RP: Life is a Tide. Float on It Who: Stephen and Loki When: January 7, evening Where: Outside by the pond What: I have no idea Warning: TW for memories, angst, etc.
Ever since the accident, Stephen had trouble finding a purpose, something to do with himself once the thing he'd devoted so much of his life to, medicine, was no longer an viable option. Becoming the Sorcerer Supreme of his reality had helped. He still fought to save lives, though the enemies he faced often looked like something Lovecraft would have written about. Memories of dying countless times at Dormammu's hand still haunted his dreams regularly, as did the scraps of millions of futures that would never be, thanks to the choice he made. He'd thought the bus would be different. He was wrong. So fucking wrong.
He slipped on his parka and boots. He didn't bother with the snowshoes. He wouldn't need them. As he pulled up his hood, the Cloak settled on his shoulders. He descended the staircase and headed for the door. "I'm heading out for a walk," he said to Theo, who sat on the couch eating popcorn, and stepped out into the blizzard. His hands felt it first as they always did. The titanium pins and rods that gave his fingers structure chilled instantly, or so it felt. But pain was fine. Pain was welcome. Pain was an old, old friend.
He remembered the path to the skating rink. Was there a pond under there? Or was it simply a large puddle of frozen water? With luck, maybe it'd be deep. With his destination in mind, he levitated up and floated onwards.