ώάήȡά (scarlets) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-02-20 11:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, marvel: wanda maximoff, ₴ inactive: stephen strange |
WHO: Stephen & Wanda
WHAT: Strange finds a newly arrived Avenger
WHERE: Streets of Vallo City, then the Sanctum
WHEN: Today
WARNINGS: None really
STATUS: Complete
Wanda was not amused. Not even a little bit. It showed, perhaps, almost too obviously at the poor sap of a DOA representative who had appeared through the bustling sidewalks of Vallo City - what - to introduce themselves, give a basic rundown and equip her with the necessary communications advice. Her eyes had flashed red, you see - bright, glowing rubies of death more or less. It was a moment of weakness, excuse her. Ultimately she behaved. It was fine. She wasn’t fine but that was neither here nor there. It wasn’t as if a little more than a week ago faced off Thanos, lost Vision, was literally snapped out of existence after five years and then returned ready for the battle to save the universe. A few days ago had been Tony’s funeral, a day of mourning for the man that gave his life for everyone else’s - though hadn’t Natasha done the same thing? Then Steve was gone, or just sitting around being old somewhere. She didn’t quite understand it. Didn’t understand quite a bit, actually - because this was life now? And she was supposed to adjust, and move on? If that were the case it certainly wasn’t happening back home, having found herself blipped from one world to another. Wanda hadn’t taken the offer to register because why the hell would she (seemed quite suspicious, frankly). The housing, the money - she didn’t need it. She would find her own way. Somehow. Wanda looked to her left, then looked to her right. Looked up, looked around, irritably grumbled foreign curses under and walked towards - hm, something. Something off, that’s all she knew. Frankly, she didn’t give a shit what it was and she’d worry about that later. The DOA had their way of tracking new arrivals and Stephen had his - not every new arrival, of course, because that was mind numbing and he already had enough baggage in his head; previously it had been 14,605,000 alternate timelines, with 14,605,000 possible outcomes (and one that would save them all). But as soon as the Sanctum appeared in Vallo City, a three-story townhouse sandwiched between two other buildings, he consulted his books to find a spell that was kind of like weaving an ethereal spiderweb - if anyone from his world wandered into that web, he was pinged. A little tickle of magic, if you will. It pinged him now, strongly - rather than drop a business card with the Sanctum’s new address through a portal he went himself. Made a portal, that circle of shimmering sparks closing behind him at an intersection as he blended in with the walking pedestrians - and that was when he saw Wanda. And stopped right in front of her. So much had happened since the last time he saw her - they woke up on the battlefield in Wakanda, a graveyard of dust and dirt baking beneath the sun, then had to go to the banks of the Hudson to ensure the universe was preserved. So many portals, allowing transport for previously fallen heroes, and then it was over. Dead Tony Stark and a Captain America who made a few ‘important’ stops on his journey to fuck up timelines even more. “Hello, Wanda,” he greeted, and the Cloak of Levitation fluttered around him, forming an arm to wave with too since the thing was oftentimes friendlier than the doctor was. But he’d do his best here - even if he’d just seen her at the funeral as well. Wanda felt that crackle in the air, right before the flash of sparks that spun and spun - how very deja vu - until she felt the invisible fabric around them split open, a surprisingly unfamiliar figure having stepped out and floating before her. Vallo felt weird, she was used to weird, but this was at least a sense of weird she had witnessed before. It didn’t quite make her hackles rise, though she kept herself fairly guarded regardless. “You,” she breathed, cocking her head to the side as she drank the sight of him in. Dr. Strange, yes - she remembered him, more of an acquaintance than anything but she supposed she could categorize him under ally instead of threat. Wanda’s steps halted. “How did you - ?” Mmm, no. Silly question. Her brows were pinched together, visibly perplexed, she re-routed her wording. “You’re here and - you know me.” The DOA representative mentioned something about alternate versions of people, timelines, something along those lines. She was piecing it all together as she went, anyway. “I don’t think anyone knows the details about ‘how,’” Stephen admitted, so no, he wouldn’t attempt to unravel that particular game of cat’s cradle. Not right now. Even if the locals knew something, they kept it all under wraps - he didn’t think it would be very wise to push them, so Outlanders just had to deal with the unknown. He didn’t think it was wise to push Wanda either, though he certainly never would have - it was more like he knew that all of this could be overwhelming and once she hopped onto the network she’d be inundated and likely overwhelmed. At the very least he could offer a safe place to hunker down in, until she decided what she wanted to do. The Sanctum was open to her - for however long she decided to stay. He’d make that clear. “I do know you,” he added. “There are a few of us from the same world here, just - different timelines. Steve and Natasha are here and very much alive. Would you like to come back to the Sanctum? I can explain what I know.” The how wasn’t something she was too concerned with right now. The why part arguably itched her brain more insistently but there was no rhyme or reason for that. Wanda chalked it up to chance, or even better - chaos. And Stephen mentioning Steve and Natasha, it was like lifting one of the dark clouds responsible for her testy, surly mood. Grief had been a defining emotion that kept her feeling as if she was drowning, and having returned to all these losses - it left her hollow, made her feel alone. Clint had gone back to his family, Sam and Bucky were learning to continue the Captain America legacy. Wanda had nothing. So to his offer, she nodded. “Yes, I would. I didn’t - I know they offered housing and money if I registered but I didn’t take that offer. My experience with government has not been the best,” she answered, the ghost of an accent to her words. “I take it you will be providing transportation?” Please get her out of this pedestrian area as quickly as possible, thank you. In response, Stephen used the sling ring with a swoop of his arm, the portal forming easily - it led to the entranceway of the Sanctum. Beyond that was a weapon rack - axes, swords - and cushy armchairs; the library lay upstairs, bookcases upon bookcases, and various mystical artifacts encased behind glass, some out and placed on stands for display. His office was on the top floor and there were a few bedrooms - he’d show Wanda once they got there. “It may feel a little weird,” he started, once they’d both stepped through the sparking circle and it closed behind them. “Also electronics were quirky in New York - turned out the Sanctum was built on a nerve center of ley lines. Magical, mystical energy that runs throughout the planet,” he tacked on helpfully. “Took me awhile to figure that out, though. I did a lot of research.” He’d read the journals of the Masters of the Mystic Arts who had been there before, perused newspaper articles clipped out into heavy books, even feasted his eyes upon internet urban legends (if you asked anyone in Greenwich Village, the Sanctum was a haunted building and that was that). There was so much energy vibrating in the walls themselves - things shorted out often. They’d made use of candlelight frequently, he and Wong. In Vallo it didn’t seem to be a problem, however - maybe because everything was just so goddamn magical to begin with. The scales were tipped in magic’s favor. He turned to face Wanda, letting the cloak float off to perch on its rightful hanger. “And it’s your choice, about registering. Not everyone does. Please, have a seat - tea?” the doctor offered. “Weird does not bother me,” was Wanda’s curt reply, but she supposed she could understand what he meant - this was certainly new. It overwhelmed the senses a little. Vallo itself seemed to literally vibrate with special energy and clearly so did this so-called Sanctum with its almost-gothic charm. She would adjust. Not that she had ever a choice in those types of matters. She formed a circle with her steps, eyes full of cautious curiosity as she took it all in. It was bizarre to find a structure that was meant for back home here but Wanda figured it’d be one of those things Stephen would be explaining. “Um, yes - tea’s fine, thank you.” The way she fiddled with one of her rings over and over, sliding it up and down a finger was an expression of how restless she truly was, though she took his offer to sit. By now she knew some basic details of Dr. Strange - sorcerer, guarded the Time Stone, bit of a dick (not her words). Wanda hadn’t expected him to be hospitable by any means but she’d take it. “How did you know I was here?” she asked. “We barely know one another. Are you somehow able to track those from back home?” Her sudden arrival had somehow notified a government agent tasked with greeting her, so it didn’t seem like a ridiculous thought someone else had a way of doing it too. Stephen settled in one of the armchairs too, clay tea cups filled with hot rooibos appearing a second later - one for each of them, already in hand. “There are magical alarms on the Sanctum already, I just modified things a little,” he said. “I thought it might be helpful, considering I know what kind of timeline we’re all coming from.” A bunch of bullshit, basically. But right, speaking of bullshit. “This is admittedly a timeline I didn’t see out of the millions of outcomes - oh, the multiverse is real, of course, but ending up in one other part of it was unexpected. It’s both a busy and not-busy type of universe.” Sure, there were monsters that apparently popped up like clockwork - but the thought of it didn’t really jangle any other types of alarm bells for Stephen. As someone who died thousands of times at the hand of a Dark Dimension ruler, it didn’t rip him to shreds the way it would have someone else. Rather it sent him on some strange (pardon the pun) dissociative journey where he just didn’t find certain things very threatening at all. The silver strands at his temples may have spread since he’d taken this position as Earth’s guardian, his cheeks may look a bit more gaunt (the bones sharp enough to cut glass), but he was still all in on this and wasn’t going to cower in the face of turkeys. “Anyway, have you ever played Dungeons and Dragons?” he asked. “Vallo is kind of like that.” Was - that? Yes, she suddenly had a cup of tea of perfect drinking temperature in her hand. Wanda wasn’t particularly startled but she was confused albeit for like, two seconds. She sipped it, listened, let his words sink into her brain. None of it was shocking. At this point she was too numb to be shocked by much and she hadn’t been in the middle of anything important to miss home. Home felt too foreign now. She could almost embrace this as a welcomed distraction. Almost. “I don’t know what Dungeons and Dragons is.” Wanda softly snorted. Sounded like a child’s game and her childhood ended when she was ten. “I noticed that no one looked at you with alarm at you appearing - and floating,” she continued. “Any demonstration of unusual abilities tends to make others gasp offensively. Back home, I mean.” That word, home. Referencing it so much to herself and outloud made it sound so odd. Abnormal. It didn’t sound right. “Not everyone looked entirely human either, from what I saw. It already seems safer here.” Wasn’t that sad? She doubted danger was non-existent here, she wasn’t naive, but to have strangeness embraced openly made her feel more comfortable in her skin. Stephen often got accused of being a cosplayer or some kind of LARPing participant - so he did know what D&D was, but he certainly didn’t play. And to be fair, he didn’t always go out in full-on Master attire either; jogging pants, an old t-shirt, and a zipped up hoodie were usually what he needed to run to the grocery store, for example. He’d still use portals though. Sorry Valentine’s Day takeout person he’d offended. “A game where you create fantasy characters - elves, orcs, werewolves, things like that,” he replied. “You’re right, not everyone’s human. The barista at the coffee shop I most recently went to was definitely a pixie.” He sipped from his teacup as well, enjoying the flavor - warm, woody, a bit nutty. Not too sweet - he didn’t like sweet things, not much. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like, especially if you turned down the housing. I only recently found the Sanctum - sometimes things from home appear here, likely as a result of the magic in the waypoints. But it’s - quiet. Without Wong,” Strange confessed. Ah. That explains the Dungeons & Dragons reference, then. Wanda was admittedly a bit behind when it came to some pop cultural references - had something to do with living in a warring country, HYDRA experimentations, government evading. Avenger things. She did know what ‘hashtag blessed’ meant so she wasn’t a lost cause or anything. The cup was held with both hands now, taking another sip of the tea and humming against the rim in thought. “If I am not intruding on anything, yes, I would like to stay. I don’t think I have it in me to contribute to any noise so it may be just as quiet,” she tacked on. Not a lot of options in regards to housing at the moment, and while she knew others were around she didn’t quite know if they had space for her. Really, her on-the-whim plan had been to tap into some mental prowess and find a way into an empty apartment, or something - since joining the Avengers she had been dissuaded from any mind manipulations. Understandably so, yes, but at the moment her moral compass was a bit skewed and she frankly didn’t have it in her to care. Taking him up on the offer was the best choice. “They gave me this - it’s like a phone?” Wanda fished the device from out of her pocket. “They mentioned a network. Is everyone on there?” “You mean you won’t be listening to Beyoncé while you read?” was Stephen’s deadpan response, though it was laced with fondness. In his own way, because no, the place definitely wasn’t the same without his former assistant. “That’s fine though, I trust that you won’t be using the Sanctum as Party Central.” Wanda didn’t seem the type. She was probably tired, and about one-thousand different shades of done - which matched Stephen’s general viewpoint on things as well, so he was sure they’d get along fine as housemates. It was a big place anyway. He didn’t even sleep a lot - rather, his physical body would rest but his astral form would travel, or study, or get work done so it was rare that the two merged for actual slumber. If she saw his spirit form hunkered down in the library he doubted she’d care much about that either. “And yes, everyone’s on the network - there’s a lot happening on the network.” He’d just let her see for herself because there was really no explaining such ridiculousness. Setting down his teacup, he flexed his fingers and moved to stand. “I can show you one of the spare rooms?” A proper tour would happen at some point too, maybe when Wanda had a chance to settle in for more than an hour - he could get going about many of the artifacts and their histories, and wouldn’t want to cause glazed-over eyes or boredom. “No Beyoncé. I’m sorry to disappoint you, Doctor Strange,” Wanda chuckled - like, in genuine amusement. Her mouth even tipped into the faintest of smiles, finally cracking that neutral, stoic expression she’d been guarding herself with since her arrival. She doubted that was his type of music but perhaps it was for that Wong fellow he mentioned, who knew. The touch of her thumb against the glass lit the screen of the device up. Familiar technology - intuitive like a smartphone, she was sure she could navigate through it effortlessly. Reaching out to get an idea of all who was out there would be a priority tonight. His question caused her to blink up from it, and she tucked it back into her pocket. “I’d like that. Um - I suppose I can earn my keep here as well?” Wanda offered, rising from the chair. “Cooking, or cleaning. Something. I don’t know.” It felt wrong to free load. She ought to return the generosity somehow, yes? Stephen hadn’t been expecting that offer but it seemed to be good serendipity, since he’d just sort of advertised for an assistant on the network. He had Rosalind starting to help out in the library part time but someone from his world, and also with her own brand of magic (the red - that was chaos magic, Stephen’s was ancient magic; color usually told a lot about the origins), that would be helpful too. “I have Fantasia brooms take care of the sweeping,” he shared and he was actually serious, was the thing, though there may have been a twitch of a smile too. Stop the presses. “But - cooking? That would be useful around here. And help with the artifacts. I’ll tell you about all of them, so you can familiarize yourself,” he added as he climbed the wide, ornate staircase. He’d also introduce Wanda to the fridge creature (the demon that never actually gave its name, as demons were wont to keep their secrets) - and who knew, maybe she’d develop a rapport with it. Stephen really hadn’t, so cooking was precarious. Pausing by the doorway of one of the spare bedrooms (it was dark, and gothic, matching the aesthetic of the Sanctum), he let her go inside. “You can also decorate it how you want - doesn’t matter to me.” Magical brooms, noted. Wanda wouldn’t question it - he materialized hot tea into her hand, one she continued to nurse at her leisure so whimsical cleaning simply fit. “I don’t mind assisting with that,” she confirmed, not too sure what all that entailed but she wasn’t against keeping busy. The Sanctum was interesting, chock-full of stuff that had her mind buzzing. There was power here, a lot of it. The room was perfect. It had a bed, a door for privacy - and what’s this, a private bathroom? All the necessities she could need. “It’s a very cheery room,” she commented with a chuckle as she stepped in. Wanda didn’t mind the dark color scheme in here. Really, it matched her wardrobe. Or - what had been her wardrobe, anyway. It occurred to her that she would need new clothes here eventually but she could figure that out later. Decorating didn’t seem like something she cared to do immediately, either. Perhaps that would change later. She twisted on her heel to face him again, teeth digging into her bottom lip before speaking again. “It bears repeating, so - thank you.” Then, a smirk. “You’re not much like they say you are. Ah, what was the word? Dickish, I believe.” “Oh, no - I’m definitely a dick,” Stephen let out a chuckle of his own. It was a badge he owned though, and he didn’t make any excuses - don’t explain it, or rationalize it, just be it. That was how he tended to view a lot of aspects of his job; he was doing all of this to keep the world safe and sometimes that didn’t always include being conventionally nice. You didn’t need to be nice and sometimes didn’t even have time for it, in his line of work. But it was pleasant to hear that Wanda didn’t hate him, or feel the need to immediately shun him. A very small part (maybe) also desired company at the Sanctum, since it had been plopped into a city he was largely unfamiliar with - New York was so different. In the mornings he was used to the various sounds that accompanied the dawn of a new day - vendors unhitching their stands from beat-up pickup trucks and rusty SUVs, business people hurrying along the sidewalks with cups of coffee clenched in their hands and shiny shoes striking against the pavement. In Vallo everyone just used the waypoints to go everywhere instead of bothering with the smelly subway. “But you’re welcome,” he added. “And - welcome to the Sanctum.” |