( —it's not dancing-dancing. it's vague, led more by wanda than david despite her shrug, and though it's not precisely energetic — in part thanks to the music — wanda's enthusiasm is contagious despite david's non-starter of a spin. in my culture, she says, and david's gaze flickers over her as he, too, remembers that plaza in wanda's mind. the music and the people that david had interrupted with something of his own. (hard to call any of that anything to do with his culture, though. he doesn't even know where he'd first heard that song.)
the glance slides into something of a question when she mentions a rave, david imagining the kind where addresses were mentioned only by vague location, followed by vague instructions, followed by abandoned warehouses in industrial estates and gas stations. or ones you only went to if you knew someone who knew someone, who'd give you a phone number to call, and then there'd be a recorded message with the address.
it'd never been his scene. too many people. too much noise. )
I haven't thought about it. ( it's not quite right to say he'll listen to anything, but he wouldn't call himself fussy even if there's an element of being particular about it. interesting works, something with a good bass line, or percussion; something that a melody that doesn't grate. psychedelic, in some respects, but not in the way that most people mean it. surreal, fuzzy, looping—
—but disco's fine, too. new wave, like the band wanda had played earlier.
a little bit of a lopsided, acknowledging smile— ) —Not usually anything they play at raves.
( wanda hadn't been sold on the idea of the rave at first, but the first time she had gone, just out of curiosity, had made her more enthused to go the rest of the times it'd take place. to anyone else, it would feel foolish to try and explain, the kind of feeling she got from it, how everything was at peace and her mind was just swimming with the flow, instead of this burden of listening and picking up on things. )
This one was different. It wasn't about the music.
( but, chances are she won't encounter much of a calming, similar experience again. it's been months, anyway, and so much more has happened in the diadem since that would make it kind of reasonable why no one would want to put up a rave again. but still.
david doesn't give her much of a clear answer, haven't thought about it, again. as the song comes to its end, wanda lets herself hang from his hands, weighing down, and turning around him, if only to let herself sit back down on the couch, letting go of his hands. one song, she had asked, and that's enough as is. a thought comes to mind, as she considers him. )
Have you been? To raves? Concerts, or anything like that?
( wanda knows he was institutionalized for several years, but before then, perhaps? (he doesn't look much the type, though, to be fair.) wanda, for all that she lacked because of the situation in sokovia, was still able to enjoy live music, from neighbors and local musicians coming together during times of respite. sokovia wasn't always without things, even if they certainly didn't have frosted flakes.
her questions, and the ones that follow, are not meant to judge him, rather than they are a way of trying to assert who exactly david is, beyond what she already knows. )
(it wasn't about the music. he shoots her a look, head canting to one side. are raves usually about the music? his expression says he doesn't think they are, and the quirk of his mouth confirms that even before he adds, ) That's a diplomatic way of saying it was about the, ( he lifts a hand and gestures with a hand, half-hearted finger quotes. ) 'Atmosphere'.
—House parties mostly. ( parties in a loose, vague sense. how loose and vague depends on when they're talking about. he knows he's mentioned, in unspecific terms, his commune, but he's made a point of avoiding details, of not elaborating on what that was like. ) The kind where music adds ambience, but no-one's really there for it. It's more a flavour thing.
( she sits, and he makes his way over to the collection of cassettes homed near the stereo, and he starts to flick through them one by one, trying to find something that'll help illustrate his point. it'd be easier, of course, if panorama wasn't such a hodge-podge of things and, as plastic slides against wood, he continues, ) My family listened to all sorts. Fifties, sixties, seventies. I listened to some eighties, like the band you played earlier. I never liked anything that was too—. ( he flicks a hand in the direction of his head and refrains from elaborating further. instead, he glances back over his shoulder at wanda. ) Live music didn't really work for me. Concerts and gigs and whatever.
( a beat; a concession— ) —Probably went to one or two with Amy. ( and hated it, he doesn't add. ) And piano recitals.
( wanda's city pop continues, and david decides for now not to change out. what does he do for fun? what a question. he turns to face her, placing his hands on the top of the unit behind him. )
My— The people I lived with before, we would spend evenings together. Play games, have like... A book club once a week. Tell stories, enjoy each other's company. I meditate, sometimes. Nothing wild or crazy. Things were a lot for a while, so I've been trying to enjoy the simpler things.
( she throws right back, easily and comfortably, leaning back on the couch as he turns to the collection of cassettes. one day she should try and organize her collection, label it properly, maybe categorize it based on the genre. a project for the future, perhaps, now that her moving is pretty much sorted. wanda leans against the arm of the couch, trying to catch what he's flicking through, then up at him when he does glance over his shoulder. )
Piano recitals?
( —how random. anyway, she kind of gets a better picture now, based on david's whole... thing, the schizophrenia probably made it a pain to deal with music that didn't 'work' for him.
she leans back once he turns proper. spend evening together, plays games, a book club (why did he hesitate?), enjoy each other's company. very kind of quaint, as far as 'fun' is concerned, but wanda can see how something like that can be both pleasant and enriching. it makes even more sense, when he bookends it by saying that he's trying to enjoy the simpler things, considering how everything a lot for a while. for wanda, it's more about making up for the fact that she didn't have many lived experiences herself; try them once, sort of thing, and if she likes it enough she'll try them again. )
We can do things like that if you want. If it helps. ( ? anyway, as if providing an explanation, ) I like to try things out once at least, especially here. There's a lot of time to kill, and other than — work, it's not like I have to answer to anyone. (anymore. she tilts her head. ) My brother was the extrovert, anyway.
( and although she's been trying to be a little more of what pietro always tried to encourage her to be, it's not exactly fun all the time, or easy.
she sits back, an amused expression on her face, teasing— )
( her echo of his words earns a huff of a laugh and he steps away from the wooden unit with the stereo on it to make his way to the sofa and drop himself next to her. his tone's a little wry when he leans into her briefly, answering, )Sure, we can go with that.
( he straightens when she asks about the piano recitals, explaining— ) Amy played. We had a piano in the house. My mom tried to teach me too, but I didn't take to it. I did play soccer as a kid, though.
( and then she leans back. her offer, the we can is nice. sweet. it's not enough to make him feel bad about the misrepresentation, the lack of complete transparency about what he'd been up to before awakening in the scrapyard — all that she knows is all that she needs to know, and it's not as if any of it's a lie. he knows how people interpret the enlightenment house. he knows how it comes across. wanda's said she won't judge, but that doesn't mean he needs to test her.
he pulls his legs up to sit cross-legged. ) That's why I asked if you like games. ( partly, anyway. ) But I don't know how well a book club will work if it's just the two of us. ( quizzical, fleeting— ) A book pair? (nah. another slight, subtle lean towards her, faintly (jokingly) accusatory— ) I am older than you. You're like, a baby.
( punctuated by a breath of a pause. )
—Amy wasn't an extrovert, but she had more friends than I did. My friend, Lenny, though, she could convince you to do anything. Of anything, if she put her mind to it.
Funny. ( she says, softly, but doesn't elaborate, at david's explanation of the piano, at his playing soccer. her mom took on the task of teaching the twins piano when they were young, as well as having art projects at home. suppose that's what all moms try to do, ultimately, for their kids— she tries to imagine david playing soccer. when he leans in again, after sitting cross-legged and tries to figure out the logistics of a book-club-for-two and seems to set the idea aside, wanda puts her hand to his shoulder. it's almost like she felt the (joking) accusation incoming. ) I'm not.
( a baby. twenty-six is a commendable amount of years to have lived, considering her circumstances.
she does leave her hand on his shoulder, having gone from an attempt to shove him away to just a warm, casual point of connection between them. there's amy, whom he's mentioned before, wanda recognizes as his sister, and then there's lenny. wanda thinks it's the first time he's mentioned his friend. )
Is she one of those people who are afraid of you?
( it doesn't sound like it, with the way he talks of lenny, albeit very simply and without much detail. a quiet twisting of her lips, figuring she's answered her own question herself, before, ) Do you miss them? Your sister? Lenny?
Lenny? No. We met—. ( when? ) Years ago. ( he knows his memories on that are a mess, a mass of what's true, what farouk made him think and believe, but regardless of the specifics, it's been him and lenny for longer than it's been him and anyone else. ) She knows who I am. ( it's quick, hurried, certain enough that it's almost dismissive; lenny doesn't question him, not like that. she's not afraid of him (even if she should be—) (not that he would). )
Of course I miss her. Them. But Amy—. ( the pause is abrupt, indecisive. ) She's gone. Whatever this place can do, if it can bring back people who are dead, take them from before they die, it's not — I don't want her here.
( it's not, specifically, that. it's not that he doesn't think they could make some kind of a life here if she did turn up, but it wouldn't be her. it wouldn't be her and ben, the life they'd planned out together. farouk had destroyed her in much the same way he'd ensured david's life was a ruin, and he doesn't want that for her — to either come here and remember what'd happened to her, to ben; or to come here and have that waiting for her. or — not, as it were. but that amy wouldn't be his amy, so—.
(it circles back to the question wanda had answered earlier, the one he'd dodged at first and then answered in a roundabout way, his I've figured it out.) )
—Lenny would like this place. ( a flicker of consideration, a glance up to the ceiling; a correction— ) The Blocks, not the Sanctum. Too many cameras. Too many, ( he clicks his tongue. ) Enforcers. But she's got someone, and being away from her would upset her, so—.
It doesn't matter. ( decisive, a firm conclusion, even if he doesn't say in what way it doesn't matter. he doesn't shrug her off, but he does turn to her as much as the sofa allows. intense, intent— ) I told you, I'm not in a hurry. I miss them, but that doesn't mean I can't be happy here, too.
( david doesn't want them here, and wanda wonders about that. is it partly because of what this place is, how much more complicated it would be, to have loved ones here to look after? to worry about? wanda isn't stupid; she recognizes that a lot about david is selfish. didn't he impose this idea of moving in with her, without even asking? just assuming he could make it be and he wouldn't have to explain? but she also sees, beyond the selfishness, another side of him. she can't quite quantify what it is, but it's lonely.
and lonely gives way to many other aspects of oneself.
it doesn't matter, and though david doesn't shrug her off, wanda does move her hand away. as he turns to her, intense and intent, wanda sits sideways, to face him, and grabs hold of his hand. )
I'm not asking because I'm trying to catch if you really meant it about not being in a hurry to leave. ( turning his palm up and over, she glances down, at the lines on his palm; one hand holds his, lightly, and the other she uses to draw over the lines—the heart line (ambiguous, between selfish and falls for easily), the head line (inconsistencies), the life line (cautious), the fate line (broken, different directions). ) I know what you said, and I believe you. I trust you.
( it's really that simple. this much, it's just learning about him, leaving open, perhaps, the ability for him to talk about those he misses and whatever he wants with her.
she moves his hand so that it's cupped, and she counts the mounts on his palm, under his fingers. it's fine — she's not actually doing a reading proper. instead, wanda opts to just hold his hand in hers. )
I'll keep an ear out for any Amys or Lennys, if they ever show up. ( and, of course— ) And keep my distance if a Farouk ever does show up, too. You'll be the first to know.
( a quiet smile follows, a tilt of her head, eyes meeting his. )
( she says she'll keep an ear out and reflexively, he shakes his head. he doesn't mean it as a don't, more a that's an unnecessary before he states, ) I'll hear them. ( self-assured and certain. he doesn't know that, not really — he still hasn't tested the full extent of what he can and can't do — but he's sure in spite of that.
and so that's where he leaves it, allowing wanda to take his hand in hers. he doesn't think she'd been lying, or had been trying to trick him, he'd just wanted to be clear. make sure she knew his perspective on the matter. trust is — well, it's not quite that it's challenging, per se, but he knows how easily it can be broken; he knows, too, how he prefers to curate it. he knows that not having easy access to that simple solution can make things — annoying, even if wanda has something of a cheat sheet in being able to guess at his feelings.
he does, quietly, acknowledge that— ) Not Farouk. He can hide himself. (he can't hide the twist of bitterness in that, the distaste. it's short-lived, brief. ) But I don't want to talk about them, not Farouk, not Amy, not Lenny. (we'll look after each other. ) What do you do for fun? What do you want to do? There's a whole world out there. ( his gaze flickers towards the window as if for emphasis. ) Don't lie to me and tell me you haven't been playing it safe.
( don't call it a cheat sheet just because you can't do it—
wanda moves past the subject because david says that he doesn't want to talk about them, not any of them. that he'll hear should amy or lenny arrive, but that farouk will be much more difficult to intercept. her cheat sheet does help in picking up that short-lived twist of bitterness, which is why she lets it be.
david glances out the window, and it makes wanda — think. )
I hitchhike. I get to meet a bunch of people that way. ( that can't really just be it. she thinks about it for a bit longer, finally letting go of his hand, and bringing up her legs on the couch, too; feet up on the cushion, knees bent, she hugs her legs close as she presses her side against the couch. ) Sometimes, I run into raiders—
( she pauses. hm. she owes henry a car window... well, if he hasn't asked since... )
I keep busy with work, and I try solving crossword puzzles with the magazines at work. I never get them right. ( for a moment, she releases her arms from around her legs, and fidgets with her fingers, with her sleeves, rings. ) There's someone I work with. We're — scouting out how easy it'd be to... (you know) —in the Sanctum.
( anyway! that's not super important, unless david wants to focus on it. )
I want to get a television. I have a stash of video tapes at work that I want to see. Sitcoms, mostly. Some movies. So, ( she motions with her hands, thumbs and pointer fingers stretched out, depicting a semblance of a rectangle ) it needs to have the VHS part.
( she's mentioned the hitchhiking before and david hadn't thought much of it. in and of itself, it's something that's not safe, but it's different for someone who can do what wanda can do, even if there's no assurance that whoever she gets into a car with can't do the same or more. but, but, her addition of 'I get to meet—' gives him pause, and david, silently, looks to her, his head tilted to one side as he interrupts her answer to request, )What?
( it overlaps with the rest of what she says, the thing about sometimes meeting raiders, and the way she doesn't linger on that all but confirms to david that he'd been correct in his assertion the night previous that they're nothing to worry about. assholes with guns, maybe, who get off on scaring people. she can handle them, he can handle them.
—but he does linger on that unfinished remark, precisely because it is unfinished. ordinarily, it'd be different. he wouldn't need to. the thought would be there, it'd accompany the utterance, and david would be able to decide if he wanted to pursue it or if he wanted to leave it. as it stands, it just comes across as if it's something wanda's not fully committed to, or like she thinks david will judge her. ) —How easy it'll be to what?
( it's more interesting than the idea of watching vhs. he's been there, done that. movie afternoons at clockworks, inoffensive things that wouldn't upset any of them. musicals. animations. dancing in the rain, bedknobs and broomsticks. rated universal, rated parental guidance. he doesn't think that's what wanda will like necessarily, it's just what it puts him in mind of. he almost tells her that they don't need a tv.
(lenny had agreed.)
he taps his fingers against his knees, a short one-two. ) What sitcoms?
( his what? is not going to get an answer, because having to explain what this whole hitchhiking situation is for her, ever since her arrival here, is going to be a too-long story that she doesn't think is very interesting. wanda can't drive her motorcycle well enough, out into the fringes, (isn't comfortable with it) so she gets to meet people who may potentially be the ones to give her a ride should she ever need it, want to. that's how she's met a lot of the people she considers acquaintances, friends—
but they have a car now, so maybe those days are behind her.
wanda presses her feet, annoyingly, onto the side of one of his thighs. wanda is fully committed to the ventures that she has going on with a certain vampire friend of hers, so it's more likely that she'll think david will judge her. still very much in those early stages of friendship, wanting to appear cool but not too cool that you're untouchable, that kind of thing.
her expression pinches. )
How easy it'll be to break into places. ( said quickly, )Anyway, I have found Malcolm in the Middle. Also a few episodes of The Honeymooners, ( she's listing these off while counting on her fingers, almost as if she were to continue, he'll overlook her statement, (that is one of the reasons how she can afford this place) ) season 2 and season 5 of The Dick Van Dyke Show— ( she points at him, excitedly ) which is my favorite one.
(breaking into places isn't an answer. sure, on the surface, it's something, but it's not a why. some people break into places for the thrill of it, but more often there's a reason. sometimes it's to squat, but wanda has a place; sometimes, it's to intimidate; more often, it's to steal. it's to take something. sometimes that's money, sometimes that's things, sometimes it's something else entirely, but no-one breaks into somewhere to leave empty-handed.
he's not judging, not really — he'd gone along with her plan to sneak into silvia's store too quickly to really be able to comment — but he knows the consequences that can come from breaking into the wrong place at the wrong time. the reasons for it don't even matter, aren't important.
there's a lot in the way her expression tightens when he asks about it, the way she moves on, the press of her feet against his leg.
his attention drifts, away from her and towards the stereo. the cassette whirs each and every time the volume drops, when the recording-of-a-recording dips in and out. it reminds him of before.
a sharp glance back to her, expression bright. )
For what? Fun? The adrenaline rush? 'Cause you want to steal from people who have it better than you? ( he adjusts his weight to lean towards her without inadvertently pressing her feet deeper into his thigh. ) I know what you can do. It's not about how easy it is to break into anywhere. Everywhere's easy.
( so! )
—They used to show movies in the day room at Clockworks. TV shows were less frequent.
( of course david picks on it, because he likes to pull at threads of things that he happens to find fascinating. wanda isn't all too fussed, but still is; maybe it's the idea that she should probably, definitely?, keep it secret, lest her and astarion's ventures become a whole lot more difficult than they need to be. not to mention there's that judgement and disappointment she can see coming her way from others, like steve or erik...
in any case, almost dismissing his tangent about wanting to figure out the why, she says— )
That's why I need to find a TV with a VHS player. You'll like them. ( said with the confidence of someone who loves sitcoms and is about to show their friend something she considers precious, and will not take anything but this is awesome! as an answer— (it makes her feel nostalgic; pietro loved to tease her about her favorite sitcoms, pretending to be annoyed at her episode choices.)
then, a pause, her expression speaking volumes of someone who most definitely is debating saying something else.
(decidedly, david isn't like steve or erik.) )
It's an easy way to get money. I used to do it, with someone else, at the gambling dens. But, then that become tricky, and we were nearly found out one time. ( wanda's fledgling criminal days... ) Breaking in's easier. I use my powers, we steal a couple things, we get out with no one remembering we were there. ( she places her hands on her knees. ) The guy I work with—he figures out pawning the items off, so I don't worry about that. I get my share afterwards.
( then, she raises her right hand, pinky raised. )
( it's, well, considering panorama, oddly mundane. it's a means to make money, and she's self-conscious of it. how many people are there in the city who've made their existence completely honestly? too many people come and go for that. she swears him to secrecy regardless, and he eyes her for a moment before acquiescing. who'd he tell? it doesn't bother him what she does.
it does, though, explain a few things about the apartment, regardless of any impact he might have had. it makes him rethink, too, the way he'd assumed she was judging him back when they met for the first time at the motel and david had pretended like he was going to get a job and pay his way for the room legitimately. it doesn't, of course, make him reconsider things enough to correct her, to set the record straight. )
Okay.
( it's easy agreement, accompanied by a loose lift of a shoulder before he leans forward, resting one hand on her knee for balance and hooking the pinky of his other hand around hers. )
I won't tell anyone how you make your money. But just because it's easier doesn't mean it's easy. Don't get cocky.
( it's not so much that wanda was judging him, so much as she still (then, now) has these thoughts in her head that using her powers is bad; that she shouldn't use it to mess with other people's minds, their memories, even if brief. so it drags over her like the dirtiest of secrets, does it make me a bad person?, constantly racking through her mind. when she had asked david, in their first meeting, if he had ever been told if that using his powers on others was a bad thing (somewhat loosely related to him getting a job), it hadn't been to judge or to force some kind of expectation of him.
genuinely, she had been wondering if this guilt she drags with her is fair for her to drag at all. (this is how bad habits start to get excused.)
even now, there's a little bit of that. of that guilt, of actually really enjoying the validation that david has brought into her life these past few days: we're powerful. why shouldn't they? why shouldn't she?
their pinkies hook together, an easy enough promise. his words aren't meant to chastise, but it still feels — somewhat like that. pietro used to steal before, use his speed to get medicine for the sick in novi grad, toys for the kids. she would tell him something similar, in an angry tone (you'll get shot—and then he was shot), but it's not the same as messing with people's heads. she glances away, momentarily, his hand warm on her knee. )
...I'm not. ( getting cocky. still, she gets her pinky, her hand, back to herself, presses it to her cheek. ) Maybe if — we worked together sometimes, on a few jobs, maybe— ( she's just plainly suggesting a team-up for crime. he seems understanding enough, and, maybe, through that, wanda could benefit in learning from him? their powers? ) It'd be less risky.
( he doesn't seem to be against crime, either way, so. )
I know others have strong feelings about stealing, ( but that's not what what makes her feel bad about the whole thing. she elaborates, quickly enough, ) but more than that — I don't want to screw up and hurt others.
( the idea of it, what she's suggesting, is — fine, mostly. it's not who he thinks of himself as, not these days. someone that steals. it's not that david has lines, as such — he's very good at justifying to himself what he does in terms of it needing to be done, and so wherever he might pretend there are boundaries, they're malleable and moveable.
not paying for a room in a motel? fine, because he needs (needed) somewhere to live, and rooms were going spare. it wasn't hurting anyone. convincing someone here, someone there to give him a discount? he doesn't have a job, and they're still getting something for it. beggars might not be choosers, but—. )
I care. (others have strong feelings. it's not like he doesn't have a history of it, but that was different, that wasn't him.
—but even so, it's hard to call his feelings on it strong. (it's complicated.) )
I— Before, I stole a lot. Lied. Cheated. It didn't matter who from, didn't matter what it was, just as long as I got what I wanted, needed at the end of it. People got hurt. You mentioned gambling dens? Fine. ( haves over have nots. people who've got what they've got by using other people. ) Gangs. Runners, whatever. But I don't hurt people.
( unless they deserve it, but he and wanda will cross that bridge when they get to it. )
( david does have a roundabout way of talking about things. i care, for a moment, makes her think that though he doesn't mind what she's admitted to doing, that he does, in fact, have some lines that he'll draw. but then he continues, admitting, before; wanda figures, it's when he used drugs, when he wasn't clean. it sounds almost like he's putting her down easy, this one thing he won't do, even if he won't tell and won't judge.
then: the gambling dens, fine. )
The Pavillion has a lot of them. (gambling dens. she lets her hands settle down to hold onto her ankles, the in-between of her socks and trousers. wanda gets what he means: it's not about hurting others, but gambling dens are pretty corrupt themselves. her jobs with astarion were mostly in stealing from cults, shady people. but david is right to assume that just because it's easier, it doesn't mean it's easy. there could always be consequences, and attempting the same game plan in the sanctum might lead to negative results. ) It's about stealing, ( "sharing the wealth", as astarion has put it before. ) not about hurting others.
( so, that's something they can agree with.
wanda fidgets, though, fingers curling into the denim of her trousers— )
—it's not that I thought you would tell. ( this is about the pinky promise; a clarification. ) There are people here I don't want to disappoint. It's still lying, but I don't want to risk it.
( conflicted feelings, between wanting to be good and keeping to promises she made before, and not wanting to lose face with others that she's grown close to. )
( he could ask if whoever's she's talking about would ask, point out that it's not quite lying if the question isn't there and she doesn't actively deny it, but that'd open david up to questions — what is he willing to obfuscate, talk in circles around, not quite elaborate on. syd'd had her issues with that, the rest of D3'd had their issues with that, even if david had done it in an attempt to prevent farouk gaining the upper-hand; even if it'd been because the other syd, the one that'd lied to him, had said not to tell. so—.
he doesn't. it's not quite about asking for forgiveness over asking for permission, but there's certainly an element of it; more than that, though, is that once david's decided on something, he tends to be reluctant to change his mind, outside permission or agreement or no.
david doesn't know anyone else wanda knows, so it's all irrelevant to him, who she wants to impress, who she doesn't; as far as he's concerned with regards to her, it's about them. his world, often, is small like that.
he's still while she fidgets, the movements of her fingers in her denim drawing his attention, and he watches that rather than her as she speaks. it's a lack of certainty, but whether that's about him or about what she's been doing or what would happen if it became common knowledge, all he can do is guess.
she finishes and he looks back up to meet her eyes, expression neutral. )
I don't break promises and I don't like secrets, but as long as we're honest with each other, it's none of my business what you tell anyone else.
( david has mentioned something similar before, about not liking secrets. that honesty is important to him; it is to her, too, of course. she has no real option but to take whatever david tells her at face value, trusting that he'll be fair in return to her. there's a swell of something—the fact that he has to trust that she isn't keeping secrets from him, but in such a new whatever-this-is, there's nothing really that wanda could keep from him.
she smiles softly, the tension in her hands releasing, a teasing lilt to her voice, )
And a pinky promise is the most binding one.
( weirdly enough, it's one of these things that fall under the category of 'roommate house rules', learning and presenting limits and aspects that are expected to be respected.
speaking of not breaking promises and being honest with each other— )
I know you mentioned being careful about other mutants, but— You know about the meetings Charles puts together once in a while, right? Will you go to those?
Maybe. The next one, probably — I told him I'd go, and I think it'd be good to meet new people. I mean, I've met some of them, the other mutants, and they all... Seem to have this idea about what being a mutant means. That— Charles's school. Community's important, I get that, but... They've been lucky. Whatever else has happened on their world's, they've been fortunate to have who and what they've got.
( he hadn't missed the way that logan's demeanour had changed as soon as he'd mentioned charles. he hadn't missed, either, the note of expectancy around it, the way that he'd seemed to expect david holding a certain opinion of charles. he — charles — had seemed nice enough, well-meaning enough, but ultimately idealistic in a way that didn't and doesn't align with david's experiences — recruiting children to a school, holding conversations with their parents, explaining whatever.
david shifts his weight and unfolds his legs, standing and making his way first back to the coffee table to grab a strawberry, and then back to the cassettes. he picks one at random, unlabelled, and he rotates it in his hands as if trying to guess as to what's on either side. ultimately, he has no clue, and he hits stop and eject on the stereo, not bothering to rewind the cassette that's currently playing, before popping this one in. a click-thunk of plastic, and the cassette starts playing more loudly than david expects, and he winces, the expression involuntary before he adjusts the volume.
he looks back towards her. )
—A lot of mutants I've met like to put each other in boxes, and I don't care for that.
(they've been lucky, another statement that she agrees with. it's nice, really, scott's concept of 'community' that they had talked about initially, even before he ever knew she had powers. then there was charles, his very idealistic take, and erik—
well, wanda considers erik different. a little more cynical, closer to how she feels about life at large. their compatibility feels like it goes beyond the whole concept of 'mutants', considering especially that wanda isn't. wanda's mouth thins, wondering who else he has met, really, and turns to sit properly as he stands anew to change the cassette (pleased, too, that he's eating more fruits). )
Who else did you meet? Erik?
( then, a new cassette, and a song plays, some live recording—raw and muffled, sounds of cheers along with the music. it's loud for her, too, and she glances up at the ceiling, wonders about whether they'll get complaints?, when david adjusts the volume.
she can't really make out the words of the song. )
If it helps, not everyone who goes to the meetings are mutants. ( she shrugs against the couch. ) We could scope it out. ( said, almost like a question, but it's not like she thinks that david needs someone to go with. ) You've never heard of Charles's school before, back home?
(who's erik? the question's there in his expression, quizzical and puzzled, though he doesn't ask it, only offers— ) Logan.
( all else being equal, david wouldn't say he likes logan, but given the choice between logan and scott, he'd pick logan. it's not that he's nicer or more pleasant, but he's easier to read. straight-forward in a way that makes things simple. he's not condescending. there'd been no bullshit about gifted schools, no circling around what he meant versus what he was saying, no evasiveness. no hamfisted attempts to force david down a route he was uninterested in built on a guise of 'help and support', all whilst not bothering to ask what david might want.
david isn't sure if it helps or not that not everyone who attends is a mutant; he thinks there's a chance that mutant is just the term that handful of earths use for what amounts to the same thing in other worlds, that the differences are semantic and not-functional, that what it means in the long run, for people like him and people like wanda, with powers that scare others, is negligible.
what they are doesn't matter; it's what they can do.
he tilts his head and eyes her, lips pressing into a line that's a non-verbal shrug of sorts. ) Sure. ( quick, agreement that's mostly non-committal; there's no date for the next meeting, so—. there's time for the both of them to change their minds. )
It's not that I haven't heard of it, it doesn't exist. We had — Summerland for a while, but that's gone, and it wasn't a school. They weren't finding kids and recruiting them. They weren't teaching them. They—. It's not the same. Where I'm from, people who are different just get to live with that label.
( uttered with a thread of agitation, one that sits just below the surface of his words. it's not necessarily the sort of thing that's evident outwardly, except for the lack of being settled, the animation of his expression, but wanda being wanda will likely pick up on the rest of it, the irritation, the hurt.
( not erik, but logan. ) Oh, I've met him before. ( but so long ago, maybe even briefly caught a glimpse of him at the last meeting. she doesn't really have anything to say about the guy that would otherwise add anything meaningful, so— ) Erik's the mutant I've talked with the most. ( a pause. ) Other than you, now, I guess. He's also... ( okay, this ends kind of lamely, ) European.
( ? shut up.
summerland, though, again, bring in the idea that charles's school doesn't exist in david's world. it doesn't exist in wanda's, either, even if a lot of elements about their world (from what erik has told her) are so strangely parallel to the history of her own. the same scars and tragedies in europe that she's familiar with, same language for these traditions that they got to celebrate briefly during the winter—
it's not a question; she does get it. a spike of irritation, hurt; smashing cymbals loud and unfettered. wanda's quiet, resists the urge to tell him it's okay, feeling what he does, that summerland isn't here, those people. it paints some more of the picture that is david and his experiences.
instead, ) I do. ( get it. he wouldn't even need to read her mind to know that she means it.
still, that eruption of agitation sits under her skin, crawling uncomfortably. she can't just sit, which is why she stands on the couch, takes a few steps on and around it (it's a much better couch to what it was before david 'changed' it), pushing some distance between them as if that much is going to help lessen what she feels him feeling. arms crossed, one hand up on her chin, thoughtful, she pauses, feet sinking on the cushions, then turns to face him. )
...what do you think of Charles? I think he means well.
(he's also european is such a non-sequitur of an explanation that it cuts through some of david's thoughts, the busy-ness of his feelings, the lingering bitterness over all them — syd, cary, melanie, how easily they'd fallen under farouk's spell. he blinks, then, a little startled, unsure of what to do with european, other than give wanda a slow, questioning cant of his head.
he doesn't know why she moves so abruptly from the couch, not until he takes a minute to think about it and realise: him. his mouth twists and, though wanda turns towards him, david looks away. he's going to have to work on that. emotions. he can't have, doesn't want her picking up on—. it's not that it's embarrassing, david barely knows what embarrassment is, it's that he's worked hard, tried deliberately to pull together a version of himself that, at least on the outside, is everything that they think he's not: calm. together.
(you can't reconcile— —well, they're wrong. the david they see, their perceive, isn't who he is.) )
—Lots of people mean well. ( blunter than he means it to be, followed almost immediately by an inhale of breath and a quick glance up, short-lived, reluctant, searching. he tempers the remark, himself, with— ) He seems like a good guy. Nice. Knows what he wants and has had the good fortune to be able to do it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2026-04-26 04:04 pm (UTC)the glance slides into something of a question when she mentions a rave, david imagining the kind where addresses were mentioned only by vague location, followed by vague instructions, followed by abandoned warehouses in industrial estates and gas stations. or ones you only went to if you knew someone who knew someone, who'd give you a phone number to call, and then there'd be a recorded message with the address.
it'd never been his scene. too many people. too much noise. )
I haven't thought about it. ( it's not quite right to say he'll listen to anything, but he wouldn't call himself fussy even if there's an element of being particular about it. interesting works, something with a good bass line, or percussion; something that a melody that doesn't grate. psychedelic, in some respects, but not in the way that most people mean it. surreal, fuzzy, looping—
—but disco's fine, too. new wave, like the band wanda had played earlier.
a little bit of a lopsided, acknowledging smile— ) —Not usually anything they play at raves.
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Date: 2026-04-26 04:49 pm (UTC)This one was different. It wasn't about the music.
( but, chances are she won't encounter much of a calming, similar experience again. it's been months, anyway, and so much more has happened in the diadem since that would make it kind of reasonable why no one would want to put up a rave again. but still.
david doesn't give her much of a clear answer, haven't thought about it, again. as the song comes to its end, wanda lets herself hang from his hands, weighing down, and turning around him, if only to let herself sit back down on the couch, letting go of his hands. one song, she had asked, and that's enough as is. a thought comes to mind, as she considers him. )
Have you been? To raves? Concerts, or anything like that?
( wanda knows he was institutionalized for several years, but before then, perhaps? (he doesn't look much the type, though, to be fair.) wanda, for all that she lacked because of the situation in sokovia, was still able to enjoy live music, from neighbors and local musicians coming together during times of respite. sokovia wasn't always without things, even if they certainly didn't have frosted flakes.
her questions, and the ones that follow, are not meant to judge him, rather than they are a way of trying to assert who exactly david is, beyond what she already knows. )
What do you do in your spare time? For fun?
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Date: 2026-04-26 05:35 pm (UTC)—House parties mostly. ( parties in a loose, vague sense. how loose and vague depends on when they're talking about. he knows he's mentioned, in unspecific terms, his commune, but he's made a point of avoiding details, of not elaborating on what that was like. ) The kind where music adds ambience, but no-one's really there for it. It's more a flavour thing.
( she sits, and he makes his way over to the collection of cassettes homed near the stereo, and he starts to flick through them one by one, trying to find something that'll help illustrate his point. it'd be easier, of course, if panorama wasn't such a hodge-podge of things and, as plastic slides against wood, he continues, ) My family listened to all sorts. Fifties, sixties, seventies. I listened to some eighties, like the band you played earlier. I never liked anything that was too—. ( he flicks a hand in the direction of his head and refrains from elaborating further. instead, he glances back over his shoulder at wanda. ) Live music didn't really work for me. Concerts and gigs and whatever.
( a beat; a concession— ) —Probably went to one or two with Amy. ( and hated it, he doesn't add. ) And piano recitals.
( wanda's city pop continues, and david decides for now not to change out. what does he do for fun? what a question. he turns to face her, placing his hands on the top of the unit behind him. )
My— The people I lived with before, we would spend evenings together. Play games, have like... A book club once a week. Tell stories, enjoy each other's company. I meditate, sometimes. Nothing wild or crazy. Things were a lot for a while, so I've been trying to enjoy the simpler things.
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Date: 2026-04-26 05:57 pm (UTC)( she throws right back, easily and comfortably, leaning back on the couch as he turns to the collection of cassettes. one day she should try and organize her collection, label it properly, maybe categorize it based on the genre. a project for the future, perhaps, now that her moving is pretty much sorted. wanda leans against the arm of the couch, trying to catch what he's flicking through, then up at him when he does glance over his shoulder. )
Piano recitals?
( —how random. anyway, she kind of gets a better picture now, based on david's whole... thing, the schizophrenia probably made it a pain to deal with music that didn't 'work' for him.
she leans back once he turns proper. spend evening together, plays games, a book club (why did he hesitate?), enjoy each other's company. very kind of quaint, as far as 'fun' is concerned, but wanda can see how something like that can be both pleasant and enriching. it makes even more sense, when he bookends it by saying that he's trying to enjoy the simpler things, considering how everything a lot for a while. for wanda, it's more about making up for the fact that she didn't have many lived experiences herself; try them once, sort of thing, and if she likes it enough she'll try them again. )
We can do things like that if you want. If it helps. ( ? anyway, as if providing an explanation, ) I like to try things out once at least, especially here. There's a lot of time to kill, and other than — work, it's not like I have to answer to anyone. ( anymore. she tilts her head. ) My brother was the extrovert, anyway.
( and although she's been trying to be a little more of what pietro always tried to encourage her to be, it's not exactly fun all the time, or easy.
she sits back, an amused expression on her face, teasing— )
That all makes you sound old and wise.
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Date: 2026-04-26 06:21 pm (UTC)( he straightens when she asks about the piano recitals, explaining— ) Amy played. We had a piano in the house. My mom tried to teach me too, but I didn't take to it. I did play soccer as a kid, though.
( and then she leans back. her offer, the we can is nice. sweet. it's not enough to make him feel bad about the misrepresentation, the lack of complete transparency about what he'd been up to before awakening in the scrapyard — all that she knows is all that she needs to know, and it's not as if any of it's a lie. he knows how people interpret the enlightenment house. he knows how it comes across. wanda's said she won't judge, but that doesn't mean he needs to test her.
he pulls his legs up to sit cross-legged. ) That's why I asked if you like games. ( partly, anyway. ) But I don't know how well a book club will work if it's just the two of us. ( quizzical, fleeting— ) A book pair? ( nah. another slight, subtle lean towards her, faintly (jokingly) accusatory— ) I am older than you. You're like, a baby.
( punctuated by a breath of a pause. )
—Amy wasn't an extrovert, but she had more friends than I did. My friend, Lenny, though, she could convince you to do anything. Of anything, if she put her mind to it.
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Date: 2026-04-26 06:39 pm (UTC)( a baby. twenty-six is a commendable amount of years to have lived, considering her circumstances.
she does leave her hand on his shoulder, having gone from an attempt to shove him away to just a warm, casual point of connection between them. there's amy, whom he's mentioned before, wanda recognizes as his sister, and then there's lenny. wanda thinks it's the first time he's mentioned his friend. )
Is she one of those people who are afraid of you?
( it doesn't sound like it, with the way he talks of lenny, albeit very simply and without much detail. a quiet twisting of her lips, figuring she's answered her own question herself, before, ) Do you miss them? Your sister? Lenny?
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Date: 2026-04-26 07:06 pm (UTC)Of course I miss her. Them. But Amy—. ( the pause is abrupt, indecisive. ) She's gone. Whatever this place can do, if it can bring back people who are dead, take them from before they die, it's not — I don't want her here.
( it's not, specifically, that. it's not that he doesn't think they could make some kind of a life here if she did turn up, but it wouldn't be her. it wouldn't be her and ben, the life they'd planned out together. farouk had destroyed her in much the same way he'd ensured david's life was a ruin, and he doesn't want that for her — to either come here and remember what'd happened to her, to ben; or to come here and have that waiting for her. or — not, as it were. but that amy wouldn't be his amy, so—.
(it circles back to the question wanda had answered earlier, the one he'd dodged at first and then answered in a roundabout way, his I've figured it out.) )
—Lenny would like this place. ( a flicker of consideration, a glance up to the ceiling; a correction— ) The Blocks, not the Sanctum. Too many cameras. Too many, ( he clicks his tongue. ) Enforcers. But she's got someone, and being away from her would upset her, so—.
It doesn't matter. ( decisive, a firm conclusion, even if he doesn't say in what way it doesn't matter. he doesn't shrug her off, but he does turn to her as much as the sofa allows. intense, intent— ) I told you, I'm not in a hurry. I miss them, but that doesn't mean I can't be happy here, too.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-26 07:31 pm (UTC)and lonely gives way to many other aspects of oneself.
it doesn't matter, and though david doesn't shrug her off, wanda does move her hand away. as he turns to her, intense and intent, wanda sits sideways, to face him, and grabs hold of his hand. )
I'm not asking because I'm trying to catch if you really meant it about not being in a hurry to leave. ( turning his palm up and over, she glances down, at the lines on his palm; one hand holds his, lightly, and the other she uses to draw over the lines—the heart line (ambiguous, between selfish and falls for easily), the head line (inconsistencies), the life line (cautious), the fate line (broken, different directions). ) I know what you said, and I believe you. I trust you.
( it's really that simple. this much, it's just learning about him, leaving open, perhaps, the ability for him to talk about those he misses and whatever he wants with her.
she moves his hand so that it's cupped, and she counts the mounts on his palm, under his fingers. it's fine — she's not actually doing a reading proper. instead, wanda opts to just hold his hand in hers. )
I'll keep an ear out for any Amys or Lennys, if they ever show up. ( and, of course— ) And keep my distance if a Farouk ever does show up, too. You'll be the first to know.
( a quiet smile follows, a tilt of her head, eyes meeting his. )
We'll look after each other.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-26 07:50 pm (UTC)and so that's where he leaves it, allowing wanda to take his hand in hers. he doesn't think she'd been lying, or had been trying to trick him, he'd just wanted to be clear. make sure she knew his perspective on the matter. trust is — well, it's not quite that it's challenging, per se, but he knows how easily it can be broken; he knows, too, how he prefers to curate it. he knows that not having easy access to that simple solution can make things — annoying, even if wanda has something of a cheat sheet in being able to guess at his feelings.
he does, quietly, acknowledge that— ) Not Farouk. He can hide himself. ( he can't hide the twist of bitterness in that, the distaste. it's short-lived, brief. ) But I don't want to talk about them, not Farouk, not Amy, not Lenny. ( we'll look after each other. ) What do you do for fun? What do you want to do? There's a whole world out there. ( his gaze flickers towards the window as if for emphasis. ) Don't lie to me and tell me you haven't been playing it safe.
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Date: 2026-04-26 08:19 pm (UTC)wanda moves past the subject because david says that he doesn't want to talk about them, not any of them. that he'll hear should amy or lenny arrive, but that farouk will be much more difficult to intercept. her cheat sheet does help in picking up that short-lived twist of bitterness, which is why she lets it be.
david glances out the window, and it makes wanda — think. )
I hitchhike. I get to meet a bunch of people that way. ( that can't really just be it. she thinks about it for a bit longer, finally letting go of his hand, and bringing up her legs on the couch, too; feet up on the cushion, knees bent, she hugs her legs close as she presses her side against the couch. ) Sometimes, I run into raiders—
( she pauses. hm. she owes henry a car window... well, if he hasn't asked since... )
I keep busy with work, and I try solving crossword puzzles with the magazines at work. I never get them right. ( for a moment, she releases her arms from around her legs, and fidgets with her fingers, with her sleeves, rings. ) There's someone I work with. We're — scouting out how easy it'd be to... ( you know ) —in the Sanctum.
( anyway! that's not super important, unless david wants to focus on it. )
I want to get a television. I have a stash of video tapes at work that I want to see. Sitcoms, mostly. Some movies. So, ( she motions with her hands, thumbs and pointer fingers stretched out, depicting a semblance of a rectangle ) it needs to have the VHS part.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-26 08:39 pm (UTC)( it overlaps with the rest of what she says, the thing about sometimes meeting raiders, and the way she doesn't linger on that all but confirms to david that he'd been correct in his assertion the night previous that they're nothing to worry about. assholes with guns, maybe, who get off on scaring people. she can handle them, he can handle them.
—but he does linger on that unfinished remark, precisely because it is unfinished. ordinarily, it'd be different. he wouldn't need to. the thought would be there, it'd accompany the utterance, and david would be able to decide if he wanted to pursue it or if he wanted to leave it. as it stands, it just comes across as if it's something wanda's not fully committed to, or like she thinks david will judge her. ) —How easy it'll be to what?
( it's more interesting than the idea of watching vhs. he's been there, done that. movie afternoons at clockworks, inoffensive things that wouldn't upset any of them. musicals. animations. dancing in the rain, bedknobs and broomsticks. rated universal, rated parental guidance. he doesn't think that's what wanda will like necessarily, it's just what it puts him in mind of. he almost tells her that they don't need a tv.
(lenny had agreed.)
he taps his fingers against his knees, a short one-two. ) What sitcoms?
no subject
Date: 2026-04-26 08:51 pm (UTC)but they have a car now, so maybe those days are behind her.
wanda presses her feet, annoyingly, onto the side of one of his thighs. wanda is fully committed to the ventures that she has going on with a certain vampire friend of hers, so it's more likely that she'll think david will judge her. still very much in those early stages of friendship, wanting to appear cool but not too cool that you're untouchable, that kind of thing.
her expression pinches. )
How easy it'll be to break into places. ( said quickly, ) Anyway, I have found Malcolm in the Middle. Also a few episodes of The Honeymooners, ( she's listing these off while counting on her fingers, almost as if she were to continue, he'll overlook her statement, (that is one of the reasons how she can afford this place) ) season 2 and season 5 of The Dick Van Dyke Show— ( she points at him, excitedly ) which is my favorite one.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-26 09:14 pm (UTC)he's not judging, not really — he'd gone along with her plan to sneak into silvia's store too quickly to really be able to comment — but he knows the consequences that can come from breaking into the wrong place at the wrong time. the reasons for it don't even matter, aren't important.
there's a lot in the way her expression tightens when he asks about it, the way she moves on, the press of her feet against his leg.
his attention drifts, away from her and towards the stereo. the cassette whirs each and every time the volume drops, when the recording-of-a-recording dips in and out. it reminds him of before.
a sharp glance back to her, expression bright. )
For what? Fun? The adrenaline rush? 'Cause you want to steal from people who have it better than you? ( he adjusts his weight to lean towards her without inadvertently pressing her feet deeper into his thigh. ) I know what you can do. It's not about how easy it is to break into anywhere. Everywhere's easy.
( so! )
—They used to show movies in the day room at Clockworks. TV shows were less frequent.
( or: his familiarity is thin. )
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Date: 2026-04-26 09:33 pm (UTC)in any case, almost dismissing his tangent about wanting to figure out the why, she says— )
That's why I need to find a TV with a VHS player. You'll like them. ( said with the confidence of someone who loves sitcoms and is about to show their friend something she considers precious, and will not take anything but this is awesome! as an answer— (it makes her feel nostalgic; pietro loved to tease her about her favorite sitcoms, pretending to be annoyed at her episode choices.)
then, a pause, her expression speaking volumes of someone who most definitely is debating saying something else.
(decidedly, david isn't like steve or erik.) )
It's an easy way to get money. I used to do it, with someone else, at the gambling dens. But, then that become tricky, and we were nearly found out one time. ( wanda's fledgling criminal days... ) Breaking in's easier. I use my powers, we steal a couple things, we get out with no one remembering we were there. ( she places her hands on her knees. ) The guy I work with—he figures out pawning the items off, so I don't worry about that. I get my share afterwards.
( then, she raises her right hand, pinky raised. )
I'm swearing you to secrecy.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-26 10:02 pm (UTC)it does, though, explain a few things about the apartment, regardless of any impact he might have had. it makes him rethink, too, the way he'd assumed she was judging him back when they met for the first time at the motel and david had pretended like he was going to get a job and pay his way for the room legitimately. it doesn't, of course, make him reconsider things enough to correct her, to set the record straight. )
Okay.
( it's easy agreement, accompanied by a loose lift of a shoulder before he leans forward, resting one hand on her knee for balance and hooking the pinky of his other hand around hers. )
I won't tell anyone how you make your money. But just because it's easier doesn't mean it's easy. Don't get cocky.
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Date: 2026-04-26 10:19 pm (UTC)genuinely, she had been wondering if this guilt she drags with her is fair for her to drag at all. (this is how bad habits start to get excused.)
even now, there's a little bit of that. of that guilt, of actually really enjoying the validation that david has brought into her life these past few days: we're powerful. why shouldn't they? why shouldn't she?
their pinkies hook together, an easy enough promise. his words aren't meant to chastise, but it still feels — somewhat like that. pietro used to steal before, use his speed to get medicine for the sick in novi grad, toys for the kids. she would tell him something similar, in an angry tone (you'll get shot—and then he was shot), but it's not the same as messing with people's heads. she glances away, momentarily, his hand warm on her knee. )
...I'm not. ( getting cocky. still, she gets her pinky, her hand, back to herself, presses it to her cheek. ) Maybe if — we worked together sometimes, on a few jobs, maybe— ( she's just plainly suggesting a team-up for crime. he seems understanding enough, and, maybe, through that, wanda could benefit in learning from him? their powers? ) It'd be less risky.
( he doesn't seem to be against crime, either way, so. )
I know others have strong feelings about stealing, ( but that's not what what makes her feel bad about the whole thing. she elaborates, quickly enough, ) but more than that — I don't want to screw up and hurt others.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-27 11:07 am (UTC)not paying for a room in a motel? fine, because he needs (needed) somewhere to live, and rooms were going spare. it wasn't hurting anyone. convincing someone here, someone there to give him a discount? he doesn't have a job, and they're still getting something for it. beggars might not be choosers, but—. )
I care. ( others have strong feelings. it's not like he doesn't have a history of it, but that was different, that wasn't him.
—but even so, it's hard to call his feelings on it strong. (it's complicated.) )
I— Before, I stole a lot. Lied. Cheated. It didn't matter who from, didn't matter what it was, just as long as I got what I wanted, needed at the end of it. People got hurt. You mentioned gambling dens? Fine. ( haves over have nots. people who've got what they've got by using other people. ) Gangs. Runners, whatever. But I don't hurt people.
( unless they deserve it, but he and wanda will cross that bridge when they get to it. )
no subject
Date: 2026-04-27 12:59 pm (UTC)then: the gambling dens, fine. )
The Pavillion has a lot of them. ( gambling dens. she lets her hands settle down to hold onto her ankles, the in-between of her socks and trousers. wanda gets what he means: it's not about hurting others, but gambling dens are pretty corrupt themselves. her jobs with astarion were mostly in stealing from cults, shady people. but david is right to assume that just because it's easier, it doesn't mean it's easy. there could always be consequences, and attempting the same game plan in the sanctum might lead to negative results. ) It's about stealing, ( "sharing the wealth", as astarion has put it before. ) not about hurting others.
( so, that's something they can agree with.
wanda fidgets, though, fingers curling into the denim of her trousers— )
—it's not that I thought you would tell. ( this is about the pinky promise; a clarification. ) There are people here I don't want to disappoint. It's still lying, but I don't want to risk it.
( conflicted feelings, between wanting to be good and keeping to promises she made before, and not wanting to lose face with others that she's grown close to. )
no subject
Date: 2026-04-27 03:16 pm (UTC)he doesn't. it's not quite about asking for forgiveness over asking for permission, but there's certainly an element of it; more than that, though, is that once david's decided on something, he tends to be reluctant to change his mind, outside permission or agreement or no.
david doesn't know anyone else wanda knows, so it's all irrelevant to him, who she wants to impress, who she doesn't; as far as he's concerned with regards to her, it's about them. his world, often, is small like that.
he's still while she fidgets, the movements of her fingers in her denim drawing his attention, and he watches that rather than her as she speaks. it's a lack of certainty, but whether that's about him or about what she's been doing or what would happen if it became common knowledge, all he can do is guess.
she finishes and he looks back up to meet her eyes, expression neutral. )
I don't break promises and I don't like secrets, but as long as we're honest with each other, it's none of my business what you tell anyone else.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-27 03:56 pm (UTC)she smiles softly, the tension in her hands releasing, a teasing lilt to her voice, )
And a pinky promise is the most binding one.
( weirdly enough, it's one of these things that fall under the category of 'roommate house rules', learning and presenting limits and aspects that are expected to be respected.
speaking of not breaking promises and being honest with each other— )
I know you mentioned being careful about other mutants, but— You know about the meetings Charles puts together once in a while, right? Will you go to those?
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Date: 2026-04-27 04:40 pm (UTC)( he hadn't missed the way that logan's demeanour had changed as soon as he'd mentioned charles. he hadn't missed, either, the note of expectancy around it, the way that he'd seemed to expect david holding a certain opinion of charles. he — charles — had seemed nice enough, well-meaning enough, but ultimately idealistic in a way that didn't and doesn't align with david's experiences — recruiting children to a school, holding conversations with their parents, explaining whatever.
david shifts his weight and unfolds his legs, standing and making his way first back to the coffee table to grab a strawberry, and then back to the cassettes. he picks one at random, unlabelled, and he rotates it in his hands as if trying to guess as to what's on either side. ultimately, he has no clue, and he hits stop and eject on the stereo, not bothering to rewind the cassette that's currently playing, before popping this one in. a click-thunk of plastic, and the cassette starts playing more loudly than david expects, and he winces, the expression involuntary before he adjusts the volume.
he looks back towards her. )
—A lot of mutants I've met like to put each other in boxes, and I don't care for that.
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Date: 2026-04-27 05:30 pm (UTC)well, wanda considers erik different. a little more cynical, closer to how she feels about life at large. their compatibility feels like it goes beyond the whole concept of 'mutants', considering especially that wanda isn't. wanda's mouth thins, wondering who else he has met, really, and turns to sit properly as he stands anew to change the cassette (pleased, too, that he's eating more fruits). )
Who else did you meet? Erik?
( then, a new cassette, and a song plays, some live recording—raw and muffled, sounds of cheers along with the music. it's loud for her, too, and she glances up at the ceiling, wonders about whether they'll get complaints?, when david adjusts the volume.
she can't really make out the words of the song. )
If it helps, not everyone who goes to the meetings are mutants. ( she shrugs against the couch. ) We could scope it out. ( said, almost like a question, but it's not like she thinks that david needs someone to go with. ) You've never heard of Charles's school before, back home?
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Date: 2026-04-27 05:50 pm (UTC)( all else being equal, david wouldn't say he likes logan, but given the choice between logan and scott, he'd pick logan. it's not that he's nicer or more pleasant, but he's easier to read. straight-forward in a way that makes things simple. he's not condescending. there'd been no bullshit about gifted schools, no circling around what he meant versus what he was saying, no evasiveness. no hamfisted attempts to force david down a route he was uninterested in built on a guise of 'help and support', all whilst not bothering to ask what david might want.
david isn't sure if it helps or not that not everyone who attends is a mutant; he thinks there's a chance that mutant is just the term that handful of earths use for what amounts to the same thing in other worlds, that the differences are semantic and not-functional, that what it means in the long run, for people like him and people like wanda, with powers that scare others, is negligible.
what they are doesn't matter; it's what they can do.
he tilts his head and eyes her, lips pressing into a line that's a non-verbal shrug of sorts. ) Sure. ( quick, agreement that's mostly non-committal; there's no date for the next meeting, so—. there's time for the both of them to change their minds. )
It's not that I haven't heard of it, it doesn't exist. We had — Summerland for a while, but that's gone, and it wasn't a school. They weren't finding kids and recruiting them. They weren't teaching them. They—. It's not the same. Where I'm from, people who are different just get to live with that label.
( uttered with a thread of agitation, one that sits just below the surface of his words. it's not necessarily the sort of thing that's evident outwardly, except for the lack of being settled, the animation of his expression, but wanda being wanda will likely pick up on the rest of it, the irritation, the hurt.
abruptly— ) You get it.
( it's not a question. )
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Date: 2026-04-27 06:09 pm (UTC)( ? shut up.
summerland, though, again, bring in the idea that charles's school doesn't exist in david's world. it doesn't exist in wanda's, either, even if a lot of elements about their world (from what erik has told her) are so strangely parallel to the history of her own. the same scars and tragedies in europe that she's familiar with, same language for these traditions that they got to celebrate briefly during the winter—
it's not a question; she does get it. a spike of irritation, hurt; smashing cymbals loud and unfettered. wanda's quiet, resists the urge to tell him it's okay, feeling what he does, that summerland isn't here, those people. it paints some more of the picture that is david and his experiences.
instead, ) I do. ( get it. he wouldn't even need to read her mind to know that she means it.
still, that eruption of agitation sits under her skin, crawling uncomfortably. she can't just sit, which is why she stands on the couch, takes a few steps on and around it (it's a much better couch to what it was before david 'changed' it), pushing some distance between them as if that much is going to help lessen what she feels him feeling. arms crossed, one hand up on her chin, thoughtful, she pauses, feet sinking on the cushions, then turns to face him. )
...what do you think of Charles? I think he means well.
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Date: 2026-04-27 07:12 pm (UTC)he doesn't know why she moves so abruptly from the couch, not until he takes a minute to think about it and realise: him. his mouth twists and, though wanda turns towards him, david looks away. he's going to have to work on that. emotions. he can't have, doesn't want her picking up on—. it's not that it's embarrassing, david barely knows what embarrassment is, it's that he's worked hard, tried deliberately to pull together a version of himself that, at least on the outside, is everything that they think he's not: calm. together.
(you can't reconcile—
—well, they're wrong. the david they see, their perceive, isn't who he is.) )
—Lots of people mean well. ( blunter than he means it to be, followed almost immediately by an inhale of breath and a quick glance up, short-lived, reluctant, searching. he tempers the remark, himself, with— ) He seems like a good guy. Nice. Knows what he wants and has had the good fortune to be able to do it.
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