I moan loudly, the volume rude, as I bite into the greasy, thick chippy chips, the salt and vinegar hitting my tongue. My eyes closed, I savour the taste of home as best I can, prolonging the moment. The energy of Wanda before me ripples with awkwardness as my pure, vocal enjoyment echoes throughout the shop, paying no mind to the stares from the other customers. Resting back into my plastic chair, I open my eyes and breath out, satisfaction filling every cell in my body, before taking notice of my companions.
With a laugh, I apologise, "Sorry-sorry, but I've missed the food of my home so much; nothing makes you feel like you're about to die as much good quality chips," I pat my stomach with a bare hand, the cracks on full display, "I don't know what they do to their chips across the pond, but they're rancid compared to here." Letting out a groan, my inner old man showing, I lean back over my chair and stretch, waving to the chippy owner with gratitude, getting a solemn nod back.
The confused, but intrigued voice of Vision causes me to sit up, "...As you say," he starts, placating me, "Would you be so kind as to tell us why you requested we join you here?" Right. So, thanks to the intervention of the ever-gracious Vision, Wanda didn't immediately rip me apart, letting me live for now. After calming her down, I invited them to eat; wishing to taste the shit food of my homeland again, and to provide a neutral ground for us to talk, for me to explain.
Bunching up my sleeves, exposing my arms, I lay them on the table, palms up in a gesture of goodwill. Wanda's energy flickers with surprise as she notices them, while I hazard a guess that Vision is examining them with curiosity, probably getting readings on them with his robo-brain. To get their appearance out of the way and out of their mind, I detail, "Disregard the current state of my arms, it's a consequence of a misadventure, as are," I point to my unseeing eyes, "These.
"You've probably noticed by now, I mean, how couldn't you? But I'm blind. It's hopefully temporary," I laugh, "and I have an idea about how to fix them, so don'mine." They don't laugh with me, Vision silent, while Wanda's energy ripples with concern, likely worried about my state of mind; as if she has any ground to stand on in that regard.
With dying chuckles, I continue, ignoring the atmosphere, "...Moving on. I recently arrived in Scotland quite unexpectedly, brought here by an outside power that I have no influence over," I grab another chip and throw it in my mouth, not forgetting to offer one to Wanda, who declines, "As you can imagine, navigating a new environment without sight is a challenge, but what can you do?" I shrug, "Some guy even tried to mug me, can you believe that? The nerve of some people, honestly."
Finishing my food, I grab a tenner from my jeans and place it on the table, when Vision tries to stop me, "Oh, you don't have to pay, I can-" I interrupt, waving him off,
"No, it's on me. I may have ordered for all of us, but I was the only one that touched them, so," I stick my tongue out at him, "Bleh." A chuckle leaves Wanda at our interaction, a shifting of Vision's seat the only indication of his own amusement, probably. Leaning forward in my seat, putting my serious face onm I say "On a more serious note, I've been thinking about it while sat here, and I've come to an interesting conclusion. I'm pretty sure I was placed here for a reason, whatever power responsible believing I'd be able to change your future."
Wanda speaks for the first time, suspicion in her voice, her faint, Eastern European accent deepening, "What do you mean 'our future'?" Her energy spikes and touches under her skin as she now regards me with faint animosity.
Vision joins in her concern, his tone sharing her suspicion, "Yes, quite. In fact, you seem to have forgotten to introduce yourself."
Letting out a sigh, I reply, "Right; my apologies," Holding out hand to them, I say, "My name is Sarah, a Tao seeker-slash-sorceress; but you can call me Kintsugi if you want, it's what I've started to call myself, anyway." Seems appropriate given my current appearance, no?
Wanda expresses doubt as she repeats my words, her tone full of scepticism, "'Sorceress'? Like Harry Potter?" she scoffs, the blurry outline of her hand laying on the absence of Vision, before continuing, "You expect us to believe that you're what? Some kind of wizard?" she turns her head to her partner, "Come on, Viz. She's clearly insane."
Wanda goes to stand, Vision joining her with an apology issued to me, when I speak up, "I can prove it to you if need be, Miss Maximoff. But once I do, you're really going to want to hear what I have to say." Wanda continues to walk off, intending to ignore me, when the light of the Mind Stone stops in place, telling of Vision's own thoughts. I hear his voice as he speaks up, providing us with his answer,
"Wanda, wait, please," she slows and turns to him, willing to hear his opinion, her energy revealing her hesitation, "I believe that we should at least be open to entertaining the possibility that Miss Kintsugi is telling the truth; as much as she believes it, in any case," he pauses, "If, indeed, what she is implying is fact, then the implications are… Staggering."
I see Wanda's hand rise, strips of void wrapping round it; the fingers of Vision, "Should her concern about us have some basis in reality, than I'd rather learn of it now, instead of allowing whatever future she seems to fear come to pass." The absence partly covers her face as she leans into it, closing her eyes, nodding.
As her eyes open, I perceive as they settle on me, her energy calming, "I shall see your proof for myself, for now." She says, her voice still carrying a hint of doubt. Standing from my seat, I clap my hands together, a smile on my face,
"Great!" Stepping from the table, I pick up the disguised Purpose from where it's leaning and salute the shop owner, then turn back to the two, "I'll need a private space to prove my magic to you, unless you want to gather the attention of all these strangers?" I pause, considering how to word my next request, "If you don't mind, you could take me to wherever you're staying? You don't have to worry about me showing anyone where it is, if that's a worry; 'cause, you know, again," I wiggle my fingers at my face, "Blind."
A sigh leaves Wanda as she listens to me, then shares a look with the invisible Vision. Whatever is communicated between them goes over my head, but she turns back to me and nods, before remembering my condition, "Ah, we'll be moving on soon enough, so yes, you can come to our home." Though she says that, she doesn't sound all too happy about it.
Releasing out breath of relief, I thank them, "Good. I was starting to worry I'd have to perform in a car park, like some kind of failing stage magician." Tapping Purpose on the floor, I wave it at them, "Well? Lead on." Another sigh leaves Wanda as the glass door behind them opens with the ring of a bell, Vision holding it open, the gentleman that he is. She turns away from me, so I follow after, patting Vision on the arm in thanks as I pass.
He trails behind as we move, his caution well earned, if unneeded. I'm not planning on doing anything to them, if I even could; I truly do intend on offering my help, though it's up to them to accept it. I didn't lie about my thoughts on why I landed where I did; it's too much of a coincidence that I washed up on the shores of Scotland and just happened to run into Vision. Not when it's the second time this has happened to me so far, first with Stephen and the Sanctum.
As we pass by what I think to be a shop, I call out to Wanda, making her stop and turn to me, finding me pointing to my left, "What's this place sell? They do any postcards? Or lockets?"
She moves towards me and checks, looking through their windows and searching, then asks, a note of curiosity in her voice, "Why?"
"They can act as a sympathetic connection, aiding in the casting of my ritual." I explain, being truthful. The illusion I plan on creating would be greatly aided by a conceptual-aligned medium; something that's inherent purpose leans towards memory.
I sense as she nods and looks around me to Vision, expressing something to him. She enters the shop, the creaking of hinges and the voice of the employee greeting her, as Vision approaches me from behind. Standing a bit taller than me, he says, his voice intrigued, "If you do successfully display your magic, then there is much I must reconsider on the nature of reality and the depths of humanity."
Keeping my focus on the interior of the shop, watching as Wanda approaches the counter, I reply, "Well, you're only young. No matter how connected you are to that Stone in your head, or how much you've learnt through the internet, there is still much for you to discover." The air near me shifts as his attention falls on me, my potential knowledge of the Stone almost causing him to ask, but he holds his tongue, the figure of Wanda nearing the door.
She pulls it open, the bell above ringing as she steps out, a blurred object in hand. Holding it out to me, she offers, "They had no, er, postcards, but they sold simple jewellery. Here," her hand reaches out and grabs mine, lifting it and placing the object in it, its chain draping over my palm, "a locket."
Rolling it over in my hand, I feel for its mechanism, finding a small nib on the side. Pushing it inwards, the locket springs open, the front flipping out and displaying its inside. I put over it my head and around my neck, a smile on my face as I thank her, "This will do, thanks." I slip a hand into my pocket and feel for a specific one, then pass it to her, asking, "How much? Will a twenty do?"
Wanda grabs it and slides it from between my fingers, inserting it into the pocket of her jacket, answering, "It was priced at seventeen fifty."
The disappointed voice of Vision sounds from the side, his tone reproachful as I laugh, "Wanda."
I interrupt, not wanting to be the cause of a disagreement, "It's fine, really; it's not my money," poking the Witch in the shoulder, I point my cane forward, requesting, "Shall we move on?" She stares at me in silence for a second, then goes to nod, before catching herself and verbalising,
"...Fine."
We're gonna be great friends, I can feel it in my bones.
...
"Where does all that food go?" Vision wonders as I fork at my doner kebab, having been forced to buy one when we passed a takeaway, the shop on the curve of a cobbled road.
Sitting in a comfy armchair in the living room of their flat, the two on the sofa opposite, I chew my food and swallow, the chili sauce kicking, then answer, spreading an arm out, "Magic."
He hums in thought, as Wanda makes herself known, "If we can move one?" She requests, a hurried note to her voice.
Scarfing down the last of my food, I put the polystyrene container down on the side table next to me and suck my fingers clean, then, "Right." Stnading, hands pushing off the arms, I continue, "On account of the fact that if I manipulate my magic right now I'll start to cook from the inside, I'm gonna need for you, Miss Wanda, to assist me."
A noise of alarm leaves Vision at my words, the rubbing of cloth on cloth reaching me as he sits forward, "Cook? Madam, are you sure you know what you're doing?"
As I go to wave his concerns away and reassure him, Wanda asks, interest lining her words, "You need my help? I don't see what I can do; I know nothing of your so-called magic." Looking to her position, I attempt to peer into her Chi, but her constantly shifting energy blocks my detection. Moving on, I explain as best I can, trying not to pile too many things on them at once,
"There are two things that only you can to do, neither Vision or I having the ability; he," I point to him, "on account of his physiology, and I, because, as I said, I'll burn." Stepping to her, avoiding hitting my shins on the coffee table, I kneel and start to instruct her, preparing myself, "I need you to look into my mind and memorise the symbols I'll show to you. But, try not to look any deeper or further, please, or my defences will retaliate; I'll limit them so that there won't be any lasting damage, but it will really hurt."
A ripple of nervousness runs through her while the light of the Mind Stone brightens, focusing on me, when she takes a breath and begins. I watch with interest as her power flows through and along her arms, reaching her hands and projecting out in a mist of dark red energy, before bringing them to either side of my head and questioning, "Ready?"
Giving her a smile, I close my eyes and reply, "Go for it."
With a wiggle of her fingers, I feel as her energy enters me, a chaotic swirl of potential winding through my spirit. Guiding her as best I can, I convey the runes of the ritual to her, feeding it along the connection, the act not without difficulty, her magic that much greater than mine. Done, and wanting to push the process along, I enforce my mental shields, telling her to retreat. Instead, I feel with slight annoyance as she starts to search deeper, her magic coursing through my spirit with care.
I attempt to block her path and steer her energy away, to no avail, the red magic swimming through my shields with ease, treating them as though they're air. Opening my eyes, I look to her, her eyes glowing and unfocused to my senses, before glancing over at the impression of Vision, seeing him making no moves. Purpose checks if it should intervene, but I calm it down, informing it that I'm kinda curious to see where this goes, wondering what she'll see and where her limit lies.
As her energy touches upon a memory, I fall into meditation and attempt to distance myself from any remembered emotions, taking an outside perspective. Joining her, I stand behind a mental projection of Wanda as the memory begins to play, guarding my heart as emotions of comfort and serenity begin to emanate, a third-person reconstruction of a moonlit night appearing before us.
I see past, innocent Sarah, her skin unmarred, her brown eyes clear, sitting under the eave of our masters home, dark-blue robes donning her person. A handleless cup of steaming tea held in hand, she leans on a wooden pillar, watching, a peaceful air around her, the in-motion form of our mother; her white robes swaying in the breeze as she demonstrates her martial arts. An ache of loss appears in my heart as I behold the scene, a wanting nearly bringing me to tears.
Relying on my meditation to stay steady, I glance at Wanda, a sad look upon her face at she watches, my current emotions effecting her own. Reaching out, I grab her by the arm and pull, the memory blurring and fading as she looks to me, a hint of empathy and understanding in her eyes. I try and guide her out, but the energy journeys deeper, catching on a memory of rage and violence, desperation and cunning radiating from it. With a deep frown and a hint of dread, we fall into it, my jaw clenched.
A rocky pillar forms and rises up to meet us, a sea of crimson blood under it, an orange sky and black sun overhead. We land softly, the action at odds with the slaughter opposite, a swarm of Esurire hurtling down to the green-robed figure of another Sarah, her clothing torn and shredded, skin soaked in blood and covered in wounds. She swings Jian with purpose, cutting and slicing into the mobbing demons, her eyes wide and focused as she stands guard over a glowing rune.
She spins and cleaves into a demon, its bisected corpse joining the mountain of its peers, a scream of wordless rage leaving her, making the horde flinch back. Her breath comes out in heaves as she eyes her attackers, a murderous gleam in them as she takes a step forward, when her foot catches on a black, severed leg, making her stagger. The demons dive her, sensing weakness, as she goes to recover, her hair whipping round, a Mandala forming over hand when she notices.
The wave of bodies crash into her, forcing her to the ground, her shield held before her in defence as they claw and tear, ripping into each other to get at her. The undulating mass covers the entirety of the pillar surface, pushing the mutilated corpses of their brethren over the side, the blood sea below churning and spraying. Hoarse shouting sounds from inside the mass, the flailing demons of its make up screeching, when a bloody hand reaches out, its fingers reaching into and gripping a fanged mouth, then yanking.
The demon is drawn into the mass, its gurgled howls heard over the screeching horde, before the blade of a sword pierces out and carves through, the Esurire in its way offering no resistance, their bodies sundering. A blast of force throws the broken corpses away, spraying viscera and flesh through the air, splattering on the neighbouring pillars. The drenched form of Sarah reveals itself from the opening, starting to stand with sword in hand, the other to her neck, her life leaking from between her fingers, a hole in her exposed, toned stomach,
But a wide, blood-stained smile on her face.
My heart beats with vigour as my nerves itch with need, when a hitched breath from the Witch beside me breaks the spell. Turning to her, I find her eyes wide, a complex expression on her face, but her gaze frozen on the massacre before her. Reaching out, I cover her eyes with one hand, then place the other on her chest, and shove, the memory distorting and fracturing as we begin to fall, again.
As we skirt over a third memory, a tangling of limbs and breathy moans, I clutch Wanda's energy in a mental hold, and release, ejecting it from me with as much force as is reasonable safe. My mind begins to settle when I feel her magic leave me, her hands springing away from me as I stand, stepping back and away from her. Bending over, I rub at my face with a groan, my cracked hands brushing over my skin, then take a deep breath and stand.
Releasing it slowly, I face Wanda, her blurry outline shivering and her energy fluctuating, "Happy now, Witch?" I ask of her, my tone sharp. There were some things there that I've been trying to avoid facing, so the fact that she brought it all up just because she didn't trust me? No wonder Bruce doesn't like her. Cycling my Chi, I do my best to calm down, sensing as the void of Vision leans over to his partner, placing a hand on her and speaking, his voice worried,
"Are you alright, Wanda?" She turns to him, her energy starting to calm and her shakes settling as she lays eyes on him, raising a hand and cupping to his cheek. I see her place her forehead against his and send a wisp of her power flowing into him, the light of the Mind Stone flickering as he receives it.
Guessing that she's showing him what she saw, I sigh and kneel down, starting to clear the table and preparing it for the ritual ahead, moving the cups and coasters, the candles and ornaments onto the floor. Sitting down crosslegged, my hands palm up on my knees, I close my eyes and ready myself, organising my memories and choosing what I want to reveal.
If I show anything related to the Hex or their potential children, I worry about the backlash, the images having the potential to damage their relationship. Unsettled by that thought, their cooperation needed for the coming war, I start to waver on whether I should steer clear of anything Thanos related. Eventually, after much consideration, I settle on showing them select pieces only; thinking it best to prepare them against their hunters.
Finally, as the two break apart and turn to me, I decide on the final scenes to show them, needing to hammer in the fatal outcome of their future; Wanda killing the Illuminati... and Vision's corpse in S.W.O.R.D HQ. Done, I open my eyes slowly, my breathing even and my course set, then look to the two, asking them, my tone serious, "Do you believe me now?"
A hesitant, "...Yes", from Wanda, and silence from Vision, answers me, the response good enough for me. With a nod, I lift the locket from my neck and over my head, laying it down on the centre of the table, its chain circling it, and look to them, saying, my voice full of anticipation,
"About fucking time."