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Post by Beriadan on Oct 6, 2024 12:08:42 GMT
Don't waste a fucking second.
Wise words from a wise bartender. Stephen smiled at the thought. Was he just running away yet again? Theresa had terrified him, overwhelmed him, but why was that any different to what he faced in daily life? It would be easy to lose someone like that. He frowned.
"Right... sacrifice. Except it was never my sacrifice to make. I have to live with my choice. They never got the choice to live."
Strange smiled, sad and soft. He watched the bartender begin to rise up, and watched the man with interest. A story like that should be worth a drink, and he wonders what kind he will get. The small bottle was a surprise, and Strange could feel the importance of this before Rickt began to explain.
"The last of its kind..."
Blood Nectar. A sacrifice for a sacrifice. Strange viewed the bottle with care, staring at the liquid inside of it. A lost product of a lost craft from a lost planet. What would Superman think if he knew of this?
"A precious gift indeed. I'm glad my story was worth such a thing. I am intruiged at how you would prepare such a drink. With your masterful hands, I'm sure it will be worthy of Krypton's memory."
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Post by Countess on Oct 6, 2024 17:16:03 GMT
Ricky reaches below the counter, pulling out a small glass. It is somewhat larger than a shot glass, almost like a step up from it closer to a whiskey glass. He also procures a metal device that he places over the glass. It rests perfectly over the opening and has many little slots on it. He rummages for a moment, then with a noise of satisfaction, places what looks to be a sugar cube on the slotted metal. Slowly, he pours about half of the thick, blood red liquid over the cube, and it slowly eats away at it, dissolving with a fragrant, floral smell.
"Well, I have been waiting a very long time to serve this," Ricky says, beaming as he removes the metal and sugar. What remains is a thick, sweet, now more purple drink for the Sorcerer to try. "Tell me how it is~" he says, placing the glass before Strange.
Ricky puts the stopper back on the drink, then lets the bottle drift gently back up to its place. It would be wasted on him, truly. He would just forget it, but Strange... no, he will carry something on.
"But be careful, I hear it can knock a man on his ass," Ricky adds, perhaps a little too late...
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Post by Beriadan on Oct 6, 2024 17:41:31 GMT
Strange picked up the glass, inhaling the floral fumes, savouring the purple vibrance that swirled before him. He looked up at Ricky and smiled, then knocked it back in one go before the bartender could warn him of its potency. It was like an explosion in his mouth, sweet fire lashing through his throat. A meadow, fresh growth in spring as the flowers come alive and spread their pollen. Birds in trees, new life, promises of a vibrant future where life presses on. Strange blinked. "Well, that's something."He blinked again as the room began to distort and swirl. He grinned, stupidly, placing the glass carefully on the table with shaking hands. "Wow. That's a drink. That's... a drink. Like ingesting a whole season. The universe has lost... a great thing."
Strange frowned, suddenly at a loss of descriptive words. His brain felt clouded, foggy, like a morning of mist and dew. He focused on Ricky, squinting slightly. Whatever Kryptonians had put in this drink had a potency to make even the Sorcerer Supreme drunk. And it felt like he was continuing to get drunk, like the alcohol was now running through all the vessels of his body.
"Another? Something... hmph. Stronger. Stranger." |
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Post by Countess on Oct 7, 2024 15:03:53 GMT
"Who am I to deny you, Doctor Strange?" Ricky says, perhaps the most gleeful of all the enablers. Let the man have a night off, it isn't like he can't ask for instant sobriety. As if he can't do it himself, to be honest. "Stronger. Stranger...." he murmurs, tapping his chin. There certainly are a few that he could give his man to imbibe, but he isn't quite yet sure if he could truly take all that Ricky has to offer. Some of his offerings leave a lot to be desired in the morality department. Usually simply because of procurement, but one in particular is harvested from the thoughts and minds of a certain alien species... At best, it is a predatory market, using the lowest classes for their bodies in exchange for a little cash. At worst, it is an entire trafficking ring, using and tossing them once they are no longer viable for extraction.
The universe is a wide, often cruel, place.
"Ah, yes, I have one that fits this criteria..." Ricky says, snapping. He pulls out his wand, as well as a plate, and he begins his transfiguration. The air itself starts to fizzle as a clear, jelly like ball appears on the plate layer by layer. If either of the men knew of current technology, it could be compared to 3D printing. In the center is a smaller pit, appearing fleshy and suspended perfectly. It is the color of the inside of a kiwi, a brilliant green.
"You eat it in one bite, the inside is mostly liquid," Ricky says. It sounds like a jello shot mixed with a soup dumpling. "You do not want to know what it is made from, but I assure you, it is decadent," Ricky says, winking. In actuality, it is one of the tamer ideas he had, it just probably is best the Sorcerer doesn't know it is an egg. Well- not yet, at least. The flavor isn't sweet, but a sour umami, almost like a thai coconut curry. The most interesting part, however, isn't the flavor or texture or source... but the effect. Strange won't experience it here, but perhaps in the coming nights... Absolutely vivid, lucid dreams, do the point of being able to navigate through them, and into other more secret places.
"It is called the Dreamwalker," Ricky murmurs. "Don't be surprised if you find yourself in other's dreams in the next few nights, but don't delve too deep. The Dreaming is a place you do not want to get lost in," he says, grinning.
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Post by Beriadan on Oct 7, 2024 17:38:05 GMT
"Dreams..."
Strange watched the strange orb form itself before him. He focused on it with some effort, plucking it from the air and studying it. Fascinating, the still lucid parts of his brain thought. The things that this man could do in the name of alcohol.
"I... have walked dreams before. Kael... Kal... Carlicus... the Dreaming Zealots, they were called. Nightmare was their lord, and they... wished the world to be under his domain. Karma... Kord... the Zealots made me..."
He placed the orb in his mouth, squinting as the liquid poured out and down his throat. Strange swallowed, feeling a wave of warm sleepiness wash over him, as if he was in a lucid dream right now.
"They opened up the portal... so I faced Nightmare myself. I saw my sister... over and over and over and over and over."
He spun his head as he spoke, then stopped, starring dead ahead as if he'd seen a ghost. Then, Strange looked at Ricky, and gave a goofy little grin.
"The Zealots got their wish. I let Nightmare take them in exchange for our world. Stupid, the things we dream of. Plunge the world into a waking nightmare, just for the promise of an inch of power..."
Strange gripped the table with quivering hands, blinking one eye then the other.
"Zounds, that's... a powerful drink. Drink? I ate it. Food. A powerful... food. How drunk can a wizard get here, before he gets cut off?"
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Post by Countess on Oct 7, 2024 18:29:48 GMT
"Oh, my sweet Sorcerer. I would never send you to Nightmare," Ricky says, chuckling darkly. "Not unless you asked me so very prettily, maybe even begged..." he murmurs, eyes going off into the middle distance briefly. He is in the most delicious stage of drunk, the part with so much promise, so much confidence, so much smoothed over and forgotten... He should have been this drunk with Remy...
The sister. This haunts his Sorcerer Supreme, doesn't it? Something inside him wishes to reach out, reach in, and pluck that sad little note within Strange's soul. "I offered it to you before... I shall do so again. I can heal your memories. I have learned how, for you. If you want it, I shall give it. For a favor, of course," he says, grinning like the devil he should have been. He already knows the favor, too. Something small and paltry, to make the Sorcerer Supreme come back for more... and more... and more...
Ricky thinks on that question, ruminating. "Well, I am beholden to no laws, aside from the ones I have myself. I cannot let you come to harm here, and while some could argue this amount of inebriation is harm... none of what I have created shall hurt, Stephen," he says, explaining something complicated to a very drunk man. "You will get cut off when you want to stop. No more, no less. I will keep you safe while you are within my domain. Should you leave, well, then it is on you, my dear," he says, tilting his head to the side as he leans onto the bar.
"Have your fill, and then some."
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Post by Beriadan on Oct 7, 2024 18:39:01 GMT
Strange was quiet for a while. Then he tapped his finger on the bar, looking at Ricky, eyes slightly unfocused, but also keenly aware. There was still thought and intelligence behind those eyes.
"I would do anything to see my sister again."
Strange swallowed, tugged his goatee, and nodded as if to himself.
"I want to remember her, and then forget that I remember her. Then I want to remember her all over again when I wake. As if she was always there, and as if I was a decent brother who didn't forget the sun to his world."
He smiled faintly, eyes still on the Mage, full of an intensity that betrayed his drunken exterior. Strange nodded again, firmer this time.
"I will regret forgetting the rest of this evening... but I want to drink and forget it all, for a while. Then, when I wake, I'll remember you. I'll remember my sister. I'll remember Theresa. I can... go forward from there."
Strange put his palm upwards, the stitches of his past evident, hand quivering. He nodded.
"Anything. For one second of a memory of her. You can have anything within my power."
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Post by Countess on Oct 7, 2024 18:57:26 GMT
Oh... how sweetly he begs. Ricky shudders, looking away. He had a plan, ask for something small, but now... now he doesn't know. Anything in his power? Damn. Fuck. He could- no. He wants to drag this out forever, this game that is just starting to emerge. He wants this man to be his friend, over and over, playing together like this forever, new to Ricky every single time. He licks his lips, hungry for something he can't quite place. It feels wrong, what he is about to ask. But he can't help himself, not when Stephen Strange is looking at him like salvation.
"I can do that," Ricky says, something hoarse in his tone. "In return, you will break my curse," he says, the words so easily given. It will never happen, but they will be bound forever more. Even now, Ricky can feel the threads of fate tightening around them. Funny what a night of drinking will do.
"I will give you everything, and more, Stephen," Ricky says, walking through the bar as if it were air. Power starts to swell around him. "I'll make it sweet. I'll make it kind. I'll take all your regret, all your guilt, and make it acceptance... and forgiveness. Every time you remember her, it will be novel. Sometimes the same memory, sometimes a new one. Fondness, laughter, little moments. Sometimes hard ones, too, the ones we don't want to remember, but I will make sure you do. Yes. In the years and decades and centuries, you will find yourself listening to a song, and remember how she sounded when she sang it," Ricky says, and his words are the spell itself.
His eyes start to glow, sunlight on a clear day. His skin starts to burn away, raw power being unleashed from underneath. "Be not afraid," Ricky murmurs as he, truly he, the conduit of all Life and Good and Healing and Protection for the universe moves closer into Strange's space. By the time he gets to the Sorcerer, he is nothing but light.
"She was always there, Stephen. Nothing is really lost, everything stays, right where you left it."
Then, he walks through Strange, and it is... beautiful.
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Post by Beriadan on Oct 7, 2024 19:14:55 GMT
It had been a thought that had played around his mind since he had met Ricky. Strange smiled, then nodded quietly. He would break the curse. If he had to move heaven and earth, the Sorcerer Supreme would do so. He pressed a finger against his temple, and a golden spark flared between them. A memory, no matter how this night went.
Strange closed his eyes as Ricky started his magic. At first it was subtle, like the faint glow of morning. Then it grew, powerful magic, powerful words. The light burnt through his eyelids, yet Strange didn't dare open them. He wanted to focus on the memories. And... they came. A trickle, then a flood. Her laugh, her face, the moment he first remembered and the last. Happiness and melancholy, a storm of emotions that whipped around him.
He could only grit his teeth against the exhilaration that Ricky gave him. Pure light, pure beauty. Ricky's being became everything he saw. The halo around his sister's long forgotten face. It was more than he had hoped for.
"For this," he said, murmuring quietly into the nothing and the all, "I will break your curse, Ricky."
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