rehandle | possible endgame spoilers - the dr strange open post.

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!open post,
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possible endgame spoilers - the dr strange open post.

give me mcus or au your crosscanons into the mcu or weird space cross-dimensional magic them there I'm easy I just want to play a magical, magical man with too many responsibilities who is also a shit

pre-IW, post-endgame, an au where everything's simpler, weird side pocket universes or suspended states where characters can have some chats, space, the sanctum, post-ml au for those who are/have been in a game with me, etc. the world is your oyster and any kind of thread starter or thread genre is fair play.

drop me a starter or a prompt or just a theme/genre or idea in the body of the comment, or leave it empty and give me free rein, I'll come back at you when I have the get up and go.

please also let me know whether or not you'd be happy to have spoilery themes involved in the thread if the tag-in doesn't already make it obvious.

thanks let's get MAGIC and STRESSED

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[She sits silently in the kitchen, not out of dramatics but because it's very hard to remember to make noise. It's hard to remember to do a lot of things, honestly: look as though she's breathing, or move restlessly every so often, as opposed to simply sitting still, quiet, contained, barely there. Ghost-like, in fact, which is more or less what she is.

Sort of.

Anyway. This ghost-like thing has helped herself to some tea, alongside a bit of bread and jam, because she might not need to eat, but one misses certain things. She's reading a book, though she closes it as he enters. Watches him, her eyes darting over his body, his expression, the way he moves, the way the cloak hovers over him. Only once she's satisfied does she draw attention to herself.]

Long day?

[Ha ha, she make little joke. Rosalind pushes a second cup across from her (does she know what he likes? of course she does, and it's hot, because she'd known when he'd return) and nods. It's not really an offer so much as an order.]

It's done. There's satisfaction in that, isn't there?

[Sort of. Bare satisfaction, maybe. She hasn't seen him since Thanos' invasion had begun, too wary of that oncoming snap to stick around, but she has her ways of keeping track of things.]

[ Stephen stops still.

it says something about his state that he hadn't picked up on the traces. magic passed through, even by guests, leaves its indicators. rooms feel different, lives leave marks. then again, she's not usual in that way either.

there's a breath he's holding. it stays held as she makes her joke, as she pushes tea across the table. it stays held as she speaks and just a moment after. it's done. there's satisfaction in that, isn't there?

he could ask her to leave. he could make her leave. he could leave himself, turn and walk away to another part of the Sanctum and hope she takes the hint. open a portal and disappear to who knows where.

he releases the breath. it takes another couple of seconds of self-assessment, taking stock of himself, reforming his stance and the look on his face. there are only minor changes in the end - standing a little taller, jaw clenched a little tighter. nothing that makes any real effort to pretend. ]

There's something in it.

[ satisfaction? maybe one day - maybe for some. but the battlefield is fewer than twelve hours behind him. he's never used his sling ring to transport so many corpses.

he crosses the room, sets himself down in the seat across from her. the look he gives her is searching and sustained, there in lieu of words, a quiet check for signs of what and how much she knows, a chance for her to see him too and to make the choice to go. eventually it breaks as he reaches for his teacup, wraps hands around it, pulls it to himself like a child taking comfort in the warmth. ]

You haven't been here in the last five years, have you?

[ it's a genuine question. he hasn't got the energy to reach out his senses and search the house for traces of her, hadn't seen her in the preview for this reality - unsurprising. she's always been difficult to pin down. it doesn't mean enough to void the question. ]

Edited 2019-04-27 20:21 (UTC)

No. Not since before the start of all this.

[She'd peered in time and again, at such a distance that she wouldn't be hurt, not at all. But though she's fond of Stephen, this was a problem he had to solve on his own. Time travel is tricky enough without another factor muddling things up; she'd watched, knowing there was a chance, hoping, in her distant way, that he'd get it right.]

I saw you on Titan, though.

And I saw you on Earth, not a day ago. The moment I felt you again, I knew it was safe to return.

But that's not why you're asking, is it?

[This isn't about her. She stares at him, eerily still, her blue eyes sharp in the semi-darkness.]

How does it feel, coming back after being dead for five years?

[ it's more than he knew. blue eyes find blue, he watches her watching him. and when she asks... ]

Like nothing. [ two words that carry heavy finality. death is familiar, there and then gone. no thought, no time, nothing in between. he was erased and then returned, simple as that. just the stoppage of time.

his death is the very last to warrant discussion now that all is said and done. ]

No god. No heavenly choir. I wonder how many people will still believe, after all this is said and done.

[. . .]

There was nothing when I died. Pain, and then oblivion. And then . . . somehow, miraculously, awakening. That may have been the most frightening part. To know not only that the world has moved on without you, but that death isn't the finale you thought it would be.

[ it's rare that they volunteer vulnerability. he'd like to be careful not to stamp all over it, but he's tired and he can't relate. ]

Then it sounds like I skipped the worst of it.

[ an attempt at humor without any of his old instinct to imbue it with his usual sarcasm. being alive was not a surprise. he knew the length of time he'd be away down to the second before Thanos ever snapped his fingers and death was like blinking. either his eyes would open again or he'd never know they hadn't. when he woke, he woke to one of millions of realities already witnessed - the only surprise was in finding out which one he'd get to live.

as recently as yesterday in his own personal timeline, it might've been odd to be less human than the woman who walks through time and dimension, alive and not, dead and not. a lot of things might've been odd yesterday that aren't anymore. ]

And you're right. I can think of a few religions that might struggle now.

[ a sip of his tea, eyes closing to focus in on the hot liquid, physical and grounding. ]

Edited 2019-04-29 22:41 (UTC)

[She doesn't speak for a few seconds. It isn't that she isn't interested, but responding to his attempt at a joke won't help either of them. Instead: she nurses her own tea, letting silence fill the air for a bit.

There's so much brimming under the surface. She can sense it-- anyone could sense it-- broiling just beneath that calm facade, and she hasn't the faintest idea how to reach it. She's never been good with emotions nor words, not really; his answers to her questions are interesting, but not what she's aiming for.

Still: she tries again. She's another tactic if it doesn't work.]

So now what will you do, Stephen Strange? Or have you not thought further than your bath and your bed?

Should I have?

[ is he expected, in the midst of everything, to have made time to plan for the future?

the question is posed with his same heavy calm but the asking of it betrays the slight sting of his indignation. unwarranted indignation: the answer to his own question is, of course, yes. that's his job, his role now. to protect that which he helped to save. to look forward as best he can without a stone now turned to atoms and to help to ensure that the reversal he helped orchestrate doesn't implode in on itself.

tired, that's all. just tired. it's a lot of growing up to do in not a lot of time. he'll settle.

he pushes on before looking for any raised eyebrows, before waiting for any lilting tones. ]

The universe has done without fifty percent of its life for five years. The sudden return of everything at once will take a toll. In this dimension and in others.

[ meaning there's work to be done. meaning he'll do it. but first: his bath and his bed. small, empty rituals to help create some ties between himself and this reality. to give him space. ]

[She didn't mean it critically, but it comes out that way. Ah, well. They move on, and she doesn't take it back, whether out of impatience or pride.]

Of course it will. On a scale unlike any the world-- the universe-- has sever seen before.

[A beat, and then, honestly:]

But. Not all of that is your responsibility. And certainly not tonight. Go take your bath, Stephen. I'll even sit outside the door and talk to you, if you like.

[ oh. a moment of silence, suspended on a held breath. he looks at her for what feels like a long time, buzzing thoughts just outside of even his own reach. under-prepared for encountering kindness.

finally, cup still in hand, he pushes himself up from his chair, heavy and unsteady. his bath, yes.

and— ]

About what?

[ an acceptance. ]

[Yes, then, is what that means, and she rises, careful to do it the human way. No disappearing and reappearing, no sudden movements-- although, she thinks, if there's anyone in the universe who might understand, it's this man.]

About your reappearance, perhaps? The past five years?

[A beat, and then, lightly:]

I'm pregnant. I suppose that, too, might be a topic of conversation.

[Just gonna football spike that tidbit into the middle of things, hey, Stephen, how's it going? But really: there is a hint of roundness there. Not much, but a bit, if one's looking.]

[ Stephen falters mid-step, just about keeps his grip on his tea. you can say that as lightly as you like, it's still going to land with bombshell impact.

it's almost inevitable that he's immediately looking her over, a silent search for the signs he hadn't known to look for before - he had no idea that she was capable of carrying, being as she is, or that motherhood was ever on her to do list. but sure enough there's the suggestion of a future swell. a one-day person.

it's a little late that he manages to close his loose jaw, return his attention to her face.

what does a person say when another person is revealed to be growing a third? ]

... Congratulations.

[ and for all that the news is wildly unexpected, that in itself is very Rosalind.

turns out a lot can happen in five years. ]

Thank you.

[She smiles, and it's not the thin, nasty smirk she sometimes offers him. It's softer, pleased and a little amused.]

I wasn't entirely certain it could happen. Certainly there are . . . complications. But nothing threatening.

You look nearly as stunned as Robert did.

[ as she softens, so does he.

there's been so much unpleasantness in the past 48 hours of his own life, the past 5 years of everyone else's. but this? someone has the quiet chance for something better. the universe goes on and promises tomorrow not just for her, but for someone else. out there, always, someone thriving. and now she brings that into his home, on the day he's orchestrated the passing of a parent and seen many others go despite him.

it takes the edge off, just some, just for now. enough that when he smiles this time, he means it. ]

I'm not surprised. [ he is, he's very surprised, but he's not surprised that he should look as stunned or that anyone else should be stunned in the first place. it's - stunning. ] How far along?

[ he's a brain surgeon, don't make him rough estimate a baby ]

Two months.

[So not much at all, really. She comes around, nodding to indicate he ought to follow, because apparently they're going up to the bath. He's a little filthy, frankly.]

Though it feels much longer. I can only, ah, bring her to term when I'm within a world properly. Manifested, I mean, not simply passing through. You may see a great deal more of me over the coming few months.

[ you won't see him arguing a bathward trajectory. Stephen follows on and when they reach the foyer and the cloak rejoins them, he doesn't bat it away. ]

You're welcome any time. As long as you like. [ not that she's ever needed to wait for an invitation before, but it bears saying. extended stays aren't their norm. but if she needs somewhere to be, there's more than enough space in the Sanctum for another. ] I'll do my best to maybe even be here sometimes.

[ haha. ha... as for the rest, the biological and dimensional logistics of Ros' baby's gestation are inherently interesting, but the more pressing question - ]

Her?

[ knowledge, or feeling? or both. ]

[That's a sweet offer. Sweeter than she thought he'd be, truthfully, but she underestimates his occasional sentiment. She might even take him up on that, if only because she has missed him these past five years.]

A guess. Nothing more.

[Her, because she so badly wants a daughter. She's determined to adore a son as much as she would a daughter, if only because her own lady mother made her disappointment in her child's gender very well known, and she won't make that same mistake.

Still. Her, she says, and absently brushes a hand against her stomach as they head upstairs. The cloak is given a little nod, hello, you, but it's Stephen she's focused on.]

Though I admit, I'd prefer one over the other. Robert can live with two women in his life. I can cope with two men much less easily.

[ a huffed laugh. if that's not a mood. ]

One day you'll stop punishing yourself by actively seeking us out.

[ men, that is. the cloak flits by them and down the hall, heading for the bathroom. the sound of pouring water, taps already turned. ]

You'd raise a good son. [ which isn't to wish one on her, just to say that she'd raise a man she could be proud of. but - ] But you have the force of will to twist fate around your finger. She'll be the same.

[ between the mother and the as yet unborn child, Stephen doesn't doubt they'll be able to conjure up a daughter. ]

[Her mouth twitches at that wry assessment of her usual kept company. As he steps through the door, she turns her back. She'll likely end up with her back against the tub, but she'll at least give him privacy to undress.

How kind.]

Coming from you, that's worryingly more prophecy than flattery. I'm not sure which I like more.

Hm. Tell me when you're in the bath.

[ it doesn't take him long. eager for the water as he is, Stephen waves all the fastenings and ties undone, steps out of his clothes as though they were the water he steps into a moment later. they're left unceremoniously dumped there at the head of the tub, the energy for neatness long since gone. ]

You're clear.

[Carefully, she moves to sit down, nudging his clothes out of the way as she does. Leans her back against the tub, and some part of her relaxes just slightly, ramrod posture melting into something more casual. Not sloppy, no, never, but at least not quite as coiled up as she normally is.

There's silence for a fair bit, and then, quietly:]

I am sorry about your friend. He was unique.

But I find it admirable you could let him die. That isn't a trait most humans possess.

[ in the quiet, Stephen sinks further into the water. a lift of his hand summons jars of salts and oils, petals and potions. it's ostentatious, perhaps. but he's not going to deny his muscles their medicine, or his mind its small pleasures.

then she starts in on Stark, and he goes stiff. ]

I don't think anyone would appreciate you calling him my friend.

[ they knew each other for barely any time at all... not counting the millions of parallel lives lived out in his head. and those can't count given the choice he made as a result.

he eases again. pulls on the shroud of mild humour, some forced lightness returning to his tone. like this has all been an odd game of dice. like he's played the odds and won, but not without placing some difficult bets along the way. ]

I don't know that I deserve a medal for successfully committing to a lever-pull in the trolley problem.

[ the choice was clear. for as much of a hole one man's life will leave for the people left behind, that pain is inevitably less than itself multiplied by billions. Tony Stark had his own choice to make when Stephen gave the signal and the cost of that choice was far too high. but he saw the odds. and he made the same decision.

there's no credit Strange could possibly be owed. ]

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