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[ Medusa's long been used to addressing large crowds of people. How to keep her face perfectly unreadable is a matter of habit, now, even as her hair swirls and shifts over her shoulders and around her face. She doesn't want to be doing this, but there's no point in beating around the bush with subtlety either. She'll have to make her requests. ]

Fellow guests of the Moira, my name is Medusa. I am Queen of the Inhumans and New Attilan. I speak to you today to ask you for your help. It has been some time since I last found myself on this ship, but I do not know how long. It seems some of those I considered friends previously have departed. If any of those I knew still remain, if anyone can tell me how many months I have lost, and what I have missed, I would be glad to hear from you now.

[ This part's a little trickier. ]

In addition, if there are any who have heard of the Inhumans, or those we consider our allies— The Fantastic Four, the Avengers, the X-Men— I would like to speak with you. To speak with any who have even heard of them. It does not matter if we knew each other before. I imagine that many of you may not have heard of of the Inhumans, even though we know of you. This is... [ Only a moment's hesitation, her hair billowing out in thought— and then she refocuses, and continues. ] A complicated situation to explain. So I leave it to you to decide whether or not to come forward. If you do not, know that I will not seek you out. I have no desire to impose meaning and familiarity onto strangers. I will respect your privacy as I would want my own to be respected.

[ And this one, this one final long shot in the dark: ]

If you are an Inhuman, of any tribe or city— know that you can always come to me for aid. The time for petty and superficial differences has passed. We are one people, and as one people I will defend you and stand for you as I would any citizen of mine.

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I thought so. That seems to be the norm here.

[ Is that a good thing? It might be. The Wanda Maximoff she knew has had a deeply unhappy life. This woman is so much younger. ]

I find these conversations...difficult. [ Medusa doesn't like being at the disadvantage. She doesn't like the emotions they bring up. She doesn't like having to admit that they are difficult for her. ] Obviously from my perspective, we have met. I have known a Wanda Maximoff for many years, though never as young as you.

I'm sorry.

[She understands that. It had been an awful first few minutes until she'd been able to convince Peter that she really was Wanda Maximoff, just not his Wanda.]

Is that good? [She knows very little of the other Wanda, except that she is stronger, but there are probably few world leaders at home who would be comfortable in her presence.]

[ Medusa hesitates, a long ribbon of hair falling across her face for a moment as she considers her words. Certainly she doesn't feel threatened by the presence of Wanda Maximoff. Her husband could wipe out a city with one spoken word. But neither does Medusa have the spite— or the heart— to fully elaborate on the complicated history.

In the end, what she says is: ]

It is not bad. [ Which isn't adequate. She tries again: ] Just strange. We have all been at this so long in my world. Sometimes I forget how long.

[ Or she just feels the weight of all that time now, and what those years mean to her now. ]

Do you have a brother?

[ She can't be a mutant, this Wanda, but— there must be some similarities still. ]

[Wanda pales, visible even over the video feed, and something in her eyes closes off. That is the most unfair difference she knows of. The other Wanda has a family and she has...nothing.

She might not be so jealous if she knew the full truth.]

I did.

[There's a weight to her words that makes the meaning obvious. She did...but she lost him.]

[ Medusa never liked Pietro, not really. Her sister's husband was never good enough for Crystal, in Medusa's opinion. But she knows how she would feel if Crystal was taken for her, and that devastation produces empathy. ]

I am so sorry, Wanda.

[ And it's one of the few wholly sincere things she can say, as queen. There's little in her life she loves more than her sister. Only her son, and perhaps once her husband, eclipses such depth of feeling. To see Crystal dead— ]

I have a sister I love more than life itself. I understand what such a loss means.

Edited 2016-06-04 04:23 (UTC)

[She has heard this line before a thousand times, people who mean well but just can't understand. It would have been bad enough to lose one's twin but to actually feel the bond snap and his life slip away?

They will never understand that. And she wouldn't wish it on anyone.]

I hope you never lose her.

[Permanently, anyway. There's nothing anyone can do about this limbo of sorts they're stuck in.]

[ Here's an awkward moment of truth: how does one go about broaching the subject that in an alternate universe, her dead brother married Medusa's living sister? How does one offer any follow-up to such a devastating turn in the conversation? There's no consolation to be offered, and she can hardly try. ]

Do you like being an Avenger?

[ It's a question born of curiosity as much as the need to move the conversation elsewhere; this is hardly the time and place. ]

[Wanda, for her part, is grateful for the subject change. Because there's really nowhere else to go from there. She nods, expression still subdued from the dark turn this conversation just took.]

I like helping people.

That is what the Avengers try to do.

[ Except when they are meddling in other people's affairs. ]

That is how you know them, yes?

[Or she hopes they haven't been going in and screwing things up at least.]

I know them because my sister's husband was one of them, as she was for a time. I know them because it is impossible not to know them. They have a habit of making themselves known.

[ Because sometimes they go in and screw things up. And every time they meddle too much and try to even begin to tell the Inhumans what to do, you can bet the Inhumans get retaliatory very fast. ]

I know that they mean well.

[ It's just. If they could fuck up less sometimes. Or just go away, that would be great. ]