( wanda could also say that he sounds nothing like what she expects him to, but his accent is familiar, almost comforting to her. definitely american, so that's something she knows, at least. he offers her his hand to get up and she takes it, feeling the brace of muscles taut to pull her up.
but figures, the guy who kicked the door to get out would definitely be strong.
perhaps, too, bullheaded, when he starts talking about crates, about things that could be salvageable in all this water. wanda knows, of course, that it's the medicine.
she glances past them, around the room. nothing's really floating anymore, and the water that had that toppled them over like dolls seems to be receding. upwards. she isn't particularly optimistic about that, so she frowns, and moves over towards a crate; suppose they are doing this. )
Let's hurry, then.
( wanda would always call pietro out for stealing, for doing things that would get him in trouble. especially after he got his powers and he felt unstoppable. but it's always there, under her skin, understanding that scarcity makes for desperation, and maybe this is worth some risk. her hands on the top of the crate, she grips onto the side, and measures her options; red pulses under her hands, driving screws off the metal crates' top, and with some effort, she manages to curl it towards her, the metal groaning under the exertion.
her logic is that it's easier to get things out in small packages than to get the whole crate out.
no subject
but figures, the guy who kicked the door to get out would definitely be strong.
perhaps, too, bullheaded, when he starts talking about crates, about things that could be salvageable in all this water. wanda knows, of course, that it's the medicine.
she glances past them, around the room. nothing's really floating anymore, and the water that had that toppled them over like dolls seems to be receding. upwards. she isn't particularly optimistic about that, so she frowns, and moves over towards a crate; suppose they are doing this. )
Let's hurry, then.
( wanda would always call pietro out for stealing, for doing things that would get him in trouble. especially after he got his powers and he felt unstoppable. but it's always there, under her skin, understanding that scarcity makes for desperation, and maybe this is worth some risk. her hands on the top of the crate, she grips onto the side, and measures her options; red pulses under her hands, driving screws off the metal crates' top, and with some effort, she manages to curl it towards her, the metal groaning under the exertion.
her logic is that it's easier to get things out in small packages than to get the whole crate out.
she glances up at him. )
Will this be enough?