IC inbox for Snowblind

[thewarningafter]

@beyonce

You've reached Dr. Stephen Strange. Leave a message and my secretary will get back to you.

Comments

[thewarningafter]

People keep asking that....

[And it's a really awkward question from a technical perspective. Unseen, Stephen smooths a hand over the Cloak's folds.]

Yeah. I'm going to go with yeah, it's alive.

[cahooted]

[There is a very long pause.]

I have a frie-- I have a relic like that.

Not here, back... home.

[thewarningafter]

...do you?

[Color him honestly surprised.]

Does that mean you're a sorcerer, or is this more about that whole...keeping things out of the wrong hands gig?

[cahooted]

Oh no, nono, no! Definitely not a sorcerer.

More of the latter, really.

[thewarningafter]

Think you could give me a little more emphasis on that no? I'm not sure if you really meant it.

[cahooted]

[Stephen, stop trolling him, he's not made for this!]

Not a sorc-... right.

[Ahem.]

... Mine's a sword.

[thewarningafter]

Where'd you get it? I was told that whole, you know. You don't choose the relic, the relic chooses you, thing.

[cahooted]

Kind of. He was at the Library already, I pulled him from a stone.

[thewarningafter]

...A stone. Am I speaking to the king of England?

[cahooted]

What? Oh, no! Not a king either. No crown.

[He laughs.]

Cal is more of a friend.

[thewarningafter]

...I can relate.

[So he cuddles with the Cloak at night. It's cold here; don't judge him.]

[cahooted]

[... To be fair, he probably wouldn't even if it was warm. Relic friends are best friends.]

I had a feeling!

When you said relic, I mean. That's...

I've never met anyone else who had one.

[thewarningafter]

You'd never met a master of the mystic arts. It's a whole thing; members of my order infuse them with powers the human body can't handle on its own.

[cahooted]

Can't say I have.

So that's your order? The Order of the Mystic Arts? Do you have a special title?

... Wait, did you make your relic?

[thewarningafter]

What, me? No. Noo.

[His voice drops on that second no because wow, no, he is not capable of making something like this.]

Master Strange, I guess? Don't call me that. I'm also master of the -- of one of the sanctums.

[Best not share locations.]

[cahooted]

The sanctum? Is that where you keep your artifacts?

[That sounds interesting; a special place, almost like the Library.]

Those are all pretty good names, by the way.

[thewarningafter]

Yeah. Yeah, we keep some of the relics ans so on there.

[That's not really the central point of having sanctums, but it is one of their uses.]

And you, they just call you the Librarian?

[cahooted]

Yeah. The Librarian, that's me.

It's not as elaborate as Master of the Mystic Arts but then again I'm not a magic user, so...

[thewarningafter]

If you think that one's good, clearly I need to tell you that my teacher's title was Sorcerer Supreme.

[And his, in another world. Stephen still wonders about that other Strange.]

[cahooted]

[Okay, that makes him laugh. Which is good. Some lightness after the past days is... really good.]

"Sorcerer Supreme"? Come on, now you're just showing off!

[thewarningafter]

No, really. And we all called her the Ancient One because no one knew her actual name.

[cahooted]

[Stephen.

Stephen, look.

He's from a world with very corny and clichéd names but you're kind of taking it to the next level here.]

The Ancient One. That's... a bit rude, don't you think? I mean, I could understand if you didn't know her age, but, uh.

Did you ask her for it? Her name.

[thewarningafter]

[Scoff.]

Of course I asked for her name. That was the first thing I asked. It's just what she was called; she had the whole...immortal thing going on.

[A sad little pause.]

Semi-immortal.

[cahooted]

You have one of those, too?

[He doesn't really mean to say it, it just slips out in surprise before his brain catches up.]

I mean had.

[Okay, that just made it worse. He stutters for a moment, clearing his throat.] Sorry. That was, I'm...

I'm sorry.

[thewarningafter]

[Oh god, Flynn, why. Stephen has to laugh, almost, at how utterly tactless that was. He makes the executive decision to pretend it didn't happen.]

Who's yours, then?