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Post by swapgo on Nov 24, 2023 0:09:40 GMT
Liberty pondered upon those words, and smiled. "That Is The Last Wish I'll Ever Grant You", the colossus stared down at Strange twisting its hand. Reality wanted to throw up, things flickered in and out of existence, and for a moment, the sun went out
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"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaah...uh...".
The dazed, fiendish man woke up in a blur on a lonely apartment, bothered by the sound of hail pelting his window and his phone alarm going off. It had been a while since he had such a torrid dream. He checked his phone for the push notification, "Hail's real bad. Remote work for today"? He sighed, perhaps he mixed up the takeout thursday in his dream, hopefully that was tomorrow. Well, nothing to do. The man stared at the window's hail, shrugging his shoulders and going to make himself some coffee, not realizing that the buildings in the distance were flat, and that the snow only fell directly onto his window.
-
Strange found himself back in reality, or whatever passed for reality in this place. Everything was blinding white, and there was nothing at the horizon, no buildings, no sounds, no color, the middle of nowhere. In front of him was the colossus of New York at its full height, unflinching, unmoving, its dull green an eyesore in what little sun arrived to this horizon. "It Is Clear To Me That You Do Not Respect This Reality", the words came once more, but the statue did not move its lips, the voice didn't come from it, it swarmed Strange, from all directions. "It Will Respect You No Longer". It continued making absolutely no motion. Strange would feel an avalanche of objects swarming at him from above, then from all directions, they cast no shadows, and made no noise, a swirling mass of household, office, store, and service paraphernalia, the city's entire innards were strung from its concrete guts and weaponized to pulverize the wizard. In service of Jamie, the spirit of this world bothered with ammenities such as congruency and fantastical plausibility, it no longer sought a reason to do such things.
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 24, 2023 6:22:14 GMT
Strange's eyes widened as reality twisted, from dire nothingness to an implausible tidal wave of everything. He swung his hands outwards, creating a sigil bubble of golden magic around himself seconds before New York struck him hard and fast. He felt the pressure of an entire reality on his shoulders, forcing itself upon him, straining to crush his body and mind beneath it all.
Strange grimaced, only able to hold his spell against the onslaught, one hand above him, the other below, golden bracelets framing his wrists as the magic sparked and strained against Everything. He felt his whole being moan, breaking against it all.
Was this to be it?
Strange closed his eyes. Everything he had done up to this point. All his achievements, his memories, his world. Was it really to end here? He had ended the near-reign of Enchantress, destroyed the Dreaming Zealots, been one of the best goddamn surgeons in the world and stood as the Sorcerer Supreme. Why was this to be his end?
You know why, Stephen. All those achievements were done with the aid of someone else. Who do you have here? You think you've reached the peak, but it was never just you. It was all of your friends, allies, and acquaintances that brought you here.
Strange grimaced. The internal voice was all too familiar, but all too correct. He felt blood running down from his right nostril, his bones groaning under the pressure.
No.
No.
The bubble began to expand as he wove deeper magic into it. It was sparking, screaming, but he pushed, and pushed. A whole reality on his shoulders, the weight of this world on his back.
With a roar, guttural and loud, Strange pushed back. He expanded the bubble as much as he could, the sphere growing as he put his whole magical being into it, fighting the reality warping as it came. His eyes blazed. He was Doctor Stephen God Damn Strange, and he wouldn't die in a place like this. Not while there were other people to save, realities to protect, worlds to make safe from threats like this. He was Doctor Stephen Strange!
With a surge of effort, Strange pushed one final time, looking to swiftly expand the magical sphere around him. He would search for the Statue with his mind, hunting for the target. No Space Djinn granting malicious wishes to strange half-human maniacs would stop him today.
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Post by swapgo on Nov 25, 2023 2:31:14 GMT
Reality was giving way, the strange, incongruent shapes were transparent enough to notice the statue ahead of him, it had not moved, it did not move, self-preservation, or even the preservation of this world, was currently not its goal. Strange's spell was holding against the nooks and crannies of New York, and yet through their translucent, incongruent shape, he could see its landmarks fast approaching to join the fray, the Citi Field Stadium, the Empire State, his own ridiculed shoe shop of a Sanctorum, all twisting and churning to become deadlier salvo against him. Winning a war of attrition against an infuriated creator was looking more and more difficult, whatever telling blow he had planned better come quickly or it might not at all
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 25, 2023 11:05:17 GMT
Strange held his pose for a moment, then two, then three. The Djinn's avatar was ahead, the stoic form that watched him. He took a deep breath, bringing his arms around and forward, fingertips together to form a wedge. The shield gave one last push before it collapsed, sigils twisting into a different shape. Strange created a wedge-shape around him, and pushed his form off into the collapsing reality.
He dived through narrow gaps, his sigils taking blows from buildings, roads, whatever had occupied this place before he had arrived. Strange felt himself getting pushed and battered from every angle, but his target remained true.
He aimed himself at the centre of Lady Liberty's chest. Strange planned to slice right through, and the reality behind him to either yield, or follow. Then his goal was the portal. The real humans of New York should, hopefully, have already returned. There was only himself, and the strange creature Jamie.
Strange didn't feel like dying, not today. He would aim for the portal, fast and true, and if Jamie wasn't there or anywhere in sight... at least he could live out a comfortable life within a snowglobe on his evil wizard's shelf.
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Post by swapgo on Nov 25, 2023 21:36:30 GMT
Strange was no stranger to traversing realities, traversing through a reality would prove to be more odious. The piercing, swiveling arrow had to contest through emptied lakes, chopped cars, ripped of pavement and even the loam itself as it aimed to slow it down. His spell pierced through the hollow shell of Liberty, a perfect reproduction even from within. There was nothing inside it, yet as he moved through it, it felt like he cut through something, some inpercetible, onerous presence housed in this shell of bronze that only became visible as he apparently cut through it like butter. As he emerged from the other side, the statue winced forward for a second. The world shifted to turn it around to face Strange once more, it moved in sporadic increments, freezing, then twitching, then freezing, its expression turned to not one of pain, but confusion, distress, as if it didn't even fathom that it was wounded. There was an indignated screen with similarly frozen cadence. Reality chased after him once again, but it could no longer catch up. Strange could reach the portal without further hindrance
Finding New York once more in the void wasn't difficult, even if it looked completely different. The city was destroyed, no, it was deconstructed, pieces simply were missing with no sign of tear. The ring sling portal still sizzled in the air, and no one was in sight. Somehow, Peace.
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 25, 2023 22:38:27 GMT
Strange let out a deep sigh as he slowed on approach to the portal. He looked back as the reality tried to catch him, but it was slower now. Perhaps the exodus had weakened the Djinn, or perhaps his magic had hindered it. Whatever the reason, it had lost power. He shut his eyes for a moment. Jamie was still in here, somewhere, but something told him that the man was beyond his reach. He wanted to stay here... then stay here he would. In peace, with no meddling heroes to ruin his day.
Strange stepped through the portal and closed it behind him. Before him was the way back to New York, where his real body waited for his astral form to return. What a wild day it had been. Strange hoped that this was the last of it.
With one last look behind at the ruins of New York, Strange passed back through the portal, and onto the other side.
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Post by swapgo on Nov 25, 2023 23:14:40 GMT
It hadn't been long, and yet the warmth of a real New York would surely feel so refreshing.
How long had it been? It clearly wasn't as much as he was actually in there for. It was no longer than midday, there were still the odd bystanders on the police cordon, and, well, there was still a problem in front of him. The white portal still laid in front of him, its silouhettes no longer recognizable, a blank void. It seems to have regressed in size, given it was much further than his body, but it was still an eyesore in the street atmosphere.
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 26, 2023 8:35:54 GMT
To the onlookers, Strange guessed as he re-entered his body, it would have been as if he had been floating there for hours before suddenly springing to life. Perhaps they'd think it was just some kind of magic spell that required him to stay in one place for a while. He pressed the back of his glove to his nose, coming away with blood. Strange frowned, then looked back towards the portal.
"You wanted peace forever..."
He raised his hands, gilded with glyphs and sigils, and began to work. A sphere of gold manifested around the portal. Strange began to twist, pushing it into a smaller shape, bit by bit, aiming to reduce the portal with forcible magic and skill, until... until it was the size of a snowglobe, and he could seal it with a spell, and keep whatever dangerous entity and her pawn that still resided there in a state of eternal relaxation.
"No heroes to ruin footlong Fridays..."
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Post by swapgo on Nov 26, 2023 12:15:52 GMT
The anomaly resisted, and yielded, and resisted, Strange would know for certain that someone wasn't happy with this arrangement. In the end, laid in his hand a void of pure white, upon which one could peek and see a desolate version of New York, watched over by an undolorous statue. Perhaps in a few days, or a few hours, the vista will improve, it's up to Liberty to sort all of this out. There were surprisingly fewer bystanders by now. Presumably, the first batch of people he escorted out already had reunited with their family, however, there were still plenty enough to cheer him on for his success.
The police were expedient in getting everyone down, they had already set up a method to expedite their descent after the first batch of rescuees emerged from the portal, some lad holding a wrapped footlong, wondering if his friend Jamie is alright, and a kid carrying a festive helium balloon.
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 26, 2023 16:04:51 GMT
Strange floated down to the street below, finding firm footing of this familiar reality below his feet. He took a deep breath of the air, the fumes and stench that made this city alive. Lifting the small sphere to his face, Strange inspected the scene, eyes on the tiny Lady Liberty within. He smiled to himself, pocketing it into his robes.
It had been a day, that was for sure. As police and officials came over to him for details, he thought about Jamie. He frowned, but shook his head. Then he thought about coffee. A big strong cup.
After words with the police, a few autographs with fans and photos, Strange watched the people he had saved from the other world, from the Djinn's grasp. He hoped he had done the right thing. No, he must have done. Right?
With a swish of his cloak, Strange turned from the scene as it returned to normality. What else was there to say? He still had a busy day ahead of him.
At least it had taken his mind off the Justice League for a while.
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Post by swapgo on Nov 26, 2023 16:40:30 GMT
The clamor of the streets quickly subsummed as everyone figured what to do with the rest of their day. There was a bit of a hubbub as the chief manager of Eagle Eye suggested getting back to work, after which he was justifiably chewed off, since he was spared all of this nightmare for arriving late at his own company. Chaos, for better and for worse is normalcy, a lesson that Jamie didn't take to heart.
A boy sat down a few squares outside the scene, in some hidden cranny that didn't belong to him, where he shouldn't be, those spaces did not exist in Jamie's New York. An unseen dove surprised him as it took flight, causing him to wince and let go off of his balloon, which would drift away into the atmosphere. It didn't, it froze in midair. Its string was taut, it was being held down, a disjointed hand, pitch black and unrecognizable, held it in place. It twisted its wrist to reach downwards, offering it back to the boy, who perhaps still desensitized from faux New York, took it without much thought. The hand pulled back from its invisible sleeve and disappeared from sight, offering no explanation, and the wind resumed blowing.
The dread faded just slowly enough to wonder if it was natural.
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