02-14-2018
03:42 AM
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Name: Fred (F)
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02-14-2018, 03:42 AM
One Phone Call [Post #1]
Boston Facility [Holding Cells]

-- SET-UP
There is sometimes a method to the madness, a fine line between it and genius.

To the unobservant, or those whose minds exists on a singular plane, Wanda Maximoff is an unhinged ticking time bomb. Her actions seem random at best, the ghosts in her head that she speaks with are supposedly no more than phantom remnants, her intentions are vastly unclear.

Still, she has her ways of getting in places where most others would fail.
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02-14-2018
01:21 PM
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Name: Fred (F)
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02-14-2018, 01:21 PM
[In-Character] [Post #2]
Most would say it was random. Gabriel would say it was a psychotic blip. There was little in the way that her thought ever formulated without meaning or purpose. The fact that her mind existed on a multitude of planes, that was what implied to the outside world that she was mad. Her uncheck abilities that bent and bowed in regard to her emotions…that just meant she felt something.

So there was a reason that she stepped through the fabric of reality, that she twisted through the layers of Elliot’s plane and found it all but bare, but pushed through it until she stood where she was meant to be. She had seen it, and that was where she decided to be. With little more than a flick of her wrist, she disrupted the immediate dampeners meant to disable otherwise temper or disable her mutation. It wouldn’t hold for long, not unless she thought it a brilliant idea to rip this part of the world into nothing. That would deter her focus, her need to be there.

Lifting her hands, she took a step forward and set her palms against bulletproof glass and focused on the redhead within. The girl didn’t move or respond, perhaps did not even notice. She simply sat in a steel chair staring at a white wall. Wanda wondered how many times that wall had been painted, over, and over, and over, and…

She shook her head.

“Little mutant.” She whispered in sing-song and tapped the tip of her right index finger against the glass. “Do you want to come out and play?” Wanda started and pressed her hands more firmly against the glass as wide smile slid across her face. “They haven’t taken it yet, the power of your thoughts.” That was…fascinating. “Too intertwined,” she lifted her left hand away from the glass and her fingers toyed at something invisible, “too bound and lost in the mess of your blood.” Then she giggled.
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'cause someone's out there
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