۞ Like What's Up Neighbour

[timestones]

WHO: Stephen Strange and MF #005 roomies/you?
WHERE: Maurtia Falls and around
WHEN: November, before the world ends
WHAT: Stephen, getting settled in
WARNINGS: Nothing so far.

Closed to Maurtia Falls #005

For most people, arriving somewhere at the end of the world would be a pretty bad day, all in all. But Stephen's seen a lot of stuff lately that there's something almost refreshing about appearing in another world's End Game. At least he's in the right mindset for it.

What is evident to Stephen is that he needs to get to work. There's a lot of ground to cover in a very short space of linear real-time.

When he arrives at the apartment he's been delegated, Stephen (and his cloak) take a brief glance around just to get a general sense of the layout, but after that Stephen makes short work of settling himself on the floor, cross-legged with his device and Time Stone, to get to work, creating a steady loop of time to enable him to go through the network in 15 minute bursts of reading. It's jolting work and each time it takes him longer to get back to the point he started reading from.

Anyone wandering in while he's in the middle of his work is likely to catch him looking a bit like a two frame looping gif, very slight twitching every fraction of a second.

Finally, Stephen doesn't have enough time in his loop to catch up to his mental network bookmark and breaks the effect, slumping with a deep sigh as he rubs his eyes. Some decent headway has been made, but he'll need to start the loop over.

Oh. There's someone there.

"Hi," he offers mildly, dropping his hand to look up, "Guess you'd be one of my roomies, huh?"

Wildcard.

[Come at me with something random, or hit me up on my OOC intro / Kralkatorrik if there's a specific place you'd like to meet Stephen and we can hash out some ideas for a starter :) ]

Comments

Around Mauritia Falls - Let me know if this works~

[tricksterofasgard]

Well, yes. This world may be ending, as some of the residents liked to be claiming all over the network, but that doesn't mean that Loki necessarily cares about that. He hasn't come here by choice and doesn't much enjoy his stay so far. Neither can he leave. The end of this realm might very well open opportunities for him to do just that and potentially head to some other planet, so... No. He isn't exactly bothered by that idea. Or planning to assist in any way with any of the endeavors planned to prevent this planet's allegedly upcoming doom.

He's still around, however. Around and for the most part minding his own business and avoiding social interaction as much as possible. Which has become a lot easier by moving out of the place he initially has been assigned to and quitting his ridiculous job. He doesn't need that job - Or the company of pesky strangers. Or of anyone, for the matter.

Despite all that he still doesn't spend a lot of time alone in his new apartment, but rather roams Mauritia Falls and sometimes De Chima. Today it's the first of the two cities. But the Asgardian is less roaming around rather than simply sitting cross-legged on a wall not too far from his new living space. A cup of coffee sits next to him on the wall and his attention is every once in a while drifting to the various beings passing by. For the most part his attention is stuck to a small, colorful cube that he fidgets with, quite intent on solving the little puzzle.

Though despite how captivating the small toy may be, even Loki can't help but take note of the oddly dressed man appearing from between two buildings. Clearly an imPort. Potentially another hero set out to save this planet. Such short-sighted goals...

Loki returns his attention to his cube, head tilting slightly to one side and going back to working on its solution.

Glorious!

[timestones]

Yes, the world may be ending, but even Stephen knows in the midst of all the time-sensitive research he's doing, that breaks to decompress and digest the information is vital. The mind and body work together, so if he is stretching the limits of the former, then he needs to also stretch the latter.

Plus, if all goes well, there might be some of this universe left at the end of it all, and if that's the case then it can't hurt to familiarise himself with the local area. It's probably not the sort of city he'd directly opt for himself, very much the New Yorker at heart, but beggars and the interdimensionally kidnapped can't be choosers.

Sweeping down the streets of Maurtia Falls, Stephen is admittedly mostly just moving as he processes the information he currently has, not terribly focused on his overall surroundings. Until something pings Stephen's attention.

Sensing magical beings isn't like something on the wind or a mental buzzing sensation, it's far more ephemeral than that, pinging a difficult to identify place that initially took Stephen some time to get used to.

Turning his head toward the source of the feeling, Stephen's frown turns to mild surprise as he stops short to stare at the Asgardian and his toy.

"Loki of Asgard," he remarks evenly, without judgement, like he's commenting on the weather, "I'd say it's a small multi-verse, but--"

But it's more nuanced than that.

[tricksterofasgard]

One final turn and a click seals the fate of the colorful cube, its mystery solved and the chaotic mess it has been not too long ago brought back in order. For now, at least.

Loki contemplates the solved puzzle when his name catches his attention and he looks up, or rather down at the same human he has noticed shortly before. The man is a stranger, as many here are. A stranger that knows his name. Which also isn't entirely odd. But what now, that the man has gotten closer, is much more eye catching, is how he parades decorated around with ancient magical relics only briefly mentioned in some of the scrolls and books Asgard's vast library houses.

"And what are you." Loki responds, mildly interested, yet not enough to turn his words into a proper question.

He does lean forward a little however, earning himself a slightly better look, which results in a bit of a frown. His little cube still in hand, the Asgardian points down at the human - Or rather at what he is wearing around his neck.

"Also I direly hope this is but a rather peculiar fashion accessory.

[timestones]

Up, down, future, past, it's all relative and doesn't necessarily matter to Stephen and Loki is fully capable of looking down on him even if they're standing on level ground and eye to eye.

What are you. Interest almost-question, one that makes Stephen pause as his brow creases with initial confusion.

No rage. No indication of wounded pride. No lunged attempt to stab or strangle him.

Odd.

But it's also not fully a question, so Loki doesn't fully get an answer.

"Doctor Strange."

The who, rather than the what.

Then, the Asgardian comments on the item Stephen has vowed to defend to the death. Beyond, even. But instead of feeling a prickle of fear, the magician smiles as he glances down briefly.

"What, this?" He lifts his attention to Loki once again, "I always thought of it as rounding off the whole look. Everything works better with a nice time piece."

[tricksterofasgard]

Time piece. So this man knows precisely what he is carrying around. Another doctor, another stone. And Loki can't help but wonder just how close they have come to having four of the stones assembled in this realm. He simply raises a brow at the thought and decides for himself that fewer may be better than the opposite.

He simply nods once in understanding, yet opts not to pursue that detail at this very moment.

"A strange doctor, indeed." Is what Loki settles with in response at last, and even this is rather a comment than anything else.

He shifts enough to sit at the edge of his wall, hands in his lap and idly toying with the colorful piece of plastic while he observes the man below for another moment. There is an air of confidence about him. Maybe it's arrogance. Not that this is something Loki cares about. Other details are of more interest to him.

"You know of me." He says, simply stating that fact to set his base "But when do you fit in?"

A pause follows those words before the Asgardian rolls his eyes for a moment "And do you crave retribution for New York as well?"

[timestones]

Any conversation with Loki should be handled with caution and Stephen knows it and yet there's almost a compulsive response when it comes to issues and jokes that relate to his name. It's like a twitch in a nerve.

"No. Stephen. Doctor Stephen Strange."

It's a predictable stumble, dangerous even as it shows a brand of weakness, but immediately after Stephen sort of rolls his eyes with a small shake of his head.

There are more pressing matters. Like the confirmation that Loki, indeed, doesn't know him.

"I do know you, but New York was some years ago. For me."

[tricksterofasgard]

"Stephen?"

Well, that's a surprisingly strong reaction and even the Asgardian can't entirely hide that surprise. And there is that part at the back of his mind that perks up and immediately wishes to pick up on this opening. That odd pile of leftovers of that very part of him that just recently got stirred awake after being torn to pieces just knows what to do with such a reaction and the revelation of a vulnerability of this sort.

Loki considers ignoring it. Mostly because acknowledging it would mean to acknowledge that something is there. Something broken.

"So Stephen it is." Loki says just in time to not appear surprised for too long. He permits something to have some input.

"Stephen from the future." Giving that detail away won't harm him. This man has already admitted to being a future acquaintance of some sort or another.

The Asgardian inclines his head, raising a single brow "What do I have to expect from you? So far you have not punched me and your apparel of choice is not of the sort that depicts the Avengers in heroic poses." The last part comes with a faint shrug.

With his cube-shaped puzzle vanishing from his hand, Loki pushes himself off the wall to join the human on actual ground and uses his finger to point directly at Stephen's necklace "And then there is still this, of course."

[timestones]

Of course, Stephen now regrets having let himself get pulled into correction game because that is how Loki will probably continue to address him from here on until a follow-up correction is deployed. For now, he just has to weather it: he asked for it.

He's quiet as Loki muses through things aloud, calm and steady in spite of his earlier emotional uptick.

"I'm not an Avenger," he clarifies first, "But our work overlaps at times."

So far, the work has not actually included Loki. And, perhaps, never will. It's a strange kind of awareness to have, that the person standing in front of you is going to be a casualty of war in the future. And equally strange that this Loki isn't the one Stephen met and will change over time. And, most importantly, if the time period quoted is anything to go by, this is a Loki who is potentially really quite dangerous.

"Oh that?" he looks down at Loki's probing finger, knowing that if he makes contact or tries to take it that there will be a nasty little magic searing for his trouble. "I picked this up a little while ago from some shack out in Kathmandu when I went backpacking to find myself. Like it?"

[tricksterofasgard]

Oh, this is certainly what Loki will be calling the other man from now on. Italics and everything. Unbeknownst to even him, this decision will help the part of him that is still shattered recover from the damage.

But as far as consciously acquired knowledge goes, Loki nods briefly at the first bit of information. An associate of the Avengers. Which means Stephen has either been told of him or, like Peter and Quentin, has drawn his information from the various Midgardian news sources. Depending on however his impending punishment on Asgard will be, it’s unlikely that the human has actually met him in person. For all he knows, Odin might just do away with the rabid Frost Giant entirely.

He rolls his eyes mildly at Stephen’s words.

“You are toying with something dangerous, and I believe you know well what I mean by that, Stephen.” He says, withdrawing his hand without ever touching the amulet. It’s too obviously a trap, the guarding magic too clear of a warning.

۞ The Meadows - Kylo and Ronan

[timestones]

Kylo's offer to come by feels like progress. Very quick progress, all considered.

Stephen has no expectations about Kylo Ren or their mutual connection, especially in such a short space of time, but sense of time for Stephen is generally more hazy these days. Either way, Kylo Ren has no obligation to indulge Stephen on any level. And yet, he already has. He has trusted Stephen with incredibly personally sensitive experiences, things that clearly contribute to created wounded animals that snap and bite when approached by strangers. Stephen doesn't know Kylo Ren, or his partner, but already he has a sense that there's tremendous amount of complicated stuff going on here.

And it helps Stephen understand why they are motivated to bring the ends that they are considering. Not condone, but understand.

It's because he can appreciate it, understand it, that he knows the situation is delicate and volatile, something that needs a gentle touch and respect for damage. And Stephen has boundless respect for damage.

What he hasn't done for a while is get this world's version of an Uber. When you're used to opening your own forms of immediate transportation at any moment you want, it sort of spoils you for travel. But here he is, bumping around in the back seat of the car (cloak pressed up curiously against the window) along a comparatively less well-maintained road toward a farm. Of all places, a farm.

Immediately exiting the car, Stephen can feel magic. All around, threaded through the air, the trees, the grass. The area thrums with power, like music.

It makes Stephen just stop, close his eyes, let the sensation pass through him, and forget that every second is critical.

Just for a moment...

[photophobic]

"Incredible. Isn't it."

Kylo's voice punches through the transcendent beauty of that moment like blunt force trauma. Here he is: tall, broad and overpowered in every way he usually is, but there's something else, something new about him here, surrounded by dreamthings. The chaotic, writhing tangle of him is anchored to this place in a way that suggests something of him was born here. He isn't made of all this magic, no. But he belongs with it. To it. And right now? He's shot through with it, too. Light saturates his blood, somehow. Ripples under his skin.
Ronan, here with him as his strength.

He watches Stephen's face as if weighing something up, because he is— but the lightsaber clipped at his hip remains untouched. He glances back in the direction he came from, towards the overgrown chapel. The question was clearly rhetorical.

"Assuming you're actually here to talk."

[timestones]

Fortunately for all involved, Stephen isn't the jumpy sort.

Yes, Kylo is there, suddenly and think with presence like breathing in a lungful of volcanic steam on a frozen mountain, but it isn't an arrival that shatters the sensation Stephen has allowed to wash over and through him in this place; it's just part of it.

"Yes. It is."

Stephen opens his eyes, looks at the large form before him.

"Kylo."

And then he looks. After a pause he adds, "And Ronan, I presume."

Just. Just be careful.

Someone told Stephen that just recently, someone he doesn't really know, in a world that's not his own and hangs on a swiftly fraying string. Standing here, knowing the power Kylo has and seeing the potential destructive and transformative power he has, Stephen is perhaps notable unfazed.

"That's what I said and that's what I am here to do."

He steps forward, showing his willingness.

"And you did invite me here. So let's talk."

[photophobic]

And Ronan. Yes. But it's different, the way that Stephen acknowledges Ronan's existence within him, to the peering search for sign of Ronan in Kylo's eyes that the Batman had subjected them to. Kylo isn't certain how he feels about this development: people very rarely seem comfortable about certain aspects of their arrangement. When they recognise them at all.

It isn't a long walk to the chapel, though it does give a little more perspective on the life they live here. Ronan has, in many ways, laid his dreams under their feet.

Why the chapel? It seems the right place for wrestling with difficult questions. Kylo leads their guest towards the altar, but takes a seat several pews back, gesturing for Stephen to join him. Them. Sit wherever.
Just not the pew right at the front, still scarred with the seared mark of sacrifice. That one he remembers and keeps holy.

"Is this when you give me my chance?" he asks. "To give it up. Before you're forced to stop me."

[timestones]

Comfort and understanding, to Stephen, are two different things. He can understand, on some level, that this is an arrangement Kylo and Ronan have, a literal blood pact. Whatever Stephen thinks about that set-up isn't as important as the acknowledge that it's real, it's happening, and he understands it as a system that is in place.

All in all though, Stephen is quite calm, lulled and charmed by the surroundings and resigned to the role he needs to play in the many millions of possible ways. It makes it easier to do this in a way.

We don't get to choose our time. Death is what gives our live meaning. To know your days are numbered. Your time is short.

Stephen has held his final conversational with The Ancient One close to heart since it happened, playing it back over and over again, sometimes obsessively, sometimes as a method of grounding. Over and over. If this is to be the end of days, far from home, all Stephen can do is try and guide the flow of events with a touch so light it hardly even counts as contact.

Taking the pew that is gestured to him, Stephen sits forward slowly, shaky, scared fingers lacing together as he rests his elbows on his knees, listening first to Kylo's words, then the way they tremble in the air, and then to the magic swimming all around them like dust in sunlight.

"No. This is where we talk."

He turns his head to look at Kylo with Ronan, still entirely and maybe eerily serene.

"I'm just here to tell you both that I have seen what you're planning to do. And all the possible outcomes from you doing so, because there are many. I can't tell you what to do, or what not to do. What I can do is ask you, both of you, to reconsider."

[nightmarist]

It's hard to tell how long Ronan has been sitting on the opposite side of Kylo. Maybe he's been there the whole time. He only draws attention to himself now that he slumps forward, draping his folded arms over the back of the pew in front of him.

Eyes fixed on the stained glass above the altar rather than Stephen, Ronan simply asks, "Why?"

[photophobic]

It's the only question. Isn't it. Kylo has nothing to add but his own tightly twisting discomfort and the steeled determination running through it. He says nothing.

Reconsider? What does Stephen think he's been doing since the idea first occurred to him?

[timestones]

So this is Ronan Lynch in the flesh.

Stephen doesn’t stare at him like a bug under a glass, or try to feel around inside him like some magical MRI.

Instead he just looks between them both—first Ronan as he leans forward, then Kylo. Frightened, volatile monsters who have been made that way through the experiences of life, the acts of others, and the lack of faith that monsters are doomed to creating only pain and suffering—both their own and others.

To Stephen, there is so much more available than that.

“Because neither of you actually wants to do it.”

#005

[fremde]

The boy has been standing there for some time, so still that he might have gone unnoticed even if Stephen weren't in a trance. Dressed in a slouchy secondhand turtleneck and somewhat ill-fitting jeans with worn-out knees, he looks a little bit like some homeless kid just wandered in off the street.

But when he's asked, he answers, "Yes." Yes, he does live here, which makes them roommates.

And then, after some delayed consideration, he offers his name, too: "Jonas."

[timestones]

If Stephen hadn't met a talking raccoon recently, he might think this boy looks a little off, but all things in context and all opinions are relative.

Unfolding his body and pushing himself to a slow stand, Stephen gives a short nod in initial acknowledgement of the young man's greeting and introduction, minimal as it is. And accented, too. Though it's hard to tell immediately where the voice hails from with only two words to go by.

"Jonas," he repeats, both in confirmation and to commit it to memory, more for the listener than for Stephen's sake. "Stephen. Strange."

He doesn't offer a hand, not out of rudeness, out of self-protection. Not that he thinks this teenager would have an especially crushing grip, but... It's the principle. But the edge of his long crimson cloak sort of looks like it's creeping closer, like it wants to touch the edge of Jonas' sweater. It's probably just how Stephen is moving though.

"How long were you standing there?"

[fremde]

Jonas's gaze sweeps over the cloak with mild unease. He's not entirely sure whether he's imagining that or whether it is, in fact, reaching for him. He's seen a lot of things in this world, but sentient clothing isn't one of them, which suggests he's hallucinating a little.

That's fine. He looks up to the wizard again. Wizard, right? He's dressed like one.

"Long enough," Jonas answers. "Did you mean to do that, or did you get stuck?"

[timestones]

'Long enough' is a perfectly acceptable measure of time to Stephen, enough that he sort of looks impressed, or at least as though he approves. While he's doing that though, the cloak goes for a another attempt at making contact.

"Stop."

Stephen glances at his collar as he says this, a mildly disapproving frown on his face. Both points of the collar sort of jump upward, like ears on a startled woodland creature while at the same time the corners of the cloak jerk downward at Stephen's sides. It's almost reminiscent of a child being told to their hands out the cookie jar.

Satisfied, Stephen looks back at Jonas again like nothing has happened. Well, not like nothing happened, like he's reallocating his attention.

Did you get stuck?

That's an interesting question. A telling approach. Worthy of giving this young man a longer initial appraisal.

"No, I meant to do that. I was reading."

He glances down toward the gaudy-looking medallion around his neck along with a slight gesture toward it with one hand.

"Looped time. Fifteen minute cycles."

It's not a secret and this feels like the right moment to share. Sometimes it's about getting it out the way. Sometimes it's about the sharing.

[fremde]

Jonas glances at the cloak again. Oh, what a relief. It really is just a piece of sentient clothing. He wonders if it's like a dog and briefly considers petting it, but it seems like an impolite thing to attempt while Strange is still wearing it. He wiggles his fingers in a small wave to it, instead.

As he returns his gaze to the wizard and his odd piece of jewelry, Jonas asks, "You looped time just to catch up on reading?" No judgement. He's only surprised. People are usually a bit more cautious with time.

[timestones]

If a cloak could wag its tale (if a cloak had a tail, it totally would. Because it doesn't, it sort of floats back and forth with sharp, abrupt movements, doing a very good job of saying 'look! look! it's fine! he's fine!' without using words or even having a face.

Stephen ignores it.

"Yes. There's a lot on the network to get through and the end of days apparently arriving in under a week."

[fremde]

"Ah, yes..." Jonas sounds somewhat mournful about it, like it's a regretful inevitability. He doesn't share the others' confidence that it will be averted or their determination to prevent it.

The world ends, and ends, and ends.

"You shouldn't bother. Those people don't know what they're doing."

[timestones]

"Ordinarily, I'd say you seem a little young to be that kind of despondent about the world and people--"

Stephen keeps a rather hawkish stare on Jonas, curious and attentive, without boring into him, though at the same time as though he's trying to stare inside of Jonas somehow.

"But I get the feeling that's not entirely accurate. Is it?"

He breaks the stare then, glancing off toward the kitchen and taking a step away. The cloak stays exactly where it is, still in the shape of Stephen's shoulders and sways back and forth slowly.

"So tell me: how do you take your tea, Jonas?"