Stephen Strange is the sorcerer supreme. (mysticmaster) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-09-28 21:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, stephen strange (doctor strange), zatanna zatara |
Who: Doctor (Stephanie) Strange & Zatanna.
When: September 25, morning.
Where: Strange's home.
What: Genderswap plot.
Rating/Warnings: Lowish, flirting and stuff, talk about women's undergarments.
Status: Complete.
Honestly, out of all the situations Zatanna could have expected...
Well, she’d faced worse. She had experienced worse, lived through worse, and seen worse. Lucky stars and other deities and crafty weavers of the strings of Fate had to be thanked and applauded for not tossing another ‘end of the world’ scenario upon them. Her self-confidence had taken a few hits these last few months, but she’d begun to slowly build it back up again, brick by brick. Her and Lina helping to bind a soul to its own being, when it had begun to wither away, was very stimulating for her self-esteem - along with the general teachings she did too, the lessons and the encouragement and support that she could provide just by allowing other magic users to use the space she’d help construct. For practice, and safely so.
Thus, in the scheme of things, helping to make her favorite genderswapped Sorcerer Supreme a bit prettier while he was a woman? That wasn’t too much of a hardship at all.
She packed a bag with some extra clothes of hers - dresses that were flowy and comfortable, mostly, and an elusive bra or too (she didn’t know what size he’d be, but she’d make it work) - and also her makeup and other styling products. Really, this was too hilarious. And since she told him she was literally popping by, she sent herself to his house with a ereht em gnirb, felt the familiar pull behind her navel, and then in a ripple and a shimmer she was in his living room.
“Stephen?” Zee called for him, trying not to sound like she’d enjoy this thoroughly. Tone was hard to deduce over text, so if he was brooding and grumpy she didn’t want to make it worse by laughing.
In a way, it was funny. Stephen had to laugh. What else was someone supposed to do when they went to bed one sex and woke up another? To him, it was funny.
And a nice break from the usual despair Orange County threw at them.
It had been a natural reaction to get a hold of Zatanna. No doubt she, too, would find this amusing. She'd probably take a lot pleasure in it, if nothing else. But he liked her style (obviously) and felt she'd take the best care of him. And while he had expected her to be quick, he hadn't expected her so suddenly. The air shifted. Fizzle, crackle. He felt the magic coming before the sensation of pop.
"It took you long enough." The quip, sitting low for a woman's register, was unmistakably Stephen Strange. He walked out of the kitchen, apple in his hand, clad in too-loose pyjama pants and a baggy t-shirt. At least he took the time to brush his hair. "Aren't you fortunate to escape this."
Oh, heavens. Zatanna snorted, it was a giggle that escaped in a half-wheeze, because she wasn’t certain what she was expecting but...well. Stephen didn’t look half bad, actually. “You’re a very attractive woman,” she complimented, words she never thought she’d utter in her life. Her hand found the silkiness of his hair to run over, smoothing gently, before she traced his features with curious fingers, the look on her face incredulous and cobalt eyes shining with distinct amusement.
“I brought a few things to make this easier, don’t worry,” she promised, and held his chin in her hand, leaning in to kiss him. It felt odd without the stubble she was accustomed to on Stephen, but certainly not in a bad way. “Go sit, I’ll make you over. And show you how to use a mascara wand. I even brought you a pair of fishnets.” If he had the legs for them now, why not flaunt them, right?
The high heels though...admittedly, she was looking forward to see how he’d walk in them.
Zatanna's amusement was mirrored in Stephen's smirk.
"Were you anticipating me to be unattractive?" he teased, not at all dissuaded from returning the little kiss. He turned to head back into the kitchen, the dark sweet smell of freshly brewed coffee hanging in the air. Stephen poured them both out a cup before taking a seat at the table.
"I'm not sure I'm ready for fishnets out of the gate." His eyebrows went up, lips pursing in a way that would probably be called coy. "And it would be rude to upstage you."
“You could never upstage the likes of me.” Zatanna’s hands went to his shoulders, squeezing gently, her touch creeping up the back of his neck to play in the expanse of silky dark hair. “But if you’re lucky, I might give you a few pointers...” She was teasing, huskily, as she wrapped her arms around him and stooped to give Sorcerer Supreme Stephenie a nuzzle from behind, kisses on skin that was so soft and smooth! How different.
Now, to see what she had to work with here. She studied him, fingers curled around the handle of her mug as she sipped the coffee, working out a game plan - what ‘looks’ would best compliment his features, you see. He had golden flecks in his eyes, so something pale to highlight that - she’d go for bronze shadow, neutral lips and cheeks, in a pink or taupe. That decided, she went back to playing with his hair but just to twist it out of the way. Now to paint his face, because she didn’t trust him to do it himself just yet.
She started by selecting the correct eye palette out of her vast selection. “You’re taking this rather well,” she noted, and scooted in between his legs to get the best vantage point. “Close your eyes, Stephenie.”
Stephanie just sat there, eyes following Zatanna when they could, coffee mug held between both hands. He snorted at the name all the same. At least it was better than Stephania or something ridiculous. He shifted a bit in his chair to get comfortable, uncertain how long makeovers took, and even more uncertain of what to expect.
“I’m not sure it’s the sort of thing you can take badly,” Stephen said. His eyes closed obediently, lashes fanning out. “Who would have known Orange County had a sense of humour? And it’s odd, but I think I felt it coming. Not this exactly, of course, but I had this feeling that things were going to shift again. Just a sort of nagging voice in the back of my head. Does that happen to you?”
He was curious. He’d known from speaking to others that dream about him that he’s a force to be reckoned with when it came to magic and the mystical arts, and so fully expected an eventual onslaught of abilities. But Stephen had come to decide that Zatanna was herself quite powerful. She’d be an ideal way to gauge his own experiences.
Zatanna hummed, picking the correct brush. The large eyeshadow brush, lighter color at the base of the lashes and then blending up toward the browbone. She wasn’t a makeup professional by any means but being a performer, of course she knew a few tips - she had to put her best face forward beneath the comforting glow of stage lights. Though she wouldn’t do Stephen up to that degree - he just needed something to make those pretty eyes pop and give him a glow, yes?
“It does,” she confirmed, shifting a little, sort of using his thigh as a perch as she worked on her artistry. “I regularly turn the cards, or do tasseomancy, perhaps even gaze into that crystal ball,” her lips quirked upward in a smirk, “But I can sense change in the winds, things of that nature - it’s simply another form of divination, though I also think it’s similar to being able to sense magic in general. We become attuned to the ways it can flow and change. This whole place is magic, isn’t it?” And while she was powerful, it was true (sometimes she felt as if one person shouldn’t be wielding that much power, in fact), the notion remained that Orange County was more...omnipotent. A geographical location that almost seemed sentient, drawing Dreamers here and shaking up their entire worlds.
Soft lips turned up into a smirk. That stupid crystal ball. Stephen moved his coffee to one hand so the other arm could settle around Zatanna’s waist as she perched. The feeling of the make up brushes was foreign. How could women do this to themselves every day? It was likely that he’d come out of this with better appreciation for what the fairer sex put themselves through.
“It is,” he answered, humming his agreement. Orange County oozed magic. You probably didn’t need to be Zatanna or Strange or any one of the number of powerful residents to know that, but it felt differently now. The air was always alive. “At least our lives are never boring.”
The look on femme-Stephen’s made face Zatanna laugh. He couldn’t stand that crystal ball, which she thought was somewhat adorable. “No, they’re never boring,” she agreed, applying the eyeliner and mascara with a steady hand - she didn’t want to give Stephenie raccoon eyes, after all. That was far too gutter trash for her. But just something to really bring out the peepers, before she went for the softer, fluffier brush to use to apply blusher and highlighter on those pretty cheeks.
“I’m glad for things, in a way,” she continued thoughtfully, with a sweep of the bristles - they probably felt better than the eye makeup brush. “I would not have met you otherwise, if I didn’t move here and decide it was a good idea to get to know my niece. Honestly though, out of all the challenges the county has thrown at us, raising a teenager is probably the most challenging.”
“I’m certain it’s no coincidence.” Stephen’s nose crinkled a bit. The blush brush was tickly. “Us all finding our way here. I don’t know if Orange County believes in coincidence.” There were too many people dreaming the same things to be purely by chance, and Stephen had come to respect the ideas of fate and destiny. They each had their purpose. This place was simply a part of that.
“I’d imagine a teenager would prove more difficult than a child. They’ve had a chance to get settled into their ways, less likely to listen. Children you have a chance to shape them into good habits. Teenagers - you’ve got rework it all.” It was something he wasn’t envious of. He had no time for the notion of family. It was never something that had worked its way into the life goals. Career took up too much of that, then his hobbies, and now all of this. “I’m sure you do just fine.”
She chuckled lowly, giving Stephen a tissue, “Blot,” Zee instructed, and that would just get the excess lipstick and gloss off. My, wasn’t she looking gorgeous. “I believe we are all here for a reason as well. Drawn to the place, and sometimes people leave - but then sometimes they return again later. It’s a part of us already. The connections we form, our experiences. I hold each one dear, even the ones involving a teenager who often doesn’t listen.” Her eyes sparked with amusement at that - luckily Raven was already a good person (she’d raised herself, essentially, no thanks to her criminal father), she had good habits, she just tried to do too much sometimes.
“But I do fine, I suppose you’re right. I do my best, I should say. Here...” She gave him a mirror to assess his newly made-up appearance. Chic and glamourous, if Zee said so herself. “Are you ready to tackle the monster known as a woman’s brassiere?”
Stephen obediently blotted and listened. At his reflection, he snorted, but he also undoubtedly preened. He was quite attractive, if he said so himself.
"Now that," he said, setting the mirror aside, "is something I don't anticipate having too many issues with. I learned my way around women's undergarments years ago."
“I’m sure you have, but I presume that’s more along the lines of taking them off,” Zee pointed out, with a smirk, and found him a silky black, very feminine set of undergarments along with a dress, everything folded into a neat pile, and handed it over. “Getting fit for a bra is important. You want it to be perfect, or else it’s painful to say the least. I’ll adjust for you, but go on and put it on - “ Something she never thought she’d say to Stephen, let’s be honest, “And then come and model for me.”
He could forego the fishnets for now. And she’d brought both flats and heels, in case he didn’t feel like walking around in ninja star death traps. Even women who had practice for years had trouble with those sometimes.
"Understanding how to take it off fundamentally means understanding how to put it on."
He took the pile with a pointed look, accompanied by his own smirk. Off to the bedroom he went. "Will I get to see wear these some time?" he asked, while he struggled with the bra clasp. It wasn't something he was going to admit. Everything else went on easily. How women did this, he'd never understand. Back in the kitchen, he held out his arms, even did a slight twirl.
"Am I acceptable?"
“You can see them anytime you want, Stephen, all you have to do is ask,” Zatanna responded, chuckling, though she let the Sorcerer Supreme fight his own brassiere battle by giving him privacy. Then she was waiting when he emerged, pushing off from where she’d been leaning against the counter. Cobalt eyes gave him a once-over, and it was obvious she approved. Yes, very nice. Very nice indeed.
Her fingers combed through his hair a little to get it pleasantly situated, and after she adjusted the chest puppies for him, tightening the bra straps a little to achieve a perfect fit, she leaned in and planted another kiss on him, passionate and sweet - literally, it tasted like vanilla lip gloss. Mmmm. “Beautiful,” she praised. “Do I get to take you out for brunch or something?”
Mmmm indeed. Stephen would remember to ask to see these items in the future. Once his man bits returned to him.
"I would be completely flattered if you would want to be seen out in public with me." Why not? They may as well do something after all the effort she put into him. "I'll get my keys."