Title: Mood Strikes
Simon Williams - August 30, 2011 04:16 AM (GMT)
Since renouncing his old life, one of the things Simon found great pleasure in was renouncing the friends he had in that life. Never again would he have to pretend to care about what sort of shoes someone's wife just 'had to have' or what sort of car was going to be 'so blase' next year. Instead he was free to make his own friends, ones who cared about more substantial things, ones who had depth and character. The fact that he had yet to really find any of those people probably said more about his lack of time than anything else. Still he had made a few acquiantances at work and figured why not take them up on their offer of lunch.
Simon walked through the streets of Mutant Town, on his way to a cafe he had never been to before. His mind was free, sort of light considering he had been bogged down with work. Only the thoughts of Pietro's eccentric sister, all mysterious and scarlet, brightened his duldrums. Although, maybe she caused them.
In truth, he had been fine before meeting her, full of hope about the live he had chosen. Now though, things seemed darker, duller. Colors were not the same, sunshine was not as vibrant.
Suddenly,a truck drove by, splashing a mix of mud and water onto his shirt. It was ruined. Strange, Simon thought, given that it hadn't rained in days. Still catching his reflection in a passing car window, he saw he was a mess. There was no way he could meet company in this condition.
Stripping it off, Simon stood in his undershirt. Across the street, in a display window, Simon saw something that, had he been thinking about it, would be seem a little strange. There, in the window, sat the shirt he had been wearing, the one that was destroyed. Above it in big bright letters said' Don't get left out in the rain! 'Spur Of The Moment Sale: This shirt only: 75 percent off'
"Oh...okay," he said, tossing the now ruined cloth in a nearby trash can. He crossed the street and entered the store.
Wanda - September 1, 2011 06:16 PM (GMT)
In the store, Wanda hummed to herself and let her feet tap along to the rhythm. For the last few days, ever since her visit to see Pietro, she'd been inexplicably happy. Getting Pietro back, even broke, as he called himself, had been joyous beyond anything, and when he said he would leave again, this time to make amends; even though she understood why, and even approved, it still broke her heart and put a dark cloud over her world. But seeing Pietro, that must be why her feet were dancing and there was a song in her heart. Yes, Pietro was the reason, she was sure - never mind that her thoughts returned again and again to Agent Williams' face, his voice, his good heart.
With humming in her throat, she whirled and gasped. There he was. She stared nonplussed then smiled, " Hello again. You look," she began then took in his undershirt and slightly disheveled appearance, "like you need a shirt." She joined her at the clothes rack. " I did not know you came here," the implication plain, that non-mutants rarely came to Mutant Town. "Uhh ... What brings you here?" she corrected, though that probably didn't sound much better. "I meant," she regained her smile, "it is I who helps you, this time. Yes?"
Simon Williams - September 14, 2011 05:03 AM (GMT)
Simon was surprised and more than a little pleased to see Wanda in the store he had stumbled into. That was until he realized the condition she was finding him in. Dripping and filthy, this was not the sort of impression he wanted to make. She smiled though and, though she mentioned his appearance, she didn't seem stuck on it.
"Yeah, I got myself into a little bit of an accident. I'm something of a klutz, or I have been lately."
She was kind and graceful as she continued, a quality in her voice that spoke of a time that no longer existed, if it ever really did.
"I don't usually. I was passing through, meeting some friends. Well, friends is a strong word, but I was going to have lunch. I got all dirty. It's been a strange day."
His words flowed clumsily, and his hands wrung together nervously. Funny, he had spoken to the most powerful businessmen on the planet without breaking a sweat, but two minutes with Wanda and he was a gibbering idiot.
"Yeah," he exclaimed. "That would be wonderful. I need.... a shirt, obviously. I mean, the exact shirt I was wearing is in the window...oddly enough, but if you would help me with maybe picking something else, that would be great."
Wanda - September 16, 2011 06:01 AM (GMT)
Wanda and Simon jp
"You must have a busy life," she began as she cast her eye the over the array of shirts. "Schedule lunches friends who may be not friends. I just have lunch with who ever is around when I am hungry. Do you schedule many things in your life?"
One shirt seemed to call to her. Red, of course, and her hand went to it.
Wanda reached for a red shirt, not exactly what Simon was wearing, or was used to, but it seemed to work.
"No. I don't really do schedules anymore , not really. My life used to be all about schedules. When I worked for my dad, it was always 'Be here at this time', 'Make sure you're in Italy on Monday. Can't keep Mr. Fisk waiting', or 'Dinner is at seven, and is not optional.'"
He twitched a little as he spoke of his father. "He was a structured man."
He looked the shirt over, putting a hand through his hair. "That's not bad actually. The color, it's warm."
"Bright colors. Lively colors. They make you stand out," she nodded to herself with a smile, "and you should stand out." Then smiled wider as he took it and seemed to consider. "Your father. Is that why you are rebuilding yourself? But," she went on, "who schedule this meal with people not your friends." She gave him a mock sagely look, "you are turning back on your old habits. I think I shall have to save you from yourself, she grinned."
He smiled as she did. It was infectious, combustible.
"I don't know about standing out, but thanks for the compliment. And yeah, I mean in a roundabout way, my father has a lot to do with why I'm doing what I'm doing. He always wanted me to live a certain way, to be a certain man. After he died, I just started to think, what's it all for? If you're going to end up in the ground anyway, you might as well do something that makes a difference."
He chuckled out loud as she teased him. "Alright Ms. Maximoff, I'm game. You wanna break me of my old ways, go for it."
Wanda - September 18, 2011 10:27 PM (GMT)
"Then come home with me for your lunch," she coaxed and playfully tugged at his arm. "As I recall, the last time I saw you, I promised you a good meal." A first meeting that was only a few days ago, and only for a short while, but since then, she'd had the feeling of just marking time, waiting for the moment she'd see him again.
Waiting patiently for him to purchase the shirt, because he was a good man and would never dream of walking out with the shirt without paying for it, though, in all honesty, she would, Wanda stood by the door, idly gazing at the nearby shelves. Tilting her head to one side, she delicately picked up a trinket; it was something she could see Madison making, in one his more whimsical moments, moments that were unfortunately fewer and fewer after her last plunge into madness and they had wordlessly drifted apart. It was a metal rose with a cotton ball of rose scent wedge at the center of curved metal pedals. It was beautiful and would stay that way forever - frozen perfection. Though, if Madison really wanted to show off, she knew he'd make the metal flower move and bend, perhaps even make a robotic version of walking roses she had made. But for all that, it wouldn't grow, it wouldn't change, it would stay - frozen beauty.
She looked back toward Simon and grin, extending her hand to him. "X-Factor is this way. Are you ready?"