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So, Skrulls are down and out, being taken away by other SHIELD agents while Fitz and Bobbi are rushed over to the infirmary. That being done, it just leaves Carol standing in the lab, giving Wanda a wry expression, "Okay, so what exactly did I miss while I was gone, because that was /not/ a normal invasion. Shapechangers?"
*
Skrull out, and aliens gone, wounded freed and one tired witch leaning against the wall. Such marks the end of a typical day at SHIELD. She pulls her coat shut and replaces her knife in its sheath, then pulls out something else from one of the pockets. It's a honey candy, popped into her mouth and sucks on it, unable to be entirely polite. Tucking it up against her gumline makes her appear slightly like a squirrel, but the instant energy boost is essential. "Where can I begin?" These are questions made difficult and pointed by proximity, and she has to think for a time, focusing her thoughts into English.
"Aliens came in November. They attacked at Times Square, a policeman turned into a green man in front of the television." Her lips tighten a little, and Wanda gives the blonde woman a sigh. "Then the president, Mr Kennedy, says in the paper aliens have come. They contacted the Americans. Maybe the Soviets? I do not know. It seems we are known to two aliens that do not get along, like Soviet Russia and America, but worse. So another alien, from a race called the Asgardians like Viking gods, claims he will protect us. Except he does not do this. He kills Mr Kennedy at Dallas. It seems then there are people everywhere who are not human, only look human, and change their shape. They are assassins. They are in places of power. We find hints of them all over under old Missus Director Carter. Then Loki, this alien who says he is a god and kills the president, he is shot dead. Now the aliens are in Shield because, you know, they are searching for power. For something. This facility on the Governor Island, a jail for powerful people with gifts like yours and maybe aliens, it comes from a weapon they find in Turkey. Missus Director makes us get it. She puts it in this jail, this place they build because Nato and the leaders say they must. But she acts so wrong, so strange, I know she isn't human. I tried looking but the signature was too concealed. I need to find more aliens to be sure. And those scientists? The man, Mr. Fitz? He hates me for what I see in this program they are doing, because it seems too much like the Third Reich. We in Europe know what wrongness looks like, and this is it." Might as well get the tale out in a telling, and the weary young woman offers up her explanation as best she can in words that seethe in her brain and pain her soul. "Now at the island jail Director Carter is shot and is proven she is some kind of alien. And this Doctor Weaver is an alien. Now Mister Director Coulson is doing his best, but we start to look very uneasy at everyone in power, do we not? Because who can be trusted, who is safe? I am not certain, only that we are in poor times and these Skrull, these Kree, these other aliens. They must stop. And I will stop them, if I can, and help those who do it."
*
Carol nods, then pauses at the mention of the Kree, "Ah, yes… Kree." She coughs a bit, shaking her head as she says, "I heard about some of all that, though not everything. But then I was on leave after I had a run-in with some strange types while I was liaisoning over at NASA in Houston." She moves back over towards Wanda, "How are you doing, though? I know that takes a lot out of you, as impressively scary as that was." She grins a bit, "Compared to just punching them, anyway."
*
The candy melts away slowly, feeding constant sweetness into her veins and scouring upon her tongue. The smoke of the wisdom imparted passes, and she runs her hands over her dark hair. Tugging and combing those lightly curling locks, Wanda gives a good swallow in order to clear her thoughts and her head.
"I am well. I have faced worse. I think worse. They were not good to fight," she replies softly, shaking her head. "Dangerous up close. Kept away they are not so bad. You use… light? Or is it actual energy?"
*
Carol nods, "Well, it's energy, I can absorb it and redirect it like that." She smiles a little, "I think one of the other agents called me 'Princess Sparklefists' until he saw how much I could actually bench press… then he apologized."
She hmms, "I just… well, after I got these powers, I felt like I was winging it and not actually learning what I could do." A bit of a smile then, as she looks at Wanda, "Figured out how fast I can actually fly, too. And it's… pretty fast."
*
Princess Sparklefists would normally warrant a laugh, a cocky grin. Unfortunately, Wanda is not the type to laugh. Classify her among the stranger peoples of the world whose dark, frosty views on humour are practically mordant. A click of her tongue is more likely than a bark or a dry, wispy crackle. "Good then he said sorry." Her chin dips slightly for all the sensitivity and bluntness the situation calls for.
"Fast is, yes, important." Licking her lips, she shifts the candy to her teeth and gives it a hard crunch. Swallowing the shards means the honey will hit her bloodstream more directly. "These are bad, yes? All the aliens."
*
Carol looks thoughtful at that, "I don't… well, I think they're just like people, really. Some are good, some are bad. And we just seem to be dealing with a lot of the bad ones." She hmms, "I just feel like I'm an Indian looking at all the Europeans swarming across America chanting about Manifest Destiny…"
Carol then looks wryly at Wanda, "And from this angle, it doesn't look all that fun, let me tell you." She shakes her head a bit, "So what were you up to tonight? I just have a veritable mountain of paperwork to deal with."
*
"Good. This would seem difficult. We have entered a war, and it is not ours. We are not to be overrun or burned, I hope. There is reason not to trust either side." Wanda's finality in tone is not the easiest of things to endure, nor the narrowing her eyes as she gives the lab a final once over. No doubt techs are going to be crawling all over the place, and she's not interested in explaining herself to those who have no idea how she defied the laws of physics or the abilities manifested by some of their agents, but not the others.
Paperwork earns a wrinkle of her nose. "Yes. That. I do not do the paper. It is too easy to not understand. Bad English." Oh, apparently so. On the other hand, no one really needs the explanations she gives, fearfully so. "I will see Miss Agent Morse. Then I am going home to my family."