There's no point in denying she's made the most of it. Wanda has nowhere else to go. After what transpired throughout the Multiverse, Wanda is homeless. There's no Vision, no boys, no Pietro. No Sokovia. She has no place except to be buried beneath the rubble. Despite the tensions in Rubilykskoye that emerge from time to time and the troubles she's wandered and magicked herself into, she wants to make it work here.
That's why she doesn't bristle. Wanda doesn't look away, either—if Jessica's searching for a fissure in her composure, she won't find it.
"It's no different to how I was treated before. I may have been clothed, but I was still humiliated. Here, people aren't as afraid of me. Nowhere is perfect; it's what you make of it."
no subject
There's no point in denying she's made the most of it. Wanda has nowhere else to go. After what transpired throughout the Multiverse, Wanda is homeless. There's no Vision, no boys, no Pietro. No Sokovia. She has no place except to be buried beneath the rubble. Despite the tensions in Rubilykskoye that emerge from time to time and the troubles she's wandered and magicked herself into, she wants to make it work here.
That's why she doesn't bristle. Wanda doesn't look away, either—if Jessica's searching for a fissure in her composure, she won't find it.
"It's no different to how I was treated before. I may have been clothed, but I was still humiliated. Here, people aren't as afraid of me. Nowhere is perfect; it's what you make of it."