Strange was absolutely right on that account - John wouldn't care even a little. Titles so rarely mattered, particularly in their field. "Strange," he said in what was practically a formal greeting for him -- because he rather figured Stevie would get him one less travel partner.
It was tempting though.
The cloak was something else, and John, forever interested in magical items, couldn't say he wasn't curious. But that was for later. For now, he adjusted the lapels of his trench coat and stepped through the door without looking back.
He hadn't expected the heat to be unbearable, or the sand to be so --- everywhere. "What, wait, no," he said whirling around. "Shite place, I want a do-over."