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[suckstobestrange]

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[timeloops]

[There's a new door in the Sanctum.

It's been weeks since the accidental teleport that brought his older counterpart to the New York Sanctum, and the connection they created between their universes has seen little traffic. It's not something Stephen would normally be concerned about - he knows himself well enough to not be concerned by a few days of radio silence - but it's been long enough that his curiosity (and concern) has been piqued.

There's a shivery sort of wrongness that trails down his spine as he steps through, the gut-clenching absence that sits heavily in the air.]

Stephen?

[suckstobestrange]

[The Sanctum sat silent. So suspiciously silent.

He'd brought his younger counterpart through before- if there was an emergency he wanted him to know where to go to find him, where to go to get to a saferoom if for whatever reason he wasn't there. Better than in the heat of the moment, and the poor bastard finding his way into the kitchen or gods forbid, down to the cellar. The Sanctum had been teeming with activity at that point, mystical energy thrumming through the building, the magical flora and fauna that was kept within the walls positively flourishing.

But of all of it, any of it, there was no sign. Silent hallways, empty rooms. Windows shattered and boarded over, countless places where ruined artifacts and destroyed furniture had simply been shoved out of the way, scorchmarks everywhere. The forest in the living room gone, a burned out hollow of a place. If Stephen peered between the slats to the outside, the front seemed little better, and if he were to look with his astral sight, he'd see...

Nothing. Just scars in the earth from battle, more scorching,

Wong was again away in the aftermath, rallying what help he could, while Stephen himself was picking through the wreckage of yet another room that had once stored artifacts of immense age and power, praying against hope that he would find... something. Anything. The Empirikul had finally been defeated, but it had been such a desperate thing...

There had to be something.

The older man almost missed the call. Shoving himself from where he'd been kneeling to follow the sound. He'd not wanted to risk it, drawing the Inquisition's attention to the other dimension, so he'd stayed away from the door that had been created. Better safe than sorry, better that some world somewhere had magic still, even if it wasn't this one.

He was certainly a mess. Hair mussed, beard not nearly so nicely groomed. Cloak of Levitation gone, replaced by something else that even the younger of the pair, inexperienced as he was, could tell was a definite downgrade. He hadn't been expecting the other at this point, just stopping in the hall when he spotted him, unable to help the tension that had his jaw tensing slightly.]

You rang?

[timeloops]

[It felt like a completely different Sanctum than the one he'd last visited - a hollow one, burnt from the inside out so thoroughly that not even ghosts could remain. Stephen can feel the Cloak tightening across his shoulders as he picks his way through the destruction, a corner of the cloth anxiously twining closer to its Master, and he reaches to brush a hand against it. If it helps, he can't tell - it certainly does nothing to settle his uneasiness.

All these relics, all the power this Sanctum had - he'd felt it, when he'd visited the first time, vast in a way that his own was not - but now... there was nothing. What could have done something like this?

And where was he?

By the time his older self makes it to him, Stephen's crouched down next to the double of a relic he has in his own home. It's dead, nothing more than a broken, magicless husk, and he gently sets it down and stands when he finally hears the other's footsteps.]

I was worried. [And apparently he had reason to be. Taking in the other sorcerer's appearance only solidifies the hard knot of unease in his chest - something has gone badly wrong.] You look like hell. What happened?

[The words are blunt - he doubts he'll ever be able to really change that - but the the concern, the worry... that's real. It's easier with... well, himself.]

[suckstobestrange]

I always look like hell, just a bit more polished. Deflection, nothing new and nothing odd not from him. Avoiding the main question, avoiding the worry he could hear in the other's voice.

Passing him to come to a stop where he could scowl out what was left of a window at the mess of the front yard, expression darkening as his gaze picked over what was left. Nothing good, not anymore. God damn but he'd give anything for a single sign of life, even something as miserable as a mind leech.

Anything to show this world wasn't beyond all hope of saving.]

Honestly you want 'look like hell', give me a few bottles and I'll show you a thing or two.

[timeloops]

[He recognizes the tone, the deflection. How could he not? It's himself, for all that their universes may differ. That may work on whatever passes for the Avengers in this universe, or perhaps other Masters, but he's been perfecting that kind of dismissiveness since he was nineteen years old.]

I think I'll pass. You probably should too.

[He follows his counterpart, brow furrowing. The Cloak is all but clinging, at this point, but it lifts an edge to tentatively brush against the older sorcerer.]

And that doesn't answer my question.

[suckstobestrange]

Might be a bottle of that brimstone whiskey in the kitchen. [He didn't want to answer the question. He wanted to pretend even for a brief, unsatisfying second that he hadn't failed. That he hadn't failed so very completely, that the world's magic wasn't reduced to a tiny handful of cantrips and weak artifacts.

The fear that it might never improve.

The light nudge of fabric was familiar in a way that was somewhat painful, mouth twisting to a deeper frown. The Cloak had been a constant for so long, a familiar weight and a familiar presence, and they'd come to a understanding long ago. Worked well together. Now though all he had left was a cloak of protection that was barely functional, not nearly as powerful as he knew he'd need in coming days.]

It doesn't. Good to see those observation skills hard at work. [Stepping away from the window again, as if he might just start walking off.]

[timeloops]

[Nope. Stephen's not going to let this one slide, not even from his elder self. He steps forward to block the other's escape, planting a (shaking, always shaking) hand on his shoulder.]

Where's the magic, Stephen?

[His voice is quiet. The answer isn't going to be a good one: he can read it in his counterpart's defensiveness, the sharp edge of his sarcasm. But they'd been the same kind of asshole in the past - the not-so-distant past, in his case - and being faced with it now isn't enough to stop him.]

[suckstobestrange]

[He doubted that his behavior would put the other off. It wasn't like he didn't know exactly what that defensive sarcasm was, no matter the harsh edge to his tone.

He could keep it together. He could remain calm and simply explain things even if it might be in sharp barbs and more defensiveness. At least until he was blocked, the hand on his shoulder where he could feel the way it shook. Mouth twisting to a deeper frown as he simply shrugged off the touch when that soft question was asked, though it probably felt more like a jerk as if from a blow.]

It's gone. [His own tone flat as he sidestepped his younger counterpart, heading towards... where? He had no idea. He just didn't want it. Didn't want the conversation that he knew would follow, didn't want the emotion that came with it when he was so wrung out that he didn't know he had anything in him other than hurt and anger. At himself mostly, but the other man didn't know that.]

[suckstobestrange]

He really should have known better than to use that spell.

A spell calling on a new source, a spell from a new book. Normally he’d spend countless hours seeking out any scrap of information he could find regarding the entities invoked in spellwork before trying it himself, and with magic like this, from a darker source, he’d not use it at all. But the situation had gotten desperate, they’d been overrun, and when he’d seen his companion go down, the words all but flew from him.

Fury, fear for Danny spurring a rash, reckless choice.

Needless to say, it was over quickly at that point. He could feel it catching up to him as he shakily dragged golems from where he’d last seen his friend, just praying to anyone that was listening that he was still there, still alive.

He’s not though. Yet another friend dead because you weren’t good enough, Strange.

Trying to ignore the thought, boot-heel catching in the wet grass when he tried again to pull another of the creatures aside, pitching him to the ground with a hissed noise of pain as he caught himself against a hand, the wash of vertigo definitely encouragement for him to stay down for the moment.

First you get him killed, and now you can't even dig him out? How pathetic.

[dannyrand]

It takes awhile, but Danny's pretty capable of digging himself out. Though a little leverage would have been nice, and maybe a few less broken bones, but those were usually pretty fixable.

One of the golems goes tumbling from the pile and Danny half sprawls from the opening he'd created, flopping back so he's hanging upside down across the debris. "Okay so lets not do that again..."

He'd be offended to know that Strange thought he was so easy to kill. This was a piece of cake. Probably. Though he was a little surprised by the destruction left behind, because that was defiantly not his doing.

"You okay, Doc?"

[suckstobestrange]

Sorry Danny, he's unfortunately used to friends up and dying on him, capable or not.

The damage definitely wasn't the doing of the golems either, or the mystic who'd summoned them. They'd been more about punching and energy blasts, not... burning. Especially not to such an extreme where scorched earth was glossy with blackened carbon and swirls of the inorganic materials that made up the dirt in this area, super-heated until they'd simply melted into glass, still shimmering with dissipating heat.

He was still a bit deafened from the infernos the spell had summoned, so hadn't yet heard his friend moving around or speaking up. Back to where Danny was, still slumped where he'd fallen, not entirely new after spending too much time working and not enough recovering. The tendrils of smoke wisping from him however? That was new.

[dannyrand]

Danny exhales a steadying breath and moves himself up in a sit-up motion, trying to find something to grab onto (probably one of these thing's faces.) So he can pry his legs out from where they're trapped. It takes a little work before he's tumbling down from the carnage and landing in a crouch on the scorched earth.

Good thing this fight didn't happen in the middle of the city, like they sometimes have a habit of doing.

It's a few staggering steps on a leg he's pretty sure he shouldn't be walking on yet before he sinks to kneel in front of the doctor, reaching to cup the other man's face in his palms (sorry about the blood). "Hey... you still with me?"

[suckstobestrange]

He was aware of someone approaching, but before he could even look to see, he felt himself eclipsed as someone else, someone unwelcome simply shoved his consciousness back before he could even react.

"For the moment." Voice ragged as he spoke, but that could be chalked up to weariness. His face was hot to the touch, practically searing when Danny's hands set on skin, and while there were still some fires burning, none were nearly so close or big to explain the reflection of orange and red to his gaze as he offered the other man a faint grin.

[dannyrand]

The heat doesn't deter him, though he can feel it beneath his palms; those same hands had plunged into the molten heart of a dragon, no fire, infernal or otherwise could compare.

"I'm pretty sure you're not okay, doc... what the hell happened?" Because Hell is exactly what it looks a bit like right now.

[suckstobestrange]

"Just a new spell. Took a bit more off the top than I was expecting." The lie rolling easily off his tongue as he was pulling from Danny's grasp to push to his feet. Pausing to consider the area and the mess of bodies left after the fight.

"Looks like we got them all. Not bad." Already walking, not even waiting for Danny to catch up. He only had so long before the sorcerer would be able to shake him, he could already feel the man fighting against his presence. Better to get somewhere private where he could do what he needed in order to get free more completely.

[dannyrand]

Danny sits back in the scorched grass, watching as Stephen rises. His own stamina is shot, adrenaline draining quick now that the fight was over. He laughs out an incredulous sound as the sorcerer starts to walk away.

"I'm probably okay too, thanks for asking." There's something wrong, but he can't quite put his finger on it, it doesn't stop him from getting back to his feet to hobble after him.

"Hey, hold up--"

For iisupergirlii

[suckstobestrange]

[It had been a long couple weeks. And for the longest time Stephen kept the door to Kara’s world carefully shut. Locked even, if she were to try it. With everything going on he couldn’t risk her letting something out of the Sanctum, not in the state the place was in. But the longer things stretched on, he knew he needed ten minutes to stop and breathe.

On top of that, he needed help, for all he didn’t want to admit it, and Kara might just be able to do that, help take some of the pressure off of him. Assuming things weren’t blowing up on her side of the door as well that is.

If Kara was in the DEO building, she’d certainly hear the clunk of the old-fashioned lock before the door was pushed open, Stephen stepping through, closing it quickly behind him. Black cloak instead of red still, which just made him look even more run-down between the unruly beard and the dark circles under his eyes. And as much as his hands were shaking today, it took him several tries to fit the key in the lock to lock it again, grimacing with a low-muttered curse as he finally managed it.

At least the place seemed quiet. As quiet as it ever was, a good sign.]

for strippernameserendipity

[suckstobestrange]

[Stephen wasn't sure when the doorway had appeared in the Endless Hall. It wasn't anything odd, just another door floating in the inky darkness just by the railing. And for a nice change of pace, it didn't open to a cannibal world, or a hellish landscape. Just... a room. A bit large, with shelves like in the library, plush carpets and drapes muting sound, both with runes embroidered in. Containment spells, protections. Anti-theft.

Unlike the library however, the shelves held artifacts. Each had it's place, with a small index card in front, written in a script that he recognized as the Ancient One's. What each item was. What it did. What the downside to using it was. What quirks of nature there were to keeping the things dormant.

So, he started using it for the same purpose. His handwriting wasn't nearly as neat, not with how his hands shook on even the best days, but he could get the details down. And clearly this place had been used for a long while- he noticed another door behind a drape, and a peek through showed what looked to be endless rows of shelving, all full of artifacts in a similar manner to the little room he'd been using. But for the moment, he left that be. He wasn't running out of room, so there was no need to go poking around further just yet. He'd worry once things started getting crowded.]

[strippernameserendipity]

Once again, Claudia had gotten sorting duty, but instead of being sent to the Ovoid Quarantine, Mrs. F had shown up to explain that there was another area in need of some attention. Apparently the little side-room with its handwritten cards was a Caretaker thing, and since she had started taking a more active role, she could fill in from time to time.

It was a fascinating collection, that was sure, and several were in need of being packed up for shifting into more appropriate areas. It was one of those that had her complete attention as she carefully removed the protections that kept it in place for transport. The last thing she needed was to activate it.

[suckstobestrange]

Whatever he'd been expecting when he came in today? It wasn't another person.

Stephen stopped in the doorway, brows furrowing slightly in surprise at the sight of the strange redhead in the room. Even his cloak seemed a bit surprised, the hem ruffling a bit as if it wasn't sure whether it wanted to yank Stephen out of the room again or not.

"...I take it you're the one keeping this room from filling." The sorcerer commented as he finally crossed the threshold, letting the door swing shut behind him. His hands were empty, but there was a small bubble of softly glowing energy trailing over one shoulder, inside which was a small gold bangle. Stephen seemed content for the moment to ignore it instead plucking a pen and card from the writing desk alongside the nearest shelf, writing out the information on the captured thing.

"Nasty bit of business this one. You'll want a respirator while handling it." He was already writing that at the same time, in big bold letters along the top of the card, but if she was here, why not say it aloud too?

[strippernameserendipity]

It was only experience that kept her starting from ending up causing more trouble than a little artifact whammy. She hastily finished the transfer and fastened the case tight before looking at who came in.

"Actually, this is my first time. Mrs. Frederick usually handles transfers, since it's not really a rank-and-file job," Claudia admitted. "I didn't know there were any more active portals to the Warehouse until she told me. But then, you never know with this place. It's what keeps life interesting."

She blinked a little as she realized he was talking about the bangle that was floating behind him, and it made her look even more startled. "What are you using to do that?"

[suckstobestrange]

"The Warehouse?" He nodded, glancing back at the door he'd come through. "Self-explanatory then. It's a rather useful place, I can see why the Sanctum coughed up the doorway finally."

It took a bit of time to get the card written- between the obvious tremors of his hands, and the ache of joints, holding the pen was... well it was a bit of a trial, and if he wanted things to be legible he needed to take it a bit slower.

"The barrier? Or the floating?" She was looking right at the enclosed bangle, so it made sense that was the subject of the confusion. "The barrier is a Shield of the Seraphim and the levitation is just a basic homebrew spell."

[strippernameserendipity]

"If you believe in file-and-forget," she retorted. "Useful, well, that depends on her mood. People really don't get how dangerous it can be when something normally inanimate is mad at you."

"Shield of the... You're serious, magic? I always thought most of that was Clarke's Law in action. I mean, yeah, we can't really explain why Artifacts do what they do, but they exist, and they follow rules."

[suckstobestrange]

"Some things? It's much safer to keep out of people's hands." Like the stuff he drags in here. Nasty work every bit of it. "Angry? Like the time the Sanctum got pissed that Wong was gone and locked me out in retaliation?"

"I'm serious. Magic has it's rules, even if most of them tend to be summed up with 'because fuck you that's why' when you look at them from a straight scientific standard." Card finished, he opened one of the drawers, pulling out a clear case and a sharpie, which he used to draw out a combination of symbols on the lid and sides. "In all seriousness though, at it's core it's energy in versus energy out."

[strippernameserendipity]

"You're making me glad my brother isn't around. He's a physicist, and it annoys him to no end that he doesn't get to study the Artifacts. I've told him time and again that twelve years in a dimension bubble is enough study to last a lifetime," Claudia said, rolling her eyes. "More like she'll be sending all the energy discharges from the suppression system your way. And she seems to know exactly how much electricity it takes to do maximum damage without lasting effects. Probably something to do with Tesla and Edison both being involved in the latest version's design. Along with M. C. Escher."

She considers the comment about energy though. "I assume there's still some loss in the transfer to appease entropy. Not sure I want to know how, personally. I've already got a lot on my plate, especially since Mrs. F is taking the whole future Caretaker training thing to a new level."