You're the prince of the playground, Little alphabet boy

[nothingmorehorrifying]

There's an uncharitable part of Wanda that thinks the keepers at the Raft get off on watching her struggle. With the restriction collar, the straightjacket is entirely theater, designed to make her feel like even less than human, and she hates them for it. Even Hydra had at least done her the courtesy of leaving her hands free while they made her into an experiment and kept her in a stone and plastic box. Now she's robbed of motion, of the freedom to eat or use the bathroom without assistance–another point in favor of her keepers enjoying this more than is right. It's as boring as it is maddening. 

She can't even play bongos on the furniture like Scott a few cells over. Not that she necessarily wants to but at least it would be something to do.

The sounds of punching and crashing are almost a novelty, especially when she hears the soft electric buzz of her cell suddenly cut out. Someone shouts and then abruptly stops shouting and Wanda sits up a little straighter as she sees movement at the edge of her window. It's a profile that's become very familiar to her and Wanda truly breaks out of her torpor, struggling to her feet. 

Steve is in front of her and opening her door, holding out an army knife to cut her loose and she trips forward in her need to be free of the cursed thing. 

Trips forward and almost hits her head on the edge of a bathtub that definitely wasn't there before. 

Wanda's created enough illusions to know that this isn't one. She's stepped out of her cell and fallen into a bathtub in a dark, unlit room. Panic starts at her and she notices her vision hazing red. It's useless and now she needs to think, needs to remember her training. 

What she actually does is kick the edge of the tub viciously, because she's earned at least a little anger after all this.

Comments

[ahollowman]

Tony takes the jacket off with the heavy duty kitchen shears, eschewing using the bolt cutters, which are more fun, for the scissors, which will undoubtedly make Wanda more comfortable about his working behind her, given their present relationship. Tony had himself to thank for that.

He snipped. The jacket started falling away, destroyed, unuseable.

"So, what else do you want to know?" he asked.

[nothingmorehorrifying]

"I'm in another dimension and there's an envelope waiting for me." It's honestly not even that scary, compared to the accommodations and sudden changes in location that had been almost normal with the Avengers. She's just still working on believing it.

"Start again and make it sound believable."

[ahollowman]

Tony sat and leaned back in his chair with a sigh, but started to better explain despite his general dislike of details and minutia. He preferred to deal with the broad strokes of situations like this.

"The area is called Darrow, it resembles a city, about 2016, which is handy for us, a little like the Jersey Coast area, also a little convenient, though not so much for other people. If you try to travel too far out of it, you just double back into the city. You do that every time you try, no matter what. Yes, I tried it myself. No, I would not recommend it. The city knows you've arrived and has provided you with a phone, keys, money and an ID card. Those are the facts. Those are the only facts anyone knows for certain."

[nothingmorehorrifying]

Wanda takes that information in and tries to make the picture work in her head. It seems patently strange, but not impossible. The whole point of who they are is to deal with the impossible but it's a hard concept to work with.

"So we're in a tiny part of America that's set apart from everywhere else. And I've been kidnapped by it." It was just believable, but only just.

Wanda took a long drink of the smoothie and tried not to show on her face that it did, actually, taste good.

[ahollowman]

Tony pantomimed a pair of scales. More or less; really, the issue was both more and less.

"A tiny space that seems like America with no obvious way out and an ability to presciently have apartments waiting for us when we get here, if we're being exact about it."

He stared at her for a long moment, and then added, non-sequitur, "What size do you wear? Looking at you in those is making me want to throw myself out a window, which come to think of it might be appealing to you right now, but regardless, the other option is wearing one of my t-shirts after your shower, and that is probably even more repellent at the moment."

[nothingmorehorrifying]

"I am trying to decide if that's even the strangest thing I've heard this week," Wanda says, using a glibness clearly learned from Sam and Clint.

"I wear a small or an extra small. Or a medium, depending on where you shop." Wanda mimics Tony's weighing gesture. He may be a scientific genius but she knows that there is very little by way of science that goes into the arbitration of clothing design.

[ahollowman]

"You're about to hear stranger," Tony told her. "This place isn't always sanity-friendly. Or maybe I'm just a hot mess."

He sighed and took a note on Wanda's acceptable sizes in his phone's notepad. It sounded like an entirely too wide range, but he'd never been to the women's section before. Pepper had dissuaded him from buying her any clothes personally.

"Anything else you need? Toothbrush and whatever?"

[nothingmorehorrifying]

Wanda shrugs. "There is always stranger," she points out, especially in their line of work. Her only experience with this world is limited to Tony Stark's apartment, so she can't really comment except for the simple knowledge that something more seemingly impossible around the corner is a simple fact of her life.

"I have nothing but what's on my back right now," Wanda says, giving Tony carte blanche. "And I'm a thirty-two B." Because the prison bra is frankly the most uncomfortable thing she's ever worn.

[ahollowman]

If anyone asked him why he was in the women's intimates section, he was definitely saying it was for his daughter. The last thing he wanted to do was bring Wanda home some kind of lacy red number. She might actually appreciate one, but not from Tony.

"Thirty-two B. Got it. There's uh, there's food in the fridge. You can have whatever you want. Might want to shower while I'm gone?"

Because it would be better than showering while Tony was bustling around the apartment.

"I'll be back. There's a baseball bat by the window and an ax-handle by the door in case--" He paused. "You know what, never mind. You've got it handled."