[New York] Antagonistic Roots

"Stephen Strange I see, one moment please", the marionette typed in something in their keyboard, and the sorcerer could feel that sinking, dragging feeling for a second, as if reality was rewriting itself to schedule him post haste. "Certainly, feel free to verify that all the information is correct and we'll forward you to your requested software specialist", the golem turned the 360 display around to show Strange a complex spreadsheet, it said that they were scheduled with "Jamie Jones", whomever that might have been. Most importantly, it said that Strange was here as a representative of the Metro-General hospital, and listed his profession as a neurosurgeon. The rest of the document would only become more flush with details the longer he let himself be dragged into it.

"Very well, please go ahead and enter the first room to the left, your consultant will be there shortly", the golem motioned to the hallway on their left, and got on the line through the phone on their headset. Any dillydallying or snooping on this conversation would be met with the same inquisitive contempt as before, so it was best to hurry.

The room wasn't very large and had one entrance. One side had a laptop base and a single, much more comfortable looking chair than the other side with two metal seats. It was a multipurpose room and therefore was scantly decorated with anything but a whiteboard and one of those cursed-looking single line calendars. No sooner than 11 seconds had passed before footsteps could be heard approaching, and his host opened the door. Suddenly, the dizzying feeling of staring back at a formless void would return to him.

"Alright, first timer, what, have, we, here"



A pale-white man holding a laptop under their arm entered the room, and that was about the most describeable trait he had. He wore pants and a plaid shirt, or at least, a hole in spacetime in the shape of one, the former being pitch black and the latter being a black and blue crisscross on a pale pink backdrop. Some strands of his split, neck-length haircut ended on cables for different ports, and while the sharp chin and perfect smile were more humanoid than the simulacrums he had dealt with so far, his eyes were covered by large square glasses that perpetually glinted from all angles, making discerning whether he shared the same eyelessless impossible. Despite all these unearthly traits, he did move in a congruent manner as opposed to the backdrop simulacrums, and halted with rather exentric interest as he regarded Strange.

"Wow, the name had me fooled for a sec", the strange programmer muttered to himself, closing the door behind him and preparing his laptop on the stand. "Name's Jamie. How has your day in New York been?", he asked, "Mine's been great as always", and answered his own question with barely any space in between. Whatever his intents were, he didn't suspect Strange of anything yet.

"Ah my credentials, sure, we can start there", Jamie dodged the question, maybe. "Graduated with honors at Princeton as an accountant, then majored in programming sciences, being the future and all that. I'm sure you won't settle for less, so I guarantee you've got a financing wizz in your hand", he elaborated, whatever this anomaly was, it purported to have a human background, whether it was a matter of assimilation or obliviousness was to be told. "Hadn't seen you here yet. Must be nice, right? The peace and quiet for a change?", he added, seamlessly typing in his laptop to bring all the necessary details up. "Surgery though that's-yikes, I couldn't handle that. Sounds messy, meeessy messy. Props to you!"

"Brother, medics must be built different. Everyone else's wilding around things being scary, or bleak, or worse off", there it was, a guiltless admission of guilt. "Man I thought I was going to like New York but yikes, do you know what it's like going through 3 cars in a month? All of them crushed by some freak in a suit, SOME of which people cheer for!", Jamie peeked from behind his monitor, as if expecting some sort of rapport, before continuing. "Dimensional portal this, meteorite that, grand heist here, mutant controversy there, and on top of all that horsecrap the bossman wants in on crypto? CRYP. TO.", Jamie slammed his hand on the desk, rattling the contents of the table. "I'm so glad it's all gone, I'm so glad I can have a nice cup of joe in the morning and walk to work without having to check the road for some shadow government tank vehicle or some vat-grown kaiju wrecking the 7th", he relaxed. The extent of Jamie's delusion wasn't clear, as he hadn't refutted that this wasn't New York, but even through the rather warped tone of his condition, he sounded earnest in his pursuit of tranquility, not seeing any wrongs in wanting nothing, absolutely nothing, but an earnest day at the office.

"Not a deal, it is how it is now", Jamie took the whole thing for granted, quite enthused with the conversation and focused in his work, muttering something about how things are going swimmingly at the hospital so far, after all, it could never not be as such. It was quite deep into Strange's rethoric that he peeked from his screen and halted, his glasses reflecting a circular, void, as if it made do for a lack of pupils to contract, up until they reflected only red.

"SECURITYYYYYY!!!"

Strange wouldn't be allowed to even finish reintroducing himself over Jamie's shrill, desperate demand. The world whisked around him for a moment, and two pairs of the faceless poppets that were most certainly not there sought to seize an arm each to hoist the sorcerer in place. It was an adequate conclusion to draw that there was more to this corporate ladder, but no, Andrew had led him straight to the source, and the world noticed. "I won't let you take this from me!", the man raged as he ripped the laptop from the secured base and flung him at the sorcerer. In midair, the batteryless screen turned on once more, displaying a white, predatory stare, and its keys, some that had been ripped apart by the motion, turned to bony fangs that sough to clamp onto Strange's head.

Jamie ducked away from Strange's rebuttal, it was bedlam, chaos, not again. The man picked up his cozy rolling chair and flung it with little heft, the spinning wheels on the bottom spinning wildly and detaching themselves from the construct to tangle itself on the lashes, while the rest unfolded and unscrewed itself in all directions to further confound the sorcerer while he made a quick exit through the door. "Can't be if you're all bad!", he yelled and locked the door behind him, seemingly escaping to the left deeper into the consulting offices given where his voice was fading from. Matters would get very complicated if the fighting took them where the presumably real people were being held hostage.

Marching could be heard coming from the right side as more simulacrum rallied to impede Strange. The door was unchanged, but smelled of treachery; while it would open with no protest, it would clamp down and stab the doctor in the back with its handle should he try to cross it.

The door creaked and curled uncannily as it was torn asunder, the handle seemingly twirling in a deathrattle. With the armchair repurposed by Strange's superior magic holding the horde back, Strange could take the left hallway to an office room with windows to the bleak outside. There wasn't a door to be disarmed this time, but he would immediately be greeted by another wheeled chair that was pushed towards his directions suddenly revving up and swinging its backrest like an axe with such strength to lodge itself to the wall, eliciting startled gasps and calling attention to the sorcerer.

The office was, in fact, full of people, while a handful of puppets stood in for people that were ill on that day and looked quite unmoved by the attack, everyone else was either confused and/or horrified after Jamie had run past them with no explanation. "Help! It's some crazy wizard guy!", Jamie yelled as he continued to drag things from the desks to the floor and hurl unatended chairs in the way as he made his way to the fire exit, prompting everyone to duck from cover for the soon ensuing bedlam. The few simulacra on the office stood up, and as they stood up they multiplied in a disjointed blur, trading their everyman casual Friday outfit for police riot gear as they approached to apprehend Strange.