Master of Magic

The sorcerer felt the hair on his arms and neck begin to stand up. It was a feeling he was used to, the Sanctum held more spirits than a gin shop, and he lived a comfortably symbiotic life with them. Nevertheless, if this wasn’t his Sanctum, he might have some problems.

The world’s focus gave a sudden tilt-shift, and Stephen suddenly felt himself existing several feet outside of his own body, staring at his own face.

Not the face of his corporeal body, which had now slumped with surprising grace to the floor, but the face of his own astral projection. He opened his mouth, but the double cut him off before he could say a word. Thanos… Half the universe… “The Infinity Gauntlet?” He asked. But that had been years ago…

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen anyone here. Zelma is my assistant, and Bats is my dog. I’m not sure who Christine is. Wong-…” He glanced down. “In my world, there was something similar a long time ago. Wong was caught in the Great Disappearance when it happened.”

“Christine is the love of my life. She’s the reason I do the things I do– or I should say— she’s the person that I became a better person for but— I guess where you are from, she’s not part of our life.”

The thought of her being gone bothered him but he hadn’t found her in the stone, she he was fairly confident that she’d just been busy helping others.  “She was our partner, the only surgeon I know that was as good as I am and— she was there— took care of me after the accident.” He paused for a minute, looking at the other man’s hands. “You did have the accident right?  Three years ago?  The one that took away our hands?” 

He held his up so that the man could see the deep scars that were fresh on his fingers.  After the other glanced at them, he put his hands down and looked around.  His hands ran down his cloak as Levi seemed to be reaching out the man in front of him.

Three years? What year was this? What decade? Nevertheless, with a swift motion, he tugged off one of his yellow gloves and held his hand out in front of the other doctor. It seemed only to be a fair reciprocation of the gesture. The marks seemed more faded, more irregular, but still a deeply-ingrained part of him. He stared intensely at the other, curious and calculating. More strange things... Other Sanctums...?

He let his hand drop, and began to tug the glove back on, still maintaining eye contact. “It seems our universes may be very different, though they do still rhyme. To answer your-...” He looked down at the Cloak of Levitation. There was no questioning what it was, though the stitching was more intricate than any iteration of it he’d yet seen. It seemed drawn towards him like a magnet. Interesting... He cleared his throat, and continued.

“You’re full of tricks, Wizard. But you never once used your greatest weapon.” ~Thanos, Avengers: Infinity War

I give you a feast.

@wearenotthesameasyesterday has a confused visitor

Everything here was wrong… He’d checked, yet he wasn’t dreaming, not trapped in the toying glee of Nightmare. He was in the right year, not the past or the future, he was within the Sanctum Sanctorum, which was situated as it should be, at 177a on the corner of Bleecker Street. Everything was as it ought to have been, except for the fact that it wasn’t. Familiar things, objects, whole corridors, were moved or missing. The unfamiliar had taken its place, yet everything remained same enough to be unmistakable.

If someone had rebooted the universe again or been meddling with time travel, this was going to be a headache…

“Wong?” Stephen called out, walking quickly through the building. “Zelma? Bats? I need to talk to you!”

Stephen had been walking in what seemed like a dream for days, or at least he believed it had been when he finally heard a familiar voice.  It wasn’t just that the voice was familiar to him, it was exactly the same as his own and he walked up to himself, the sorcerer knew that he wasn’t yet visible to him.  Looking down at the man’s chest, it seemed that he must have been from another reality because he was still wearing the time stone.  His fingers instinctively reached down for the relic and all they found was his clothing.  

Taking a deep breath, he reached out with both of his hands, shoving himself out of his body, bringing him into the astral plane so that they could speak.  Now standing in front of himself, he held up his yellow gloved hands, stopping himself from saying a word before he could explain anything.

“I know this must seem strange, but you’re now in my reality and in this world, Thanos has won and half of the living beings in the universe are now stuck in some sort of— I don’t know— some sort of limbo.  Myself included.  I think— or I believe that you were brought here to help figure out how to reverse all the damage that has been done. “ 

The world’s focus gave a sudden tilt-shift, and Stephen suddenly felt himself existing several feet outside of his own body, staring at his own face.

Not the face of his corporeal body, which had now slumped with surprising grace to the floor, but the face of his own astral projection. He opened his mouth, but the double cut him off before he could say a word. Thanos... Half the universe... “The Infinity Gauntlet?” He asked. But that had been years ago...

Usually Stephen was much more poised when greeting people. He was the Sorcerer Supreme within his own Sanctum Sanctorum, why shouldn’t he feel comfortably in control of the situation?

Usually, though, he wasn’t greeting the one person capable of making his brain stop working on sight. 

“Clea!?” He said, fighting to get his voice and look of surprise back under control. What was worse, (at least for his reaction) was that this wasn’t the cool, composed Clea he had last seen. This one was looking at him like she’d seen a ghost, and she needed his help, and from her voice, he could tell it wasn’t simply a matter of paperwork this time.

“Of course, ah… What is it I can do for you?” He paused, then stepped back from the doorway. “Here… Please, come in.” He was still staring, though now with a little more ordinary curiosity. She’d changed her look again, and seemed almost younger for it. He wondered what’d happened with her since he’d last heard, in addition to what had brought her here.

          a little older and a bit more sophisticated in appearance… but still so similar it hurt. it took everything in her not to tear up then and there, but she had never liked crying— especially in front of others. the fact that this stephen seemed to know her ( or rather, this universe’s version of her ) was a comfort in some ways. she wasn’t sure to the extent, but just the thought of there being another version of the two of them that had found each other was a nice thought.

          as instructed, clea entered the sanctum, not answering his question just yet as she took in the interior of the building. again, she was struck with the feeling of the place being both familiar and foreign at the same time. but it, too, gave her comfort all the same. however, the building was not the only cause of her sudden silence… she was not sure how to proceed. every speech she had prepared during her journey had escaped her the moment this stephen had opened the door. truly, she felt silly for coming here and doing this… but she had gone too far to turn back now.

          tired from her travels, and emotionally drained, she could feel the toll of her situation begin to weigh heavy on her shoulders.  ❝ i… ❞ she struggled to get out, voice starting to shake.  ❝ i am NOT the clea you know, ❞ she exhaled, regaining a small bit of her composure.  ❝ i am from another time— another universe, ❞ she locked eyes with him, the desperation clear in her gaze. ❝ s-something TERRIBLE has happened… ❞

“Clea, what’s wrong?” Asked Stephen, reaching out as though to rest a hand on her shoulder. And that’s when she began to explain.

It was some relief to him that she’d merely been reading broadly. He nodded as she explained. “You’re right about having found an opposite. The Vishanti are patrons of white magic, so to speak, and much of my own power. These…” Strange traced his fingers over the black book. “I’ve fought the likes of more times than I care to know. It’s valuable, sometimes crucial, to understand, but dangerous to dabble in, as you can already tell.” He’d done more than dabble, at several desperate points in his life, but didn’t care to think about that either.

He took a longer drink from his cup, and then tipped his head to match her eye level. “Have you found anything else interesting?”

“I Find everything about you interesting,” Verity said, a small, secretive smile on her face. “I can’t Find anything that isn’t necessary, and necessity is always intriguing. I believe there is always a purpose behind what I Find and there is probably a very good reason that you were left on my doorstep.”

Tracing her fingertip over the exact line that his had followed on the black book, she said, “Somehow I will Find the balance between who I wish to be and who I need to be. But for now, you simply have to be satisfied with who I am. To accomplish that, I’ll do what I’m given to do and try to ask the right questions…”

But the asking right now wasn’t being done by the universe. The sorcerer raised an eyebrow at Verity. “I don’t remember that spell in any of those books.” He said. It... Was hard to tell whether or not he was kidding. But ah, I suppose it depends.” Half the time, there was usually something very dangerous he had to deal with (he supposed those times counted as dates) and a certain amount of that time his companion would be the very thing he was fighting. Funny sort of world. The Bar With No Doors was always a favorite, though enough of the patrons knew his history that they’d be endlessly ribbing him if he took someone new there. Then there were standard things, dinner, cinema... A nighttime stroll through the weird and infinite dimensions.