only a matter of time."

A gentle sigh...then continuation. "And yes, I suppose we are still the same. We are still ourselves, regardless. It is partly why we are what we are, I would wager."

And...what they are is simple. Presently, two individuals....on a walk....through Central Park. Nothing more at the moment, for the moment requires not much more than that.