Once upon a time, Stephen heard camera shutters not infrequently and high-profile medical conferences and dinners. But that isn't really his life anymore and hasn't been for a nebulous, fungible amount of time and actual celebrity status in a public-eye, flashing camera sense really is something that is taking some getting used to.
Fortunately for Stephen, he has a lot of years of self-assured confidence to draw on which makes the transition a little bit easier, at least for the sake of good photos. And when he's decided that if you're going to a winter gala then you need to go big or stay home when it comes to outfit, having a vast supply of confidence to draw on is nothing to snuff at.
In point of fact, Stephen has enough poise and charisma to go around and he has absolutely no qualms about passing that along, especially to anyone looking a little too singled out or unsure in front of the lens. For people like that, he moves closer with a steadying presence, maybe a hand on the shoulder or middle back to adjust posture subtly and indicate where to look for better shots--it's largely about striking an image of winter royalty fantasy for when the reports of the night start pouring in.
For more confident types there is less need for misdirected assistance and more mutual posing, but whichever the case may be, eventually Stephen leans in to his photo partner.
"I can't see anything, can you? Perhaps we've given them enough for now--they say the camera steals the soul and I'm not sure I want to lose any spiritual weight right now."
He gestures toward the gala entrance.
"Shall we?"
❄ Mix and Mingle❄
Straight-backed but slack-shouldered, Stephen floats between a state of content wallflower and vibrant conversationalist with ease. He's there to be present, but not overbearing, enjoying the ambiance of a universe saved and a mixed sense of victory.
The good thing about standing with a magician is the way that if you happen to come a bit too close to him, drinks sort of appear in empty hands, or magically top up.
He gives a careful sideways glance to the recipient.
"Don't give me up, they'll try and get me on staff and fire the rest. Hardly seems fair."
Beyond that, especially keen eyes might catch him conjuring small flickers of magic, little gold discharges floating off into the party space and settling in choice locations to bring a bit of sparkle to personal accessories, a little more glitz to decorations, or a just a general extra bit of sparkle in the air.
Maybe the Mystic Arts shouldn't be used so casually for aesthetic displays, but tis the season, and the apocalypse didn't happen.
❄ Auction❄
During the auction, Stephen hangs further back, sipping quietly from his glass and watching the bidding unfold with an unfocused look in his eye, only partially listening. It's not disinterest exactly, more like he's taking a moment to recharge during something that is nothing really to do with him, but he refocuses on the present whenever someone comes close to his immediate personal circle.
"Anything catching your eye?"
❄ Mistletoe❄
As the night wears on, where Stephen has been studiously avoiding mistletoe laden alcoves, he may be found less on guard in his gentle-buzzed state, veins thrumming warmly with alcohol and festive vibes.
He's not so far gone that he can't stop himself before stumbling directly into anyone though.
"Whoops." That's the first greeting before collision occurs (at least from his end).
"Hi." That's the second greeting.
"Oh." That's the third, after noticing what's hanging overhead.
❄ Wildcard❄
[Dinner? Dancing? Something else entirely? Hit me! You can also grab me via PM and on plurk kralkatorrik!]
Dr. Stephen Strange ۞ OPEN
Fortunately for Stephen, he has a lot of years of self-assured confidence to draw on which makes the transition a little bit easier, at least for the sake of good photos. And when he's decided that if you're going to a winter gala then you need to go big or stay home when it comes to outfit, having a vast supply of confidence to draw on is nothing to snuff at.
In point of fact, Stephen has enough poise and charisma to go around and he has absolutely no qualms about passing that along, especially to anyone looking a little too singled out or unsure in front of the lens. For people like that, he moves closer with a steadying presence, maybe a hand on the shoulder or middle back to adjust posture subtly and indicate where to look for better shots--it's largely about striking an image of winter royalty fantasy for when the reports of the night start pouring in.
For more confident types there is less need for misdirected assistance and more mutual posing, but whichever the case may be, eventually Stephen leans in to his photo partner.
"I can't see anything, can you? Perhaps we've given them enough for now--they say the camera steals the soul and I'm not sure I want to lose any spiritual weight right now."
He gestures toward the gala entrance.
"Shall we?"
Straight-backed but slack-shouldered, Stephen floats between a state of content wallflower and vibrant conversationalist with ease. He's there to be present, but not overbearing, enjoying the ambiance of a universe saved and a mixed sense of victory.
The good thing about standing with a magician is the way that if you happen to come a bit too close to him, drinks sort of appear in empty hands, or magically top up.
He gives a careful sideways glance to the recipient.
"Don't give me up, they'll try and get me on staff and fire the rest. Hardly seems fair."
Beyond that, especially keen eyes might catch him conjuring small flickers of magic, little gold discharges floating off into the party space and settling in choice locations to bring a bit of sparkle to personal accessories, a little more glitz to decorations, or a just a general extra bit of sparkle in the air.
Maybe the Mystic Arts shouldn't be used so casually for aesthetic displays, but tis the season, and the apocalypse didn't happen.
During the auction, Stephen hangs further back, sipping quietly from his glass and watching the bidding unfold with an unfocused look in his eye, only partially listening. It's not disinterest exactly, more like he's taking a moment to recharge during something that is nothing really to do with him, but he refocuses on the present whenever someone comes close to his immediate personal circle.
"Anything catching your eye?"
As the night wears on, where Stephen has been studiously avoiding mistletoe laden alcoves, he may be found less on guard in his gentle-buzzed state, veins thrumming warmly with alcohol and festive vibes.
He's not so far gone that he can't stop himself before stumbling directly into anyone though.
"Whoops." That's the first greeting before collision occurs (at least from his end).
"Hi." That's the second greeting.
"Oh." That's the third, after noticing what's hanging overhead.
[Dinner? Dancing? Something else entirely? Hit me! You can also grab me via PM and on plurk