Owner	Pose
Wanda Maximoff	It was finally time to face it. Back to the Mansion. Going back into that room. The part of the wall and window that had been blow up had already been repaired by Jarvis and the usage of some robots, courtesy of Tony yet Wanda had made sure that they did not touch the rest. "Let it all remain as was." It was up to her to pick up the pieces after all. And maybe even figure out more on what had happened. And for the first time in her life it was something she didn't have to do alone, Clint being present. The ruckus inside is still noticeable. Broken cabinets, various pieces strewn across the ground of a 'perhaps' mystical origin. Wundagore. Roma. Many trinkets that told of a life on the road. Wanda is currently leaning down on the floor, picking up on a small bracelet of green and red gems, twisting it around her fingertips. Thoughtful.
Clint Barton	Clint is sitting on the edge of the bed, just a short distance away, always watching, always present. He's relaxed, leaning forward slightly as he looks around the room with an experienced eye. Some things look tossed about as if it was staged, others a little more deliberate. The bracelet in hand shines, the light touching the red, bringing a refraction and a seeming glow. His head cants, and brows rise, "Penny for your thoughts."
Wanda Maximoff	The bracelet is held up to the light, the redhead still with a knee to the floor amidst all the confusion, the gems turned here and there as they reflect the mid-afternoon light. "I didn't remember this one." she says after a while. It's a small bracelet, clearly meant for someone small, or young, "And yet it used to be my most prized possession when I was young. Mmm.." she gets back up to her full height, "And now here it is, a barely remembered afterthought." Wanda clearly seems to be in a bit of a somber mood today. Green eyes turn to look to the rest of the room, "And some fully forgotten. I still cannot remember -where- they took that page from. But perhaps there will be some clue lying around. Help me look?"
Clint Barton	Clint rises from his spot on the edge of the bed to approach Wanda as she's on the floor. Reaching out for the tiny bracelet, it seems tiny in his hand. Still, he too brings it to the light. "This has seen you through difficult times," he agrees readily, echoing her own sentiments. "And all that is left is the //feeling// of it having been important. So, I call that a win." Forgetting the little 'individual whats' and leaving behind the feeling that she'd survived to continue on her path. He's always looking for that 'positive'. Clint sets that back into her hand, pressing it gently before he nods, looking around the room once more. "Some things we can ignore. Just a cover. We need to find the place where it seems a little more deliberate."
Wanda Maximoff	A faint smile is offered back at Clint. There's some mirth there on those lips but not as much as perhaps he'd wish. The bracelet is taken and then Wanda stashes it inside a pocket of her blood-red jacket, "Do you think whoever it was would be looking for that specifically?" she wonders, pacing to one of the cabinets that's broken open. Inside there's a few pieces, broken mostly. Or melted. Even if there was no fire at her room. At least none of the non-magical nature. "They went through a lot of work." She notes with a small frown, reaching to bring a few broken pieces out, "Could it have just been a fluke? Coming here to steal my magical stash and coming across .... -that-?" her eyes focus on something, moving some of the broken pieces aside before bringing out a leather case who seems strangely immaculate considering the rest of the destruction around. "I don't remember this."
Clint Barton	Clint is hesitant to touch much in Wanda's room. There are a few 'safe' things, but he can't tell which are imbued with some of that magic and what isn't. So, once the bracelet is back in her possession, he drops his hands into his jeans pockets. He looks around slowly and nods as he does so. "They did. And they tried to hide their tracks as to what they were looking fo- "What?" Clint approaches slowly, his brows creasing, "What is it.. what's inside?" Surely Wanda can tell if something is magical, right?
Wanda Maximoff	Elegant fingertips bring the case out, turning it around slowly as if checking it, thoughtfully, "The lines here...." she runs a finger over the side, "Ancient languages, I do not understand it." she turning the case over to the other side. Gesturing with her free hand a soft faint glow appears on her fingers, the lock coming open and the case moving up so as to reveal... Nothing? Well, not nothing. There is what might have been a book inside it but the pages have burned down to a crisp. Interestingly enough the smell of it burning is still in the air now that the case was opened and it smells -wrong-. Foul even. "It was in here." she says quietly, "Gone. But I might be able to follow the patterns of it's magic." which may mean they will soon be pursuing it.
Clint Barton	Clint watches, his posture turning protective against what? No idea, but it's there all the same. Not that he can do much against magic, but the physical? He's pretty sure he's got it in spades! As such, his stance changes just a little, the tension is there, but not in a bad way, but just... he's ready. The acrid smell of the burnt paper reaches his nose, and he whistles softly, "Worse than my sock drawer.." and that's saying a lot! It is wrong. It's not the smell of just paper, but.. even he can tell it's not right. Not.. normal. "But it wasn't yours." Clint is confused, but he's willing to go along with it all. Still, here comes the protective streak. "You'll be okay with it?"