Doctor Stephen Strange (mister_doctor) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-05-11 13:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, stephen strange (mcu) |
Who: Stephen Strange
When: Friday, May 11 - 6:00 am
Where: The Sanctum Sanctorum
What: Memories and meditation
Warnings: Spoilers for Infinity War
Status: Complete, closed
The flood of memories that invaded Stephen’s mind was so strong that it snapped his astral form back into corporal body so that he awoke from his trance with a violent start and a loud gasp. Eyes open wide at the ceiling, heart pounding in his chest, he held his scarred hands up when he noticed they were quivering not from the usual nerve damage, but from fear. He launched himself from his prone position in bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, covering his face with his hands, taking deep breaths to pull himself together. Movement out of the corner of his eyes caused him to look and see his cloak hovering at the foot of his bed.
“You too?” he asked. The cloak nodded its collar once, understanding exactly what the sorcerer was asking about. “Shit,” he mumbled. He then pressed his palms together and rested them against his mouth as he closed his eyes to think. The last thing he remembered was telling Tony There was no other way, before his body disintegrated and blew away into dust. He’d spoken with such conviction and confidence, even though he’d handed the Time Stone to Thanos in exchange for Tony’s life. Now they stood a chance against succeeding in the long run. But how?
Over fourteen million scenarios ran through his head. Alternative futures, alternative timelines, some had minute differences, others were more grand, but all of them ended in the same way with Thanos succeeding in his mad plan to eliminate half of the universe’s population. All of them except one. Stephen frowned, for when he tried focusing in on that specific memory, the outcome was clouded, veiled, and he was prevented from knowing what happened.
“Damn it!” He sharply rose and began marching out of his bedroom. As he did, the cloak swiftly flew over and rested firmly upon Stephen’s shoulders while the night clothes he wore immediately changed into his sorcerer's tunic. He strode forward and stopped in front of the large, circular window whose swooping lines mirrored the mystic design opon the Eye of Agamotto. The Eye had not come with him when he arrived through the portal, but his hand rested upon his chest where it would hang if he was wearing it.
In an instant, his tablet was summoned and he began checking the Displaced network page. Nobody had written about gaining distressing memories. Yet. Stephen doubted he’d be the only one. It was likely that people would start coming to him, demanding answers to mitigate their distress. Answers they deserved. With a deft movement, the tablet disappeared - he’d made up his mind what to do.
The light of dawn broke over the horizon as Stephen sat in a cross-legged position, levitating a few feet from the floor, hands upon his knees, and fingers arranged into arcane mudras. He was terribly familiar with the way the Portal prevented him from using certain spells, and he’d been frustrated in his endeavors many times before, but as he slipped into a deep meditation, Stephen was determined to uncover the future that was blocked from him.
[OOC: After this happens, Stephen will not respond to anybody writing to him over the network. Somebody is going to have to come to the Sanctum to wake him up from his meditation]