14116/Yoho, yoho, a mage's life for me!

Yoho, yoho, a mage's life for me!
Date of Scene:	12 February 2023
Location:	Sanctum Sanctorum, New York City
Synopsis:	A rogue spellbook runs the risk of damnation! Stabbing! Disapproval from the Sorcerer Supreme!
Cast of Characters:	Illyana Rasputina, Stephen Strange

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Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Evening. Snowfall.

Inside the house is a new thing, or rather an event not commonly encountered. Part of that originates from an ice-rimed block that probably once served as a book. A flash of chilling cold boldly stripes the wall, probably encapsulating any panel or wallpaper. Illyana clutches her frigid hand to her chest, frostbitten and glaring absolute death upon the offending tome.

The snowflakes are very pretty, a flurry that's melting a little given the ambient temperature has not approached glacial.

Stephen Strange has posed:
Snow.

In the Sanctum.

Well, it's not the first time that has happened.

A fact that makes itself all the more clear when Stephen rounds the corner and just...pauses. Those grey eyes flicker, noting the snowflakes that seem so innocent, if they were not indoors at the time. Then, they shift almost immediately to the culprit, the icy tome that threatens to make the library resemble the North Pole...without the jolly mythological toy maker. And then...Stephen turns...

And heads to Illyana.

Both of Stephen's hands reach out, taking Illyana's frostbitten hand into them. The action is two-fold. One, to show concern, certainly. And two...to warm the digits, slowly. After all, he is a doctor...his caregiver instincts are strong.

"I see you found the winter section of the library."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Snow. The white flakes, the usual stuff that can be found across the northern hemisphere around this time of year. At least in the higher latitudes.

Illyana isn't immune to the cold, though her Russian blood helps to counteract the worst effects of a low temperature of slushy streets. The slushy Sanctum floor is another matter.

"<<Stupid book! Why would you /bite/ me?>>" she accuses the stubborn iceberg lying on the ground. Her fingers press into her shirt, as though it might accelerate the melting process, though fat chance of that happening any time soon. "<<I know your wiles. You would have me burn you. Fail!>>"

Smart of her, isn't it? Stephen no doubt will be nonplussed by her mistreatment of fellow roommates or guests in the library. She surrenders her arms to his, though the piercing glare remains on the offending pile of opaque blockiness. Nothing to see here! Nothing at all.

"It is an asshole book." So it belongs.

Stephen Strange has posed:
"Yes. Yes it is."

No argument from Stephen there. He has had his fair share of freezer burn from that particular tome as well. The good doctor shifts his hands, taking Illyana's injured one into one hand, while the other reaches down, waggling a finger side to side at the permafrost-bound book. "We've talked about this before. You hurt another one again and I will have Wong find a special place for you, guaranteed that you will not be touched or read again."

Stephen is chastising an inanimate object? It would certainly appear that way. Apparently, there is a history there.

A wave of the fingers and the book starts to defrost itself. Stephen leaves it on the floor, for now, while he redirects his attention to Illyana. "I trust you are okay? It only bit you, yes?" Both hands return to warm the cold digits. "It takes a while to warm up to others reading it."

Was that a joke? Doesn't seem that way. Stephen said that line with the straightest of faces.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"You keep bad company. I am tempted maybe to separate the magic inside it from bits. I have too many asshole books left to me by him, and they all have such attitude." Of course, that's probably why the book happens to be in Strange's possession instead of roaming the world at large. The great hazard to the mystic community: grimoires you can't trust to have your back. Naughty volumes, dark and dangerous volumes, or those simply too interesting for adults to set free.

Still, her fingers are numb and white, gleaming in speckles of ice that slowly bleed away. That will require a proper regimen of roughly chafing, running under lukewarm water, or grumpily complaining.

Perhaps less of the latter.

"I will leave that one alone," she mumbles, shaking her head, maybe deliberately mistaking his mild reproving statement as something more entertaining.

She nods slightly and then holds up her other hand. "I can still stab. It is well enough, then."

Stephen Strange has posed:
Well, Stephen cannot claim that Illyana is false. He does keep bad company. Then again, as one might suggest, it is exactly the reason why Stephen has this particular book. Better for him to have a mild case of frosty fingers than for someone else to be frozen solid just because they ruffled the book's pages the wrong way. "I do apologize. It is a fickle thing. Still, there could be worse options."

Yes, like the public library resembling something out of the movie The Day After Tomorrow.

As far as treating Illyana's fingers, there are worst ways to go about that. Still, Stephen will accept the complaining. If there is enough fight to complain, then things will be just fine.

Stephen frees up a hand once more, extending a single finger towards the book. "You know where to go. And think about what you done." With that, the fingertip flicks, sending the book flying from the floor back to its spot on the shelf, the frost quickly dissipating in the process. The former surgeon takes a moment to examine the fingers, just to ensure all is well.

And, when his better half holds up her other hand with her quip, Stephen allows a chuckle to escape him. "Yes, I suppose it is well enough at that."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The bad company rhymes with Hannah Gluten.

In fairness, Illyana isn't the epitome of a good person and no one would rightfully call her an angel. Stephen counterbalances her, but the bad days put her in territory that Baron Mordo would frankly love to possess. Better for her to learn how to be a better individual without putting swathes of the population at risk.

"We have time to stop it from wrecking the climate, da? More than the climate is already wrecked." The irony in her questions could be spread and served up with a bagel. Preferably parmesan cheese or everything.

She squeezes his hand and then stares at the offending fingers able to produce a reaction, albeit not comfortably. "Book will worry about me later. For now, we go find something in that fridge."

Stephen Strange has posed:
The irony is not lost upon Stephen. However, he also possesses the common sense to not comment on the irony. Because yes, the Demon Queen of Limbo has been known to have some bad days. And Stephen is not really eager to trigger anything that might spark that.

Besides, the fact that Illyana, after being frost bitten by extreme refrigeration, wants to go through the refrigerator for something within? That just strikes him as amusing. Though, again, he knows better and bites his tongue at the comment that threaten to spring forth. However, it does cause Stephen to smirk, just a little.

Yes, he is willing to risk a smirk. Anything more might be perilous to his health.

"Certainly, my dear. Let us make that journey of discovery together. The book is not going to go anywhere. We will have plenty of time to contemplate the best method to deal with its impudence later."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"What shall we snack on? You covet udon, a bowl of borscht, something from the ends of the universe?" She isn't likely kidding about that. If Stephen wants, there can probably be a meal from some distant world. Hala, for example. Mind, he can achieve that himself without her interference but having someone who doesn't need magic to grab a chili dog from the other side of existence means he can save all his money and energy for another purpose.

Her blonde hair shaken out, she teeters as the sensation slowly comes back to her very unhappy fingers. It can't much be helped, can it? Sore but reasonably functional, at least. He can probably outmaneuver her if she wants to slug him.

Not that it's ever happened. Perilous to her health and all.

"You say these things and you know they will derail us for whatever he will do," she says pointedly, grinning.

Stephen Strange has posed:
While it is certainly true that there is a price to be paid for magic, Stephen never let it stop him from getting a perfectly good slice of pizza from where ever he was. How else does one get New York-style pizza to Kamar-Taj otherwise? Still, truth be told, Stephen isn't exactly hungry. So he does what all married men fall back on.

He lets the wife decide.

"Whatever strikes your fancy would be perfectly fine for me, Illyana." Yes, it may be a cop-out on making a decision, but it is a decision that Stephen really has no stake in. He just doesn't eat that often.

As for being hit....it doesn't appear that Stephen is concerned about that at all. Maybe it is because of the fact the fingers on Illy's hand are just starting to get back feeling, causing that fabulous 'pins and needles' feeling that really deters one from wanting to use whatever appendage as a bludgeoning weapon. That...and he really hasn't done anything to deserve a smack.

Yet.

"Oh, I anticipate the derailment. I wouldn't be me if I didn't." Because if there is one constant in the universe, it is that chaos is a force of nature. One that Stephen has probably spoken to, at some point.