Who Ya Gonna Call? (Laura)

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[attr="class","post2"]The chirping was as familiar a sound as her own heartbeat. Why, then, was she so unsettled by it? Wanda stood in the open space of the great room of her new apartment, staring at the box that the noise emanated from with eyes wide. Her fingers tightened fiercely on the book that she'd been unpacking and she clutched it to her chest instinctively. Logic dictated that only something dire could cause that sound to ring out in the Scarlet Witch's abode. Or was she making the chasm between herself and the rest of the superhero community too greater than it really was in her mind?

Wanda didn't think so.

She sat the book back in its box among a stack of its fellows and took a bracing breath. That the events of the past few years could make what she was about to do as daunting as it was still overwhelmed her sometimes. Wanda carefully crossed the distance to the singing box and peeled away the tape closing it. All the while the chirp persisted and a very small, shameful part of her wished that it would stop before she had to go through with it. Finally Wanda parted the lips of the container and there atop a pile of folded cloth was her Avengers Identi-Card, the stylized "A" flashing with each whine of the alarm.

Wanda pressed the receiving button on the card and said, "Yes? This is-" a pause, then, "the Scarlet Witch." She listened to the voice on the other end state that they were representatives of Avengers Academy. Wanda knew, vaguely, of the establishment, but not much other than its general goal. The more that she listened to the member of the Academy staff that had called, the more her brow furrowed. They were having some paranormal issues on the campus and were seeking her aid in removing them. "I doubt that I was your first choice," Wanda said, and winced at the dry wither she couldn't keep from her voice.

The speaker fidgeted and explained reluctantly that none of the Academy's other magical contacts were answering, and time was relative. Wanda smiled; harsh and bitter, but still. Somehow, knowing that made everything better. Her heart fluttered in her chest but Wanda ignored it. She knew she'd have to start using her talents to atone for what she'd done. There was no use avoiding the start, though the first step was always the hardest to make. "I would be honored to extend my services," she said, closing her eyes as she did so. They were relieved and said that a Quincarrier would be there to transport her in one hour's time.

"That will be fine." With a thanks that the Scarlet Witch thought truly heartfelt, the conversation ended. She stood there, hands braced on the edges of the box for a long moment. Finally Wanda eased the ID card from its place and sat it aside gently. With a soft sigh she pulled at the fabric of what had been underneath it, producing a cloth headdress that was now wildly out of style - if, in fact, it had ever been in style. Beneath it was a roll of pink stockings and a folded crimson leotard, neatly squared cloak and two matching gloves: the very same costume she had worn when she debuted with the Avengers.

Wanda rubbed the cloth between her fingers experimentally, then returned the headdress to its place. She grabbed her ID card with the intent to drop it back in the box, then hesitated. She bit her lip, decided, and taped the box back up with the square of hi-tech gadgetry still in hand. Wanda surveyed the room, still mostly filled with boxes and mismatched furnishings. Continuing would have to wait. She had to get ready. She had a job to do, and she hoped that she wasn't too rusty at saving the world.

Tag Laura Kinney

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[attr="class","post2"]She stood with her back to the academy, the collar of her thick leather jacket turned up against the wind. Her pale hands were stuffed deep into her pockets, and her hair, raven, wild and free as normal blew about her face. Jade eyes searched the far horizon endlessly, waiting for any sign that the absent quincarrier might be returning. It had been gone almost an hour, and she knew the estimated time of the vehicles arrival was drawing near. Its passenger, a woman known as the Scarlet Witch, had been invited to the academy to help deal with an issue the students had been having – and Laura Kinney was to help her in any way she could. It was the closest thing she’d had to a mission objective since she arrived at the institution; and to say she was itching to get started was an understatement. There was a problem within her new home, and she would aid in finding the solution.

At first, she had not believed there to be a real issue. It had all started with whispered rumours among the students; stories that strange things had been happening in the hallways. People had seen things, felt sudden drops in temperature and been roused in the night thanks to inanimate objects moving about their dorm rooms. Laura had simply passed it off as mass hysteria and contagious paranoia. She believed one student had been traumatised by a night terror and merely told their story to another, who in turn suffered a night terror. The chain of people then continued on and on until a significant number of teens were panicked by stories; their mind playing tricks on them in the dark.

But then she had experienced odd happenings herself, and however pragmatic the young woman was, she found it hard not to change her point of view. Indeed, her sensitive nose picked up unfamiliar odours that changed over time, stopping abruptly should she try to track the unknown scents. She heard noises without origin, something she had never experienced. The more these oddities occurred, the more readily she believed her classmates – and had some come to agree the academy was in the thrall of ‘paranormal activity.’

Understand the term though she may, X-23 still didn’t quite understand the first person camera references people made when talking about it.

Her own experiences made her incredibly agreeable when a number of the faculty’s instructors approached her, asking her to personally aid outside help in discovering what was causing the problems. It was revealed that with the institute’s staff already thinly stretched, student aid would be necessary. Laura was an obvious choice; her senses far surpassed the others at the academy, and she knew the halls better than most, a natural explorer of all terrain.

Contacted earlier that very morning, X-23 had been informed she would be working alongside the Scarlet Witch, a mysterious figure Laura knew little about; especially without being given the time to research the woman first. However, her name was certainly one that suggested she knew the supernatural well. Laura had been given little else in the way of explanation or information; before being sent to greet the new arrival upon her disembarking the quincarrier.

The distant sound of engines drew the woman’s eyes skyward once again, drawing her from her thoughts. The giant machine was visible, getting ever larger. Stepping back from the landing zone, Laura prepared to greet their visitor – no doubt a simple ‘Hello’ the best she’d have to offer.


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Tag: Wanda Maximoff
Notes: I hope this fits and presents something you can build on in your post!

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[attr="class","post2"]The point of securing a new penthouse apartment in one of the oldest buildings of New York City had been to physically represent the fresh start she was endeavoring to make. Anonymity was something that Wanda had grown to cherish since the tragedy that had happened when she and Doctor Doom dabbled in the Life Force. She was enjoying the fact that no one, not the media or her neighbors, knew that the Scarlet Witch had moved in upstairs. Wanda had gone to great lengths, and even used the odd spell, to keep it that way.

In honor of this, the Quincarrier had agreed to pick her up at a nearby plaza that was being secured for touch down. Wanda wrapped herself in a form-fitting, long red coat and tucked her brown curls beneath a pink scarf that she knotted under her chin. On the way out of her apartment she tugged on a pair of black gloves and pulled on similarly colored knee-high boots. Wanda closed her door, with a quiver of her fingers awakening some defensive measures she'd placed in the short time since moving in.

The walk to the plaza was uneventful. No one expected a superhero to be wearing civilian clothes and blending in. Then again, no one expected superheroes to have lives outside of capes and kevlar and spandex. To move to the suburbs, purchase a house and settle into domesticity... Wanda pulled the edge of her scarf further down. SHIELD agents were already stationed at the plaza, having cleared the area for the Quincarrier's arrival. She wasn't made to wait long, and traded nothing more than nods to the agents who recognized her.

Once aboard the Quincarrier, it dawned on Wanda that she didn't know where she was bound. "Where is the Academy located?" she asked of her pilot. "Los Angeles," she said. "They renovated the old West Coast Avengers facility to house it." Wanda blinked and, at a loss for words, settled back into her seat. She folded her hands in her lap and stared out the windshield of the carrier, at cloud vapor hissing against its aerodynamic plains. So, she was headed for a place that held no shortage of memories for her. Few of which she recalled fondly.

The Scarlet Witch kept to her own thoughts during the journey. When the Quincarrier landed, she glanced at the windswept lawns visible through the windshield. "We're here. Your guide is waiting just outside with more information on the situation." Wanda rose from her seat and approached the back of the cockpit while the ramp descended. She kept one hand on her scarf-covered head when she entered into the elements outside. There, standing in front of the main building, was a woman with dark hair in a leather jacket who looked distinctly unpleasant. "I take it that you're to be my guide?" she asked while the engines of the Quincarrier died.

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[attr="class","post2"]The quinjet touched down slowly, and as she stepped toward the built-in ramp she knew would descend to expel their visitor, Laura was buffeted by powerful air currents caused by the machine’s repulsor-based engines. She grunted a little, the roar of its motors near enough deafening to her sensitive ears, but with a slight wince, she grimaced and bore it. Raising an arm up, she used her hand to cover her eyes as she moved, her hair whipping about her face along with dust, dirt and debris that lay about the landing pad. The unnatural hurricane was short lived, but it was enough to further ruffle her clothing and make her look even more disgruntled than she had already. Stopping at the rear of the carrier, her back to the academy, she thrust her hands deep into the pockets of her skin-tight black jeans and stood by one of the rear vertical stabilizers – or as she preferred to refer to them; ‘fins.’

Then, she waited.

The ramp hissed as it parted from the jet’s metallic hull, slowly lowering and resting against the ground in order to provide a short walkway for whoever was inside to descend onto the landing pad. A few moments later, a woman appeared, her hair tied beneath a pink scarf, much of her body covered by a form-fitting coat - crimson in colour - that trailed close to the floor. Laura’s nostrils twitched a little as the woman came closer; her nose usually her way of quickly assessing those new to her – scents were awfully revealing, incredibly personal and more importantly difficult to mask.

The soft aroma of roses and exotic oils filled her lungs, and the young woman could pick out the distinctive fragrances of geranium and sandalwood and…something else; something that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to raise a little, her muscles to tense. It was an odour she’d never smelt before, rare considering the number of places she’d worked and the sheer volume of people she’d worked with. And worse; it smelt dangerous, a palpable burning scent hidden beneath the sickly sweet floral perfumes the Scarlet Witch clearly tended toward. Wrinkling her nose, her eyes narrowed a little. Were she an animal, she would have growled.

Instead, she waited for the other to reach her, who, upon doing so, asked if Laura was to be her guide. Looking at her mute for a long moment, X-23’s gaze was steely. “If you are the Scarlet Witch,” she replied, more than a little curtly. Then, without waiting long, she turned on her heel and started back toward the academy, keeping up a deceptively quick pace. If the woman was there to help them, which she supposedly was, she wouldn’t be doing so from the landing pad. The faster they got into the academy, the faster they could start and the faster the woman who made X-23 feel uneasy would be gone.

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Tag: Wanda Maximoff
Notes: I hope this gives you enough to work with!

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[attr="class","post2"]Wanda knew when she was being assessed. It had become much more frequent after everything fell apart, when she was hated by a whole culture and the question of her powers brought up the debate over whether or not she should even be allowed to live. The girl - because she was little more than a child, in Wanda's eyes - was doing that just now. Sizing her up while she walked down the ramp toward her. The Scarlet Witch didn't give an indicator that the surveillance was noted. Certainly it didn't make her self-conscious; she was too used to it to be.

Her question was met with nothing but renewed eye contact. Wanda did not venture a smile because she didn't think it would help. It would be forced, too, because of her introspective and even anxious temperament about trying to do superhero work again. This girl would notice if a grin wasn't genuine, Wanda thought. Instead she sustained her business-like demeanor and serious expression. The answer was blunt. Wanda almost would have thought that it was snarky or sarcastic, but it wasn't. Just straightforward and to the point. The girl reminded her of someone, she just couldn't place her finger on it.

"Please," she said, "call me Wanda, under the circumstances." That was when she put forth a fleeting, half-smile. She was there on business, but this young woman was a fellow superhero to be. Not only, but the Scarlet Witch would wager she had seen more action and experienced more than any of her classmates; which begged the question of why she was attending the Academy to begin with? The girl turned around abruptly and marched toward the front entrance of the main building. Wanda waited on the spot for a moment.

Her hazel eyes took in the structure before her. Much had changed since last she was there. Wanda could almost fool herself into thinking this was a new site altogether, but there was the ghost of the facility when she lived there, as a West Coast Avenger, whispering over its edges in her memory. The Scarlet Witch wasn't only pestered by the past. There was something in the air that had nothing whatsoever to do with her history. Something that skittered over her senses, illusive, but plain.

The Scarlet Witch pressed her lips together in a determined line and set off after her guide. Her reverie only lasted several steps, and swift strides caught her up to the young woman partway through the foyer. "What am I to call you?" she asked. Wanda could have stopped there and tried to trace the odd presence teasing her awareness, but having the guide take her to locations of paranormal phenomenon would be swifter, so she kept following.

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[attr="class","post2"]Laura continued on heedless of the fact ‘Wanda’ had not started walking with her, the woman remaining where she stood as the younger of the pair made her way toward the academy. She had no time for pleasantries and forced smiles, and it was likely the witch would catch up soon enough. She needed a guide, after all – and that was X-23’s purpose. With each step, she put more and more distance between them, but had no need to look back – and thus didn’t. If the woman started walking and closed the gap; she’d both hear it and smell it.

Focussed entirely on her mission, Laura continued straight on, and upon reaching the building that had once been a base for the West Coast Avengers before being converted into the academy, entered the school’s foyer. It was around that time her ward caught up with her, the woman’s footfalls fleet and rapid – though not quite a jog. The mutant didn’t pause, not even when Wanda asked her name. Instead, she merely inclined her head a little so she would better hear her response; “You can call me X-23.” Names were reserved to people she knew, people she liked. The woman she spoke to was neither.

Entering one of the complex’s long corridors, Laura finally came to a halt, freezing. Tentatively, she raised her head and sniffed the air, searching for the scent she had come to associate with the ‘ghost’ that plagued them. Not that she was sure it was a ghost, it was just the theory offered by her classmates, though the fact it had its own unique stench only alluded to them being correct. However, a part of her refused to believe it; even after all she’d seen. As far as she was concerned, ghosts belonged in sleep; in memories. She had more than a few that haunted her, and not one influenced the corporeal world about her.

She sniffed again, sifting through the odours of coffee, perfume and sweat – before finally picking out the aroma she’d come to associate with the academy’s invader; the weak remnants of a scent days old following the last haunting. Taking a few steps after it, making sure the aroma she was going to follow remained strong enough to track, she remembered the woman at her side; the witch whom she’d been assigned to help.

She supposed, begrudgingly, she should offer her at least a little information.

“Whatever is haunting the academy doesn’t appear during the day,” she muttered in her flat tone of voice, jumping straight into business, assuming Wanda knew why she had been summoned. “When it does, it leaves behind a strong smell. Tracking the scent leads to a dead end.” She had no clue how much the witch already knew of specific happenings, but she hoped that was description enough for her to work from.

Turning toward the woman a little more, Laura fixed her eyes upon her. Then, tilting her head, the blunt teen shrugged as if to say ‘well, is there anything here?’ It was the first of a number of sites about the academy that Laura had committed to memory, and she would lead the witch around all of them until one produced results.
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Tag: Wanda Maximoff
Notes: I hope this gives you enough to work with!

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[attr="class","post2"]Well, it would appear that Wanda's guide was not going to get in better spirits as she warmed up. The sorceress supposed that that would have been too easy, too ideal, for her first foray back into superheroic; by herself, no less. When the young woman named herself X-23, Wanda bit the inside of her cheek. Not because she avoided offering a proper name. They didn't know each other well, and not everyone had the luxury of trading their true identity like a long-time Avenger did. (Besides, it was plain that this girl didn't care for her, anyway.) The name was heavy-handed and indicative of her nature as a mutant.

Probably one affiliated, or formerly affiliated, with the X-Men. Wanda wondered if this could perhaps be the reason behind the distaste that X-23 put forth for a moment. Finally, she decided that she didn't think so. X-23's demeanor was something between bitterness and instinctive dislike. Wanda wasn't taking it personally, even if a part of her was moving past inquisitiveness at X-23's attitude toward annoyance. Packing those prickly thoughts away, Wanda dutifully followed the young woman out of the entry hall and into one of the corridors that branched away from it.

Soon, they were stopped. The Scarlet Witch's brow furrowed. She looked around, not seeing the passageway, but something else. Yes, the hushed entity that she had tasted on the doorstep was clearer here. Still, it kept its identity or any indicative traits to itself. Wanda felt like she was searching days-old tracks in disturbed soil. Things may have been more simple were they not in an area that had steady foot traffic every day. Auras and energies and emotions contaminating a paranormal crime scene.

X-23 spoke. Wanda didn't turn toward her, her hazel gaze still narrowly scouring the area. That the haunting was happening at night was not strange. Most spirits - if that's what this was - were more active when the sun was away, for myriad reasons. Only when X-23 mentioned a scent did the Scarlet Witch's eyes widen. She faced the young woman again, appearing intrigued. "What kind of scent, exactly?" she asked. This factoid was much stranger than the nocturnal proclivity that the phenomenon had. Temperatures dropping, electrical devices malfunctioning, an overwhelming impression of one emotion or another: all hallmarks of a textbook specter.

Scents, though? That was rarer. Focusing on it was simple logic. "Can you take me to the most recent location of these events?" The Scarlet Witch didn't think that merely the description of the scent would bring the investigation to a close. If X-23 took her to the newest site of the haunting, things would be freshest. The most easy to sift through and determine.

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[attr="class","post2"]If the information X-23 provided had been useful to the mystic, she certainly didn’t let on that it had been so. Indeed, she listened to much of what the dark haired girl said with a relatively passive expression on her face – only looking intrigued when she mentioned that the spirit, or whatever it was, had a rather distinctive stench. It was at that point the witch broke her silence and asked the young mutant what scent it was she smelt, Laura’s eyebrows knitted slightly, frowning in concentration. Angling her head one way, and then the other, she sniffed the air a few times, nostrils twitching. Then, her frown deepened. Simply, it wasn’t an aroma she knew, at least not to put into words. There was no simple comparison for the odour that assaulted her senses.

With one last deep breath, she looked back to the woman at her side. “Acrid. Burning.” Then she paused, thinking of her next choice of words carefully. “Old and rotting.” But yet still more, and somehow less. Whatever it was, the description offered was the most accurate she could give. Either her vocabulary was not broad enough to accurately evoke the scent, or there was no smell on the mortal plane that she could compare it too. Both seemed likely; for it was not often Laura Kinney was forced to sniff out something incorporeal or spiritual.

However, despite her lack of descriptive ability, the Scarlet Witch seemed even more interested by the word choices offered, and appeared to discard the rest of what X-23 had said before she’d mentioned the smell. When asked if she could guide her to the most recent place of haunting, Laura nodded curtly – she knew it would be one of three reported sites, located close to one another, and she could use her nose to determine exactly which it was. “Follow,” she commanded, before starting walking once again, taking off down the corridor with quick strides, her heavy boots soundless despite their weight.

The journey was not a long one, but X-23 made it in silence, her entire focus upon the trail she was following. Every now and again she would pause, lifting her nose upward, before quickly changing direction, weaving through the labyrinth of halls throughout the academy. Eventually, she lead the pair to a long service corridor – used to move between older parts of the facility. It was a place very few spent long periods of time, but passed through often – a short cut between two newer wings. Heading down it slowly, she could near feel a growl rising in the back of her throat, but she repressed it.

Every step made the originally bearable scent ever more pungent, and she wanted to gag, her stomach turning. Halfway along it, she stopped and looked back. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, not that the witch, but rather their surroundings, she raised an arm to gesture at the apparently bare hallway. “Here. This is the most recent location.” She shuddered again. “The smell of fire and decay is overpowering.”
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Tag: Wanda Maximoff
Notes: I hope this gives you enough to work with and that Laura's scents are okay for your post!

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[attr="class","post2"]Wanda became even more serious when X-23 struggled to describe what, exactly, the incorporeal menace pestering the Academy smelled like. She didn't have to be a sorceress to know that her guide had little-to-no experience with matters of magic. Few things in the world of mysticism were easy to explain in any language and those not familiar with it were at the largest loss. They tried to rationalize, take the unknown and graft it onto their concept of how the world worked. The key to encountering magic and coming out on the other side with your sanity in tact? Accept mystery. Come to terms with not knowing.

X-23's muddled description didn't bode well. The Scarlet Witch knew what it sounded like she was trying to explain, but she hoped that that wasn't the case. She kept the thought from forming, even, as though letting it do so would make the theory into reality by wishing it. Wanda narrowed her eyes fractionally when X-23 commanded that she follow her. She tapped a finger to her leg to expel a little bit of her mounting vexations with her guide. The Scarlet Witch's pursed lips smoothed in a smile and she shook her head. She'd dealt with far more grating personas and kept her calm. That was without something like a magical investigation to focus on.

Really, the Scarlet Witch was surprised that the problem the Academy was having was turning out to be something at all. During the entire trip there she expected to find nothing. Or, when she found it, the source to be something that the faculty members didn't see coming. Wanda surmised that the answer was "magic" to them because all of their technology came up dry when trying to find the source of the haunting. Still, she was actually quite happy that she'd been summoned. The scientists of the superhero community - of which most she counted personal friends - were usually loathe to use the M-word. That they had not only used it, but humbled themselves by calling in someone seasoned in sorcery was a refreshing example of passivity.

Now that she was on the case, following X-23 as her nose lead them through the building, Wanda could not deny that things were looking grave. At length they entered into a passageway that was older than those rooms and paths they'd taken thus far. Wanda remembered it, in fact, from her time as a member of Avengers West Coast. She didn't need X-23 to tell her that that was the place, either. The air was thick with malice and a dark purpose laced with cruel cunning. The Scarlet Witch's fingers curled and flexed at her sides, ready to expend magicks at need. "I see," she said quietly. Wanda centered herself and looked at X-23. "Stand back, please."

The Scarlet Witch moved to the center of the corridor and extended one hand in front of her. Magenta light flickered over her fingers, then caught fire and ignited into a hex sphere that hovered beneath her palm, under-lighting her fingers. The globule of energies cast sharp light over the scene for a moment, then was gone. Except, that light hadn't fully left. On the wall nearby Wanda, the glow remained, stuck there like faint glaze. The shape of a hand dragged down it whose fingers stretched to wicked points. Arrogant for it to leave such a trace, Wanda thought smugly. She walked toward it, stopped, and extended a hand to brush over the leftover hand print.

The moment the Scarlet Witch made contact, an image flashed through her mind, so quick and sharp and painful she felt like she'd been struck by lightning. Her eyes flared wide, reflecting fire that wasn't there, her lips parted and she cried out in muffled anguish. Wanda leaped back, holding the wrist of the hand that had touched the wall with the other. Her palm was smoking, filling the passage with the smell X-23 had followed, only clear enough for even the sorceress' untrained nose to taste. Foolish, foolish, foolish, the Scarlet Witch scorned herself. "Don't come closer!" she warned X-23. The demon - for that was what this was - hadn't left the trace because of negligence; it was a trap.

Wanda pried off the glove of the smoking hand and revealed that her veins were standing out dark and black beneath her skin. "Damn," she muttered, though she wasn't quick to curse. The Scarlet Witch fixed a mystic diagram in her mind's eye. With a wave of her unharmed hand another hex sphere ignited and lashed out to smite her offended wrist. Runes and mystic symbols etched in magenta light encircled Wanda's forearm like a bangle. The black veins struggled to spread their curse past the boundaries of the markings, but couldn't. The Scarlet Witch breathed heavily for a moment, then appeared to remember that she was not alone.

Straightening, Wanda wiped cool sweat from her brow with the back of her good hand and gingerly tugged back on her glove. "This is worse than I thought. The entity that's doing this has just been toying with people so far. Now that I've unearthed it things will only get worse. Which means that I need to deal with it as soon as possible." The Scarlet Witch bit her bottom lip. She was planning on casting a hex to track the aura of the demon, but now that she'd fallen into its trap she couldn't potentially waste energy. "You said," Wanda looked at X-23, "that this scent leads to a dead end. Where is that dead end?"

Wanda knew she'd only lift the dark magic embedded in her palm by exorcising the demonic influence. Which would be hard to do normally and now she was down to one hand. The worst part was the image that flashed through her mind when she touched the hand print. The Scarlet Witch knew who this demon worked for... She just hoped his master wasn't directly involved. Great Gaea, don't let him be behind this, she thought.

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[attr="class","post2"]X-23 watched Wanda carefully as she stepped into the middle of the corridor, curling and flexing her gloved fingers as if tugging at invisible strings, as if reality itself were a puppet and she was readying herself to control it and bend it to her will. Stepping back on command, Laura couldn’t help her hands curling into fists, teeth gritting a little, staring on tight lipped. She had decided she did not like magic, not in the slightest. But if it was to make the academy safe again, she would tolerate it; at least for the time being. After all, it wasn’t like she had much of a choice.

She continued to observe the Witch as red light began to dance about her extended fingers, and once again, the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Before long, her hand was encased in an unnatural crimson orb, flames licking at its edges. Raising a hand to shield her sensitive eyes from the glare, Laura found herself dropping it a moment later, the brilliant light extinguished in seconds. Tilting her head, her nose wrinkled. What had been the point in that little display of power? It seemed as though nothing had changed at all…

Until she saw a glowing hand print upon the wall.

Turning to face it, she narrowed her eyes and stared at the blood-red aura the mark left. At a glance Laura had considered the handprint human, but on closer inspection, it was far from it. It was much larger, each finger-tip ending in what looked like a wicked claw. Did the phantom that had haunted the academy have a body? A corporeal form? Oh, how Laura wished it did. It will regret its return from the dead if it has. The Witch stepped toward it, and so too did X-23, though froze as the elder woman reached out and brushed her fingers against the mark – before leaping back and crying out.

Mirrioring her, Laura jumped back a few feet, dropping into a crouched stance, green eyes wild and alert. Letting out a throaty snarl, she dropped her hands to her side, balling them into fists, and she felt the familiar agony of metal cutting through muscle, bone and skin, the two claws housed in her forearm bursting from between her knuckles. The adamantium-laced bones shone in the dull light, and she looked around herself, sniffing the air, eyes darting endlessly.

But there was nothing for her to hurl herself at. Nothing to attack or fend off.

Standing, she made to move for the woman who’d begun smoking at the palm, filling the corridor with a pungent stench; the one she’d followed earlier but made infinitely stronger. Her nose wrinkled and she felt her senses get overwhemled, her stomach lurching a little, but luckily managed to keep herself calm – focussing on the woman that needed her help.

Not that the young mutant made it to her. Rather than let X-23 close the gap between them, Wanda waved her off, Laura halting a good few feet from her. She watched the woman peel her glove off, her eyebrows raising a little at the sight of the pulsating black veins beneath. They looked remarkably like they’d been inflicted with poison. Should she need her hand removing before it could spread, Laura would be happy to oblige – though she kept silent. She would only act if aid was needed, in which case she would do so quickly and decisively.

However, the woman was calm enough, seemingly unperturbed by the sight, and with a quick wave of her other hand, red markings appeared on her skin, encircling the afflicted area like a bracelet. It seemed as though they had been used to fight whatever it was causing the infection, the dark, swollen veins pulsating a little more but to no avail, unable to spread their clutches to engulf the rest of her arm. It looked like she would be keeping her hand.

It was at that point Wanda seemed to remember X-23, standing and wiping her brow, before quickly tugging her glove back on. Laura straightened herself up too, though she her claws remained protruding from her hands. There was no way she felt comfortable enough to let them retreat back into their fleshy casing – not after what had just happened.

She let out a short snort at the information given by the witch, not keen on the idea things where worse than expected, though, she was not overly sure she’d expected anything else. Looking around herself quickly, Laura shrugged half-heartedly. “Here.” She would only expand on the answer slightly. “This is the dead end.” She turned on her heel, circling a little, sniffing a few more times- though the overpowering smell caused by the touching of the hand print stopped her being as effective as usual.

“It always stops here…” Which is why it was so odd – there seemed to be nothing of interest in the corridor at all. She had not considered the idea there may have been long hidden passages and entrances covered up in the refurbishment of the building; she had never seen the original plans.
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Tag: Wanda Maximoff
Notes: Aww! Laura does care! She was considering amputation to save Wanda! But srsly, I hope the ending was alright. I loved the idea that Wanda hid the item somewhere and it's been sort of forgotten about and lost through refurbishment <3 I can make changes if you'd prefer though!

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[attr="class","post2"]Wanda's hazel eyes skirted over the quartet of blades protruding, two from each of X-23's hands at the knuckle. Well, her name had implied as much, but this was irrefutable proof that the young woman was a mutant with ties to the X-Men. The affirmation of this news made a melancholic ache dig itself into the Scarlet Witch's heart like a thorn. She overcame it swiftly with a swell of determination. Wanda had decided before then that she was going to quest for redemption; the choice was what lead her to find her own apartment, even. This was the first tangible step to doing that and this bolstered Wanda's already incomparable resoluteness to inhuman heights.

X-23 was becoming less and less cordial as their investigation wore on - which was saying something. Soon Wanda would be fearful she'd be set upon by those four claws, simply for providing a target for X-23's frustration. The Scarlet Witch didn't think that the young woman liked the thought of being helpless, or having nothing to throw herself at. She'd worked alongside friends and allies enough who shared such traits over the years. Only with X-23, Wanda didn't know what to say to shore up her patience - wasn't keen on looking for something to say, in the first place, given X-23's blatant distaste for her thus far.

The Scarlet Witch expected her guide to lead her elsewhere, when asked where the scent lead to a dead end. She was surprised when X-23 didn't, and said that they were, in fact, already at the site of the cold trails. Wanda's brow creased and wrinkled, personifying how perplexed she was. X-23 stared swiveling on the spot, nostrils flaring and re-flaring. The Scarlet Witch ignored the sniffing of her guide, tucking her wounded hand into the armpit of the other arm and disregarding the pain that blistered through her fingers and the looming reality of what would happen if she didn't dispel the demonic influence that had deadened them before it was too late.

"I remember this passageway," Wanda said, almost to herself. She looked up and down its length. "There was-," she closed her eyes, trying to remember. Why couldn't she remember? The recollection she sought after fled whenever she came close. The Scarlet Witch was so busy trying to snatch the evading memory it took her a few moments to detect it; dark magic like unto the hand print that spurred the thought away. Wanda smiled thinly. Magic always leaves a trace, she thought to herself, remembering one of many wise things that Agatha Harkness had told her during their lessons in witchcraft so many years before.

"It's not a trap." The Scarlet Witch stared at the place the hand print was, but it had faded, its dark powers relegated to her injured hand. "It's a safeguard." Wanda reached out a hand, probing ahead of her fingers with her senses to ensure there wasn't another curse waiting for her. "A sentry." Yet another hex sphere dazzled across her fingers. The Scarlet Witch pressed her palm against the wall and the chaos magick seeped into the surface. Like sand, the wall started to disintegrate, starting at her palm and rippling outward. In moment, it stopped, a few meters wide and around eight feet tall. Now, visible in a recess behind the wall, was an old, rotten door barely hanging onto its hinges.

"There it is." Wanda looked to X-23 and pointed to a line of gray powder that stretched from one side of the door to the other, right in front of it. "The ash. It holds a confounding enchantment. I cannot even remember this door because of it," the Scarlet Witch was having trouble looking directly at the door, even. Her eyes kept wanting to skirt over it. "The spell is strong. I doubt anyone who saw the room beyond on blueprints would remember. I assume when preparing the facility for this Academy, it was covered by people who didn't even notice it was there."

She walked forward. "There is irony here. So powerful a charm, but," Wanda stuck out a foot and rubbed a line in the ash with her boot, breaking its line. The Scarlet Witch gasped softly. "Easily broken," she finished in a whisper. Because a memory of the room within was now returned to her. The room was a storage place where spare odds and ends were kept near the end of the West Coast Avengers branch's timeline. Wanda frowned. She didn't know what, laying inside, would have caused the haunting. They would find out soon enough, however. "Let's finish this, shall we?" she asked rhetorically, and opened the door.

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[attr="class","post2"]Laura continued to turn, sniffing as she did so, doing her utmost to pin-point the origin of the strange burning scent they’d followed to the corridor, trying to isolate it from the plethora of others that hung in the air. Unfortunately, and most frustratingly, she found it near impossible to do so. For whatever reason, every time she thought she came close, it seemed to change and vanish, before reappearing seconds later but bearing a slightly different signature. It was infuriating, and with her hands balled into fists, she let out the slightest of grunts – a short, sharp vocalisation of displeasure. With no enemy to fling herself at, no opponent to cut, she let her claws slide back into her forearms, wiggling her fingers a little as they vanished from sight. It hurt, as it always did, but her healing factor quickly knitted the torn skin, muscle tissue and bone back together.

An unfinished mumble from the Witch caused the raven haired girl to turn back toward the sorceress, and she tilted her head, long, dark locks falling in front of her bright eyes. Her brow furrowed. She’d picked up every word; her enhanced sense of hearing able to distinguish between every ponderous syllable with ease, even though the words hadn’t been directed at young mutant. While Laura didn’t ask for a continuation or indeed clarification, she did step a little closer. The thin smile that rose upon the other’s mouth caused X-23 to tense a little – there was something mildly unnerving about a smiling witch, or so Laura thought, especially after what she’d just witnessed – an infection of mystical nature causing veins to bulge and skin to look rotten.

Then, three words were spoken that caused her to raise a single eyebrow. ’It’s not a trap.’ It certainly seemed like one, and surely the wound inflicted was testament enough to that. “It seemed like it was a trap.” When the magic user stretched out her hand once more, Laura instinctively followed it, reaching out as if to snatch it back from the wall. Did the scarlet-clad consult not remember what had happened moments before? Had the mystic affliction affected her brain? However, before her fingers could close about the woman’s wrist, the wall itself seemed to disintegrate, a ripple effect washing over it.

Jumping back, more than a little surprised, Laura’s eyes narrowed and, there and then, she came to the firm conclusion that she didn’t like magic. Not one bit. It was far too unpredictable, far too raw. It confused what she knew to be true and seemed untied to any specific being, a force in and of itself that others could tamper with but not fully control. And that made X-23 feel incredibly uneasy. She liked absolutes, and as her afternoon with the former Avenger had proven thus far, magic did not work in absolutes.

Refocusing in the large gap that had appeared in the wall she’d been stood at – meters wide and many feet tall – she noted a rotten door beyond; and old relic that looked barely capable of holding its own weight. However, much as she wanted to stare at it and take in its every detail, she couldn’t – finding it difficult to even look at a spot close to the door. She frowned. From what she could recall, not one map of the building had shown the existence of such a room, and nor had anyone known of it. It seemed implausible to believe that everyone in the facility could have overlooked its presence.

But when Wanda spoke again, it became less surprising. A powerful spell, as seemed to be a common explanation, which warped perception. Narrowing her brow, Laura rolled her shoulders. It did, at least, explain why her nose had found it so difficult to focus. If the stench was coming from beyond that door, the line of enchanted ash before it must have warped it somehow.

The witch stepped forward and X-23 followed close behind, a snarl curling her lip the closer they got. She made no sound, but every muscle in her body was tense, on fire, as she was ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice – not that she knew what she’d be springing against. If events thus far meant anything, it would likely not be anything much. On reaching the ash, the Scarlet Witch used her foot to break the line, and suddenly, the smell Laura had such a hard time pin-pointing flooded her senses, and her nose wrinkled obviously.

“It’s in there,” she stated, rather boldly, despite the fact anyone could have worked out similar even without her enhanced senses. “That’s where the scent leads.” She figured perhaps confirmation would be positive. At the mystics suggestion of finishing things, the claws upon Laura’s right hand unsheathed themselves from her forearm, and when the door was thrown open, she stepped quickly forward…

Into what looked like a store room.

She narrowed her eyes, flicking them about the space. “It doesn’t look like there is anything in here.”

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Tag: Wanda Maximoff
Notes: I hope this gives you enough to work with! <3 I can have her wander around the space if you need me to! ~

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[attr="class","post2"]The storeroom confused Wanda's senses. Whatever source of demonic powers lay within had steeped there for years unmolested. The air felt like a thick soup of energies and the Scarlet Witch floundered while she walked through it. She was surprised that the line of mystic ash had been able to put a disguising stopper on the malicious will that it hid; that truly told of how powerful the confounding charm had been. Wanda thought about telling X-23 to be especially cautious, but expected she knew to do so already and being instructed would only grate on her nonexistent patience.

"Don't touch anything," Wanda chose to suggest. That wasn't rightly obvious, at least, and bore saying. She moved slowly into the center of the room. Crates, boxes and chests were piled in the room; even a few pieces of furniture covered in faded sheets were present. Wanda turned slowly on the spot, her eyes narrow, searching for something more prominent in the tide of energy pressing no her magical awareness. She pointedly ignored the growing discomfort in her cursed hand, or the realization that the strength of the gauntlet of runes she'd used to suppress it was fast waning.

You were foolish to come here, a voice whispered through the room; brittle wind on dead leaves. Wanda was grateful it wasn't his voice.

The Scarlet Witch scowled. The demon was not only aware of them, but confident enough to interact plainly, without subterfuge. There was good and bad in that. It likely wouldn't be so sure of itself without reason, which promised power and the willingness to use it. But this way Wanda and X-23 didn't have to waste more time searching for it; time that the dark magic in her hand would only worsen with. Even more foolish to fall for my little trick, it said and laughed with a sound like a rattlesnake's tail. Wanda grit her teeth, because it was right and she scorned herself for the umpteenth time.

Well? it asked. What is the little witch and her untrained pet waiting for? Wind that smelled foul and sour moved through the room, tousling sheets and throwing up dust. Come. In. The order did away with any amusement on the demon's part. It was dark and unfiltered. One sheet fell aside to reveal an ornate mirror propped against the wall. The surface of the reflective glass sparked with flame and boiled. The door to the storeroom slammed shut and a primal, vicious force pulled on Wanda and X-23, dragging them like a magnet to the mirror and through it to... beyond.

The Scarlet Witch surveyed the new venue. It was dark and moist and humid, like a cave. The stalactites and stalagmites that ringed the open ground she stood on reinforced this. Strange light moved around the dark edges of the area like a fire from afar off rolling through a veil of inky miasma. Welcome to my little slice of hell, the demon said smugly. Wanda's caution turned to controlled fury. She looked at X-23 and said, quietly, "Well, this will be over swiftly, one way or another."

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[attr="class","post2"]Laura cast a sharp glance the Scarlet Witch’s way, eyes narrowed at the order she gave – though as instructed, laid her hands upon nothing. Instead, she merely wandered about the small room, sniffing at shelves and piles of unused goods, checking for any hint of a clue that might lead to the source of the dark energy they had but moments before experienced. Her hackles were raised, and she felt more uncomfortable than perhaps she ever had; not that she would let it show. She’d spent a lifetime being taught how to ignore, corral or hide her emotions. Not even magic could make her forget that.

A whisper, like a fleeting breeze, caught X-23’s attention, nearly causing her to jump despite her alerted state and she spun on the spot, looking for the source, ready to pounce and attack. All she saw, however, was the Scarlet Witch, looking similarly perturbed. Wanda didn’t have to say anything for her to realize it belonged to whatever dark spirit had cursed the academy. Laura’s lips curled, but still, nothing emerged – no face to the voice. Still, of one thing the pair could be sure; the creature no longer wished to hide. They had found it, and it wasn’t running. Indeed, it taunted them, causing X-23’s lips to further curl.

She winced as her senses were momentarily overwhelmed as a stronger gust blew through the room, and but seconds later, the door behind them slammed shut. Then, a mirror was revealed, and the glass surface warped and bubbled, as if liquid mercury, before Laura and her magical guide were tugged toward it. Flailing as her feet left her, the mutant dug her metallic claws into the ground beneath her, scoring marks into the flooring, but it wasn’t enough to halt her movement – and soon enough she had been dragged beyond, landing on her knees.

Eyes wide, she looked about their new surroundings, slowly pushing herself to her feet. What she’d just witnessed – experienced – was beyond anything she could possibly have dreamed. There was a chance she still was, though the pain in her knuckles suggested otherwise. Dreams involving the use of her claws always woke her.

Stood in what looked like a cave, lined with stalactites and stalagmites, the moist rocky walls reflected a distant light, flickering and waning, and a strange shadow – inky and black – warped their sight should they try to look too far. When the voice sounded again – it was clearer than before, louder now that they were in its lair no doubt. Wanda’s statement echoed around the space they found themselves in, and Laura merely nodded, more focussed on what was about them rather than on her partner.

At first, nothing seemed present- but then something caught her eye, a shadow disgorging from the others, approaching Wanda and Laura slowly, with strange, jolted movements. “There,” she raised a hand and pointed, eyes narrowed as the barer of the voice slithered into view – the mere sight alone threatening to turn Laura’s stomach. As it moved into the light, its features became clear; bearing the appearance of a living oil slick, pitch black, shiny and almost liquid, somehow keeping its shape despite its odd consistency. Across the surface of the creature, faces rippled and formed, all twisted in agony, as if people within were trying to break free from the creature, from the slick that bound them.

Upon seeing it had physical form, Laura was assured she could hurl herself at it – and did so.
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Tag: Wanda Maximoff
Notes: Laura so talkative....not~

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[attr="class","post2"]Ironically, in that moment, X-23's senses were the surer of the two. Magic encapsulated Wanda, and no normal magic. Dark, sticky, charred of the most deeply perverted sort. They were in an entire new world, some pocket of the demon's design; his own chamber in the hellscape of someone- something else. The Scarlet Witch was disconcerted. She was a foreigner here, and mystic lairs, virtuous and especially evil, had rules to unseat the unwanted at their heart. The very earth around them was the demon's will given form - hate and a greasy will made into substance. She shunted the vile forces from her, yet again falling back on one of the rudimentary lessons in witchcraft that Agatha had schooled her in. That which overwhelmed her faded, mundane senses reasserting themselves over the magical ones that'd superseded them a moment before.

But that didn't change the fact she'd spent precious moments distracted. When Wanda was settled again, X-23 already was bending her focus onto a patch of the greater shadow ahead of them. From the gloom a what looked like a mass of tormented forms, covered in ink, fused together into a single, sentient abomination. The Scarlet Witch's mind flew through the pages of weathered tomes she'd spent years using as leisure reading material. Flitting through descriptions, names and details that she worked to remember as effortlessly as Iron Man could recite the periodic table of elements. She didn't always meet the same level of success, but she was long since a novice.

In the midst of Wanda's remembering she noticed X-23 move as quick as her instinct. "Wait-" the Scarlet Witch began, but she knew that her ally was too quick to respond to a warning, or too possessed by her rage and purpose. Wanda gestured with crooked fingers at X-23's back a breath before she met her foe. Crimson/pink light in faint wisps caught the younger woman in midair, tethered to the sphere that'd flourished beneath the sorceress' curled digits. X-23 flung backwards and was released - Wanda trusted her to be able to handle the landing. The instant the spell was finished, the Scarlet Witch flinched involuntarily, bowing slightly forward over the hand she had pressed against her.

Every enchantment you weave leeches power from your little bangle. So come, unleash your fury upon me, little witch. Let the price be your soul.

Wanda cast a fierce glare through strands of hair that'd fallen in her face at the demon. He was right. Gracious Hecate, he was right. Such a simple hex - to suspend the momentum X-23 had manged herself, then redirect it to repulse her - but Wanda felt the strength of her wards fade in equal portion. Even that little amount she would miss. But first it is my turn. The Scarlet Witch tensed. Nothing about the demon moved, but from the darkness that lurked on the fringes of the cavern the shape of a giant hand (the same shape, but greatly enlarged, than that was on the doorway before) lashed out, talons ready, sweeping to try to connect with both women in one assault. Wanda threw herself sideways, falling back on countless sparring lessons with Captain America to roll below the demonic limb as it passed.

Still, that much sudden motion jarred her cursed hand and made cold sweat break out on her face. The Scarlet Witch glanced to X-23. "You cannot touch him," she said. "Or you'll be worse off than me. It's a creature of pestilence, and not just the physical kind." Wanda winced again at her hand's worsening. "Or," she said, tapering off, eyes staring at the demon that stuttered nearer at a smug pace, "perhaps you can." Time was of the essence. They were both stuck there at the demon's desire until he was vanquished, and Wanda was doomed if he lived. To succeed, she may have to do something drastic. Something that would end with her demise as easily as it could their success. She hadn't felt so much like a superhero in a long, long time.

Wanda struggled to her feet and locked eyes with X-23, trying to convey the gravity of the situation with everything she had. "I trust you know how to use those claws. You'll only have a small window-" she stopped to leap aside from another shadowy arm that slashed, a living whip, from the wall and cracked the stone she'd just been standing on "-and you have to make the most of it." The Scarlet Witch made complex flicks and curls of her fingers. Another hex sphere sputtered in the air, against her palm. "Forget what I said before." Wanda bared her teeth and gave a strangled cry that hinted at the difficulty of her actions. The sphere flashed and the symbols that had ringed her wrist flared on the ground in a circle around X-23. They faded, rimming her in their light.

"You can touch him," she said. Her voice was faraway and a whisper. Wanda's legs went weak and she crumpled onto the cavern ground, hitting her side so that she could see X-23's attack on the demon through her delirium. Beneath the sleeve of her coat, the diseased skin spread, and here where curses were more literal, where magic was visible, a darkness started curling up off of her in billowing smoke.