PSL; [ pump it up ]

[sorser]

[A portal opens, unleashing its contents into a stranger’s home: the once-Sorcerer Supreme, and a creature.

A dark, murky thing, with long tendrils that might be called limbs were they not constantly fluctuating in a state of obscured shadow. They twist and snarl with an ill-defined face marked by glowing eyes, untangling itself from the sorcerer who has given it chase for an unknown amount of time, but for so long it feels like an age. But the sorcerer—none other than Stephen Strange—slams into the ground hard enough to dizzy him for a few precious seconds, and the creature flings itself away. It rises up, rushes along the walls, knocking over furniture and picture frames, and rushes out the nearest doorway.]

Damn it.

[Stephen pushes himself to his feet, eyes barely taking the time to cast around and register where he is. The answer: he has no clue. It hardly matters, though — a creature like that, the very embodiment of nightmares, needs to be corralled as soon as possible. Away from this reality, or any other.

He exhales, ignoring the stinging cut across a cheekbone and the unsteadiness to his step, and gives chase.]

Comments

[sorser]

[He would’ve remarked he could have caught the bottle if he had known what was going through her head, but maybe a little bit of gratitude is needed that he needn’t rely on hand-eye coordination in his current state. At any rate, Stephen takes the bottle, opens it up and gives him a moment to down two of the pills. He snaps the cap back on, raising a brow at her sudden alarm.

Really, she’s worried about her Kindle, interrupting his intriguing spigot of newfound information about a so-called Witch King? This seems needlessly mundane, but he reminds himself that he was the one who crashed in, literally, to someone else’s home.]

Probably fell in-between the couch cushions. [Helpful. More helpful, though:] Here, let’s see.

[He casts a quick spell, with amber shining at his fingertips for just a moment, and everything small-ish that had rested on the floor floats upwards, mid-air so that they can see. Spot your Kindle in the mess, Amelia?]

[recluserose]

[ Her eyes scan the floating items, but no dice so far. ]

Ugh. Knowing my luck it got caught up in the spell to trap that thing.

[ She throws up her hands and shakes her head at Stephen. ]

Nothing so far. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have taken it with me to a monster fight.

[sorser]

Well, we’re not uncorking this— [He toes the wine bottle next to his foot, where it’s been set so he can deal with his wound and his headache.] —just so you can have something to read.

[This woman likes her books, it seems; not that… Stephen can judge… with his massive amount of books stowed away in the Sanctum, or the time he’s spent in Kamar-Taj’s library.]

Nose-in-a-book kind of person, I take it?

[recluserose]

Then I guess the demon will have a thrilling time with my literary selections for eternity.

[ It's definitely a joke, but there's a bite to it due to the irritation of losing an important item. She was just getting the hang of it too!

Amelia, with a grumpy metaphorical cloud over her head, sits back down on her sofa chair. Waving a hand so that two mugs of strong black tea appear, she takes one to drink and stew in. ]

I'll just get a new one. And yes, I teach AP Lit, so the books are my job.

[sorser]

[He’s definitely getting a grumpy vibe now, though maybe the e-reader was more important than he gave it credit for?]

I can buy you another one. That won’t be a problem, and you can just sync your purchases up to the cloud again.

[Though—] I thought you said you were on break.

[recluserose]

[ The offer to replace her Kindle makes her look up in surprise. For some reason, Amelia didn't peg Stephen as someone who would be willing to extend that sort of helpfulness. ]

I... would appreciate that. Very much.

[ Ah, said with equal amounts of gratefulness and confusion. She's good at it. Taking another sip to gather her bearings, she shrugs again. ]

It's currently the two week winter break for the school I work at. I spent most of it grading late papers and lesson prepping.

[ She tilts her head at Stephen. ]

If you were a neurosurgeon before than you'd kind of get it. You may have a "break" but you're actually finding yourself working on another task in the meanwhile.

Though, as a fellow magic practitioner, that may typically apply as well.

[ Or maybe she works too much, that is also possible. ]

[sorser]

[Mental note: purchase a new Kindle and send it her way. It’s added to the list of things he needs to tend to, but it’s easy enough, and slotted near the top. Stephen might not appear thoughtful, or even empathetic at first, but the opposite has always been true.

Though, at her assessment, he cannot help but scoff.]

I never get a break. There’s always something threatening my reality, and it’s my responsibility to make sure terrible things don’t come to pass. As you can imagine, that keeps people like me busy.

[Or maybe Stephen also works too hard, but such is the life of one labeled a “hero” back home. He makes no comment about his past life as a neurosurgeon, though — all the luxuries he afforded himself, spending money as fast as he could make it, indulging in the spotlight of progress even when he was working, has no place in this conversation with a stranger.]

[recluserose]

That's fair. It would be difficult to take your attention away from a duty like that.

[ Though she described the fabric of reality on this side as "tenuous" it appears that his side had much more active forces running amok as opposed to the simmering and sinister powers that bubbled beneath the surface here. ]

... All that being said, you look like and are probably feeling like a mess so maybe taking a quick break before you return wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for you.

[sorser]

Do I look that bad?

[Worse for wear, certainly. But he has to have enough gas left in the tank to return sooner rather than later. It feels… odd, to just sit and converse with a witch in her abode, while a nightmare monster remains bottled up in glass at his feet.]

I’ll stay, but only because I promised help with the clean-up. I’m not just going to sit and—

[He rises to his feet here, pushing himself up with a wince.]

—linger like I own the place.

[recluserose]

A wise man once told me after I had one too many drinks...

[ Amelia pauses as she watches him stand up, brows raised incredulously when he winces at the effort.

And without wasting another beat: ]

"You look like shit."

[ You see, at some point , and she's not sure when, Amelia has given into the elderly urge if not giving a fuck (but not in front of the high school kids, she's a proper adult for them so shhh.) ]

[sorser]

[w o w

The honesty is flung back sardonically.]

Thanks. Still doesn’t mean I have time to waste in another reality other than my own. Wong’s probably getting impatient by now…

[Straightening properly, forcing any sign of pain off of his features.]

So let’s just get this over with, shall we?

[recluserose]

[ Like calls to like, she supposes.

Amelia sweeps one arm towards the hallway. ]

Choose any door except the first one for a room to rest in. The hallway goes on forever so my suggestion is to not tire yourself out trying to go any further than necessary.

[sorser]

Right.

[Stooping low with the rigid intent of not falling over, Stephen picks up the wine bottle by the neck and straightens again. He accepts her description of an endless hallway like a man who also lives in a very magical, sometimes nonsensical, home.]

What’s behind door number one?

[He assumes it’s just her bedroom, or some other private space, but he has to ask.]

[recluserose]

The Forbidden Chamber.

[ She's saying this in an extremely neutral tone of voice as she gathers some books to reorganize on the shelves. ]

[sorser]

[An eyebrow rises, trying to suss out whether or not she’s being serious or utterly sarcastic.

Hard to say.]

And the Forbidden Chamber is forbidden because…? Best to satiate my curiosity while you can, before I go exploring places I shouldn’t.

[recluserose]

...

...

...

It's just my bedroom.

[ GOD SHE WAS JUST TRYING TO JOKE. Embarrassment in the form of redness is flooding her cheeks so she's glad her back is turned to him, cue the internal screaming of AAAAaaaahhhhHHHHHHHhhhh. ]

Please don't go exploring that.

[sorser]

[Pfft. Stephen figured as much, but her reaction is nearly as golden as the unraveling of her attempted joke. He cracks a smile at it, clearly amused — even if it is a little bit at her expense.]

Forbidden is right. Don’t worry, I don’t go perusing a host’s bedroom without a very good reason.

[He’ll spare her of any more embarrassment, though, turning towards the hallway and holding up the wine bottle in temporary acknowledgement.]

I only need an hour or two. I’ll be back out soon, so don’t work too hard while I’m gone.

[It doesn’t take long before he disappears down the hall, and though he is tempted to see just how forever long the corridor goes, eventually he stops and picks one at random to enter.]

[recluserose]

[ While Amelia is chugging the rest of her booze tea, the room Stephen finds is nicely furnished and cozy, almost like a prepared hotel room, but without the sterility and uniformity.

She decides to just go back to her library before passing by Stephen with one question to ask. ]

By the way, about that demon in a bottle. We don't have to worry about mental interference due to its proximity, do we?

[sorser]

[It’s nice. He’s slept in worse places, for certain, and the bed looks especially compelling to his tired bones. But Stephen spares a glance at Amelia as she passes by.]

It’s sealed up nice and tight, and it isn’t nearly the danger that it was before. But it is a nightmare demon, and there’s no getting around the influence of being near one.

[It’s more a concept than a living, breathing thing. To share its space means to imbibe its influence, whether or not one is aware.]

Unfortunately, we won’t know just what it’s jumbled up in our sleep until we do just that — sleep. But that’s my problem right now, not yours, and I can live with it for the time being.

So as long as you’re not about to run off and take a power nap, you’re fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be gone before it becomes a problem for you.

[recluserose]

[ Amelia frowns dubiously at his explanation while fiddling idly with her necklace. ]

... I might have to make a checkup around town then. You and I may have some resistance or some sort of protection against mental attacks, but the others are probably more sensitive to it.

[ Despite her dry and frigid words, and behaving as if everything is a mild inconvenience, Amelia just. Cares a lot. She cares about others, more than she cares about herself sometimes. ]

[sorser]

[Stephen exhales. It isn’t a bad idea, though he does think it’s perhaps a bit unnecessary — he did mean it when he said this demon possesses no more danger, confident in the magical seal he’s encased it within.]

And what are you going to tell people? ‘Hello, I’ve just caged up a nightmare entity and I was just wondering if you’ve been feeling any adverse effects during your noontime napping sessions’?

[recluserose]

[ Shooting him a look with narrowed eyes, she replies back. ]

Believe it or not, and by some miracle, I'm well-liked enough around town. It's not out of the question for me to just ask people how they've been. You know.

[ Amelia waves her mug around to punctuate her point. ]

Like a good neighbor? That's absolutely normal.

[sorser]

[Skepticism rising, rising—]

I’ve been in this world for, what? Forty-five minutes if we’re being generous. Do you really think my magic is full of so many holes that people are already writhing in their waking hours with sleep-related trauma?

[It pokes at his pride, a creature unto itself he’s learned to tame over the years, but Stephen is tired. Offense comes more easily when the implication is that he’s doing a poor job at his, well, job.]

I know what I’m doing.

[recluserose]

You'd be surprised at how keen people's senses are here even if they're not magically inclined.

[ There are the espers to contend with and sometimes a big event can awaken sleeping abilities. Amelia leans against the wall, stubbornly crossing her arms. ]

It's not so much the aftermath as the arrival that might have caused a ripple effect. Normally if that was entirely contained in my house, I wouldn't have concerns.

Anyways, I'm not making you walk around with me. Once you rest up and return, I'll contact you somehow about whether we're in the clear or not.

[sorser]

[This time, he can’t quite hold back the sigh. Offense or otherwise, it’s hard to make the argument that she’s being unreasonable; only cautious, which is not a trait that he can look down upon with any real sincerity.]

Fine. I’ll be here, and so will this.

[He sets the bottle down on the nightstand close to the bed, once he crosses into the room. It might be strange to sleep with a nightmare fiend bottled up right next to where he’s going to rest his head, but proximity won’t matter in an enclosed space like a bedroom. If there are consequences, he’s at least prepared to deal with them.]

If for some reason you do run into trouble, come get me first. If it’s related to my presence, I may know how to better deal with it.