The extent of your generosity continues to amaze. Let me know when you're ready, I'll pick you up.
[ And by pick you up he absolutely does mean make a portal directly beside her wherever she happens to be. It's a rare courtesy that has him await her summons rather than go ahead immediately in a needlessly flashy display with 50/50 odds of biting him in the ass. ]
[ because she won’t admit to being ready now — that would suggest she’s got nothing better to do, which is the truth, but no one else needs to be made aware of it. ]
[ Lo and behold, five minutes later barring any obstacles or preventative magicks there's the telling fizz of magic as sparks cut open the room a few steps to her left, clearing space between where she is and the Bar With No Doors 2.0, the doorless bar in Sunset Falls frequented only by the kinds of people who have a means to get in.
People like Stephen Strange, who's perching on a stall by the bar talking to the bartender, acting as though he's none the wiser to the open portal at his back. ]
[ It doesn't matter if he isn't making any grand display to indicate that the portal is his doing — she'd recognize the distinct look of his magic, as opposed to her own, even with her eyes closed, the telling sound of that crackle that heralds a widening opening for her to step through after having donned a pair of slippers so she isn't walking barefoot through the bar.
Without doing anything significant to announce her entry, she simply crosses the space and assumes a seat on the closest adjacent barstool, settling in and glancing at the space before him to verify whether he's begun partaking or not. ]
[ And there she is, right on cue (as if there had really been any choice in the matter) and Stephen finally affords her his full attention as two whiskies on the rocks are set down on the bar in front of them.
Lifting his, he raises it to her in toast while the portal behind them catherine wheels to a close. ]
Good of you to come.
[ Spoken with an edge of something wry, knowing full well she would never not have shown. ]
[ Said with a similar edge to her voice, though it's nothing that carries real significance when paired with the slight quirk at the edge of her mouth.
She's already snagging the glass, curving her fingers around it, but doesn't immediately move to take a drink, settling herself in her seat with a brief shifting of her weight. ]
Do you ever get lost in it? [ A beat, before she clarifies: ] That house.
That one? [ His one. The only one she could be referencing, as opposed to... ] Rarely. My place back home on the other hand...
[ A sip from his glass, taking the duration of the swill and swallow to appreciate the idle drift of fond memory. ]
That one gets me.
[ Whether they're talking literally or metaphorically, the hook of a distant reality makes for better conversation than dwelling on mostly empty homes turned labyrinths for lonely people. ]
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[ And by pick you up he absolutely does mean make a portal directly beside her wherever she happens to be. It's a rare courtesy that has him await her summons rather than go ahead immediately in a needlessly flashy display with 50/50 odds of biting him in the ass. ]
no subject
[ because she won’t admit to being ready now — that would suggest she’s got nothing better to do, which is the truth, but no one else needs to be made aware of it. ]
no subject
People like Stephen Strange, who's perching on a stall by the bar talking to the bartender, acting as though he's none the wiser to the open portal at his back. ]
no subject
Without doing anything significant to announce her entry, she simply crosses the space and assumes a seat on the closest adjacent barstool, settling in and glancing at the space before him to verify whether he's begun partaking or not. ]
Make it two.
no subject
Lifting his, he raises it to her in toast while the portal behind them catherine wheels to a close. ]
Good of you to come.
[ Spoken with an edge of something wry, knowing full well she would never not have shown. ]
no subject
[ Said with a similar edge to her voice, though it's nothing that carries real significance when paired with the slight quirk at the edge of her mouth.
She's already snagging the glass, curving her fingers around it, but doesn't immediately move to take a drink, settling herself in her seat with a brief shifting of her weight. ]
Do you ever get lost in it? [ A beat, before she clarifies: ] That house.
no subject
[ A sip from his glass, taking the duration of the swill and swallow to appreciate the idle drift of fond memory. ]
That one gets me.
[ Whether they're talking literally or metaphorically, the hook of a distant reality makes for better conversation than dwelling on mostly empty homes turned labyrinths for lonely people. ]