[ The guy's off to the races again, giving an enthusiastic, almost shockingly open account to a complete stranger that – at least in part – maybe explains how he somehow ended up this cursed in the first place. Not necessarily because he's irritating – although talking about your dreams wouldn't be Stephen's first choice for an opener – but because a poker face tends to be an asset when dealing with interdimensional beings. Stephen would know.

Then – the name. ]

That's... funny. [ Stephen's eyes narrow slightly, like he's just had some big cosmic joke played on him. He looks the guy over – a little more sharply this time, at more than just the anachronistic outerwear, tries to pinpoint anything that might look familiar in his features. Nothing, although that doesn't mean much in the grand scheme of the multiverse.

Just a coincidence. Probably. ]

Dr. Stephen Strange, [ he replies after a beat, extending a (thankfully human) hand against his better judgment. Jonathan will find it clammy and cold – almost unnaturally so – but at least friendly in the firmness of its grip. ] And yeah, magic. The real cursed kind. Although... sounds like you're not exactly shocked about that.

[ If there's anything Stephen can't have enough of right now – or ever – it's knowledge. If the guy's going to ramble without a filter, he'll let him. ]