13937/Hail Britannia

Hail Britannia
Date of Scene:	22 January 2023
Location:	The Coffee Bean
Synopsis:	Brian and Wanda just want a better world.
Cast of Characters:	Brian Braddock, Wanda Maximoff

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Brian Braddock has posed:
Brian doesn't get to New York City very often. As often as he'd like, really. Busy with his doctorate program in Gotham and the occasional heroics means there's not a lot of time for travel. This weekend is an exception, however. A friend of his got married the night before in the city and he made some time to come celebrate.

Having managed to get out of bed at a reasonable hour despite the late night and the multiple drinks the night before, Brian shot a text to an old friend he met while in London to see if she wanted to meet up for a coffee. Luckily, she agreed.

Wrapped up in a dark blue scarf and bundled up in a long coat, Brian tugs open the door of the Coffee Bean and steps inside. A hard shiver creeps its way through his body as the warmth inside envelops him. He glances down at his watch. A few minutes late, of course.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The same can be said for Wanda. No matter her mystic abilities, she doesn't get back to jolly London very often. As often as she'd like, honestly. Busy with saving the world in the company of the Avengers and helping Latverian refugees under an assumed name, she simply cannot afford long stints in the Big Smoke. Nonetheless, there are days the heart pines for a proper cuppa, a nice crumpet, someone to moan or whinge about the endless grey of winter.

New York isn't much better in the winter than Gotham or London, but it has a lack of rain going for it. Snowfall, in this case, leaves a cookie dusting as a flurry goes through. Nothing too dangerous for travel, at any rate. People can be grateful for that, surely, and she is, scarf and gloves in tow. Spotting her isn't too hard, considering that she shows up exactly as she means to. One minute and forty-two seconds ahead of Brian, which puts her right at the moment to coincidentally snag a window-side sofa that is prime territory. "Thank you!" leaves her lips as the pair of tech bros giving up their space might just realize who she is.

Brian Braddock has posed:
The tech bro migration from the sofa catches Brian's attention before he sees the Avenger taking her seat. Yanking the scarf down over his shoulder, he folds it over onto itself a few times as he makes his way to join her, offering a nod and polite smile as the aforementioned bros walk by. Brian is not exactly unknown, but he does have the luxury of having relative anonymity compared to the most famous group of world-saving people on the planet.

"Ms. Maximoff," he says in his proper English voice, his mouth parting in a warm smile.

Looking over towards the server, he offers a polite wave to get her attention before he turns back to Wanda and offers the woman a slight bow, "It's a pleasure to see you!"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Out go the two men in their overcoats and fancy laptop bags, carting a decent cup of coffee in one hand. The day awaits in dove greys and weathered whites, the trundling buses carving paths to reveal damp concrete; in short, not the most impressive view. But the worn couches are comfortable, well-suited for conversation. Wanda claims her spot by tossing her scarf down, the long red and cream confection slithering in a wild meander across the seat. Tada, this is hers! Briefly.

She turns to Brian's voice, her smile widening and followed by a small wave. "Mr. Braddock. Do my eyes deceive me or have I convinced you to seek daylight hours?" A gentle tease there. Everyone knows it's always night in Gotham. Permanently, just to amuse Batman. Her voice is that blend of European influences, her accent Slavic and Romantic at once. His bow gets a laugh, and she deeply inclines her head to the blond English man.

"Truly, enchanted. Come here and catch me up on everything."

Brian Braddock has posed:
Has it ever been daylight in Gotham? There's something in the water in Gotham that makes it citizens unaware of jus how miseerable of a place it is. It's like living on Lower Wacker in Chicago and never making it to the upper section.

Straightening from his unnecessay bow, Brian chuckles to himself and tosses his own scarf on the sofa beside Wanda's, effectively claiming th other half for himself. "I told myself this would be my annual dose of vitamin D so I can spend the rest of the year in the dark where I belong." He shrugs off his coat and folds it, draping it over the arm on his side of the sofa. "Well, unless you're fascinated by theoretical physics, I'm afraid there's not much on which to catch you up," he says as he takes a seat.

The server stops by with a tray to place down a few coasters and to take the pair's order. Brian leans back into the sofa and motions towards Wanda, "After you.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Gotham had sunshine, once. The residents probably broke out in a pox and Poison Ivy felt a soaring sense of optimism. Can't have nice things in Gotham. Just as in Chicago, an entire teeming undercity of cement pillars and subbasements digging into the lakeside become a necessity.

She's chuffed by the bow for all such formality is rarely found outside the highest echelons of prim society. Or Society. She drops her back and pulls off her coat, making clear that Brian and she will claim this sofa in the name of the Queen. King? "Vitamin D is important, and gummy supplements do not count. Though skiing upstate can give you a lovely dose and activity to go with it. Not St. Moritz, I know, but lovely in its own path." She smiles when he offers an explanation of what fills his days, and asides, "Aren't I the embodiment of the principles? Though I'm more comfortable with statistics, sometimes."

The order for her is simple: hot tea, cream, sugar or honey if they have it. With a moment's pause, she adds, "Surprise me with something from the pastry case. It all looks so delicious, we'll be here forever if I have to choose." Another warm laugh as she eases into the conversation.

Brian Braddock has posed:
Skiing. Sure, he's done it before but it's not something he's especially good at. But being out on a mountain that's covered in snow, the cool still air, it's unlike anything else. "I will make a deal with you," he says after she orders then interrupts his own statement to make one of his own. "I'll have what she's having. Plus the biggest bottle of water you have." He smiles at her after the absurdity of the water order, then returns his attention to Wanda. "If you teach me how to properly ski, I'll try to get more sunlight in my diet."

Crossing one leg over the other and fully settling in, Brian's smile lingers, "Saved the world lately?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"You're going to keep me to my resolution. Drink more water." Wanda will wait until the server returns to ask for a bottle of water to go, and the generous tip from her hopefully makes up for being "that" customer. Her hands fold over her knee and she leans forward, attentive to Brian and eager to hear what he has to say. "You haven't been? Then it's my treat and I promise to be much more patient than Pietro. Not many keep up with him, no matter how intelligent." Few but a Flash would.

"I've played my part," she waves a hand lightly to suggest a personal starring role. "Several months ago, a significant population displacement happened in Eastern Europe. Thousands cast out in terrible circumstances. They went from a modern society to the late medieval overnight and you can imagine, most aren't equipped to function with that. I've put some time in helping the most impacted people. At least those that did not want to go straight home to Latveria or Symkaria."

Brian Braddock has posed:
Hearing Wanda mention the displacement of so many people in Eastern Europe, Brian recalls seeing something about it on the front page of the papers and a headline or two online as he was doing some research on his dissertation. While he loves physics and he's enjoying the work he's doing, his life has admittedly become about only that. He's missing out on so much.

The smile fades from his chiseled face and is replaced by a somber expression. "I recall hearing about something that happened, but don't know much about it." The fact that she has personally been involved in assisting speaks volumes about the scope of the situation. That and the fact that she's genuinely one of the good people out there in the world. "I feel embarassed that I'm not more aware of what's going on in the world these days." He uncrosses his legs and scoots back on the sofa so he can lean forward, resting his elbows against the tops of his knees, "How can I help?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Life can't be lived only in study, regardless of what every grad and postdoc candidate claims. Life moves at its own pace outside the ivory tower. Or the spell room, or the prison cell. Sometimes, the luxury of delving into a subject that deeply brings its own rewards otherwise denied, and Wanda reaches for her teacup when it's delivered by the waiter. Two splashes of milk and a sprinkling of sugar from two packets preps the cup to steep and the teabag gets dropped into a leaky metal pitcher. No helping that; in the US, they don't treat teaware well.

"A change of leadership in Latveria," she explains for Brian. Briefly, a bit vague, to avoid too many interested parties. "New, profoundly dangerous technology was assembled to alter the perception of the landscape. It hurt a lot of people who otherwise were defenseless against that. When we pulled them out, the distortion ended and everything snapped back temporally for them. Not everyone is equipped to cope with that."

She leans forward a bit on the sofa, turning her gaze to him. "Do not feel guilty for pursuing your education -- that's important. Take it from someone who was delayed in those opportunities. I don't begrudge you. Sometimes we aren't in a position to help because other demands on our time require attention. If you're truly bothered by it, the Red Cross and UN can always use some help. The camps for the displaced are, unfortunately, still there. You don't need to make a major commitment. It's rewarding work, though."

Brian Braddock has posed:
When the drinks come, Brian follows Wanda's lead and takes his cup, dropping in a splash of milk and pouring in a packet of sugar. Sitting back as he stirs, the spoon emitting dull clinks as it strikes the porcelain. His gaze returns to Wanda and the expression on his face softens as she absolves him of his lack of action when people were in need.

"I'm afraid that simply won't do," he says as he lifts his tea to his lips and takes a quick sip to check the taste. Satisfied, he takes a longer sip and savors the taste and ponders Wanda's suggestion. "Indeed," he says with a nod. He should get back to Europe and see what he could do to lend a hand. Maybe even make a financial contribution. "You're too kind, Wanda. But sometimes it takes something terrible to put everything into perspective. Makes things that seemed important suddenly not so." He glances at her once more, "Do let me know when you intend to return? I would really love to help in any way."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Hot water steams away and if Wanda happens to play her fingers through the pale plume, she isn't doing it for the spark of pain so much as the warmth. The window radiates coolness, though radiators bubbling away keep pushing out warmth. "It may not do, but I will remind you that you can't be everywhere, doing everything. Even Mr. Superman," title applied respectfully, but a tease, "cannot do that, and he probably shoulders most of that duty and expectation. A very delicate step between beating yourself up or acknowledging something you would like to change."

She raises her teacup and doesn't quite sip it, more testing how far it's steeped. "This is the pot calling the kettle black, naturally. I stand by my own foibles and hope to learn from them." A painful reality but it is what it is. She breaks into a faint smile, and takes a sip. "I intend to return in a few days. I put in two week stints, unless necessity gets in the way. They're never far if they need me. Things have been surprisingly quiet, but matters in Symkaria started bubbling up again."

Brian Braddock has posed:
Brian puts his free hand up in a mock gesture of surrender. As best he can given the tea in his other hand. "Of course. You're right," he admits, his smile slowly returning although a bit diminished compared to the joviality from before. "I'm afraid I may be trying to assuage some of the guilt I've felt by keeping my head down. But enough of that." He pats his leg and runs his hand up and down his thigh slowly, the fabric warming from the friction and his palm numbing a bit. "What else?" With all due respect to the struggles in the world, he makes an attempt to focus on less serious matters. It's their first time meeting in so long and with her duties with the Avengers, he's certain she could use a distraction.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The position on the sofa requires a bit of maneuvering to reach the pastries on the plate. One is flaky, covered in a crumbling topping, smelling of apple. It has to wait. "Is there anything I can help with?" Wanda offers, sipping her tea and then holding it close. Jostling her will lead to a bit of a nasty burn, one way or another. "What do you wish to do, if you get your head above water?"

Brian's given an open forum to discuss what he will. The conversations around them aren't too interested in what they have to say, and if anyone looks a little too obviously interested, it's nothing a hex won't fix.

Brian Braddock has posed:
Watching Wanda delicately balance position herself in order to reach the pastry plate, Brian's gaze falls on the treat. His stomach rumbles a gentle reminder of the variety of liquids he filled himself with the night before. The memory immediately rejects any idea of eating something at the moment. It'll be a good idea to get something greasy and spicy on his way back to the hotel. Or he could throw on the union jack suit and feel better instantly. The man likes to earn it though.

"Use something other than my suit to help people," he says finally. "The irony is not lost on me that I am perfectly capable of helping people already," he says, pausing with an 'I-know-how-I-sound-right-now' smile of resignation. "Maybe I can help out in other ways. Invent a gum that takes longer to lose its flavor. You know. /Help/." A corner of his mouth can't help but stretch into a lopsided smile.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
A lopsided grin for Brian follows another sip of the tea, and she finally puts it back. Wanda brushes her hair off her shoulder. "Eat," she says. "You're allowed to clean out the place if you need to. I promise, I'm well used to it." Her own metabolism and that of her twin could cause significant problems if not properly contained, after all!

"You have a good heart. So many people see the suit as a line, a limit. That you cannot do good without it, and for some cases, I suppose that is true. Giving up your identity and your privacy." Not that Wanda has the luxury of that. Being a sorcerer means being less famous than Tony Stark, say, but still very much at risk. Very much in the public eye. She stifles a sigh. "How do you help people? Reduce their dependency on technology. Figure out a way to remove plastics from the ocean. Clean their water supply. Most people do not have regular electricity or food, and they are at the mercy of many different ailments that prey upon them. Which one do you want to tackle first?"

Brian Braddock has posed:
Her insistance on him eating nudges Brian into taking another look at the selection the server decided to bring them. The hangover stomach problems aside, there is a steaming croissant that is catching his eye. Leaning over enough to pinch off the crisp edge, he tosses it into his mouth and washes it down with a sip of tea.

"I asked myself the same question. And to be honest it took me a while. When you can do things that very few others can, it's difficult to conceptualise what else you could do to make a difference." He tears off another bite from the croissant, "Right now, I'm taking a bit of a preemptive approach." Sliding the next bite into his mouth, he leans back and rests his arm over the back of the sofa, crossing his legs once more and turning to face her more. "With all of the droughts and water shortages in the world, figuring out how to desalinate sea water seems like a reasonable starting place. Maybe buy us enough time to figure out how to get the plastic and trash out of the water as well."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Easing languidly back into position brings Wanda comfortably curled up again. Back where she wants to be, basking in the snowshine. Sunsnow? Whatever one calls daylight seeping through the flurries, making the world a bit brighter. She lowers her eyelids a bit, arranging herself a little more to the side. "One of the perils of creativity. When there is no limit, what direction should you take? Where do you proceed? The luxury of choice can be a prison of itself, sowing indecision as freely as having no option at all."

Her smile returns while she reaches for the teapot and pours the rest of the warm water into the cup. The temperature isn't an issue; she puts her finger to the rim and a jolt ripples through, spreading widely until the friction stirring up the atoms creates a spiral of heat. Moving it away finally brings a murmur of satisfaction. "Desalination has the issue of considerable electricity or energy required to do it, and likewise what to do with all the salt. It's a time-consuming and energy-hungry process. Though essential to a degree, especially for coastal communities. Finding some way to break down plastic would be my choice, but it's not as if I can snap my fingers and say 'biodegradable plastics', and expect that to happen."

Well. There is.

Just who wants to upset her enough to do it?

Brian Braddock has posed:
Wanda's knowledge of the energy needs to be able to desalinate water in useful quantities, not to mention what to do with the leftover particulates, makes Brian smile again. "We were looking into ways of making massive improvements to photovoltaic cell efficiency to give ourselves more renewable energy. Fortunaely, other researchers have made significant progress on fusion energy, which may actually solve our problem. And a lot of others as well." The talk of the breakthrough seems to be getting the young man excited, shifting on the sofa like he is fidgeting. He pauses for a moment and ponders, "If these developments take off, I'm hoping it will advance our progress significantly. And then we can turn our attention to plastic!"