1964-09-25 - Mysterious Ways
Summary: Phoenix has something to sharee with Shield.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
jean-grey carol-danvers wanda 


Chinatown makes for an odd spot to find a Caucasian girl, especially one so obviously not Chinese as Wanda. She knows her herbs better than the wizened Crone selling oddments in an apothecary though. It smells heavily in there of pungent rot and musty plants, earthy odors heavy on memory. They're familiar enough to her given she spent years in Tibet and points as far east. Packages handed over to her contain ginseng and traditional blends asked for by name in the native tongue of that vendor. Thus there has been cackling and tea. The venue serves to afford the Witch a chance to indulge herself with someone else's coin, because SHIELD money doesn't go nearly so far as the mystical currency or the fact, hey, the better half is a very successful doctor person.

High up.. well not too high up on the rooftop was Jean. Jean dressed in her usual X-Man garb, cats eye mask covering her features, too long red hair tied into a ponytail, black X-man uniform and cape that hangs upon her shoulders. It was clear that she was there, and there was no attempt at hiding who she was. Though, if anyone tried to get a clear focus upon her face? A small bubble of telekinetics would hover and shimmer, allowing her appearance to seem like water..

This was her reaching out. Boot upon the edge of the building in front of Wing Sing. Did she know that SHIELD was there? Probably not. But the stomach followed the food and a nice bowl of fried rice, spring rolls, and boneless chicken were had. (It was a rather big bowl, lemme tell ya).

For once the heroine eats, and when she eats, she eats (and it was glorious). And yet, as she watches those below, surface thoughts were scanned, in hopes of seeing, hearing.. or even gleaming that someone must or might be from SHIELD.. for fiery theatrics just may get her shot. Or worse..

"Oh ew. Squid? You're a horrible person, Mr. Johnson!" (She says this of the passerby.)

Speaking of lunch, Carol Danvers is actually getting a bite to eat in Wing Sing, since… well, why not take advantage of it? In this case, she has a plate of garlic chicken and fried rice in front of her, her surface thoughts a bit of a mess as they often tend to be, though someone that would be prying could see the rather plain-dressed woman has a few thoughts about SHIELD floating around in her head. Along with a few other things that could be picked up depending on how much one pries…

Wing Sing provides one of the more reliable options for a committed lack-of-meat-a-tarian. Thaumivoric vegetarian doesn't sound quite right. Regardless, Wanda orients on the building after emerging from the dark stoop in a shop where the sun rarely shines through slatted blinds. Her pace changes slightly, adopting the wary walk of someone used to being on streets far less friendly than these.

Whatever the case for unease, the brunette witch makes a terrible mark at the best of times. Holding a paper bag of herbs and spices, she isn't interesting. Nor is she likely to have any hidden cash on her with that corset and those torn leggings. The only thing Wanda brings to Wing Sing is appetite, attitude suppressed.

But call her paranoid (she is), very little escapes notice from above. Especially a telekinetic shimmer warping a figure on high. She halts before reaching the door, plain as day in her claret coat and ruby-and-garnet headband, staring up, way up. What is it that Strange always does?

Cast magic missile at the darkness? Hm, no. Yell at it, right. "Why are you up there?" Her Transian accent blends Slavic and Romantic influences, singular unto itself.

The boot on top was no longer a good look now that she was getting into the goods of actually eating. The other half of team-redhead and her various peoples that she call family (Charles included) would be proud of the appetite she conducts, though not so proud of the use of her powers to recklessly create herself a wavering shimmer as if she were underneath water.

If anyone witnessed how she truly ate in that moment, they would consider the poor thing a behemoth!

So, she sits upon the edge now, swinging her feet, a bottle of fizzy bubbly soon taken up to swig upon. The surface thoughts.. yes.. those were the one that catch her attention, though.. in regards to Carol, her eyebrow raises and she immediately withdraws with a cringe. But she does leave a 'hello!' there!

And yet, Wanda speaks. She knows that accent, mostly from her time training with Erik and hanging out with Warren. So, it was easy for her to call down.. without a care of anyone listening. Cause.. what's done in the dark..

"I'm waiting to be arrested! Or maybe for a SHIELD person! Probably arrested though. But really, I need help!"

Carol's eyes shoot open at the "Hello!" that echoes in her head. She quickly glances back and forth, then rises from the table, walking out of the Wing Sing restaurant and looking around. Spying Wanda out, she makes her way over towards the brunette witch, relaxing just a bit as she says, once she's close enough, "Hey Wanda, um, I just had the weirdest thing happen… well, okay, it's not the weirdest thing, but it's definitely in the top ten so far this week."

"Nothing here is 'weird,'" says the Witch rather emphatically. Easy for her to be a bit certain on that front, in part considering her total absence of doubt on that front. The world is weird when your grown children are having lives of their own while you're about the same age as them, your partner is immortal, and you have given the middle finger recently to a major servant of Death. Fun times in Casa Strange-Maximoff.

The same odd certainly applies to her deciphering Jean's outfit, the red hair, everything else. If she's expected to know the X-Men, it doesn't exactly show… But then, she has some idea. Her fingers go to her brow to shield her eyes from the light, concealing their brilliant gold shade from the general public. Easier when they lie in darkness to distinguish she isn't quite human, isn't quite normal, and holds to the mystic so very tightly. Her fingers curling could be construed as a wave, though asking what's up with what might not. "Is it the way of Americans to sit up on a building? She could fall." Oh, Wanda, worried about everything. She might remember Jean taking down a crane, but not in that outfit.

"Why the arresting? You did something?" These are questions for Jean on high to answer, like a saint addressing the laity.

No? Nothing? No hello back?

~Just think hello! It's okay!~ Is given to Carol, then.. a mental shrug after. A new mind usually doesn't get it on the first try!

But she could tell that the object of her tiny conversation was approaching, her brows shoot up and.. 'HOLY SHIT!' It was Carol Danvers! Who would have thought that Captain Marvel would actually think the thoughts that .. well..

As Wanda speaks, her shoulders lift in a shrug. While she wanted to be cryptic, she literally had no time to mess around and anger an agent of Chaos, nor a lady Marvel. "No, but I have someone who did. If you can come up here, we can talk about it. That's only if you can help me. If not, then we've never had this conversation."

Jean wouldn't say that she could make it so, but there it was.

"Can you fly? If not, there's a fire escape thinger in the back."

Carol looks a bit surprised, ~Not really used to this kinda thing…~ She glances up at Jean, then looks over at Wanda, "Well, this is definitely more interesting than going over Phil's TPS reports. Let's go on up?" And with that, she takes advantage of the nearby alley to fly up to the roof that Jean's at, carrying Wanda along for the ride as Carol lands there, giving Jean a curious expression as if trying to place her.

Wanda nods to that, easily enough going still. She isn't one for being touched by random people, all the more so by people who are not her lunar twin or her citrine partner, but Carol comes about as close as she will ever to being comfortable. Flight is not hard with her, considering she has plenty of skill managing it herself, and Carol is hardly weak in any case. Behold, she's shiny and lovely in her dark fashion. As soon as they are eye-level with Jean, she clasps her hands and offers a level consideration of the other woman.

"Thank you that you offer." Her English isn't perfect, but not for lack of intelligence. It's merely number nine, probably, of the many languages she knows in fluent phases. Chaos' daughter and the earth's beloved, she nods. "I will listen. Help is possible. You have someone that did something, has made for trouble?"

Jean moves away from the edge as she sees Carol and Wanda move away, hearing the mental reply from Carol, Jean gave a nod at the open air as she leaves her half eaten bowl upon the ledge of the building. It takes only a few minutes for her to grab her cape, using it to wipe away at her mouth as she takes those few cautious steps away from the ledge, at least keeping her back at the ready just in case.

Still, the shimmer that surrounds her face is even more prominent. Could it be that she gathered up water from the surface to keep in front of her so that she could appear disoriented? Maybe.. but she tries to hide as best she could. Leave no trace back to Xavier's, by any means necessary.

"Yes. In a place far far from here. There was trouble in Iceland, me and a team of those like me went to try to help. We found two mutants. One, has the ability to tap into our powers and to make them a gross version of ourselves. The other, she can puppet people and make them do whatever she likes. I cannot contain the one that we have, but he is dangerous. Short of killing the young man, we have no options to explore."

Carol looks at Jean, not worrying about secret identities because… well, Jean's apparently able to get into her head and Wanda is Wanda. Then she glances curiously at Jean, listening intently to what she says, then she hrms, "We might have… some options available. But you're asking us to take them off your hands?" She looks over at Wanda, then at Jean, just making sure she understands the particulars of what's going on.

It's generally a bad idea to enter a conversation with 'Then kill them,' but no doubt the answer is on the tip of Wanda's tongue. Proof she knows a thing or two about discretion, she gives a short nod of understanding. Her burning amber eyes narrow as she translates bit by bit, obtaining a better understanding for what that actually entails.

"You take someone from Iceland. Two," she amends herself. "The man is not controlled. He is a threat. He uses powers." Hmm. Mustn't introduce him to Hope. Mental footnote aside, she nods grimly at Carol.

"Not good. A risk to have someone with a power that wants to hurt others. He does want to hurt others?"

Jean nods towards Carol as she makes the point clear. Then that same nod goes towards Wanda, figuring she'll answer it all in one go. "Yes. He can't stay with us. He's dangerous." Case in point.. wait.. she wasn't going to show them. Not yet. "From what I could gleam from him, yes. He's dangerous. There's no coming back from what he's done and there is no want, no genuine need to feel or be good. Do good. There is nothing there, but to only go downward, do more harm than great." She sighs a little, guilt hitting her. What if it was her?

"He is one of the ones who wants to watch the world burn, not because there is need for it, not because it is all he knows, but because he is bored."

Carol hrms softly, "Alright, well… we have ways to put him on ice, that's true enough. Though now the question becomes how are we going to transport him safely. Or is he already sedated where he is now?" She passes Wanda a glance, as if wondering just how deep this is going to get.

Wanda is comfortable enough floating to hold a conversation and ponder humane forms of murder, facts no one really needs to know. It weighs on her brow, the downturn of her generous mouth holding the consideration in all its serious measures. "I do not like it," she says finally, a frank undertone as old as mountains and scarred by the trials of her life. She doesn't frost her opinions often, and certainly not for a girl with a teardrop for a head. She can't make eye contact with Carol as she is, snugly held in place, but she tilts her head slightly to allow for easier conversation. "I do not like it. We have a word for the man like that." German; regretfully, it's common. «Sociopaths demonstrate no remorse for their actions and cannot be helped easily. Their minds are wrong. Changing that changes their very nature. It is sometimes best to keep them from harming anyone.» Or, as Pietro might say, offer them with a good boot into the LaBrea tar pits or an open volcanic caldera, but no one shares that brand of humour here, do they? Not safe to find out.

"I can move him and not be there." She gives a little shrug of her shoulders.

Now she was quiet. The women before her were nice enough and they weren't going to go after her head. Even still, watching the two women with a critical gaze allows that blanket shield to drop. It shows her features but.. still. Catseye mask. She looks as if she's going to burgle someones home.

The Shadow Thief.

"I can move him as well, but maybe your methods are better than mine. Less brutal. But.." There was a nod given to Wanda. "If you like, I will send over a dossier, and pick out a meeting point. Something safe. Then you two can take it from there. I -would- like to know what happens to him in the interim, and maybe there is something that I can do for you and yours for allowing us this favor." Not to mention, the other half of her is a liason.. maybe she can pass along messages of good tidings. But.. not bringing that up now.

"Is that fair?"

Carol nods slightly, "Alright, we can work with that. If you want to send the dossier, we'll have some people meet you there. That might be the best way to go about this." She looks at Jean, then glances at Wanda, "I suppose we can probably manage that. I would think between the two of us, we could manage things."

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