There was no knowing that pulling that creature through would mean monsters from the different universes would be pulled in. So, no.
[she has no desire to rub it on his face]
Many are going to be unhappy about this. Outside of Solvunn. Given how they reacted to the information Istredd and I shared about what happened with Josselyn, they’ll be more than happy to find someone to blame.
[Another beat, but there's the distinct sense that Henry is only pulling together the words he wishes to say; not out of anything like shame or embarrassment.]
I feel as though anger is being placed in my direction, and for no reason at all. If something's clawing at the veil between worlds, is it my fault that that barrier is so thin to begin with?
Otherwise, I'm fine. Waiting for the calvary to roll in, maybe, but fine.
I'd like to think that those in Solvunn won't be selling you out.
I don't think it's fair either that you got singled out. I don't know about the two other nations, but things here in Solvunn are — different. It's not like we have a handbook for how things work, either.
[she's protective, even if she thinks very much that he was wrong. especially after she had warned him.]
But if you do need anything, you should let me know.
[Doesn’t think it’s fair. For not the first time, his thoughts align with Wanda. There’s a sense of something easing over their connection, like a taut thread growing five degrees slacker.]
It isn’t fair.
[Good thing they have that cleared up.]
It could have been anyone. Anyone just curious enough to do the same; would the Singularity have treated them so blatantly then, too?
Well, there's no response for now. Time passes, enough to assume that Henry has either begun his travels over, or that he's changed his mind entirely.
Except it's the former, revealed when the nearness of a mind brushes her own. A reaching outwards with telepathy, rather than using their connection via the Singularity to communicate.]
I don’t think that was the intent, but sure looks like that.
[she didn’t wait for him out in the garden, because then she’d be waiting a long time. wanda had gone back inside to do her usual chores, and his message finds her up on the third floor of the treehouse, out on the balcony.
she sees him after a moment, through the canopy, and tugs at their telepathic connection; only when he does look up does she raise a hand to wave at him. henry should find the path towards the treehouse’s entrance just fine. as for wanda—she disappears from the balcony, heads inside, and makes her way down to the bottom floor.
an orange cat will greet henry in the garden, tail perked up, meowing to get his attention.]
[No, he suspects she wasn't out in the garden, but he does feel a tug at the corners of his mind, and redirects his gaze up to the balcony. He raises his brows, gives a little smile, but not much else.
Instead, he'll wait for her to meet him down here, all while a little orange cat comes out to greet him. Henry... doesn't have the best track record with small animals, but he certainly has little reason to do more than just let the creature rub his against his leg if it gets close enough.]
[the orange cat purrs and rubs against his leg, as expected, the curious little pouch on its back pulling away from the usual collar with a jingle on its neck. wanda appears through the door, looking at him.]
He doesn’t have an official name.
[she studies henry’s face for a moment.
he seems as calm as ever. wanda motions for him to follow her inside, through the door.]
[He's good at being calm on the outside, having put his demeanor back together somewhere between then and now. A conversation about the previous topic at hand will undoubtedly dredge more sincere emotions out, probably none of them too flattering, but that'll cross that bridge again when they get there.]
You should at least name him.
[Even the kids in the lab at least got a number, gosh.
[as henry goes in, the cat steps inside, too, hurrying ahead of them towards the kitchen.]
There are different tiers in the treehouse, so if I need to send something to someone—I just put it in his little backpack.
[—pouch—]
He’s very well trained.
[because she created him with a specific intention in her magic when she did so. the cat meows as they reach the kitchen, and wanda sets down a bowl with a mix of meats for him; as for them, wanda grabs a warm cup of tea and hands it over to henry.
[The interior does very little to quell his first impression of this being a rather storybook place, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Just... quaint, in a way that he isn't entirely used to, not even within Solvunn territory.
His eyes roam, following the cat, then Wanda, then taking the tea as they reach their destination and she hands him the warm mug.]
Peppermint. A new name for the well-trained cat? I guess it's not that bad.
[wanda knows very well that he meant the flavor, but she's not going to give him the satisfaction.]
Hmm.
[—instead, a noncommittal sound. she finds a stool for herself by the table in the kitchen and sits herself down, twirling her hand to make a cup of tea appear for herself, too, beside her elbow.]
[He will remain standing for a moment or two, opting to sip the offered tea before he says or does anything else.
Just a small sip, enough to taste the tingle of peppermint.]
What isn't?
[Henry's always turning something over in his head, perhaps something of a character flaw of his. But once again, he knows that's not her meaning, and he finally accedes as he finds somewhere nearby to sit.]
Lately, though, after... everything- [The monsters, the Singularity pinning some blame on him.] -I've been starting to wonder about our actual role in this world. As Summoned, I mean.
[why they were brought here to begin with. thorne says one thing, while the cities dictates another, while solvunn has prophetized their arrival like it something that was destined.
wanda tries not to think too hard about it, but she knows other people are.]
Do you have any theories or thoughts, or is it an existential kind of thing?
[there’s no mockery in her voice, just genuine want to understand what’s going through his mind.]
[A little shrug of his shoulders, then another sip of his tea. He rearranges the words in his head first before uttering them.]
But we're the ones with the connection to the Singularity. We're the ones with... unusual abilities, not normally seen in this world.
[Some of them are even powerful, enough to give what he assumes are the strongest magic-users in this world a run for their money. He assumes Wanda is one of those people.]
And yet we bear the brunt of all the bad things that happen to us thus far. [(This perspective is very skewed by his time in the pit.)] We're meant to be content and happy in our roles, our new homes, even if what amounts to what's happened to us is nothing short of interdimensional kidnapping.
[is what she says after a long pause—clearly, henry has been thinking about this for quite a while, or at least been thinking about it hard to draw this kind of conclusion, to spin into these kind of thoughts.]
It's like we're punished for being here, as if—
[well.
she turns to look at him, a frown in her expression.]
We are the ones that don't belong.
[parasites, in this world. anomalies.]
Maybe this world, its magic—whatever it is, it's trying to fight us off. The way our bodies would with a cold.
[the question is a little unusual, and while wanda is not surprised at his just asking it,it’s curious that henry would ask it at all. she is sure, though, that he has a reason for it.]
[He asks because he's not sure how she'd take to the idea he's spinning in his head. One that hasn't taken form, but threatens to, given his recent discontent.
A pause. He supposes it would beat being dead, and his brows raise.]
...Wondering how much you'd be willing to fight for it. Or if you'd rather claw your way back home; though I suppose not, if you don't have anything waiting for you back on your world.
Sometimes, I just think we're being complacent.
[He's a fellow villain, so perhaps she would understand his restlessness. His dislike for being kept in a cage.]
[the issue here is that wanda’s keeping to herself (and a select few) the idea that she wants to return home, but in her own terms, with her own variables as far as the return trip would go.
but it’s interesting to hear what henry has to say, unfiltered, almost.]
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[she has no desire to rub it on his face]
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I feel as though anger is being placed in my direction, and for no reason at all. If something's clawing at the veil between worlds, is it my fault that that barrier is so thin to begin with?
Otherwise, I'm fine. Waiting for the calvary to roll in, maybe, but fine.
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[she's protective, even if she thinks very much that he was wrong. especially after she had warned him.]
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It isn’t fair.
[Good thing they have that cleared up.]
It could have been anyone. Anyone just curious enough to do the same; would the Singularity have treated them so blatantly then, too?
What are you doing right now?
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[This is an anomaly, Henry choosing to willingly spend time with someone else; even if he just rudely inviting himself, too.]
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[at least waiting isn't so awful to do when you are at home.]
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Well, there's no response for now. Time passes, enough to assume that Henry has either begun his travels over, or that he's changed his mind entirely.
Except it's the former, revealed when the nearness of a mind brushes her own. A reaching outwards with telepathy, rather than using their connection via the Singularity to communicate.]
Like something out of a storybook, isn't it.
[Hi, he's here.]
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[she didn’t wait for him out in the garden, because then she’d be waiting a long time. wanda had gone back inside to do her usual chores, and his message finds her up on the third floor of the treehouse, out on the balcony.
she sees him after a moment, through the canopy, and tugs at their telepathic connection; only when he does look up does she raise a hand to wave at him. henry should find the path towards the treehouse’s entrance just fine. as for wanda—she disappears from the balcony, heads inside, and makes her way down to the bottom floor.
an orange cat will greet henry in the garden, tail perked up, meowing to get his attention.]
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Instead, he'll wait for her to meet him down here, all while a little orange cat comes out to greet him. Henry... doesn't have the best track record with small animals, but he certainly has little reason to do more than just let the creature rub his against his leg if it gets close enough.]
Hello. And who might you be?
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He doesn’t have an official name.
[she studies henry’s face for a moment.
he seems as calm as ever. wanda motions for him to follow her inside, through the door.]
The tea’s inside. Come on.
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You should at least name him.
[Even the kids in the lab at least got a number, gosh.
But he'll follow her in.]
Why does he have a little backpack?
[A pouch, Henry.]
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There are different tiers in the treehouse, so if I need to send something to someone—I just put it in his little backpack.
[—pouch—]
He’s very well trained.
[because she created him with a specific intention in her magic when she did so. the cat meows as they reach the kitchen, and wanda sets down a bowl with a mix of meats for him; as for them, wanda grabs a warm cup of tea and hands it over to henry.
quietly, she says,]
Peppermint.
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His eyes roam, following the cat, then Wanda, then taking the tea as they reach their destination and she hands him the warm mug.]
Peppermint. A new name for the well-trained cat? I guess it's not that bad.
[(He knows she meant the flavor.)]
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Hmm.
[—instead, a noncommittal sound. she finds a stool for herself by the table in the kitchen and sits herself down, twirling her hand to make a cup of tea appear for herself, too, beside her elbow.]
What's on your mind, anyway?
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Just a small sip, enough to taste the tingle of peppermint.]
What isn't?
[Henry's always turning something over in his head, perhaps something of a character flaw of his. But once again, he knows that's not her meaning, and he finally accedes as he finds somewhere nearby to sit.]
Lately, though, after... everything- [The monsters, the Singularity pinning some blame on him.] -I've been starting to wonder about our actual role in this world. As Summoned, I mean.
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[why they were brought here to begin with. thorne says one thing, while the cities dictates another, while solvunn has prophetized their arrival like it something that was destined.
wanda tries not to think too hard about it, but she knows other people are.]
Do you have any theories or thoughts, or is it an existential kind of thing?
[there’s no mockery in her voice, just genuine want to understand what’s going through his mind.]
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[A little shrug of his shoulders, then another sip of his tea. He rearranges the words in his head first before uttering them.]
But we're the ones with the connection to the Singularity. We're the ones with... unusual abilities, not normally seen in this world.
[Some of them are even powerful, enough to give what he assumes are the strongest magic-users in this world a run for their money. He assumes Wanda is one of those people.]
And yet we bear the brunt of all the bad things that happen to us thus far. [(This perspective is very skewed by his time in the pit.)] We're meant to be content and happy in our roles, our new homes, even if what amounts to what's happened to us is nothing short of interdimensional kidnapping.
Don't you find that odd?
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[is what she says after a long pause—clearly, henry has been thinking about this for quite a while, or at least been thinking about it hard to draw this kind of conclusion, to spin into these kind of thoughts.]
It's like we're punished for being here, as if—
[well.
she turns to look at him, a frown in her expression.]
We are the ones that don't belong.
[parasites, in this world. anomalies.]
Maybe this world, its magic—whatever it is, it's trying to fight us off. The way our bodies would with a cold.
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[He says with a thin smile, wry beneath his politeness, but not at all worried if Wanda interprets it as acerbic. One more sip of his tea.]
Let's put that thought on hold for a moment. Can I ask you something? [He's gonna anyway.] Are you happy here?
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Beats being dead.
[—back home, and considering what she has here.]
Why do you ask?
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A pause. He supposes it would beat being dead, and his brows raise.]
...Wondering how much you'd be willing to fight for it. Or if you'd rather claw your way back home; though I suppose not, if you don't have anything waiting for you back on your world.
Sometimes, I just think we're being complacent.
[He's a fellow villain, so perhaps she would understand his restlessness. His dislike for being kept in a cage.]
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but it’s interesting to hear what henry has to say, unfiltered, almost.]
What exactly do you have in mind?
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