I Moderate (i_moderate) wrote in we_archive, @ 2006-02-26 23:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | angel, stephen strange |
i_brood Revenant // [ open to Dr. Strange]
In some dusty text that existed outside the twisting reality of the City, a prophecy was being broken. Lives were being twisted. The City snagged a hole in a dimension it had no right to know and pulled from it a vampire with a soul.
With care, a new structure was formed on the west side of the City. It was surrounded by a large yard and dark trees. A mansion was built with stone and high windows covered by thick curtains inside and bars on the outside. In the Great Hall, the very center of it, a blinding light flared and a portal opened just above the floor. From it fell the vampire, Angel, stripped of clothes or anything that would identify him for who he was in the past. He hit the floor hard and curled in on himself.
Angel could still feel the heat of the dimension he'd called Hell on his skin. The change in worlds didn't register in his eyes, which were blank. His soul had withdrawn and hid in the darkest part of his pupils. There was a brief attempt to push himself up, but he had no strength. Angel collapsed and stared at the cold floor.
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 02/27/2006 15:11:11
Normally, Dr. Strange prided himself on the connection he had with the world of the mystical. Through years of training and studying; practicing spells, enchantments, and methods of telepathic interlay between himself and the alternate dimensions which he was sworn to protect -- he had developed a certain sense of mental FedEx with the realm of the occult. And if he didn't see something preordained in some ancient text, or wasn't told about it by a large smoking Caterpillar of infinite knowledge, then usually he could count on the event being drastic enough in preternatural function to stab his aura and alert him of the change.
In the case of the vampire with a soul, it attacked him so hard and so quickly in the ethereal astral plane that it immediately jolted him back into his corporeal body.
And then he had to make himself a rather foul concoction of Tylenol and a peculiar pink liquid from the dimension of Thopa. He never had been particularly sure of what that stuff was, but it did wonders for magical migraines.
Luckily the vision, thanks to the Eye of Agamotto, was clear enough to allow him the ability to track it down. And so long as he didn't wait to go after the City's newcomer, the construction would be within a few blocks of where it had appeared.
One portal spell performed, and he found himself stepping out of an interdimensional blip and into the Great Hall of a very impressive mansion. Vision almost immediately fell upon the man who lay curled on the stone floor.
"By the Hoary Hosts of Hoggoth..."
It was a sight he'd never expected to see.
From: [info]i_brood Date: 02/27/2006 15:57:29
Angel didn't exactly have the strength to be threatening to anyone at the moment, but he still tried. He was running on instinct, he had been for an immeasurable about of time and in the dimension he'd unexpectedly fell from there were no kind strangers.
He managed to growl at the man who'd entered the room. It was a delayed reaction. He was still dazed. Angel's hands pressed against the stone and he tried to get up again.
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 02/27/2006 19:05:29
Strange kept his distance for the moment. His past dealings with vampires had been limited to a rather long and drawnout confrontation with Dracula, of which he could proudly say he was the victor, even though it came to something of a draw in all reality. Vampires weren't exactly common in Greenwich Village, and of the ones that existed they kept to themselves.
He took a few steps closer, his long cloak dragging across the floor behind him.
"My name is Stephen Strange ... I'm here to help you ..."
Briefly translated as Please don't try and bite me and make me use the Bolts of Bedevilment on you.
From: [info]i_brood Date: 02/27/2006 19:40:59
Angel failed to get himself to a sitting position and collapsed again. He was too tired. The coldness of the room was starting to register as was the silence that'd replaced the harsher sounds he was used to. The words spoken to him could only be processed, but Angel wasn't grasping them. He was in a state of shock, maybe. Or perhaps just trying to cope with the trauma of being in Hell for a century.
Angel growled again when the man came closer, but that was all he could do now.
He'd fought his way here. There was nothing left in him.
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 02/27/2006 20:05:19
No immediate threat. Even the Eye of Agamotto that hovered over his chest was only radiating a dull golden glow. If the vampire had posed as something more imminently deadly, Dr. Strange would have been alerted.
So his first task was to get this man some semblance of normalcy. And since he'd never met a vampire that felt the need to embrace the night -- please excuse the expression -- in all of his nude glory; he figured it might be best to perform a quick check of the mansion in search of decent coverings.
When his own Sanctum Sanctorum had been replicated, it came equipped with just about everything that he had in his original home in the Village. So chances were, at least he hoped -- and he was by no means an expert in probability, he was only a sorceror supreme -- that this fellow's home turned out similarly.
It took him a good fifteen minutes of searching, but he managed to locate a comfortable attire and a blanket, which he set on the floor beside the man.
He paused.
Then the Eye glowed a little bit brighter as if in reminder of something else he may have forgotten.
"Oh! By the waxing moons of the Lilac Planet! I must be completely daft. Food. Food. Oh but a vampire with a soul would ... Just a moment now. I need to check my references."
And in a puff of smoke the Grimoire Book of Earth Magic appeared out of nowhere and hovered in front of him; quite a hefty unabridged volume. Only accessible to sorcerors of the first class. He flipped through the pages until he landed upon the section of the Undead, which had quite a number of volumes on its own.
"Vampire ... soul, soul, ah! Here we are!"
He turned up his nose.
"Oh. Well. Rodents doesn't sound very appetizing. But to each his own."
He closed the book, a thick layer of dust spreading in the air as he did so, and just as it had arrived it left. In a little puffing cloud. There was no good way to explain how he did what he did next. Just let it be known that it wasn't human blood. That could have been too dangerous. And he didn't have to consult the Vishanti to know that. It was common mystic lore knowledge.
Strange was fancy, so it was a wine glass. A wine glass that appeared on the stone floor beside the growling man, and filled itself up with the red liquid he needed.
From: [info]i_brood Date: 02/28/2006 13:47:28
Hey Martymartmart, I hate to be a bore because Strange is so cool, but I don't know if I can get Angel talking just yet. So if you want, Strange can duck out.
The glass was grabbed and nearly spilled on the floor; the blood sloshed against the sides, giving the glass a thick coat that slowly slid back into a pool at the center. Angel didn't drink it with grace. It was as if he'd just come out of a desert and was taking in water he half believed would turn to sand. Blood dripped down the corner of his mouth, but was licked away before it could drop to the floor.
Angel wasn't nearly satisfied with the amount of blood running through him now, but it was enough to keep him running. He managed to grab the blanket in a jerky, almost automatic motion and put on the pants that'd been given to him. He didn't bother with the shirt. The blanket hung around his shoulders as he finally pulled himself into a crouch. His eyes were still blank and he barely seem to acknowledge the man who'd helped him, beyond the fact that he no longer growled.
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 02/28/2006 17:25:38
This was obviously going to be a longer process than he had initially anticipated. He tapped a contemplative finger on his chin. Then he waved a hand in the direction of the now empty glass, mumbled a few indecipherable phrases, and the glass refilled itself. And it would continue to refill itself until the vampire had enough. Then it would stop.
It was the least he could do.
"I'll leave you to your peace. But should you need me for any reason. Just give out a call. I'll see it on the mystic channels."
Then the portal appeared behind him, like a hazy cloud-like door, and he stepped inside, disappearing from sight.