by Nailah Weaver » Tue Jun 06, 2017 10:39 pm
"Wait so Youseff's murder has to do with Wanda? And blowing up the sun?" Nailah frowns and almost immediately the old woman could tell that up until now Nailah hadn't really been tapping into her power. The threads around her light up as she seems to brush her fingers over them like the shuttle on a loom, each one whispering in ethereal sing-song until she finds one that does in fact lead to the light remaining in the world. But while she somehow found it by the lone criteria of foiling Youseff's murderer's plans she seems blind to the thread itself or the path it takes from there. Unlike Nailah though, the old Weaver can see more of it. Like flashes all the steps are laid out in front of her.
A pharmacists handing Nailah a bag of relatively benign medicine. A handful of cotoneaster berries and a bushel of nightshade. Crush pills into cough syrup, heat, stir, cool off, add dried herbs, reduce, combine paste with berries, leave overnight. Go to the kitchen. Move a pot from one stove to another on the way in. Talk to Emilie. Wait for the pot that's now boiling over to distract her. Add the paste to the third bowl of salad she was prepping. Leave. Wanda's thread shrivels up into nothing.
And further down Nailah's own thread an older, bitter version of her is whispering instructions down through time. She knows what has to be done. What has to be the right thing. The thing she had to do and can't afford to question now. It's the answer to the question that was asked and the end justifies the means; a conclusion she was forced to draw when she followed those steps herself. A self-fulfilling destiny. All to simply delay the inevitable darkness she steered herself towards in Wanda's place...
But here and now Nailah has a cocky smirk on her face and all Sam can sense is the strange feeling of massive deja-vu rippling out from Nailah as the subconscious memories of an older Nailah settle on the blond sphinx.
![Image](http://i.imgur.com/CfrxSQ9.png)