[exploring the town surrounding the castle felt right, after a day getting familiarized with the north wing and realizing just how much more there was to see. wanda has kept mostly to herself, cautious of others and her distancing to them, overlooking at the mages around the castle and their magic with an ounce of envy—waiting for her own magic to course stronger through her.
in the meantime, it's the vendor trying to sell her some whistling water jars which makes her wish she had considered a different route through. she tries placating the vendor who confused her curiosity for a genuine business venture. instead, their eyes dart to the sign embroidered on her tunic: the hanged man.]
Why not try to fit in with the rest for once?
[wanda tilts her head, eyes narrowing, jaw tight.]
What is that supposed to mean?
B. CADENS
[wanda moves slowly, a little cautiously, past the others in the mess hall; she wraps a roll of bread inside a piece of cloth as she heads out, tying it onto a sash around her waist. after a few days of being here, she grows anxious and impatient, deciding that the best action is to—obviously—try her luck and make her way out, towards the city of cadens.
she walks towards the wagons, looking around for someone to give her a ride. should she even ask for permission?
abruptly, she staggers back as she bumps into someone, her eyes everywhere but in front of her. dust picks up under her shoes, and she shakes her head in an attempt to sound apologetic.]
—sorry. [and, then, seems to reconsider, lifting her gaze to the other.] Do you know who is in charge of the wagons?
C. SOLVUNN
[stepping out of the apartment, wanda finds herself wary of the kindness bestowed upon her. it is unusual, and having had arrived from a conjured reality of her own making—of solitude, of studying, of meditation—it is a bit jarring. she finds solace in it, though; soon as the rays of the sun mark the start of the day, the gentle bustle and going-ons of individuals manage to peel away that wariness and exchange it for subdued excitement.
it is a simple way of living, she notes, and she wants to say that, regardless of the circumstances by which she may have been brought here (all that can be dealt with later), she can find fortitude in the company of others.
wanda is eager to help in exchange of the hospitality she has been shown; she can be found sitting on a bench, a toddler playing with toys at her feet, a baby in her arms. the world revolves around her, a smile on her face, as she sings a soft lullaby for the baby to hear.]
[ooc: still debating on where wanda should go, so here are three options! also, she is post-wandavision. minor spoilers for it?]
wanda maximoff · mcu · hanged man
I don't have any money.
[exploring the town surrounding the castle felt right, after a day getting familiarized with the north wing and realizing just how much more there was to see. wanda has kept mostly to herself, cautious of others and her distancing to them, overlooking at the mages around the castle and their magic with an ounce of envy—waiting for her own magic to course stronger through her.
in the meantime, it's the vendor trying to sell her some whistling water jars which makes her wish she had considered a different route through. she tries placating the vendor who confused her curiosity for a genuine business venture. instead, their eyes dart to the sign embroidered on her tunic: the hanged man.]
Why not try to fit in with the rest for once?
[wanda tilts her head, eyes narrowing, jaw tight.]
What is that supposed to mean?
B. CADENS
[wanda moves slowly, a little cautiously, past the others in the mess hall; she wraps a roll of bread inside a piece of cloth as she heads out, tying it onto a sash around her waist. after a few days of being here, she grows anxious and impatient, deciding that the best action is to—obviously—try her luck and make her way out, towards the city of cadens.
she walks towards the wagons, looking around for someone to give her a ride. should she even ask for permission?
abruptly, she staggers back as she bumps into someone, her eyes everywhere but in front of her. dust picks up under her shoes, and she shakes her head in an attempt to sound apologetic.]
—sorry. [and, then, seems to reconsider, lifting her gaze to the other.] Do you know who is in charge of the wagons?
C. SOLVUNN
[stepping out of the apartment, wanda finds herself wary of the kindness bestowed upon her. it is unusual, and having had arrived from a conjured reality of her own making—of solitude, of studying, of meditation—it is a bit jarring. she finds solace in it, though; soon as the rays of the sun mark the start of the day, the gentle bustle and going-ons of individuals manage to peel away that wariness and exchange it for subdued excitement.
it is a simple way of living, she notes, and she wants to say that, regardless of the circumstances by which she may have been brought here (all that can be dealt with later), she can find fortitude in the company of others.
wanda is eager to help in exchange of the hospitality she has been shown; she can be found sitting on a bench, a toddler playing with toys at her feet, a baby in her arms. the world revolves around her, a smile on her face, as she sings a soft lullaby for the baby to hear.]
[ooc: still debating on where wanda should go, so here are three options! also, she is post-wandavision. minor spoilers for it?]