Some Say the World Will End in Fire

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro sat out on the grounds with a bottle of vodka, mostly empty. At moments like these, he wished for slower metabolism, so he could lose control, if only once, to forget the stresses around him.

The day had been infuriating, and now, in the night, past the curfew, he was alone trying to unwind. Nothing had worked. Worse than the stress was the waiting. The agonizingly slow passage of time between this moment and when Wideawake would attack. He wanted it to happen now, to be done with it. To kill them all or die in the process.

He heaved a sigh, took another sip from his bottle, and stared at the moon, watching it in the sky. Calm, unaware that destruction was nearly upon the earth it watched so silently.::

[Wanda Maximoff]

Wanda was walking out on the grounds; it was colder out now, and she couldn't find Pietro anywhere inside the mansion. His usual places were empty, the library, the gym, or even one of the parlors...he was nowhere to be found. Wanda hugged her jacket to her and kept looking.

There, she saw him. The moonlight hit his silver hair and pale, making him look almost...ethereal. He was clutching something...a bottle. "Pietro?" She called, walking closer.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro dropped his gaze from the moon to his sister's scarlet coat. Were he in an even slightly sardonic mood, he would raise the vodka in toast. Instead, he merely nodded, gazed, let her know he had heard her.::

[Wanda Maximoff]

She frowned in concern, coming to sit next to him. "What are you doing out here, Pietro?"

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro raised the bottle, not in toast, but merely to show her what it was. His answer was a simple word.:: "Drinking."

[Wanda Maximoff]

She frowned, noticing the label and the brand of vodka on the bottle. "Why are you sitting out here, drinking?"

[Pietro Maximoff]

"I am not allowed to drink in the mansion," ::Pietro replied. He shifted his position, moved slightly to make room for her to join him.::

[Wanda Maximoff]

She sat next to him. "Why are you drinking, period?" She asked, even more concerned than before.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro inwardly debated what to say to her. He could not lie to her, and yet, he did not want to have this discussion. Holding the bottle towards her, offering a sip of the fiery liquid.:: "You will not like the answer."

[Wanda Maximoff]

She sighed, and took the bottle, but did not take a sip yet. "I would like to hear it regardless, Pietro."

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro leaned back on both his hands, glanced into the distance, then back at his sister.:: "I think my death will be excruciating."

[Wanda Maximoff]

She looked at him, worried. "And why do you say that?" Looking back at the bottle, she decided this would be a long conversation, and took a sip. It burned her throat, but was still, in it's own way, pleasurable.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro's eyes fell on his sister's, debating the best way to explain. There was his hyper-perception of his body, how he would know not only the pain of the injury and of losing his life, but would feel it acutely. Then there was his perception of time.:: "It will take an eternity."

[Wanda Maximoff]

"I think that's what many would say in regards to death..." she said slowly. "Because not every method of death is quick and painless." Not that she knew what it was like.

[Pietro Maximoff]

"Nothing is quick, not to me," ::Pietro said simply. The quickest form of death to others would still be slow to him.::