A Change Is Gonna Come

[swiftargyros]

Characters: Hank McCoy, Wanda Frank, Pietro Maximoff
Date & Time: September 30th, mid-morning
Setting: NYC
Summary: Those first steps are always a doozy.
Rating: PG-13 but subject to change
Status: Semi-Closed

Comments

[chaosmagus]

Wanda laughed, a bright, sharp sound in the mid-morning air. He dodged her light-hearted swat to his shoulder, but she had somewhat expected that. “Некако мислим да ћете преживети мало потцењивачки. Шта са неразређен таленат,” she teased. “It’s still an advantage, however

[swiftargyros]

Pietro snorted. "Oh, so now you think it is not good idea to stay. This makes sense." He wanted to roll his eyes but the Serbian had a notion that doing so would cause his brain to hemorrhage, if the violent pounding in his temples was anything to go by. For all that it hurt, it wasn't an unexpected amount of discomfort. That was the best way to approach injuries, he found. If one calculated the approximate damage one would incur, then when it came it was no surprise and much more readily accepted. That was what had made him such a good athlete as a boy; where the gentler ones had cried over a skinned knee, Pietro had merely resigned himself to the idea of broken bones and bloodied scrapes and anything less than that had seemed like a real blessing

[donotmockme]

Already Hank was imagining the experiments he was going to have to run on the equipment in his hands, and absently, as if the fight had not just ended, he began to make his way back to his car. Ideally he'd spend the next few days on site, figuring the 'beast' out where it had been fallen. These were not ideal circumstances however, and there were other people involved.

He looked up at the comment coming from the boy, offering an awkward shoulder in reply.

"Perhaps. But if so, then we had the same goal. I have been trying to track this for the last fifteen blocks." He gave the surrounding neighborhood a once over, the civilians had fled, with only the brave and dumb peeking behind their curtains and doors. For a moment, he wished he was the sort of man to revel in this, instead he only felt dis-interest. The real issue of the day was the two new mutants that were about to join the Mansion, and the gadgetry in hand.

"We had better best be going, before anyone thinks to call the authorities instead of Science Fiction Tomorrow." He

[chaosmagus]

Perhaps it was the injuries and blood loss combined with the post-battle adrenaline, but Pietro was thoroughly grating on her nerves at the moment. Was he so... so traditional that he would rather she had run and left his injured ass behind than stay and HELP him? What would he have done, injured as he had been? He would have likely ended up recaptured. “Next time you come up with a stupid idea I’ll leave your ass on the ground, then,” she told him icily, before turning sharply on her heel and limping after Henry. Her body protested at the abrupt movement, but she ignored it for the time being.

“To je to, co jsem si, že se snaží pomoci tvrdohlavý osina v zadku,” she muttered under her breath. “Stupido, stupido ragazzo. Con uno stupido, stupido piano d'attacco. Προφανώς ήμουν απλά έπρεπε να τον αφήσει πίσω. Αφού είχε προσπαθήσει να σταματήσει ένα ρομπότ με το πρόσωπό του.” She was switching between languages completely unawares, but she was tired, and hurt; and when she was tired and hurt she tended to stop thinking entirely in

[swiftargyros]

Pietro manfully ignored Wanda's multilingual hysterics (as if he'd been the one not using his head and taking advantage of the distraction as a way to escape) and easily caught up with the pair, falling into step beside Hank. He thought it best to give his female compatriot a little space to cool off before she decided to try and one-up the Sentinel. There was no spare time for or point in getting involved in a petty back-and-forth about who had done what

[donotmockme]

The car was the sort you'd expect to see from a man in black, a newer model Lincoln with almost nothing impressive about it to note. Simple interior, boring exterior and a license plate that stank of government issue. It had been his baby back when he was with the CIA, a present to himself to fit in and stop riding his bike whenever necessary to travel. He still rode one of course, but for a trip to and from the city, the old Lincoln was his best bet.

"Last time?" Hank asked briefly, having thrown the excess materials in the trunk before climbing in the driver's seat. He waited for the other two to get in before speaking again, regarding them both with a curious eye.

"Best we wait to talk about that until we get back to the Mansion. Best we wait to talk about most things." He jerked his thumb to the back, indicating the machine parts. "They might be situated with microphones that I missed.

[chaosmagus]

Wanda was rapidly coming to the realisation that if she spent much more time around Pietro alone that things would possibly come to blows at some point. She liked him, she really did, but his mindset was so frustratingly traditional and... and ANTIQUATED that it pissed her off immensely sometimes. She found herself missing HOWARD, of all people, because for all his genius billionaire playboy attitude he didn’t take her for something less or place the blame for something on her head just because she was a woman. He seemed to like that she was intelligent and that she didn’t take his bullshit

[swiftargyros]

A little startled, Pietro cast a surreptitious look back at the trunk. It hadn`t even occured to him that there might be recording equipment within the shrapnel but it made sense. There was obviously some kind of information relay system and it made no sense if it was a centralized exchange, one that required the sentinel`s to return to a specific location in order to report. That sort of technology...that required a lot of cash flow to develop and produce. It didn`t bode well for them. A wary sense of trepidation gnawed at Pietro`s gut and he wondered just what kind of threat they were really up against

[donotmockme]

There were times that Hank could perceive everything. Have that rare spark of genius in people to see how every piece of the puzzle fit, including several that came from a different box. He could be that sort of man that people refuse to believe exist outside of crime TV shows and detective novels.

This was not one of those times.

So wrapped up in the current components of the machine, and what it could imply- Hank had completely missed the fact that the girl next to him was bleeding, as well as the coppery stench that followed the red. "There should be a first aid kit behind one of the seats, we'll fix the rest when we get there." His eyes were set on the road, and did not give the impression of a man willing to talk as his speedometer rose higher and higher as they hit the highway.

[chaosmagus]

Wanda huffed a tired laugh. She had hoped neither of them would notice, at least not until they got to this Mansion of Henry’s. The capital M was practically audible in his voice; what was this place? Where was he taking them? It didn’t really matter; it was a little late to change their minds, and they did need medical attention. Pietro did, at least. He hit solid metal at a high rate of speed. She was just a little battered. A bit of gauze and she’d be right as rain

[swiftargyros]

Bending down made the world spin but there was no other way to rescue the slim metal case emblazoned with a large red cross, jammed snugly beneath the passenger seat. Pietro mumbled a creative string of expletives in a muddled, regional bastardization of his native language as the drumming behind his eyelids went into double tempo. His father would have belly laughed at the sheer ingenuity of the cursing and probably stored it away for his own use later. They were a generous family in that respect, sharing the triumphs of one another.

His long fingers moved with slow deliberation as he unclasped the hinge holding the lid down and lifted it, revealing a neat assortment of basic medical gear. Pietro squinted at the various sundries, prodding at square edges of sterile packs and soft bundles of gauze before he found what he was looking for. He tugged the little antiseptic wipe in it's plastic packet out and leaned forward, tapping Wanda on the shoulder with it.

"Ovde. Biti ljut na mene, a ne glavom," Pietro said, letting the wipe

[donotmockme]

Hank did not say anything else for the rest of the trip, though he did start to catalog the known features of the newest recruits. There was no doubt that the boy was Serbian, he spoke with too perfect of an accent, and the girl? She may have been, but she didn't carry herself in the same manner as the boy.

They cared about each other's welfare, but not in the manner of lovers- family perhaps? He would have to run some tests, there was no question about that.

Many, many tests.

[chaosmagus]

Wanda glanced back in surprise as something poked her in the shoulder. It was Pietro with an antiseptic wipe. She almost smiled as he dropped it into her lap and followed it with gauze and tape. Rolling her eyes in amusement she gathered the items in her lap. “Нисам љут на тебе, идиоте.,” she told him quietly. “Могли бисте да су постали сами убили, то је све.”

Her fingers were slick against the plastic packet of antiseptic wipes, and it took several long, fumbling moments before she was able to tear it open. Successful at last, she pressed it to the cut disappearing back into her hairline, hissing at the sting.

Henry was rather quiet, and she appreciated it. It gave her a moment to gather herself, and start cataloguing her injuries as well as paying attention to where they were going. She could help but wonder if this was going to end up being a bad idea. It’s just temporary, she reminded herself tiredly.

[swiftargyros]

The upholstery of the Lincoln was cool against the bare patches of Pietro's skin - his palms, the pale stripe of an ankle where his trouser leg had hitched up, the pulse point on his wrist when he let his arm dangle down into the footwell. It was a comforting anchor to the passing scenery, a point of focus that Pietro held onto through the fuzzy maw of his headache. There was a vicious ache in the right side of his face. When he brushed the back of his knuckles against the skin, it felt soft and infused with water, swollen indelicately. It probably looked a picture, too