[ Moon Knight? Stephen thought he said his name was Spectre – which, for the record, sounds significantly less ridiculous, but Stephen has cast enough questionably-named spells to know he should never judge something by its title.
Though... the name does ring a vague bell. From the inside of his self-made mirror dimension prison, he'd still been able to See – after the grief had cycled so many times through his body that he needed something else – anything – to feel. It had been tentative, opening eyes to the multiverse and taking in its outcomes – overwhelming even for him. A blur of faces and worlds, punctuated only by those individuals with enough power to shatter the shackles of their own timelines. Like Ultron.
But Stephen had at least heard a whisper of this one, along a tendril of ancient power. Moon Knight. It checked out with what he now tasted on this man's person – a remnant of influence, an old possession.
This man may not wield magic, but he's been bathed in it.
Stephen raises his brow at Spectre's admission, though he's more interested in observing him as he moves around the room – a little... agitated? Did he just see something too?
Stephen twists his wrist, forms fire in his palm, ready to strike. His eyes dart around the room even as he replies evenly to Spectre's question. ]
Not that I know of. [ The corner of his mouth twists upward, a half-smile. ] And about your Strange – don't worry. Pretty sure he'd hate me too.
no subject
Though... the name does ring a vague bell. From the inside of his self-made mirror dimension prison, he'd still been able to See – after the grief had cycled so many times through his body that he needed something else – anything – to feel. It had been tentative, opening eyes to the multiverse and taking in its outcomes – overwhelming even for him. A blur of faces and worlds, punctuated only by those individuals with enough power to shatter the shackles of their own timelines. Like Ultron.
But Stephen had at least heard a whisper of this one, along a tendril of ancient power. Moon Knight. It checked out with what he now tasted on this man's person – a remnant of influence, an old possession.
This man may not wield magic, but he's been bathed in it.
Stephen raises his brow at Spectre's admission, though he's more interested in observing him as he moves around the room – a little... agitated? Did he just see something too?
Stephen twists his wrist, forms fire in his palm, ready to strike. His eyes dart around the room even as he replies evenly to Spectre's question. ]
Not that I know of. [ The corner of his mouth twists upward, a half-smile. ] And about your Strange – don't worry. Pretty sure he'd hate me too.