10203/Chimerical Connotations

Chimerical Connotations
Date of Scene:	20 February 2022
Location:	Sanctum Santorum
Synopsis:	Strange contemplates the somewhat recent chimerical shenanigans. Illyana laments the lack of recognition of proper female magic users for the younger generation. The considering of thinning boundaries is put on hold for tea and a ring.(?)
Cast of Characters:	Stephen Strange, Illyana Rasputina

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Stephen Strange has posed:
It has been some time since the excursion that took a pair of sorcerers on a tour for sparkling animals. And...that resulted in discovering that there was some force out and about that was enjoying a bit of transmogrification at the expense of a half dozen or so of people...including a little girl's mother. A little girl that now has her mother...and a small corgi puppy delivered to her door under mysterious circumstances a day or so after the incident.

Mysterious how that puppy just appeared out of nowhere.

Still, the incident did not leave the mind of one Stephen Strange. True, he has been busy as of late, with certain goings-on in the Astral he was keeping an eye on, among other things. But...the shapeshifting has always captured a bit of his thoughts. And...it does so now, as Strange sits in the study, his eyes closed as he meditates. Or...thinks..or whatever handy term he would use to describe something that is little more elaborate than musing. Why the shapeshifting? Is there any particular reason for the animals? Why now, with everything else that is going on.

And, perhaps most importantly, why does it seem that these sort of breaches in normalcy (at least for the muggles) are happening more often?

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Sparkling animals and transmogrified beings are just in a day's work for the sorcerers. A woman turned into a corgi doesn't happen every day. A corgi delivery from the good Doctor and his not-physician partner, even rarer.

"Hermione," she grouses. Illyana is unimpressed. "Other lady wizards out there. She is good but the writer, not good at all." Her fingers fan along the bare line of her waist, the black top and low-slung pants unsuitable for any climate not in San Diego or somewhere in the Mediterranean. "I am not a know-it-all. Am I?"

Dangerous, very dangerous questions to ask the man meditating practically up there, legs crossed and features set. Her eyes narrow.

Short-shorts and the belt. Thanks, psychoreactive armour.

Stephen Strange has posed:
The eyes remain closed. There outwardly appears to be no reaction to the question. Really, though, should Stephen answer? It does seem one of those set-ups that any good partner knows when to avoid.

Which...Stephen does.

"No. Though you do know more than most." An eye opens, turning to focus on Illyana. "Which is not a bad thing." The eye closes again, only this time a finger taps upon a knee lightly. "Neither you nor I would certainly know everything."

That eye opens once more, taking in the sight of said short-shorts and belt. "Why the commentary on fictional wizards?"

Does Stephen really want to know? Yes...yes it seems so.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Silly armour is silly, though hardly required here. Maybe Illyana dreams of a greener spring somewhere other than New York. Daffodils already poke up in France. Southern Britain when not lashed by storms has pussywillows, and New York has feet upon feet of snow. It's almost balmy by her consideration.

"The little girl. She asked if I was like Hermione. She is the only girl wizard most children know, why?" The question rings with no particular force, and she rests her hands in that position that would take on the world with her feet apart. "We are not all Hermione. Russian stories have more than that. Vasilisa, who no one knows here. Marya Morevna, more cunning than Koschei. She was like magical Penelope. I see young people without much choice, da? Hermione or Morgan. Morgan who is terrible."

Stephen Strange has posed:
That earns Stephen's full attention. The dilemma of who is practicing transformation magic goes by the wayside as the topic of famous literary magic users is broached. "I would imagine that it is due mostly to the rather impressive movie and social media presence that the particular franchise generated. I am sure you have noticed, perhaps, that it is impossible to step into a shopping center without a storefront presenting wares based on everyone's favorite British boy wizard and his friends?"

A pause...then a correction. "Most everyone, at least."

"We cannot fault the little girl for her lack of education, but rather her educators for the lack of variety." The head tilts as Stephen offers a wry smile. "It bothered you, didn't it? I assure you, she meant no harm. She was rather taken with you, you realize. Being compared to Ms. Granger was most likely meant as a compliment."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Who troubles children isn't a question that Illyana knows he ponders. Stephen's mind is walled off to her without significant effort, and the casual easing back of colossal amounts of dark energy protecting her sovereign thoughts from being plucked cannot happen. It's not casual, a mere act of opening the curtains.

"Have you eaten?" A question she asks carefully, so as not to imply he has no idea how to take care of himself. Of course he does; residency merely teaches someone how not to do it when caring for other patients whatever they are. "Stores have him everywhere, da. No breathing room for others to flourish," she grouses.

Maybe, yes, it irritated her, but maybe there might be another grounding reason underneath. "She is not a bad girl. Like Barbie, da? Children know what they play with. Maybe Lego, maybe Barbie. They relate back to those things. She will remember the magic, and what happens next? Is it going to be her living story?"

Stephen Strange has posed:
Yes, Stephen does know how to take care of himself. That fact was never in doubt. Surely he had to know, or else he would not have lasted as long as he had. Though, it is possible that Wong ensured that Strange did not perish. But...did the good doctor actually have any sustenance yet?

"No. Not yet."

Well, that possibility that Wong is responsible for Stephen living is beginning to look more concrete.

Back to the topic at hand. "No. She was not a bad girl She was only concerned for her mother...and her dog. And now she has both, separate and whole. She will remember the magic. You and I...we will be a part of her own tales. When she has children of her own, she will tell the tale on how a strange magic animal doctor with a red cloak and a young blonde woman who was both like and not like Hermoine helped her and saved her mother. If believing in a fictional witch helps to accept magic as being real, then I do not see an issue with this."

Another pause. "Did you want to get something to eat?"

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Wong deserves a pay raise. Unfortunately, being Sorcerer Supreme doesn't entail coming with a paycheque unless someone draws their income from another place. Say, an entire hell realm. A country. A weird realm outside space and time. Cash reserve may be poor and may not.

Illyana frowns briefly when Stephen starts. "Magic is not bad. She may need to hide what she knows, to keep it secret. No one will believe her now but what about later? If she tells the tale, they call her liar, then what? We are not in an easy place. Imagination fuels stories. Stories fuel power. She will sink or swim by that."

Her thoughts cloud and swirl, not pushed too far one way or the other.

Stephen Strange has posed:
"I believe she will swim. She strikes me as such. If she holds on to the truth within her, she will be just fine. Besides...she has her mother to collaborate." Stephen certainly didn't use a memory charm to have the two forget. At least, not at that time. There was more at stake at the time.

The former surgeon finds his feet, which take him to the blonde. A finger reaches out, just grazing Illyana's left cheek, as those grey eyes of Strange's regard her. "This isn't about that girl now. Do you see parallels of you within her?" The hand drops away, but Stephen remains close by. "Here I am pondering chimerical conundrums and you are worried about how the world will treat a little girl. It's very touching, you know."

And....from the tone of his words, Stephen means it. Granted, he cared for the child, too. Perhaps the two of them are getting soft.

Yeah....probably not.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"What do you think about her mother?" The curious cut of her brows lifting under that pale golden fringe would seek to draw out Stephen on the matter, though Illyana doesn't much vouch to her own thoughts. Possibly because you don't judge a woman turned into a corgi. Floating corgi butts aside, or those happy floppy ears, it's still a person returned back to guard her child.

She tilts her head up to the touch against her cheekbone, and the illustrated arch of those brows doesn't cease. "Any child with magic runs a risk. It will not differ what country or place. Some born to gifts, others developing them, they must face a world that does not accept such things as normal. Would it turn to poison for them when harsh and negative eyes turn to them? Have we made things harder for a child?" Questions that fall like rain between them have a slow, steady cadence. She holds out her callused hand, proof of earning her title by violence and retaining it by the sword, not by kind words. "What is this chimerical conundrum?"

He would separate himself. One to chase it. "How to fit ten people in room for two?"

Stephen Strange has posed:
"Clever..."

What is clever? That last question. Of course the answer is to form a chimera. But...that isn't exactly the sort of problem Stephen was contemplating. "I was pondering the basics. Who is performing the unwanted conjoining of animal and human, for one. And why. I will admit, it is a welcomed distraction from events in the Astral...and perhaps our little dog tender inspired the considerations. Still....it does seem that these sort of breaks from the norm are becoming more frequent as we progress."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
What is clever? Is it cheating a system and winning a medal, bypassing a weakness and overstepping a boundary to achieve something unexpected? A twist of words, a dance of ideas?

Chimerae are strange and wondrous things, after all. Not only transformative and transgressive combinations of concepts, but the mashup of what shoudn't and what could be. Her fingers crook and Illyana pulls Stephen by the sleeve, insistent on dragging him out of his current space. Food may be on the mind. Or maybe another matter, something to feed the soul instead of the body, the heart instead of the mouth. "Astral events could be related. What do you think?"

Stephen Strange has posed:
A mashup of what could be...and what some people think shouldn't be. That feels strangely familiar. It could describe the current relationship between the two. And...if using similar definitions, then that conjunction could be considered clever as well.

Stephen certainly considers his counterpart, as she leads him on by the sleeve, as clever. There are others, as well, but Illyana does count upon the highest. Which is why, when she does pull him along as if on a leash, he does not complain in the slightest. Perhaps he has sat in that study too long. Stephen could use the change in scenery. And sustenance, of whatever kind.

Though...before the two wander free of the study, an answer is given. "I think that I would not be surprised in the least if the barriers that guard this dimension from others are wearing thin. With the assaults that this realm has endured, I am surprised that there are not more incidents. I mean, it certainly did not do us any favors to have an universal reset not once but twice in recent memory. I think it would do us good to look furthers at the borders and ensure there are no cracks in the walls protecting the Earth from its less savory neighbors."

A beat. "But....that can wait until later." Yes, it is time for the doctor to recharge, both mind and body. And Illyana is brilliant enough to see it.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
What couldn't and are. What shouldn't and do. A strange combination, possibly.

The Sanctum is not exactly at Illyana's beck and call, but she brings groceries and probably doesn't concern herself over stooping to steal groceries on occasion. Besides, she can turn in a few favours to make a delivery happen without stooping to theft, honestly. The world needs better social safety nets, a Hell-Lord notwithstanding.

"The barriers suffer with the complaints of Heaven," she says. The dark slant of a look to the corner leaves a sparkling, harsh regard stripped of anything gentle, anything kind. "Such enormous things brought fully into the world fray edges. They would break and bend like worn cloth. Holes spreading out show how fragile it is. But no one has taken a hard look at causes. The reset may be deserved, at this point." Her teeth grind as they head into the kitchen, her mood not the best for a moment. "Why have we faced this over and over? Questions to think after avocado on toast."

Her hand waves near him. "You will have tea too, da? Too late for coffee. Make a meal of late dinner and we can talk about a ring."