WELCOME TO NEXUS.

[Wanda Maximoff]

Irrevocable Bonds

Location: Los Angeles, California
Initial Tag: Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver

Quitting the Avengers was far easier than Wanda could ever of expected. For the first time in her life since her divorce, she had felt nothing but closure as she looked upon the heavily damaged, 'Palos Verdes Drive' Compound one last time. Almost in the same manner that she'd abruptly put up her marital home for sale; she now felt that her penthouse apartment in the suburbs desired a new owner. Someone who could find it in their hearts to love and appreciate the structure and location, just like she once had. As it stood now, it was just too close to the collapsed Headquarters of her equally dilapidated team. Only memories of the West Coast remained; some that she would treasure while others, she would prefer to completely forget.

So, as she relaxed in her favourite armchair with the real estate pages together with a steaming cup of earl grey tea, no power she owned could predict the very sudden ring of her retro, red phone. A call made specifically to her, that would spark a chain of completely unplanned events.

“Are you free for dinner tonight?” The voice had said. “For old time's sake?”

“Yes,” she'd almost stumbled over the single word. “Of course,” she added soon after. Arranging an appropriate time and place, it was already apparent that separation together with tragic and recent events, had made conversation between the old friends very informal. Especially for Wanda, who now felt like a new and very awkward acquaintance. “I look forward to catching up with you.”

Yet the hours had rolled long into the evening, and the time spent reminiscing with an 'old friend' reached an end when the clock struck twelve. A little late for Cinderalla to be out wandering the streets alone perhaps, but Wanda was no ordinary woman. The City of Angels posed little threat to her, especially since she decided to fly over the rooftops of the buildings which would otherwise cause her journey home to be much longer than necessary. Technically, the day was over. The surprises however, had only just begun. She'd chosen the penthouse for two solid reasons; one, because of the aesthetically pleasing location and inner layout, and two, because it had a balcony. Simply put, it made flying home easier, but Wanda wasn't the only mutant who could fly. Neither was she the only Maximoff who had mastered the superhuman ability. It may have been dark, but the lights that made the balcony further serve as her porch, illuminated another presence on her doorstep. A familiar and very welcome face, who was showing a very surprising amount of patience. Not necessarily a good thing. 'Pietro,' she uttered to herself. How long had he been waiting there for her?

The stiletto heels of her dark red, ankle boots, gracefully touched down onto the grey and black, alternating squares of the tiled floor. Her classy and very elegant, long black coat, buttoned completely from the neck down to the waist, to conceal the simple, scarlet dress underneath. Perhaps a little too fancy for just 'dinner with a friend'; her dark, smouldering eye make-up and pinned back back, certainly suggested otherwise to anyone who didn't know her as a woman who simply loved to dress up. Any excuse was a good excuse, and to be frank, this was still quite tame.

Once her feet felt securely grounded, the Scarlet Witch paused for a very brief moment to exchange glances with her midnight guest. A look that said 'don't start. Not out here.' With her keys already pre-emptively in hand, she tossed them towards her guest; knowing full well that he could catch them and unlock the door far quicker than she could. “Make yourself at home, brother.” She finally offered, knowing that he would with, or without her permission.

[Pietro Maximoff]

Patience was a word that had almost no meaning to Pietro Maximoff. Patience, for him, was a matter of seconds, which to him always felt like hours. But this time, at least, he was attempting to show that very small amount of patience that he managed to have whenever it concerned Wanda. Waiting for her outside her penthouse - and this time, literally waiting for hours - was the top demonstration of patience for someone like him. He had paced, he had walked around, he had tapped his foot, and eventually, when he realized the hours were passing, when he realized there would be a lot of waiting still to do, he tried to settle, as much as he was capable of.

There were very few people in the world that he'd actually give that much of himself, that he'd push his very own being aside for.


One of them was Wanda. It had always been. It would always be, no matter how much life insisted on pushing the two of them into different paths and different choices. Even though he might have been very vocal, sometimes even to the point of annoyance, about Wanda's choices in men and more importantly, the one she chose to marry, he never stopped caring about her, not even for one moment. Not even in perhaps what would be the most inconceivable of dreams, he'd stop caring about her.

His blue eyes, attentive as they always were, able to catch everything even at the top of his speeds, didn't fail to notice her attire. Dressing up was something Wanda always liked, but it was almost like she had dressed up this time for someone other than herself. He just knew her that well.Holding back that old jealousy that usually took over him whenever she had one of her prospective dates, he tried to calm himself down, as much as he could. How could any of them even think of being good enough for her?

And her glance at him, the silent words on her blue eyes, they spoke volumes. With the first motion of the keys being tossed towards him, he was gone, then back, in a blur, in the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but the breeze that always came with the air displacement of his movements. He opened the door, and he entered, standing in front of her for a few moments as if trying to find words to say.

What could he say? Where could he possibly begin from?

He swallowed that lump that formed on his throat, before he decided to do one gesture that would speak more than words. He walked to her, and pressed his lips against her forehead. A familiar gesture.

And after what seemed like interminable moments, at least to him, he finally spoke.


"I'm done. With it all." His voice held that hint of veiled anger, cold almost, and if the air could sparkle around him, it would have.

His eyes were pained, and through their bond, that unbreakable bond that had always been there, she'd notice. He was in pain. He was in turmoil and seeking the only safe refuge he's ever known.

[Wanda Maximoff]

As one of the few people who were accustomed to witnessing Quicksilver's mutant ability without shrieking or shrinking away or feeling completely perplexed; Wanda was hardly startled by the fact that he was gone and back again in the sheer, blink of an eye. The breeze of his swift moments eventually fanning across her face, carrying his familiar, musky male scent towards her. Inhaling a deeper breath as her disturbed tendrils of dark hair fell to relax against her shoulders again, her cerulean gaze focused on his silently troubled stance between the doorway. More than ever now, she could already see that something was more seriously bothering him. The urge to move closer seemed to come quicker to him than to her, but Wanda was definitely about to step towards him when he in fact, beat her to the chase. So she stayed still in that half-step; her right hip slanted to accommodate the partly raised heel and slightly bent knee. Then, as he stopped in front of her, and stooped to plant his lips against her forehead, Wanda did what she always did. Her eyelids dropped, as she savoured the tender moment. A deep breath filled her lungs entirely, which she released upon a very faintly vocalised exhale. A troubled and thoughtful sigh that persuaded her eyes to slowly open again.

"I'm done. With it all." Immediately looking up, Wanda indeed caught the pain others would fail to see within Pietro's matching eyes. That brooding look that needed more than just a warm drink and a friendly ear to impart his woes upon. She wanted to be blunt and say 'what is it you have done now Pietro?' After all, he usually seemed most likely to get himself into trouble without her presence.

"I know, brother," she offered in a soothing, understanding tone instead. Ever since she was a child, she'd referred to him with that sibling title, and wasn't about to stop any time soon. At times, purely for the natural or sentimental value, but other times, emphasised to remind her of what he was meant to be. Nothing more. At this point in time, it was affectionate more than anything else, and accompanied her hand as she reached up to gently rest her palm at the side of his jaw. Motherly, sisterly, and above all, lovingly.

"I fear there is much to be discussed." After a brief smile to accommodate the gesture, followed by two, light taps of her fingertips in a gesture to accompany her next suggestion. “Come into the warmth, and tell me what irks you most of all. You know, I'm always dying to hear what mischief found you in our absence.”

Breaking eye contact at last, the Scarlet Witch motioned to move inside her apartment at last, expecting Pietro to follow after or before her in some form or other. Flicking the main light switch on, the large, open-plan room was illuminated in a glow of pale yellow light. From the balcony came the immediate lounge area, complete with red leather sofa and matching armchairs. The furnishings generally very modern; a wall-mounted television, and a very sleek and metallic, red and black kitchen off to the right. A row of stacked bookshelves reached the ceiling on the far, left wall, where a doorway led to her bedroom and adjacent, en-suite bathroom. Quite modest for a penthouse, but she had previously only really spent time here when she wasn't needed at the Avenger's Headquarters. Of course, Wanda expected to be spending the majority of her waking hours here now; a thought that was actually quite depressing. The real estate pages were still spread upon on the coffee table from earlier, along with her half-empty mug of now stone-cold tea.

"Now then. Would you prefer tea, or coffee?" She asked, making an immediate beeline for the kitchen. Slender fingers unlatched each button of her coat on the way, while heels clinked on the wooden floorboards.

[Pietro Maximoff]

When her eyes locked on his, blue staring at blue, he realized just how much he had missed their small moments together. The way they could simply exchange words without speaking, with a glance, with just one look, with locking their gazes on one another and he'd just know what she wanted to say. Sometimes, in the past, he used to catch himself thinking just why they could read one another that well. Sometimes, he chalked it up to that unexplainable twin bond that seemed to be proven true with them in more ways than one. Sometimes, when his mind dared to travel beyond the ordinary, he simply thought there would have never been any other woman - no, better yet, any other human being - that would be capable of fully understanding him but Wanda.

Perhaps it was foolish for him to believe that his ex-wife would ever manage to understand him and respect him like Wanda did. In a way, it was foolish, even though he believed it and for many years hoped for it. In fact, despite the mind control by her insane uncle making him act in ways that were not completely akin to him, he hoped, deep inside, that his wife would have understood. That she would have seen it, and forgiven him for everything he had done. Yet... she didn't. She allowed her fickle, shallow heart to care for others. What kind of love did she have for him? A love so fickle that the moment he had to be away, her heart was already filled with love for someone else but him.

No matter how much they might have disagreed in the past, no matter how much he disapproved of her marriage, Wanda's love for him never disappeared. It had never been fickle. She had never replaced him in her heart.

And now, back with her, with her palm against his jaw, he realized how foolish he had been, thinking that Crystal would have ever understood him. He leaned a little against her touch, closing his eyes for that brief moment that he allowed himself to indulge in the comfort of her touch.

Her voice, however, would bring him back to reality.


"I fear there is much to be discussed." After a brief smile to accommodate the gesture, followed by two, light taps of her fingertips in a gesture to accompany her next suggestion. “Come into the warmth, and tell me what irks you most of all. You know, I'm always dying to hear what mischief found you in our absence.”

He followed her without thinking twice, allowing her to lead him towards the more comfortable areas of her home. A brush of lips against her cheek before he moved to sit on one of the comfortable couches, his elbows on his strong thighs and leaning forward just a little.


"You're right, sister. We have much to talk about." Glancing up at her as she asked him the next question, his lips curved into a small smile. "Coffee would be dangerous. Herbal tea if you have it, thank you."

It all felt slightly less burdensome now. With merely her presence and the fact that he knew, no matter what, she was one woman that would never betray him. Never leave him. Never replace him the moment he had to step away.

Closing his eyes, Pietro swallowed and allowed himself to let out a small sigh. Everything was right again. Or they would be. He knew in a way or the other, Wanda's presence would make everything a little more bearable. He just hoped, however her life had been going lately, that he could provide her with that same amount of comfort that she provided him.

[Wanda Maximoff]

"Coffee would be dangerous. Herbal tea if you have it, thank you."

"Of course."

Having flicked the kettle switch on, Wanda lightly smiled as she opened the maroon cupboard door overhead, and scanned the collection of boxes of herbal teas. 'Peppermint, Blackberry, Camomile and Honey, Lemon and ginger, Apple and Cinnamon, or Green. Hmm.' Selecting a flavour that she knew Pietro would like came easy to her. She was without a doubt, an avid collector of certain things. It never hurt to be prepared after all, and she liked having a selection rather than a fixed choice. For herself, she dropped a spoon of black coffee into her mug, while the gentle hum of heating water offered a distant soundtrack to their discord. There was no denying that the witch was exhausted from the events of her day, but she was never too tired to listen to her brother. Still, a pure caffeine boost wouldn't go unwanted right now.

“So. I hear you too, sent in your anticipated, full resignation. I suppose they didn't hesitate to offer you an.... oh-so attractive trainee spot with the East Coast either?” Shaking her head, her lowered eyes were focused on her tasks as she added sugar to her mug, but her steady paced voice clearly carried over to Pietro without fail.

“Fools.” She bitterly added, finally lifting her eyes to fully lock onto Pietro's. “I wonder, brother, if they indeed realise the full extent of their actions? I wonder; should we even allow ourselves to be crossed anymore? By all means; throw insult to the wind if it pleases you. I am hardly going to defend our former... friends.”

The heating water started to bubble and boil, while a thickly dark and triangular brow arched over Wanda's intense stare. Although it was clear that she was mostly referring to the Avengers, there was also the hidden context of other beings who had betrayed the twins. Having resigned herself to a more distanced spectator in the relationship between her brother and his wife, she both hoped and suspected that their reconciliation had not ended well.

“Especially those unworthy of our attentions. How is Crystal, by the way?"

Perhaps overall, Wanda was mentally in a different place to her brother. She had after all, spent the majority of her evening ranting and raving at her poor dinner guest. An old friend and team member who perhaps had an ulterior motive, only to be dashed by her completely scarlet countenance. She remained oblivious to any of those motives, but at least she possessed a calmer and clearer mindset towards the situation as a result of the meeting. Being told that all her actions up to a point, were the design of a higher being, had been a difficult pill for her to swallow. Many a time, she still found it lodged in her throat. Now, she was only fully aware that her life was completely her own design. It was a liberating feeling that opened up a whole corridor of doors labelled with certain possibilities to explore.

[Pietro Maximoff]

There weren't many things in the entire universe that could calm Pietro more than the sound of his own sister's voice. Sitting there at her house while she prepared them tea reminded him of old times. Not always so good times, but old times, when they were always together. Inseparable until life came in the way. Life, hardship, marriage, failure.

His thoughts made him glare at a random point on the ground. It wasn't until her voice called him from his thoughts that he managed to push that anger to the side. Just barely.


“So. I hear you too, sent in your anticipated, full resignation. I suppose they didn't hesitate to offer you an.... oh-so attractive trainee spot with the East Coast either?” Shaking her head, her lowered eyes were focused on her tasks as she added sugar to her mug, but her steady paced voice clearly carried over to Pietro without fail.

That made him chuckle. It was one of those angry, bitter chuckles that Wanda knew so well. The one that conveyed all his emotions with just that amount of sound that left his lips. "Yes, they did." His answer was clipped. Short. Because if he spoke any less, the words would have come out so fast in his frustration that not even Wanda, who was fairly used to Pietro's sped-up speech when he couldn't control his emotions, would be able to understand.


“Fools.” She bitterly added, finally lifting her eyes to fully lock onto Pietro's. “I wonder, brother, if they indeed realise the full extent of their actions? I wonder; should we even allow ourselves to be crossed anymore? By all means; throw insult to the wind if it pleases you. I am hardly going to defend our former... friends.”


She seemed bitter as well. He didn't expect that. And all of a sudden, his problems were pushed aside in his constantly-moving mind. All that mattered now was the reason why. What had happened to her while he was too busy trying to dig out of that hole he called his own life? Trying to patch up a marriage that was doomed from the moment it started. How foolish had he been to think it could have ever worked?

But it all didn't matter now. Standing up, he walked towards her. Arms wrapped around her waist and chin rested on her shoulder.

"What made you so bitter towards them, sister? I have my reasons. But what are yours?"


“Especially those unworthy of our attentions. How is Crystal, by the way?"

That's when he stiffened. She would feel it, as his arms were still wrapped around her and the closeness between them would let her see all his muscles freezing. His jaws clenched as if trying hard to control an anger that was burning deep inside of him.

Crystal. He had given her everything. She had been his first. His only. He had given her a daughter. He had trusted her. Yet what had she given him in return? Betrayal. Several times, not just once or twice. When her uncle mind-controlled him, making him behave even more erratically than he usually did, she didn't show any signs of understanding. Was she even capable of understanding? Did that Inhuman woman even have a heart? Or was it fickle, shallow, worthless?

He took a few seconds to reply, which were, all things considered, too many. "Crystal isn't of my concern anymore. And I hope she will not come after me. The reception won't be as welcoming if she does." Pietro paused, another brief fraction of a second before his voice was heard again.

"She has our daughter. But not for too long if I can do anything about it."

There was that danger in his voice. A cold, veiled anger. Luna was human. Just a human. He'd have to find a way to change that. There had to be a way to change that, somehow. But Luna was also his daughter. And he did love her. The only good thing to come out of a nightmare.

But human. He thought if he were to believe in God now, he was certainly punishing him for his mistakes by giving him a human daughter. As much as he loved her.

[Wanda Maximoff]

As she poured steaming water into the two mugs, the unflinching Wanda soon felt strong arms around her waist. Her brother's closeness didn't hinder her tasks though, as she carried on preparing the tea regardless of his chin coming to rest on her shoulder. The light brush of his face against hers, caused her to lean her head to the other side slightly in further acknowledgement of his question. Although she was quite happy to talk in length about why she was so bitter, she didn't want to at the precise moment. Pietro was being too guarded with his short answers and diversions, and that caused her to worry enough to just bite the bullet by asking a more direct question of her own.

So, as she felt Pietro's body stiffening both around and behind her, Wanda knew that her suspicions about the inhuman woman were correct. Patiently waiting for her brother to find the right words in the seconds that passed, she started to stir his mug of tea with the slow motions of her delicate wrist. Gradually, the water faintly coloured along with words.

"Crystal isn't of my concern anymore. And I hope she will not come after me. The reception won't be as welcoming if she does." The silver spoon chinked against the porcelain of the mug, as Wanda expelled a quick breath through her nose. Indeed, she would personally guarantee that the reception wouldn't be welcoming at all; to anyone who crossed her brother.

"She has our daughter." The spoon hovered a moment, caught between the two mugs. “But not for too long if I can do anything about it."

“I see,” the Witch initially offered, her tone evenly balanced. It was a typical statement which meant that her mind was still processing the news. Little Luna was adorable, and above all else, she was half of Pietro. How could Wanda not love something that he had created? Crystal was barely a part of the 'our' in this equation.

“Then my patience with Crystal has thinned to little more than a thread. My dearest sister-in-law might be experiencing a serious bout of bad luck soon.” It didn't matter to her that Crystal was the mother of his child. In a seemingly rather cold attitude, Wanda believed that the inhman woman had long since fulfilled her uses. Sure, she'd tried to help the troubled couple see eye to eye, but when her allegiance was put to question, there was really no comparison. She would always take her brother's side, in the end.

“Especially, if she shows her face anywhere near you without Luna.” Lifting her hand to rest over Pietro's arm, her determined eyes stared dead ahead as she spoke her next words seriously. “I will not let her keep what is rightfully yours from you.”

That being said, Wanda slid the cup of herbal tea diagonally towards them, gesturing that it was ready for Pietro to pick up whenever he felt inclined too.

“Now. How does New York sound to you?” Feeling that the topic needed to change, Wanda grasped her mug with both hands. Savouring the comforting heat against her palms, she turned her head lightly to look to her brother. “I'm thinking of selling up again. L.A feels ever so... drab as of late, don't you think?”

[Pietro Maximoff]

Pietro watched Wanda as she seemed to ponder about his words carefully. It was perhaps one of the few situations where he actually showed some sort of patience towards he person he was conversing with. With Wanda, he didn't have the urge to push her on as he did with others. She seemed thoughtful, but her next words made him smile. It was a cold smile, one that had the hints of anger towards the subject of their conversation at the moment, one that hinted that Pietro had had enough.

And that also showed that he was very glad about his sister's response.


“Then my patience with Crystal has thinned to little more than a thread. My dearest sister-in-law might be experiencing a serious bout of bad luck soon.” It didn't matter to her that Crystal was the mother of his child. In a seemingly rather cold attitude, Wanda believed that the inhman woman had long since fulfilled her uses. Sure, she'd tried to help the troubled couple see eye to eye, but when her allegiance was put to question, there was really no comparison. She would always take her brother's side, in the end.

The kiss on her cheek was firm, strong, almost as if trying to convey all his satisfaction and pride for her in that gesture. Lips lingering on her skin, before his voice was heard again, satisfied almost. He knew there was no one else that would have understood. Even some of their former teammates didn't realize that most of Pietro's actions during the first years of marriage to Crystal weren't always his own, that he was being mind-controlled. He was the troublemaker, in the end. He was always constantly judged for his actions, for his temper, for his arrogance, and it took him years to gain some respect, the respect he knew he deserved.

But Wanda knew. Wanda believed and she was always there. And he had no doubts, not for one second, that she would do exactly what she promised. "Ex sister-in-law. I have officially filed for divorce. And very good. She doesn't deserve any respect. And she certainly doesn't deserve compassion."

Crystal had been his first and only. He had given himself to her, pure as he was when they first met. He had been faithful, despite it all. Yet... she spit all that back in his face as if it had been nothing at all. As if his faithfulness, the love he felt for her, the gift he had given her of being the first - and up until now, only - woman to ever have him in more intimate ways had been nothing.

No. She didn't deserve any compassion at all.

“Especially, if she shows her face anywhere near you without Luna.” Lifting her hand to rest over Pietro's arm, her determined eyes stared dead ahead as she spoke her next words seriously. “I will not let her keep what is rightfully yours from you.”

Pietro frowned, his breathing going more shallow as he tried to control his anger. His shoulders were now moving noticeably up and down, a clear sign of his emotional state. "She's my daughter. I won't let anyone else raise her but me. But we must proceed carefully. I don't want to cross Black Bolt." The Inhuman king was not one to be crossed in the end. "It could lead to a path of destruction that wouldn't be beneficial to any of us. But my daughter will come back to me. Even if that means I'll have to steal her."

And she could still be a mutant. The theories that she would be nothing but just a human could still be wrong. She was young, only a toddler. It wasn't until puberty that his own powers manifested. She still had time.


That being said, Wanda slid the cup of herbal tea diagonally towards them, gesturing that it was ready for Pietro to pick up whenever he felt inclined too.

“Now. How does New York sound to you?” Feeling that the topic needed to change, Wanda grasped her mug with both hands. Savouring the comforting heat against her palms, she turned her head lightly to look to her brother. “I'm thinking of selling up again. L.A feels ever so... drab as of late, don't you think?”

Strong arms finally unwrapped themselves from around her, and his hands reached for the cup. Taking a sip on his tea, he pondered about her question - for exactly one second. It was a very obvious, very simple answer, at least to him.

"Anywhere you go, I will go, Wanda. I'm not letting anything or anyone change that anymore." He took another sip. "That said, New York sounds like a good choice."

One bad experience was bad enough. This time he'd keep himself to the one that really mattered. The only one he knew he could trust. And she was right there. In front of him.

[Wanda Maximoff]

With that firm kiss still lingering on her cheek where it marked an invisible burn, the released Wanda took the opportunity to move towards the lounge area. Each step however, was laboured by her continued thoughts. Although she was confident that it was a good decision to change the subject before Pietro's anger boiled too far, she on the other hand, was still pondering over the situation as a whole. If in time, her brother wanted to take more extreme measures to get his daughter back, the Scarlet Witch feared that he alone, would ultimately fail against his adversaries. Together they were a strong force to be reckoned with, there was no denying that fact. But they also possessed an unavoidable weakness that could only be resolved by acquiring allies. Whereas the Avengers had mostly filled up those select positions for some time, it now felt like the slate had been completely wiped clean again. The only person Wanda felt she could completely trust now, was her dearest brother. A fact only further clarified by his answer, which still resonated with her as she crossed the floorboards.

"Anywhere you go, I will go, Wanda. I'm not letting anything or anyone change that anymore. ….. .That said, New York sounds like a good choice."

The Witch settled down into her favoured armchair; modern in design, the back reached the midpoint of her spine. The perfect chair for reading in, with a small table next to it, where she now placed her coffee mug. Sliding the real estate pages free from under the old mug, she tossed the shiny pages across to the sofa. Then, bending forwards, she started to remove her boots whilst still straining to talk.

“I've already circled a few accommodation prospects. Quite a few contacts we could draw on in the Big Apple, aren't there.” The left boot was tossed aside with the rhetorical question, and the right followed soon after. “We could always ring the doorbell of Professor Xavier. I'm sure he'd be positively delighted to gain us among his esteemed ranks...”

The dry sarcasm was clear in her voice with the aid of her haughty smirk. She'd openly debated the purpose of the X-Men before, and stated that the grass wasn't always greener, no matter how perfect it seemed.

Sitting back fully, Wanda gracefully slid one leg over the other knee in a fluid motion. Then, resting her elbows on the arm rests, she locked eyes with Pietro once more. She knew that he had a vague history with both the X-Factor and the X-Men, but that similarly, the X-teams as a whole had never really appealed to either of them as a long term solution. 'Equality' amongst humans and mutants was a very broad term to be fighting for, and Wanda had met her fair share of humans who were far too unappreciative of what the X-Men had accomplished time and time again. Namely, when it came to dealing with their oh-so beloved father. A dangerous and volatile subject which she ever so carefully tried to ease into the conversation.

“I recall you helping the 'X...Men,' on Avalon.” Her mouth gave a more distasteful twitch; how could a team be fighting for equality when their name was so incredibly sexist? The mention of Avalon however, didn't make her feel so bitter as other mutants might have felt. On the contrary, she believed that the idea of a Sanctuary for mutants had benefits, in theory.

“Which reminds me.... What did happen to all those unfortunate mutants who were so eager to follow the whims of Magneto? What was it he called them again? His.... faithful acolytes?”

[Pietro Maximoff]

Pietro didn't hesitate one moment to follow his sister down to her lounge. She had done a fabulous job with her penthouse, even thought it was very much decorated to her tastes alone. It made him smile a little when he thought of it. For a big part of their lives they didn't have much of a chance for luxury or nice furniture, or even a choice of what herbal tea they'd be taking that evening.

Things were different now, but part of Pietro remained oblivious to the need for some luxuries that Wanda obviously enjoyed. But the interesting thing of it all, he didn't mind it. They were twins, it didn't mean they had to be equal in everything. And with them, it couldn't be farther from the truth, as the two, for the bond they had and the life and love they shared with one another, couldn't be more different from one another.


But Pietro was slightly worried about some of his sister's tones. She had always been the more understanding one. The 'motherly' one. The calm, collected one. Yet her voice was dripping with sarcasm now. Had her life made her change that much? He was seeing more of himself in her, and he wasn't sure he liked it. But looking into her eyes, she was still his Wanda.


He sighed, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Her next words make him laugh a little.

“I've already circled a few accommodation prospects. Quite a few contacts we could draw on in the Big Apple, aren't there.” The left boot was tossed aside with the rhetorical question, and the right followed soon after. “We could always ring the doorbell of Professor Xavier. I'm sure he'd be positively delighted to gain us among his esteemed ranks...”

He remembered his last stunt with Xavier's people. Sent to Avalon, meeting with their father. Being almost killed by Magneto, only to be saved by Wolverine. Wolverine, of all people, had saved him. Sacrificed himself to their father's anger in order to save his life. He pinched his nosebridge for a moment as if trying to recollect his thoughts.

Did he want to be involved with the X-Men again? He wasn't sure. It had been a temporary alliance back then. But the sarcasm in his sister's words made him smile just a little.

"Xavier's not a bad man. His dreams are unrealistic though." He finally replied in what, to him, seemed like an eternity of pondering thoughts, but that for Wanda consisted of perhaps a ten second pause. "How can we fight for dreams we don't fully believe in?"

He sighed a little, suddenly speaking more than he had since he arrived. "Once upon a time I used to think it was possible. With all I had done in my life, with everything I had lived, I thought it was the only way not to become him."

Only Wanda could possibly know exactly who he was talking about. "But what now, Wanda? When all we tried did not work?"

He was very much at a loss on what to do next. He didn't think in his current anger, he'd be a good choice to defend Charles' ideals again. That was a given. But his next steps were unknown to him. And for a man whose every second passed faster than anyone else's, it was a very unsettling feeling not to know what to do next.


“I recall you helping the 'X...Men,' on Avalon.” Her mouth gave a more distasteful twitch; how could a team be fighting for equality when their name was so incredibly sexist? The mention of Avalon however, didn't make her feel so bitter as other mutants might have felt. On the contrary, she believed that the idea of a Sanctuary for mutants had benefits, in theory.


His eyes turned to face Wanda as he placed his cup on the side table. "You've heard of it? Well, Wanda, have you heard about how our own father was ready to kill me? He was going to. I was down, putty in his hands. And he would still kill me. Wolverine, of all people, had to step in to save me. It almost cost him his life. Wolverine..." He chuckled bitterly. "...of all people."

"Granted, the intention was to kill him. But would you have attempted to kill your own son just to save your life?" He frowned a little. Would he have killed his own daughter if she had been trying to kill him? The answer, at least to him, was quick and to the point. He wouldn't.

Maybe that was the little bit that set him apart from his father. As similar as he had been to Magneto in his past, he'd die for his daughter. He'd die for Wanda. He wouldn't bring them harm for any reason in the world.


“Which reminds me.... What did happen to all those unfortunate mutants who were so eager to follow the whims of Magneto? What was it he called them again? His.... faithful acolytes?”

Pietro's lips twitched just a little in an angry gesture. The Acolytes. Val Cooper. He chuckled, briefly and dryly. He had almost become his father back then. Almost.

"I have not heard of them in a while now. Not since their last attempt of turning me into father, and after some of them tried to use my daughter as leverage."

He still remembered that encounter. It had almost cost him his life, yet again. "But I suppose those are old times. If there are any of his Acolytes left, they're certainly not after me yet."

Turning his blue eyes at her curiously, he picked his tea cup back again. "Why do you ask?"

[Wanda Maximoff]

After Pietro relayed the real events of Avalon to Wanda, she expelled an anxious sigh in response to their father's actions. It was highly disappointing, beyond anything else. Her own experience with Magneto had generally been quite pleasant. After all, the master of magnetism had saved her live on two notable accounts at the very least.

“I'm sorry to hear that brother,” she interjected before falling thoughtfully silent again. She had never been blessed with children (as far as she was aware), but that didn't render her incapable of answering the question posed to her. “I imagine the life of my child would ultimately be far more important than my own.” A brief pause, in which she connected the idea of Magneto having many other adopted children in the form of his most devoted followers. His so-called 'Brotherhood' of mutants, another title that didn't resonate so well with her. Where were the sisters in this union? Why did everything need to be so black and white for him? Where did the different shades of grey fit into the equation? To her, it seemed like a problematic family from the outset based on this alone. “Which reminds me....”

Having posed her questions, Wanda watched her brother's reactions rather stoically. Was his dry chuckle a result of more patronising opinions of the Acolytes, or merely the residues of his resentment towards their father and his followers as a whole? She lifted her coffee mug to her lips, and took a series of careful sips of the hot liquid having placed equal bets on both explanations.

"Why do you ask?" The more direct question caused Wanda to lower the mug to her lap, and in her pause that savoured the lingering taste of only slightly sweetened coffee on her tongue, she also prepared her next words carefully. For a moment, her eyes lowered to watch the swirling, black liquid.

“You asked what we should do now. The truth is, I am caught in a web of various thoughts and feelings. Various paths that may not seem appealing at first. Xavier's dreams are indeed, an unrealistic possibility.” She lightly smiled as her eyes lifted back to him. “I would never argue against that. Equally, I no longer believe in the Avengers either. In truth, I don't think I ever completely did. There is, there are very little things I have been able to dedicate myself to completely. In a sense, I fear that I may envy Magneto for his overall devotion. Flawed as is it... Bear with me a little, if you would.”

Wanda knew full well that her brother's patience was limited. But he'd asked a question that she didn't have a short answer for. This was what ultimately happened when they were parted for too long. Each of them would have so much to share with each other. The Witch had definitely undergone a period of self-examination and even now, she was speaking her thoughts with ease.

“As you well know, and as loathed as I am to admit it; a large portion of my life was all just a construct of Immortus' divine plan...” Trailing off slightly, she inhaled deeply before she'd even gotten started. Pietro had been missing at other vulnerable points in her life so far, and it was his absence that added to the long list of reasons which ultimately accumulated in her 'long sleep'. Her calm expression though, proved that she held no resentment towards him. He had after all, been there for her in her most desperate hour of need.

“It is a difficult theory that I've had to very slowly come to terms with. Perhaps I have merely over-thought certain aspects whereas other choices have been easier to just blame on this... design. But at last, I feel as though I am starting to adjust to the simple fact that my life is now wholly what I make it. It may also please you to know that my affections for the Vision were indeed -” Again, another pause. Another deeply inhaled breath, as she looked away in search of the correct word. Ah, there it was. “Complicated.”

Another very brief pause, as Wanda took hold of her mug again in both palms. Lifting it from her lap, she kept it posed at chest-level. There were no longer any photographs dotted around the apartment of either the Vision, or the two of them caught in married bliss. In an effort to move on from her doomed marriage, she had cast aside all evidence save for her wedding band. Although she no longer wore it, she still kept it safe in her jewellery box.

“But... when a sovereign dies, do not his children take the crown? Should they not acquire their own devoted followers, along with the strength to resist any attempts to influence their shaping of their, let's say; their inheritance?”

It was a rather ambitious topic to broach, especially for Wanda. Having poised the question though, she drank a longer sip of coffee. Focused eyes staring across at Pietro over the rim of the mug.

[Pietro Maximoff]

Wanda's words about their father's actions only mirrored what he knew she would say. It wasn't much of a need for confirmation, because it would have been a completely different Wanda than the sister he knew and loved more than anything else in the world if she had answered differently. It had been, on his part, more of a need to actually hear her voice saying that in order to soothe his soul.


“It is a difficult theory that I've had to very slowly come to terms with. Perhaps I have merely over-thought certain aspects whereas other choices have been easier to just blame on this... design. But at last, I feel as though I am starting to adjust to the simple fact that my life is now wholly what I make it. It may also please you to know that my affections for the Vision were indeed -” Again, another pause. Another deeply inhaled breath, as she looked away in search of the correct word. Ah, there it was. “Complicated.”

He would have been lying if he claimed he hadn't felt a little guilty hearing his former brother-in-law's name together with the rest of her words. He stood up, putting the now empty tea cup on the table and sitting next to his sister, a hand moving to touch her forearm in a gentle gesture. "Since we have touched this subject, Wanda. We never had a chance to speak about it, not when I was not being mentally manipulated in one way or another. All I've said, all I've argued with you about, all my opinions, I only had your happiness in mind. I might have not voiced it appropriately, but then again, when have I ever been that good with words?" He smiled just a little. "I always thought that marriage was doomed before it started, that it could not work, and that it would only send you into a path of destruction and pain. You... are the most important thing I have in my life. I just wanted your happiness."

Then, squeezing her arm gently, he finished his thoughts. "I am happy that you've come to your senses, somehow. But displeased that it had to happen through pain. I would have taken that pain away from you, if only I could have."

It was a big speech. Perhaps bigger than what Pietro ever really bothered giving anyone else but Wanda. But she deserved it. More than anything else, she deserved the world, if he could give it to her.

However, Wanda seemed to catch onto a long train of thought that would have sent Pietro completely out of his mind if only it hadn't come from her. Instead, since it was her voice, her words, he paid attention to all of them, but his quick-thinking brain had already caught on the meaning of her words before she actually concluded her train of thought. And while he thought, once she started explaining her ideas, that it was crazy and foolish...

By the time she ended her small speech, she'd find her brother's eyes thoughtful. Elbows now resting again on his strong thighs as he seemed to take that small amount of time to think over her words. She had a point. Magneto would not last forever. What if when he left this world, his people were left without guidance? They had a strong point on Magneto, their only reference... Without someone to guide them, they'd be left astray.

That could mean more harm than good in the end.

But that would mean facing their father. It would mean facing the fact their last encounter, they had attempted to kill one another. It was a rather big obstacle to breach.

It took him longer, almost a minute, before an answer came from his lips. "Your idea has a lot of merit. Without guidance, they'd be more dangerous than helpful." Blue eyes turned to look at his sister. "However, the last time father and I met, we weren't exactly the best of friends. Do you think you alone can deal with the consequences of such encounter?"

[Wanda Maximoff]

“Do you think you alone can deal with the consequences of such encounter?"

Wanda more confidently smiled, as she looked up at her brother. “With a little luck, perhaps.”

Making a jest of her own powers was all well and good, but she would also not hesitate to actually use them in a stronger and more literal capacity against Magneto. If she needed to. So far, she had only once, properly attacked him, through pure misunderstanding. Discussing those matters could wait a while though. First, she could no longer ignore addressing Pietro's gentler words, having side-tracked briefly while her mind processed it all. Now, the Witch was able to bring it all together. Turning slightly in her seat to face his direction at her side, she reached across to grasp his hand, and lightly squeezed. Not just mirroring the way he had squeezed her arm, but also a reinforcement of the fact that she was real, and she would be there for him; irrevocably and unconditionally.

“As for what has transpired, consider it to be nothing more than unfortunate but necessary growing pains, as we each have been forced to endure. Ultimately, I have very few regrets. Had I listened to your warnings, I would not be the woman I am now. Nor you, the man I am so, so proud of. All things heal though, given time. I am always here though, to offer an extra bandaid.”

She gave his hand another squeeze along with the gift of a rare smile that reached all the way up to her eyes. No longer was she simply referring to her own process of recovery. Likewise, she also didn't need to name the being who had more recently caused Pietro to suffer emotionally. Deep down, the devoted sister wondered if his choices had been entirely his own either. At a point it had seemed as though his spontaneous decision to marry Crystal had been nothing more than a vengeful reaction to her relationship with the Vision. A selfish conclusion perhaps; the inhuman woman had only saved his life after all. The notion of marriage had always been, in Wanda's opinion, a little too sudden.

All that was behind them though. Shifting to lean her side against both the chair, and part of Pietro's side, the Witch re-crossed her legs with the mutual exchange of left to right, and tilted her head back to lean against him. She was thinking again, primarily back to the subject of their father. As it stood, Magneto was considered dead to the ignorant, and simply 'MIA' to those who knew him better. Either way, even if they relocated to New York, the puzzle pieces weren't going to align very easily.

“You are right about one other thing brother. Our complex history with our so-called father would make matters very difficult. As would even tracking him or even his former believers down. But consider this; would it be any different to convincing Xavier and his X-Men, that we wish to be devoted to their impossible cause?”

[Pietro Maximoff]

Wanda more confidently smiled, as she looked up at her brother. “With a little luck, perhaps.”

That answer earned her one of Pietro's amused chuckles, and another kiss to her cheek. "I like when you smile. You have a beautiful smile." He said with a voice that sounded a lot less heavy all of a sudden.



“As for what has transpired, consider it to be nothing more than unfortunate but necessary growing pains, as we each have been forced to endure. Ultimately, I have very few regrets. Had I listened to your warnings, I would not be the woman I am now. Nor you, the man I am so, so proud of. All things heal though, given time. I am always here though, to offer an extra bandaid.”


The forgiveness in Wanda's voice was almost like balm. He needed it, he needed to hear those words, even though he was sure, deep inside, she had forgiven him. It was impossible for them to be angry at one another for too long, no matter what, the bond that existed between them was unbreakable.


"And you are the best bandaid I could have ever asked for." When he released his breath, his shoulders relaxed, almost as if a big weight had been taken off them.


With that little bit of guilt out of his mind, there were pressing matters at hand. Matters that she had very intelligently put. Yet the obstacles were big. But her following words rang true, as well. No matter what their choices were, the obstacles would have been big. It wouldn't have been the first time they had to jump through walls in order to just survive. Their entire life had been made of obstacles. From when they were born until that very last moment where their personal decisions had brought them together again.


“You are right about one other thing brother. Our complex history with our so-called father would make matters very difficult. As would even tracking him or even his former believers down. But consider this; would it be any different to convincing Xavier and his X-Men, that we wish to be devoted to their impossible cause?”

Pietro took another deep breath, nodding at her words. His fast-thinking mind had already agreed with her before she voiced those things out loud. "Indeed what I was thinking. And Wanda," he turned his intense eyes at his sister once more. "It would not have been the first time we had to climb mountains. We've been doing it our entire lives."

Shaking his head, he leaned forward just slightly, the longer part of his hair falling over his eyes. "Perhaps convincing Xavier and his X-Men, given our current state of mind, would be even a harder obstacle than convincing our father's people."

A hand brushed over his own silver-colored hair, putting it back into place, before he wrapped his arm around his sister's shoulder. "So when do you expect us to start our new endeavour?"

[Wanda Maximoff]

Though the rather unexpected compliment had bashfully disbanded her smile for a moment, it was back again in full force by the time that Pietro made reference to their far more modest, gypsy childhood upbringing. Wanda slowly nodded feeling her brother's eyes on her. She was glad that he was ultimately seeing things the way that she did. The worst case scenario could have been that he rejected the idea based on the fact that it put them too close to their estranged father. Even if that had been the initial response, she was sure that she could have convinced him to think a little more outside the box. Eventually.

"So when do you expect us to start our new endeavour?" She welcomed the arm behind her, by almost automatically leaning into the embrace. There was never much thought behind her natural movements; Pietro moved, and she in turn responded in tuned rhythm.

“Soon,” was the simplest answer. “I was going to start the rather laborious task of packing tomorrow, at the earliest. I have no desire to stay here any longer than necessary. I'm more than grateful, but I'm also certain that someone else can come to appreciate this place much more than I can.” Of course, she was referring to her cosmetic home as much as she was to the entirety of California itself. Maybe it was that innate Gypsy upbringing that caused Wanda to always have itchy feet. Pietro too, she mentally noted. They both had a tendency to travel or spontaneous 'uproot' themselves, in many senses of the word.

“And you, brother?” Now, the Witch tilted her head back so she could cast her questioning gaze up at Pietro. It didn't bother her that she was seated low enough to almost be resting her head on his lap. A noisy onlooker however, would no doubt be horrified. “Will you sell up too? There are some reasonable apartments available in New York. We could share a place, just like the old days. In the meantime, I have plenty of blankets and spare pillows if you wish to stay here.” A thoughtful pause and then, "where have you been staying?"