1829/The Dangers of Thievery

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The Dangers of Thievery
Date of Scene: 05 August 2017
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Quicksilver, Scarlet Witch




Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro awaits his sister on the steps of the museum, pacing irritably and barely maintaining a human pace at the habit. He doesn't particularly care if he startles the mundane, but attention might not be the wisest in this situation, given their already notorious history.

He's clad impeccably in a dark green suit, pinstriped and cinched with an elegant black tie, his black loafers shining on every step. His white hair, perpetually windswept, draws away from his brow, a few loose strands spilling across his forehead. His brow bears thunderclouds, anger and resentment clear on his features. But then, such is almost always the case.

He throws down a cigarette he'd been smoking, an old European habit he tried to quit, usually unsuccessfully. Pietro had never been good at denying himself. Wanda wasn't late yet, of course, she wouldn't leave him waiting. But then, he was always waiting.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
    Wanda's had a pretty good day, so far, and it's already afternoon! Given her history, that's a win in her book. She's been kept pretty busy with cleaning the city of objects tainted with a murderous enchantment that has already claimed at least twenty lives, the true total unknown, at this point. So, when Pietro asked her to meet him at the museum, she felt she was due a break. She likes museums, as the past is always fascinating to her. And, when she can visit one outside of some ancient artifact being activated and she has to throw all her concentration into saving lives, she relishes it.

    She checks her appearance in the mirror once to make sure she's presentable after her last task -- green eyes, check, dark brown hair, check, nothing creepy clinging to her, check. She's good to go, and go she does! When she arrives at the museum, she sees Pietro in his suit, pacing. Flicking a cigarette away. She smiles and shakes her head. She could easily break his habit with her talents, but she only ever offered once, letting him know it's a standing offer. He's yet to take her up on it, but she doesn't press. She's wearing a light grey pair of capri pants, a flowy, silky tank top, some strappy heels, and a smile as she ascends the stairs to catch up with Pietro. "Rom," she greets him warmly, encasing him in a hug. "I trust I'm not late."

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro Maximoff returns his sister's embrace, tilting his head to brush his lips along her cheekbone in a kiss of greeting, "Romni," he murmurs warmly. Only she ever hears that particular tone of his voice. While there are many who claim the title of ice queen among mutantkind, Pietro is a rare ice prince and he thaws only in the presence of his twin.

"I trust you have been keeping busy. Nothing too troublesome in the occult realm," he says with a flicker of disapproval. He understood that magic and mystery wrapped around his sister like creeper vines, but he felt they sometimes dragged her down.

"Regardless, something of interest to us here today," he says, nodding towards the museum. "The anthropology sevtion ids having an exhibit regarding diaspora: Russian, Jewish...and Romani," he says. "There are artifacts from Wundagore. I thought, perhaps, it best if you laid an eye. One never knows what the unwary might place in a case and tie with a bow."

Scarlet Witch has posed:
    Wanda presses her cheek into the kiss and returns it with one of her own, stroking his face with her hand as she withdraws from the embrace, her thumb ensuring none of her lipstick transfers to his cheek. At his statement, she laughs and nods, "I'm surviving, rom. Don't worry." She, of course, knows what Pietro thinks of her steeping in all things mystical. He's been very vocal about it during some of the worst of times.

    She links her arm with his as they head toward the multiply double-doored entrance, listening as he explains the reason he asked her there. She lifts her brows and leans in to whisper to him. "Are you.. How do you know they're from Wundagore? Yes, definitely. We've gotta be sure nothing unexpected happens to these poor, unsuspecting people," she breathes.

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro Maximoff can feel a few eyes upon them, some people mistaking them for a couple, others seeing the sibling resemblance. He slides his arm around her waist, keeping her close as they make their way inside, enabling him to keep his voice pitched low enough for only her ears.

"Because I am not a fool and I know how to read between the lines," he says. "I would not have brought you here if I were not certain," he says. Given her troubled history, the last thing he wants to do is stir anything up - but he also cannot deny their responsibility in the matter.

"Hopefully, the artifacts will be harmless, just the junk and leavings of caravans long past. Folk art and superstition," he says. He doesn't sound as if he believes it, though. He's always been a pessimist.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
    Wanda nods to his words, smiling a little wryly at his comment about not being a fool. "As though I've ever said you're a fool," she murmurs, but low and with no intention of interrupting him. She casts her eyes over the people around them, doing a general scan of their auras to ensure that no one with ill-intent is milling amongst the innocent. Should there be someone who means others harm, the wickedness within them would flare an intense red aura, separating them from the usual blues, greens, yellows, and so on.

    "I hope for everyone's sake that you're right," she agrees, but she has a tightness that's settled itself in her shoulders that shows her she's feeling as pessimistsic as Pietro usually does. She keeps step with him with ease, the brisk, but manageable pace he adopts when walking around others, her heels' clacking on the museum's floors all but lost in the general buzz of an open museum with a new exhibit.

Quicksilver has posed:
Perhaps unsurprisingly, historical exhibits about foreign cultures in distant lands aren't the largest draw for tourists in a place that sports a wooly mammoth and a few dinosaur skeletons. The kiddies won't go anywhere near this particular section of the anthropology wing, usually not getting much past the cavemen at the entrance.

The section in question is a series of glass cases along with a few wall hangints. Draped cloth, shawls and veils, hang on hooks, their colors faded over hundreds of years. IN the cases, beadwork and carvings, charms and wardings. Wanda will immediately see a few invocations of the evil eye.

One particular item, however, stands out: a vase in the shape of a male figure, carved in onyx or volcanic glass, green-gem eyes glittering in a malignant expression. It clutches a fat belly and promises to be very full of something.

The aura around it is certainly anything but pure.

"Romni?" Pietro murmurs in her ear, as if snapping Wanda back to reality. A few moments will have passed in silence, seemingly in the blink of an eye.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
    Wanda can sense it before she can even see it. Her grip on Pietro's arm tightens as she locks in on it, her green eyes meeting its green eyes. She watches it intently, seeing what she can divine about it based only on what she sees.

    When Pietro calls to her, she starts slightly, her breath catching in her throat and laughter bubbling out afterward. "Sorry. Yeah, you were definitely right," she says in a slightly shaken, but quickly regaining normalcy tone of voice. She lifts a finger and points out the offending artifact through the glass. "That's the one," she says, taking a slow, grounding deep breath, shifting her red jeweled headdress -- currently in the form of a headband -- atop her head.

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro Maximoff takes a quick glance around, absorbing their surroundings. He may not have practiced much as a sneakthief since his youth but, between his abilities and his natural talents, he's not so out of practice that he can't lift something if he likes. Hell, he could have it out of the building before the dust settled on the pedestal.

But.

"Is it safe to touch?" he says. "Removing it could cause as much trouble as leaving it be," he says.

Wanda can feel something conscious within the statue, something that seems to sense her presence. There's a throbbing, pulsing force there that seems to flare a bit as she attends it, a dim light starting to luminesce in the depths of its jeweled eyes.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
    Wanda grabs Pietro's hand and holds it tightly, as though to stay even the thought in his head as she says, maybe a skosh louder than she'd have preferred, "No, rom, don't touch it. Definitely don't touch it." The coiling sensation that she gets from the object is troubling. Just her being there, noticing it, is somehow giving it power. "We need to get it out of here, though. I think it's waking up," she says in a lower voice.

    Now, her identity as the Scarlet Witch is almost 100% separate from her identity as Wanda Maximoff -- Pietro excluded, naturally, along with precious few others. So, for a brief moment, she sort of wishes her twin had warned her it might be a Scarlet Witch situation, so she could've properly prepared... However, it's not as though she's unable to quickly change without notice and handle business as she needs to do.

    So, gathering the reins of her powers, she breathes a silent spell of cloaking over herself and Pietro, for the sake of privacy. To others, even over recording devices, they appear as two individuals that are similar enough in appearance to not call attention to them. Meanwhile, Wanda transforms her attire and, thus, herself into that enchanting woman best known the Scarlet Witch! Her jeweled headdress draped elegantly atop her dark, lustrious hair as she narrows her eyes at the object. "I'm thinking I'll provide you with a special container for it, you can run it over to the Sanctum Santorum, and I'll create a replica to put in its place," she says, looking to her brother. "What do you think?"

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro Maximoff looks back and forth between his sister and the looming threat of the vase, "I think I'd better clear out any of the nearby civilians. Just in case," he says.

He moves in a blink, the world slowing for him as he gives into his urge for speed. It's like relaxing a muscle for him, the opposite of exertion. It was slowing down that took work, being present. Going fast was as simple as breathing.

In seconds, a dozen tourists find themselves suddenly outside, gathered around a tree next to a fountain in the shape of a leaping dolphin, the spray at least cooling them on this hot day.

And Pietro hopes, by the time he's done, that his sister will have successfully bound that...whatever it is...so that he can put it somewhere for safekeeping.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
    Wanda smiles and nods to her brother as he lets her know what he plans to do, "That's for the best, certainly. Thank you, darling." Then, before she's even finished the last syllable of her sentence, he's gone. She inhales deeply and centers herself, sending up prayers of petition for help and guidance from Gaea and Oshtur as she prepapres to handle the dangerous object.

    She calls upon some of her less common spells, the words arcane and eldritch slipping from between her lips and causing reality to shift and bend to her desire. She summons up a harmless object of similar size and weight, something that's not too difficult to use for a base for her doppelganger spell. Her hands move in intricate patterns, the magickal lightshow intensifying as she begins weaving her next, far more intricate spell.

    Hovering in the air before her, next to the object inside the glass case, she forms as perfect a replica of the artifact, from outward appearances, as possible. Once she's completed the doppelganger ritual, she lets the fake slowly lower to the bottom of the case, next to its malevolent counterpart. She then turns her attention to picking a container strong enough to keep the evil of the object bound for safe transport. The Black Box of Bunuandu should suffice. So, her fingers forming impossible shapes, her arms moving in the Kamar-Taj tradition's sweeping, precise motions, she opens a portal to the spot she knows the Black Box of Bunuandu to be within the Sanctum Santorum. Sticking her hand in, she draws it out, opening it up and holding it out for Pietro to take for the next step.

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro takes the next step, the next dozen, before she can blink her eye. His hands grasp the Black Box, securing it and tucking it under his arm. He knows the way to the Sanctum, of course, although it's across the city and through a dozen lines of jammed traffic. He weaves between the cars with an almost amused smirk. He wonders what it must be like for them. Poor humans in their cars, like hamsters trapped in their wheels, going nowhere fast.

Not so very fast as he though. He maneuvers just into the part of the Sanctum he can manage, not penetrating the innermost wards for fear of tripping something he doesn't quite understand. This should be secure enough, he hopes.

And in a flash, he's dashing again and back to the museum, appearing next to Wanda and straightening his tie. "You need a new air freshener."

Scarlet Witch has posed:
    She barely has time to blink before her twin has taken the box and is off and running, taking it to safety. She smiles softly and, breathing the concealment spell she uses so often, she changes back to her previous outfit, the headdress reverting back to her jeweled headband. By the time Pietro's back, Wanda's just ensuring that the replica is in the right spot before she drops the concealment spell.

    Turning to him with a look, she lifts a brow and grins, "Oh, really? You don't like the one I've got, or the Sloths of Slogoth have stunk the place up, again?" She exhales, "I told Stephen we need to relocate them. They truly are foul-smelling creatures, no matter their magnificent magical properties."

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro Maximoff wrinkles his nose, "I'm hoping the former. I don't want to know what a Sloggoth is. And neither is that an invitation for you to tell me," he says. "I recognize the value in knowledge, but often I'd just as well remain ignorant. It has served me well thus far and I would like to stick to my unenchanted path," he says.

He takes her hand then, "Now that the unholy has been attended to, would you, perhaps, care to partake of some dinner after browsing the museum? I have a standing invitation at Le Dauphin after saving the head chef from a rather brisque encounter with a well-armed valet," he says.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
    Wanda laughs and runs fingers through her hair, making sure it falls just right. "Slogoth," she corrects with a grin, but doesn't go into further detail. "But, of course, rom. Your wish is my command," she bows like Barbara Eden as Genie. She smiles, again, at the invitation, "You know, some dinner sounds fantastic right about now. I don't think I ate lunch, I was so busy. Let's, shall we?" she says in a playfully prissy manner, skipping beside him as they exit the now-practically-empty museum. Crisis averted. No lives lost. It's a win! And, now, they're just two civilians, making their way about their day. Nothing to see here. Enjoy your day.