ɴᴀᴛᴀsʜᴀ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴏғғ ʜᴀs ʀᴇᴅ (inherledger) wrote in stromaisleic, @ 2023-04-01 15:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | !time: evening, *thread: complete doc, mcu: natasha romanoff, mcu: stephen strange, ☑day: four |
Who: Natasha Romanoff & Stephen Strange
What: Drinks & a chat
Where: A beach
When: Day 4, at dusk
Warnings: don't think so
Status: complete
After spending five and a half years holding the remnants of the Avengers together in the aftermath of their defeat at the hands of Thanos, Natasha wasn’t expecting to find herself so exhausted by this new situation. It might have only been four days since she woke up on a strange beach instead of plummeting to her death on Vormir, but it felt like much longer. At least at home, she had modern conveniences to make her job easier. Here, they were essentially building from the ground up and it was a lot of work. Natasha was grateful that so many people were stepping up and pitching in with their varied skills, though she still felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders.
Every day had seen more people arriving though thankfully not as many as the first day. If they continued growing their population at that rate, she was concerned that they would outgrow their resources too quickly. Natasha did worry about the younger folks being reckless and was concerned that someone was going to get seriously injured. At least they had a fair number of medical professionals around.
Like one Dr. Stephen Strange, who she was rather enjoying getting to know. He had a dry sense of humor that she appreciated. In some ways, he reminded Natasha of Bruce and she couldn’t help teasing him. The fact that he could transfigure water into vodka was a bonus.
At dusk, she found the good doctor and they walked to the same spot where they’d chatted a couple of nights ago. “You think we’re going to get more rewards like yesterday?” she asked once they were settled.
*
Dusk on the beach was a pleasant time - starlight beckoned, promising an appearance, pearls cushioned upon a whole expanse of black velvet. Stephen had to admit that the views were gorgeous out here on the island, with no city interferences to marr the images with smog or artificial lights - but he still would much rather be home. The City That Never Slept called to him too - he had responsibilities not just there, but for the good of the world.
He did all he could do to stay busy here - but it still didn’t stop the ever-present nagging at the back of his mind. Incursion. Was that what the note had meant, when it said this was the last safe place in the world? Did it have something to do with the incursion?
There were no answers, only more questions. For someone like Stephen who thrived on finding creative solutions to problems, he didn’t have a way to untangle the knot that was everyone being here. Still, he supposed for some - like Natasha - it was a second chance. And for that reason, he wouldn’t squander it. “It seemed to indicate that if we keep working hard, we’ll get more rewards,” he said, with an elegant tut of fingers over the water bottle. The H20 swiftly became vodka, and Stephen sloshed the liquid a bit before offering it to Natasha for the first sip.
“But I admittedly just have more questions about our omnipotent overlords. Whoever they are.”
*
Natasha knew it was going to be very dark tonight. The moon had been waning since they arrived and by her estimate, would not cast any light on the earth after the sun completely set. She couldn’t remember the last time she sat out under the stars and enjoyed the night sky. Sitting here, the crashing of waves as a gentle soundtrack, was a moment of peace she seldom experienced.
“Or whatever they are,” she added, accepting the bottle and taking a careful sip. The vodka was just as good as last time and she was grateful that Strange was willing to use his abilities to indulge her. “If Thor was here, he might know of a god with this kind of power.” If it wasn’t a god, then it was something equally, if not more powerful and that thought was frightening.
She handed the bottle back to him. “This situation feels precarious,” she said. “So many people from so many different places. Right now everyone is working together, but what are we going to do if that changes?”
*
“I’ve come across a few godlike entities in my day - none of whom should be wielding this kind of power,” Stephen sighed - they were clearly playing with people’s lives here, pulling them in and then spitting them back out again, and maybe he was a sorcerer with the power of gods at his fingertips (as stated by his other self, guardian of the Darkhold and too far gone to be saved, living in a funhouse that was falling apart and floating off into a dark abyss) but it wasn’t like he could stop this.
Calling upon the Faltine, or Bom’Galiath, wouldn’t help here - he wasn’t about to attempt Dreamwalking either. Not yet.
Ah, vodka. It was a comfort when few things were. But sitting here on the beach with Natasha was nice too - he looked forward to these little chats of theirs. A swallow of the vodka was taken, and it delightfully burned on the way down. “If that changes then - we’ll deal with it as we always do,” he replied. “As far as I know, we can’t predict the future. We can only handle what’s in front of us - hope for the best, prepare for the worst. Besides, I anticipate some inevitable in-fighting - it always happens but it doesn’t have to mean we throw in the towel on what we’ve built.”
*
As a human on a team with gods and people with actual superpowers, Natasha never felt like she was at a disadvantage thanks to her training and experience. The most helpless she could ever remember feeling was in the immediate aftermath of Thanos’s snap. Being on this island, without any clear answers on what they were doing here, far exceeded that and she didn’t like the feeling one bit. The vodka helped; as did Stephen’s calm demeanor.
“We’ve been lucky so far that no one has experienced any serious injuries,” she said. The worst she was aware of was the guy who had ghost tuberculosis, which was beyond bizarre, but thankfully passed within a few hours. “What do you think about the other doctors here? Are they up for dealing with whatever this place might throw at us?”
Natasha trusted his judgment and knew that he’d be honest in his assessment.
*
The idea of people suffering grievous injuries here, without a hospital or any way to perform anything other than crude surgery and hardly a way for Stephen to thoroughly scrub his hands even if he could still perform surgery? No, it didn’t sit well with him. He was on a quest for soap but bolstering their medical ‘equipment’ was paramount too - they didn’t have a ton to work with, and he didn’t want to always have to rely on magical healing. There were others that were talented enough to bring someone back from the brink of death, sure, but what was the cost? Would it always work?
All his eggs weren’t going in that basket - he was far too practical for that.
“They’re all experienced and have seen plenty of cases that are outside the norm,” he assured. “I trust them to do no harm - we’ll all do the best we can, anyway. I don’t want to constantly rely on the trump card of magical healing for everything, which is why I think a mix of that and whatever constitutes modern medicine is best. Even if Met-Gen isn’t exactly around the corner.”
Yeah, he wished. That would certainly give him more peace of mind.
*
“Wonder if we can convince our benevolent overlords to give us some basic medical supplies,” Natasha said, glancing up at the sky as if someone or something might hear her request. Disinfectant, bandages, maybe some antibiotics would all be nice. “And maybe some condoms or birth control pills. The last thing we need is for someone to get pregnant.”
Given her own circumstances, that thought hadn’t crossed her mind until this morning when she saw Pepper’s post and had a few moments of panic that this place might have brought a vulnerable child here. The atmosphere here hardly encouraged sex, but Natasha wasn’t naive enough to think that some people wouldn’t give in to those baser instincts despite the crude conditions.
*
Oh, right, condoms and birth control - Stephen had considered that too. He knew the way human nature operated, and when people were facing the unknown? They turned to vices they did know. Vices that were comforting - sex, alcohol, drugs. The first one was arguably the easiest to indulge in but he couldn’t say he had it on his mind, necessarily. And he’d gone years without already - what was some more time?
“I...really hope so,” he chuckled, a low laugh that was a chord unto its own - genuine amusement was so rare these days. “Medical supplies and birth control options - we need all of that. I wonder if there’s a way to ask? Presumably they’re observing us, if they know what we’ve been up to and then provided a feast for our efforts.”
He glanced up at the sky too, observing the twinkle of the constellations - then back at Natasha, icy eyes having lost their chill a little thanks to the warmth of the vodka. And the relaxing company too, he supposed.
*
His laughter was a pleasant sound and a nice accompaniment to the vodka. Sex wasn’t exactly topmost in Natasha’s mind either since it wasn’t something she often indulged in simply for pleasure. As both a Widow and a SHIELD agent, sex was something she used far too many times as a weapon. Though if she did decide to partake, thanks to the Red Room, she wouldn’t have to worry about bringing an innocent baby into this hellscape. Something she never expected to be grateful for.
“Maybe we can write letters,” she suggested, unable to keep herself from smiling at the thought. “You know, like to Santa.” At this point, it wouldn’t surprise Natasha one bit to discover that Santa was real.
*
“Hey, if that’s what it takes,” Stephen huffed. “I’ll write a letter everyday to get some bactine in here.” They could use plants, sure, and he trusted that Alyssa the Red Queen knew her stuff when it came to that - but she could only coax them to grow so fast, and if there was a true emergency and the medical team used up all their supplies? They’d be screwed. It wasn’t an idea he was fond of.
If he was going to be screwed, he’d prefer going the actual sex route - he wasn’t inexperienced, just out of practice, and while nothing about the island was romantic that didn’t mean he was some sort of monk. Sex was one of the most spiritually liberating practices according to those who studied at Kamar-Taj - within the Order, there were certainly books where spells were scribed, incantations to use during the act to apply to other facets beyond shared pleasure or channeling specific deities. Protection during battle was one of them.
Not that he was about to suggest to Natasha that they bang to power up - but you know. It was practical, at least.
Whatever. He swiped the bottle to have another sip. “Wonder what kind of world this is anyway, if apparently the island is the last safe place - according to the note.”
*
Natasha was practical if nothing else.
“Yeah, wonder what kind of threats we might be facing,” she mused. “We know there are ghosts, apparently at least one of which can make people ill. That really doesn’t bode well for what else we might encounter.” It was difficult to be prepared for things that you couldn’t fathom and all of this was far beyond Natasha’s area of expertise.
She reached to take the bottle again. Thinking about all of these things definitely required alcohol. “We do seem to be somewhere in the British Isles though, as best I can tell by the stars.”
*
“I’d portal to the closest mainland to check, but I’m blocked there,” Stephen sighed. He could only use the sling ring to open portals around the island - annoying, sure, but he had to keep it in perspective. It was possible he wouldn’t be able to portal at all and then he’d really be screwed - so basically, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Or complain too much about accessing his magic, since he could cast most spells.
Speaking of that, however. “I suppose I could see if I could reach the astral dimension and travel that way - there’s Dreamwalking too, but it’s...dangerous.” Corrosive to the soul, as he remembered Mordo saying before the tea laced with the Sands of Nisanti leached all the energy from his bloodstream, dropping him there on the floor with leaden limbs. The bastard.
“It allows me to possess another version of myself in another universe. Might be a way to get some answers but like I said - it comes with its consequences.” The Third Eye he had, which remained closed and out of view right now, was proof of that.
*
.
None of that sounded good and Natasha frowned, shaking her head as he talked. “No, let’s not go there,” she said. “No need for you to put yourself in danger. Not at this point. If something changes, maybe we can re-visit that idea.” Right now, having him in one piece was more useful than any potential intel he could gather.
“Besides which, I am guessing that isn’t exactly a pleasant experience.” Possessing oneself was an odd concept, to be sure, and while a tiny part of Natasha could see being curious about other ways her life could have played out, it wouldn’t change anything about her experiences so there wouldn’t be a good reason to get that information.
She took a long drink and then handed him the bottle. “Do you know about these consequences from reading or…” she trailed off, assuming he would understand the unspoken rest of the question.
*
Stephen exhaled a quiet laugh, a puff of air. “I have personal experience. One other version of me...went too far with it. His universe was falling apart, since Dreamwalking tends to erode the barriers between universes in addition to the more personal aspects,” he explained. But since he’d opened this Pandora’s Box, well, he should just creak it open all the way.
He took the bottle and then concentrated for a moment - the third eye, same watercolor blue-green shade as his other eyes, fluttered open right there smack dab in the center of his forehead. Because of that, he saw their surroundings in a whole different way - clearer. Sharper. It all reached the energy wheel at the very center of him, where the body’s chakras turned and spun, distributing energy. “Kind of weird, but...”
Trailing off, he blinked all three eyes again, sort of nervously. “I’m not entirely used to it yet.”
*
“That’s…” Natasha couldn’t find the words. It was a little unsettling to have three eyes looking at her and she couldn’t help but stare at the third one in the middle of his forehead. “Huh.” The world still managed to surprise her.
His discomfort with the whole thing was obvious though and she held the vodka bottle out to him. “I’m guessing that was not a fun experience. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” It was difficult to confront the worst parts of yourself and it sounded like Stephen had really gone through it.
*
The third eye disappeared, since Stephen willed it away - it was creepy enough to feel it there, so he could imagine that it was ten times worse for Natasha to have to look at such an abomination. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it - maybe it was some kind of ‘power up,’ something to say that he called upon the Darkhold and lived to tell the tale. That his dark magic use had some from a place not born from selfishness (he only wanted to keep America alive), the way Wanda’s usage was - his heart twisted again when he thought of her and how far her corruption spiraled; he wished things could have been different.
“Neat party trick, at least,” he shrugged, because not a fun experience? Not really. No point in re-hashing it now though. So he passed the bottle back, and would let Natasha have the rest. “Maybe it’ll come in handy someday here too - I guess you never know.”
He wouldn’t ruminate too much on it. They could just drink their vodka and enjoy the night - because the next day would come soon enough.
*
Natasha accepted the bottle and took a drink before nudging his shoulder with hers. “We’ve all been through some shit.” More than their fair share, but she’d always known that life wasn’t fair and was resigned to playing the hand she was dealt. Being here might suck in a lot of ways except it really was a second chance for her and probably one that she didn’t deserve.
“Maybe we’ll get some fabulous reward here eventually. Hawaii would be nice.” She wasn’t going to hold her breath.
*
Hawaii would be nice, wouldn’t it? There were a variety of unique beaches there - one where you had to wander along worn trails to get to a beach, olivine crystals shining in the sand and giving it a green sort of glint. Stephen could go for that.
“Maybe - they could just plunk the beach down right here,” he smirked, leaning back on his elbows to get comfortable and do some stargazing. If they didn’t have Hawaii, they at least had this. “I guess you never know what could happen.”
Stranger things had, after all.