[ even if the other avengers -- the only avengers -- are no longer pursuing them, it's important they stay sharp and prepare for anyone who might. the next inhuman assassin to creep out of the woodwork may not resolve their assignment as amicably as bucky has, himself a scale-breaking event that continues to splinter the world in distant, unseen ripples. training with him is most like training with natasha. equally ruthless but he manages to hit harder. she hasn't won against him once in hand-to-hand. it gives her a goal within reach from wakanda, something to propel her forward.
or put a stopper in her thoughts entirely. after the meeting, her foot taps incessantly and she wears the edge of her thumbnail thin with her teeth. she abhors being so easy to read. scott asks her if she's feeling antsy, cringes at himself, and intuits, albeit aloud and stumblingly, that he should just leave the room. throughout the day they disperse from the embassy as their individual business is concluded. wanda remains close, intermittently devouring a dish of dried stew and porridge from a sudanese food stand while she relieves some of her empty energy watching the local wakandans in the market.
it reappears undeterred when her eyes pass over the large photo printed under bold lettering she can't translate: black and white, with the resolution and angle of a security camera. it shows them collected on the berlin tarmac from afar, moments before the battle broke out in earnest. they are distinguishable entirely by their costumes, which they've all agreed to shelve along with any of their more distinct advantages as the "dust settles." (wanda thought, when was the last time it touched the ground?)
by 20:00 she's changed into her training clothes and is throwing telekinetic bolts at punching bag to slake her impatience and keep her forms fresh in muscle memory. as the minutes go by, she tells herself it's not worth wondering whether bucky will announce his arrival or not. the challenge will be the same. ]
no subject
[ even if the other avengers -- the only avengers -- are no longer pursuing them, it's important they stay sharp and prepare for anyone who might. the next inhuman assassin to creep out of the woodwork may not resolve their assignment as amicably as bucky has, himself a scale-breaking event that continues to splinter the world in distant, unseen ripples. training with him is most like training with natasha. equally ruthless but he manages to hit harder. she hasn't won against him once in hand-to-hand. it gives her a goal within reach from wakanda, something to propel her forward.
or put a stopper in her thoughts entirely. after the meeting, her foot taps incessantly and she wears the edge of her thumbnail thin with her teeth. she abhors being so easy to read. scott asks her if she's feeling antsy, cringes at himself, and intuits, albeit aloud and stumblingly, that he should just leave the room. throughout the day they disperse from the embassy as their individual business is concluded. wanda remains close, intermittently devouring a dish of dried stew and porridge from a sudanese food stand while she relieves some of her empty energy watching the local wakandans in the market.
it reappears undeterred when her eyes pass over the large photo printed under bold lettering she can't translate: black and white, with the resolution and angle of a security camera. it shows them collected on the berlin tarmac from afar, moments before the battle broke out in earnest. they are distinguishable entirely by their costumes, which they've all agreed to shelve along with any of their more distinct advantages as the "dust settles." (wanda thought, when was the last time it touched the ground?)
by 20:00 she's changed into her training clothes and is throwing telekinetic bolts at punching bag to slake her impatience and keep her forms fresh in muscle memory. as the minutes go by, she tells herself it's not worth wondering whether bucky will announce his arrival or not. the challenge will be the same. ]