I see. [ It's no surprise that any version of Doctor Strange would take this information in stride, although many might not feel the same pang of regret, the same streak of covetous desire. Is there a Christine in this man's world, Stephen wonders? Is there a Strange who still wears his name with pride, who uses a modest breadth of powers for something outside himself?
Stephen shakes it off. No, it's done. His history is no one's but his own. What's important is each step that comes after.
The water laps at the edges of the nearby desk. Stephen glances at it, frowns. Is it higher than before? He realigns his attention on the suited man in front of him. ]
Spectre, [ he repeats back. Probably an alias, but that's fine by him. It's the whiff of something else on the guy that gives him pause – though on closer inspection, it's traces of ash rather than a smoking fire. Like the man's been surrounded by the stuff, marinated in it. Something old, and powerful. Something Stephen may have beckoned through the breach once upon a time, that he may have swallowed whole.
It's done, he says to himself, like repetition will make him stronger. He keeps his face even, quirks his mouth. ]
Don't suppose that "work" had something to do with–
[ Something breaches the water behind Spectre's leg. Teeth halfway surfaced, bloodshot eyes and matted hair. Stephen inhales, raises his hands into orange, runed disks. ]
no subject
Stephen shakes it off. No, it's done. His history is no one's but his own. What's important is each step that comes after.
The water laps at the edges of the nearby desk. Stephen glances at it, frowns. Is it higher than before? He realigns his attention on the suited man in front of him. ]
Spectre, [ he repeats back. Probably an alias, but that's fine by him. It's the whiff of something else on the guy that gives him pause – though on closer inspection, it's traces of ash rather than a smoking fire. Like the man's been surrounded by the stuff, marinated in it. Something old, and powerful. Something Stephen may have beckoned through the breach once upon a time, that he may have swallowed whole.
It's done, he says to himself, like repetition will make him stronger. He keeps his face even, quirks his mouth. ]
Don't suppose that "work" had something to do with–
[ Something breaches the water behind Spectre's leg. Teeth halfway surfaced, bloodshot eyes and matted hair. Stephen inhales, raises his hands into orange, runed disks. ]
Behind you!