Who: Stephen Strage (MCU), Loki Odinson (MCU) What: Two sorcerers and a bad set of memories. When: A few days after the IW memory updates started. Where: The Sanctum Warnings: A little canon typical goading of each other.
No matter how many different spells he had tried, or how often he had returned to the memories, Loki still failed to find an answer to why he had allowed Thanos to kill him so easily. His mind, never a restful place, could not let go of what seemed to him to be a terrible oversight. How had things gotten so out of hand? Where was the clever plan? The bait and switch?
Loki rose from his seat in frustration after several hours of working through the memories, seeking to burn away the fog over them. He wished briefly he still had his magic, though his brother’s powers were no small substitute. What he needed right now was a wizard. Fortunately, there was one who might have the answers he required. One who hadn’t come forward since most of the individuals who shared his universe had woken with new insight into their futures.
By the time Loki arrived at the Sanctum, morning was well on its way. He stalked up to the door, suddenly angry that Strange hadn’t emerged in days. What business did the man have, hiding away when he could be useful?
“Strange!” he shouted at the building’s edifice, certain the man would hear. “Open the door!” His fist came down with enough force to shatter the solid planks of said door … and passed right through it. Loki stumbled after, space bending around him in a way he only appreciated when he was the one bending it, and found himself inside. Strange was not there to meet him. Instead, an animal, something Loki had not seen before. One of those Pokemon people had been so eager to capture on that island.
The zorua, named Dodger, was surprised to see Loki, eyes wide open, his tail straight up and alert, but not afraid: he’d met Loki before when the Asgardian came to his trainer’s meeting several days ago, along with other magic users. Dodger narrowed his eyes, then leaped high into the air to use his power of illusion - his body became enveloped in a spinning blaze of bright pink light and transformed himself into an exact copy of Loki, except for his bushy, grey tail. Standing with his arms curled in front of him and a wicked smile upon his face, the pokemon giggled in a high pitched voice, then ran toward the grand staircase, stopping at the bottom of the stairs and looking over his shoulder at Loki. He ascended a few steps and looked at Loki again, hoping this god of mischief had the sense to follow.
Now that was just rude, Loki thought, using powers of illusion when his own were with his brother. He raised an eyebrow at the animal. “That’s the best you can come up with?” Nevertheless, he followed. Something seemed off.
“Where is your master?” he asked, hardly sparing a glance for his surroundings. He didn’t much care what was in the Sanctum at the moment, so long as he found Strange.
The zorua was halfway up the staircase when Loki asked about his master, and again, he stopped, glanced over his shoulder, giggled, then kept on scurrying upwards. It all became clear at the top of the stairs: framed by the large, circular window of the Sanctum, bathed in the light of dawn, Stephen was found levitating a few feet away from the floor, hands resting upon his knees, the cloak billowing around him. His eyes were closed and his expression was relaxed, but from the stubble on his face it would seem that he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. The illusion-Loki circled around Stephen with a look of concern, then back at Loki, expectantly.
“This is why he hasn’t said a word?” Loki demanded of the Pokemon. “Because he’s been too busy floating? Well that is enough of that.” The god stalked up to Stephen, intent on literally yanking him back to Earth if he could get away with it. If he couldn’t, he had no compunctions about shocking Strange into attention with a healthy dose of Thor’s lightning.
“Pay attention, Strange. I need someone who understands our reality’s magic, and you’ll have to do given my lack of current options.”
It wasn’t that Stephen was ignoring Loki on purpose, he was not at home. Which is to say, his astral body was deeply engaged elsewhere, completely unaware of what was going on in the material world. So, when Loki addressed him, Stephen did not respond. The zorua-Loki looked at the real Loki like he was an idiot for not realizing this, rolling his eyes and sighing dramatically.
Loki unceremoniously pulled Strange straight to the floor, the action more rough than he’d intended. He was still growing accustomed to having Thor’s strength and not his own. Annoyed that the man was ignoring him, Loki channeled electricity through his touch, enough to sting.
The combination of falling hard on his ass, along with a jolt, was enough to break Stephen’s concentration and his trance. “Ow!” He grimaced from the pain and shook his head at the disorientation that was experienced when you were out of your body for so long that you’d forgotten how to interact with your material senses. He realized not only did his body sting, but it also experienced hunger and thirst. Automatically, he turned his head toward the source of his distraction, and when he saw Loki, Stephen didn’t hide the disappointment in his voice when he said, “Oh. It’s you.”
He took his time to sit up straight on the floor, rubbing the crick in the back of his neck: his cloak responded by massaging his shoulders as it rested there. Once he’d seen his trainer return to external consciousness, Dodger immediately dropped his illusion to return to his natural zorua form. He trotted up to Stephen, who was pleased to see him and scratch him affectionately behind the ears, all the while ignoring that Loki was standing there, impatiently. Or so it seemed.
“I know what you came here for,” Stephen muttered. “But I don’t have the answers you seek.”
A smirk flashed briefly across Loki’s features. “Now we’re even for that stunt you pulled in New York.” Payback, even petty and delayed, was sweet. Loki suddenly felt immensely better about about being left in a freefall for half an hour. What people tended to miss was the fact that Loki had a temper to match Thor’s. It simply behaved by a different set of rules. Where Thor would rage and shout, Loki would stew on offenses given for days or even years until he had an opportunity to vent his spleen. He even surprised himself sometimes with where and how his revenge played out … like now, for instance. He would have thought he’d need to stab Strange to truly feel better about things, but there was something terribly satisfying about electrocuting the man with Thor’s powers.
“Get up,” he demanded, toeing the sorcerer in the thigh with his booted foot. Loki had instinctively changed his Midgardian wear for his customary Asgardian leathers once he entered the Sanctum. “No answers simply means you have more work to do. You missed out on the grand, communal sulk. Wanda cooked. Though … you locking yourself up in here meant more for the rest of us, so perhaps I should thank you.”
As far as revenge went, Stephen thought that he got off pretty easy with. The shock was painful, yes, but Loki and his ego always struck Stephen as somebody who retaliated heavier than that. However, Stephen wasn’t going to say anything, lest Loki get any more ideas.
Stephen grimaced as he pushed himself up to his feet, rubbing the area on his arm where the electricity made contact. He then looked at the Asgardian and scowled, hearing what was said and taking away something entirely different than the information that Loki was meant to convey. Turning toward the circular window, the light streaming through was exactly the same as it was when he first slipped into his meditation. “How long has it been since the memories first manifested?”
“The first of us received them in the night, going into Friday.” Loki’s smug satisfaction gave way to a grim downturn of the mouth and faint crease between his eyebrows. Tension settled tightly across his shoulders. He’d used his studies and the surprise pleasure of having Thor’s powers to distract himself from the phantom sensation of Thanos’s hand around his throat.
“Given that none of has have seen, heard, or sensed any sign of you since then, I imagine you were affected at roughly the same time. Unless there’s another dire threat to the universe you’d like to tell us about? Something that warrants starving that mortal body of yours for what I suspect to be several days?”
“I didn’t ask when the memories started, I asked how long it’s been since then,” Stephen said in an irritated tone of voice, then grimaced at how unhelpful Loki was being. He finally summoned his tablet, which appeared in his hands with a spark of yellow and red. First, he checked the date, frowned, then with a single finger, started scrolling through old entries. While completely ignoring Loki. He paused at a couple of different entries before ending at one made by Steve Rogers, only partially listening to Loki ramble, muttering a serious, “Hrmmm…” to acknowledge his pratter.
Finally, he looked up at Loki. “So, in the middle of all this, the portal decided to do a power exchange. That explains why you electrocuted me, instead of using your magic.” Another spark, and his tablet disappeared. “I received my new memories early on Friday morning,” he explained. “Among my memories, I used the Eye of Agamotto to view the alternative futures and see what it would take to defeat Thanos. Out of all of them, only one has us victorious, and before my death I was convinced we were on the right track, declaring we were in the end game” Stephen’s face darkened. “But the portal has prevented me from seeing that future. So I placed myself into a deep trance to enter the subtle plane, using sorcery to try and break down the barriers the portal has placed upon that memory. Three days. No success.”
“Well I suppose that rules out a new dire threat.” The god wrinkled his nose at Stephen before adding, “Except perhaps the fact that you haven’t showered in three days.” He took a deliberate, exaggerated step back.
“Much as I would like to say I have a plan to fix what Thanos did, I’m afraid I’ve been denied access to any such memories as well. There is a haze over them that I cannot burn away, no matter what I have tried. Not that this power exchange has assisted in the effort. Thor excels at many things, but the more subtle magical arts have never been his forte.” Loki eyed Stephen’s books and wondered if he could bend Thor’s abilities to serve any of the spells between the ancient, leather bound covers.
Stephen initially took offense at the shower remark, but then paused, turned his head toward his own armpit, and sniffed. Okay, he thought, Loki was right - he did smell foul, he’d give him that, and made a mental note to bathe as soon as he was finished with this conversation.
“So it seems I’m not the only one with the memory block,” Stephen muttered, darkly, then followed Loki’s line of sight toward the Sanctum’s extensive library. “You may stay and read as you like,” he told the Asgardian, “but no books are to leave. I too want to see if there’s a spell that would be more effective in breaking through the Portal’s memory blockades.”
“Not the only one, no,” Loki told him, frowning. “I have a clear recollection of being strangled, however. That was delightful.” He’d rather he remembered everything else in cutting clarity, save for what Thanos had done to Thor. The god strode toward the books and traced his fingers delicately over their spines, touch almost reverent. These might be tomes collected by mortals, but they were still repositories of knowledge. Loki rarely entered a library he did not adore.
“I’ve no need to take anything from here,” he assured Strange. “I’m perfectly capable of committing what I need to memory. When others aren’t twisting it to their own whims, my mind is quite clear on matters of study.”
Between Loki describing how he’d been killed by Thanos and his off-handed mention of having his mind twisted, Stephen decided he’d be discreet by not telling how not only recalled his own death, but had relived it repeatedly, along with witnessing the deaths of countless others, millions upon millions of times over. It would seem like Stephen was engaging in some sort of morbid one-upmanship to prove how much more he’d suffered, when that wasn’t his intention. Besides, Loki was probably so self absorbed that he wouldn’t even care, so Stephen remained silent, internalizing his trauma to lock it away. With a somber, expression he watched Loki’s reverence toward the books; he appreciated the sentiment, and nodded once to show his approval.
“There are things that I must attend to, including some much needed care of my material body. I’ll leave you to browse at your own leisure. Should you have need, my Zorua will be close by - he will attend to you.” As well as keep watch, just in case the Asgardian god decided to do something mischievous, after all. “Hopefully, you may come across something helpful.”