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The guardian spells swish into the living room at the instant of knuckles on the darkwood doors of the Sanctum. Sprawled on one of the chaise lounge sofas with open book dropped across his chest, the master of the mansion naps. His mouth hangs ajar, relaxed in sleep; the weariness has slipped from his face, taking away the years at the corners of his eyes and the worries that work a divot between his brows. The wards start off gently with riffling his hair. He sniffs and turns his head away, still beneath the surface of his rest.
Hmm, a bit more aggressive. The silvery mist condenses before poking at the Sorcerer's cheek. Give occurs on the skin and he frowns, bringing up a floppy hand to bat at whatever disturbs him. "Staaahp…" comes the mumble, extra nasally for sleep and lack of coherence. A final touch, basically swirling around the inner curvature of the shell of his ear, is enough to make him inhale sharply and sit up, covering the point of assault. "Seven hells, WHAT?!"
The guest might hear this outburst. Strange then hears the polite rapping again and sighs. The tome is placed to one side and he makes his way to the door, more than happy to present a super-fantastically-grumpy-why-did-you-wake-me face to whomever is there.
The front door is yanked open and he blinks down at the one on the steps. Running a hand down his face, he sighs. "Yes, Kai, how can I help you?" His dress shirt is rumpled, but at least he has both slippers on.
*
Kai is wearing no kerchief today. His panache is without him. His shirt is brightly colored, though, all psychedelic swirling patterns. "Did I wake you? Sorry, man. I was just in the neighborhood and was wondering if I could talk to you." He holds up his hands and adds quickly, "It's about stuff, man. I'm not just coming by to bug you about the weather."
Kai looks up at the sky. "Though if you can do stuff like that…" He shake his head. "Never mind. If it's a bad time, I can, like, come back." Despite the words, he doesn't seem particularly nervous. His eyes are dilated, and he speaks quickly. God knows what he's on this time.
*
Strange blinks owlishly, still experiencing a mental nap-lag. "The weather is fine." A quick sigh and he steps back, scratching at the back of his head. "No, come in. You can have some detoxing tea, if you wish." Of course the Doctor would recognize the effects of the influence of something. "Close the front door behind you."
Expecting the elf to follow behind him, he leads the way back to the living room and makes his way invariably over to the tea stand by the fireplace. No fire today, it's more than warm enough in the room with how the sunshine comes in through opened blinds. "So. What wisdom can I offer today?" He's not trying to be curt even if the words come out with subtle bite. Grumpy Sorcerer is grumpy. Tea will help.
*
"Why would I want to detox?" Kai says with a dreamy smile as he drifts inside. He closes the door, then looks around with unbridled pleasure. "I love this place," he says. The elegance, the luxury. They were the few things about Alfheim he truly misses. Poor little rich elf slumming it on Midgard.
"I feel great," Kai adds as he follows after Strange. He sits in the chair he occupied last time he was here. Slumps into rather, legs stretched out before him, one ankle crossed over the other. He studies grumpy Strange as the man sets about making tea. "I came to talk to you about Loki."
*
The Elf, for his comment in regards to the Sanctum, gets a grunt first from Strange. He's occupied with fixing up tea. No detox tea for Kai, even if it grinds glass into the Doctor's psyche. In order to be in tip-top shape, there's never an ounce of anything in his system that might slow him down or distract him. Realities and interdimensional invasions don't schedule with him; there's little he can do to predict what comes, even with the ability to see short distances into a very fluid future.
No, simply a cup of Chai, the same as he professes to love at O'Riley's. For himself, Strange prepares a tisane with moderate caffeine content and some mind-clearing notes. A spoonful of honey in his, a dollop of cream for the Chai, and he delivers the latter to the small table beside the high-backed chair. Settling into his personal chair with a faint groan, he takes a huge sip of his tea — half gone in one fell swoop — before setting it aside. With attention growing sharper by the second, he clears his throat and adopts what air of comfort he can manage. Now he's looking more like the master of the mansion in his deep-green dress shirt.
"Loki then. I wondered if he would ever give up his true Name. Is he still going by Serrure? Still at the book shop?" Simple questions, asked in no hurry.
*
Kai sits up straighter when Strange comes with the tea; it's a courtesy to be received, so the very least he owes is courtesy back. "Thank you," he says. He half-smiles, ducking his head. "I figured you knew, and dancing around it turns my head around." He takes a drink of his Chai and sighs with pleasure. This. This is the good stuff.
"He is still going by Serrure," he confirms. "Still at the book shop." He pauses, chewing the corner of his lip as he gives his words due consideration. "He's not the same Loki who did all those horrible things."
*
"Not the same Loki…"
If there's anything Strange can be well-known for, it's being generally suspicious of anyone beyond the realm of Midgard. He could be forgiven. No Guardian remains so when lacking wariness of those who might threaten all that he holds dear.
"Regale me." He won't assume one instant of what the Asgardian has told Kai. Thus, it falls upon the Elf to explain precisely what he's implying in the statement.
*
Kai has to order his thoughts, because, man, he is blitzed. He's doing that thing where he moves with absolute precision in an attempt to seem like he's not wasted. "Okay, like. Okay. Wow, so you that Loki died, inasmuch as you can actually kill an Asgardian. They're resilient. But, like, that one croaked and the one that came back isn't the one that did it."
He looks at Strange, gauging how much of this might be getting through. "He's the Loki who hasn't done those things yet. And he's not going to. It doesn't have to go down like that again."
*
Silence follows. Strange's gaze never leaves the Elf's face. Those steely-blues disappear as his lids fall to a certain extent. Tally marks are being chalked up on his mental board, weighty judgments being levered and noted, removed and revisited, all with the crystalline speed of one who plays celestial chess.
"I see." The folk called 'family' by the Sorcerer don't have any fondess for the two-word response, always delivered with sterilized lack of emotion in place of logic. "So…this particular reincarnation of the Prince is what, experiencing an amnesia? He has no recollection of his actions?"
*
Kai leans forward, that 'I see' prompting the most soulful of dilated eyes. "They're not even in him to remember, because he's from before that time. The stuff he can't remember is his life before, not after." He sigh, lowers his gaze, and says, "Look, man. I know this is some mind-blowing stuff, but you dig me, right? It's out there, but it's not impossible."
He takes a drink of his tea, his eyes lidding. It tastes so much more than when he's sober. There's so much nuance, so many levels of flavor unlocked by his mental state. Far out.
*
"I'm not unfamiliar with reincarnations and fluctuations within the temporal fields…or impossibilities," the Sorcerer adds, his reticent smile reaching his eyes to the smallest extent. "If there is any denizen within any Realm connected to that of Midgard to be capable of executing such a feat, I would say Loki Odinson is one of the few. Lady Amora, called the Enchantress — she would be the other one I'd place a bet upon. Wily things…the both of them…" he muses, eyes shifting off somewhere beyond Kai's shoulder. He raises a finger to stroke one line of his goatee thoughtfully. "It's to everyone's benefit if the amnesia holds. A chance to reinstate proper diplomatic relations as well…"
*
"What about his benefit?" Kai asks, looking up again. "Isn't it punishment for a man who's done nothing wrong? To deny him his greatest wish?" He holds up a finger. "This is where it starts, Daddy-o. Let's keep things from Loki. Then he finds out you're keeping things from him, and he gets angry. I mean I'd blow my top if it was me."
He shakes his head, curls flopping. "This is a chance to get it right," he says. The words just come out of him with the simple honesty of the supremely intoxicated. "To, like, act in good faith."
He chews his lower lip, then admits, "I'm going to help him. I have to, Doctor. When you look into someone's eyes and see them stripped bare and undone, and you see what I've seen…" He shakes his head, blown away just thinking about whatever it is he's got in his head. "He's not evil."
"Evil is up to the determination of the one judging an action's merit. I do not fault the man for amnesia nor do I wish him ill will for dealing with it. I must work through moments of it myself. It is harrowing to realize, but…we have our support, the Prince and I. We're no worse for the wear for it." Strange takes up his cup of tea, barely steaming, and sips at it. "I am a doctor, Kai, not only a Sorcerer. I have seen what you speak of." It makes the marrow of his bones go cold.
Considering that the Sanctum is a bastion of secrets and the Sorcerer Supreme its keeper, he's curious and hence, the query: "And what would I be keeping from the Prince at this point?"
*
"Nothing," Kai says, then furrows his brow. "I think. I'm just saying what you're saying, like, about how it's to everyone's benefit. I don't think it is. That's all." He leans back, holding his teacup in both hands. "That's all I mean," he murmurs, and he smiles faintly. "It could be okay this time," he says. "We're the sum of our experiences, and even though I know I'm, like, small and nothing, I'm going to try to give him as many good ones as I can."
His gaze slides to Strange. "I know it sounds like sentiment, but man, love is a powerful thing."
*
"Love is…a most powerful thing. The gods tamper with it unwisely." His smirk nears a sneer for all of a second before settling away into formal neutrality with his sigh. "I will argue that it is to everyone's benefit because it keeps the Prince safe from enemies. You know well enough of his sly nature. I needn't expand further…and don't deny it, please," Strange adds with that faint dimpling. "He's wise enough to utilize the simple fact of lacking knowledge to his advantage. I would do the same in his boots, were I returned to the world without memory of a past history."
The Moon Elf is then given an inclination of the head, respect implied in its offering. "You are not small and not nothing, Kai. Hjuki. Alfsson. Elf of Many Names. The more you show him of our world and its glories, beauties, aspects worth preserving, the more good you do in the name of Midgard. In fact, it plays beautifully into general diplomacy between our Realms as a whole." And there's the chess player shining forth once more.
*
Kai laughs and says, "I wouldn't dream of denying he's sly." He sighs, and one might think that's part of why Kai adores the trickster. Then he says, "I know I'll follow my heart, and my heart will go where he does. It's not exactly faith. It's more like if this can't end well, then I don't want to be spared."
He looks at Strange, his expression mild as a lamb's. "You're too kind," he say. "But that's what I mean to do, man. There's so much far out stuff in this world, and so much worth saving. You just got to experience it like you were born to it."
*
"Of course. Time is a fleeting thing. One never knows when it might be up." Well…except perhaps him, but…that's a very dark little corner of thought Strange doesn't entertain save for in nightmares against his conscious will. With an empty cup now, he sets it aside and interlaces fingers as he rests elbows on the arms of the chair. "Might as well enjoy it while we can, immortal or not."
*
Kai lets his head fall back against his chair. Sure, he's mostly chipper because everything feels tingly and tastes extra good, but he's also besotted by more than drugs. "Thank you for believing me. I know it sounds so impossibly biased. I'm not used to people believing me." He waves a hand vaguely. "Bad blood begetting bad blood and all that. If nothing else, that's what I love about Midgard. No one knows who I am."
*
He gives a lightly dismissive wave of his hand in regards to the gratitude expressed. "I do recommend keeping up on the alternate name and anonymity. It makes things far less complicated if you maintain it." Rule of Shade and all. The Sorcerer Supreme is very used to remaining hidden these days, in utter contrast to his previous life before the car accident. Guarding a Realm is more complicated still than putting a spine back together, bone by bone, and reattaching severed nerves.
"I do understand the bias, however…" He smiles, perhaps the most friendly cast to the expression. "I have others who question my own feelings in matters of the heart."
*
"Oh God, yes," Kai says. "We don't need to throw his name around. Not for a generation at least," he says. He smiles crookedly. "And you know how fond I am of having a few spare names laying around." He sits up. "You'll never guess what! I met the Daredevil. We're going to be working together." He wriggles where he sits and lets out a less than masculine squeak of a laugh.
Just like that, he's onto being starstruck. "He got hurt and I healed him, and we talked, and he's great, Doctor. He's just so nice."
*
"Daredevil? I'm not familiar with that moniker. Is he a vigilante? Policeman?" The Sorcerer's head tilts to one side, his attention pinpointed upon the Elf. This is new information and always worth having, especially if it means gaining a new ally or, at least, more connections throughout the city of New York. He can use all the help he can get, even if he doesn't admit it aloud.
Spymaster? …perhaps.
*
"The Devil of Hell's Kitchen?" Kai says. He shakes his head. Strange is so out of it, yeesh. He's cool for a square, but he's still a square. "He dresses in red, and he fights evildoers. He intervened when some thugs mistook me for a mutant." So bright-eyed and excited. "He got slashed with a knife, but I healed him, and then we talked. We had the talk, Doctor. About intentions and philosophies. It's official. I'm a real hero now."
*
Strange's brows slowly rise up, though the rest of his face remains static. "The Devil of Hell's Kitchen…? Hmm." It's a thoughtful hum and he shifts in the chair, now resting one ankle on the other knee. "I'm glad to hear that things turned out well despite the dastardly presence of the ne're-do-wells. Healing the man would count as an act of heroism, according to most classical tales. Well done, Kai." He might be humoring the Elf ever-so-slightly, but it has a friendly twist.
Then Strange sobers. A hand steals up to itch at the side of his neck in a semi-conscious gesture of discomfort and he frowns, looking away to the fireplace devoid of flame. "Mind yourself in Hell's Kitchen. This man may call himself the devil, but I've encountered much worse there. It might be safe now, but tell me immediately if you come across any undead."
*
Kai beams. He'll take even humoring praise. Strange is like the big brother he never had. He'll take what he can get. He sobers quickly as well, though at the mention of undead. "I will," he says. He takes another sip of his cooling tea. Mmm, so tasty. "I live in Hell's Kitchen," he says. "Those are my streets I walk at night. Believe me, I don't want zombies moving in." What it would do to property values alone…
*
It would degrade property values and cause another city-wide panic! Double the overtime work for the Sorcerer Supreme! Huzzah! Undead, his favorite.
"Zombies would be an issue. Vampires…" And the good Doctor, with all the power of the gods at his call, shudders in his chair in pure, bone-deep loathing. "Mummies, ghouls, whatever they are — let me know immediately. They cannot be allowed to set roots in again."
*
"It's Central Park you need to worry about," Kai says. "I've heard it's rotten with undead. I haven't heard of anything like that in Hell's Kitchen." He frowns at the shudder. "Are vampires really that bad?" He shifts a bit in his chair so he's facing Strange more fully. "I didn't even think about whether these things existed, isn't that funny? I'm a thing that goes bump in the night and never gave it a second thought the other things that go bump in the night might be real."
*
The sigh blown might as well have held dragon-fire for how he growls, "Yes, I'm aware of the undead in Central Park currently. They are contained as best can be." Strange doesn't look at Kai as he says this, deflecting his ire instead towards the tea stand. The metal frame rattles faintly before settling again. "Vampires…
Another itch at his neck before he relegates said hand to the arm of the chair. "In my…unfortunate experience, they are out for one thing and it's the blood in your veins. No…I take it back. Your soul." His gaze slides to the Moon Elf and lingers, likely the chilliest of hauntings within it. "You would be a prime target for one. Be careful."
*
Kai wrinkles his nose. He sets his teacup down and wraps his arms around himself, genuinely unsettled by the way his surrogate big brother looks at him. "Okay," he says in a rare moment of meekness. Sure, he's older than Strange and has had two centuries on most human beings, but by his people's reckoning, he's just a babe alone in the woods. "I'll be careful."
He frowns, unfurling slowly to take up his teacup again. "Is there anything I can do about the other undead? I can punch pretty hard."
*
By Kai's actions, Strange realizes that he's scared the young Alfheimian. Inside, he feels somewhat badly, simply for the sparkling joy repressed, but…life sucks and then you die. Er, well…life sucks and then, if you're immortal, maybe you don't die, but the physical scars can get gnarly and the mental scars take months, if not longer, to heal.
"You have an edge, Kai, in that you are in close contact with the Prince. If you weren't aware of it, he has magic not too unlike my own. Charmed weaponry or jewelry, incantations…I assume you have powers of your own, including strength? Utilize them. Create distance — and run. Don't linger. The vampires hunt in packs." He looks particularly grim now. "And keep your back to the wall. Don't let them catch you from behind."
*
Kai is irrepressible in the long run, either fortunately or gods save us all. His lips twitch. Close contact. With the Prince. "I'm well aware of his charms," Kai says with doe-eyed innocence. "And I'm stronger than I look. I'm fast. I can move water around. I kept a little girl from being hit by a blast of water from a fire hydrant at the riots." No brag there, at least not for the saving. What else would he do? But for the ability, he preens. Just a little.
He studies Strange, then gingerly lays a hand on his arm. "I won't be foolish," he says. "All right, man? I finally have the best possible reason to be alive. I'm not looking to clock out any time soon."
*
Grim does lend its shadowings to the patriarchal face, but the stoic cast does recede slightly for the sheer, mulishly-present light within the Moon Elf. In a corner of his heart, that grumpy Sorcerer does hope against hope that nothing extinguishes it. Happiness and those who exude it are so rare in this world — worlds. All the worlds…and dimensions…and realities.
His gaze slides to the hand resting on his forearm and back up to Kai. A subtle quirk of a brow questions the wisdom of the move at heart, but…no wards come down upon the Alfheimian in a show of wrath. "I don't think you'd be foolish and get killed, Kai." He won't say how he thinks Lady Death might seek out the young one. "You're not an idiot, even if you do act as if all you have between your ears is moonshine every now and then." There's a teasing smirk, a little one. "You have your heroism and allies in Hell's Kitchen. It's safer now for all."
Kai smiles in the face of that questioning look. The elf has no idea how close he comes to disaster most of the time. He gives the arm a pat. "The sillier I act, the less anyone questions what's going on in my mind," he says. Another pat, and then he leans back. He grins with genuine pleasure, ducking his head as he says, "It's going to be great. I always wanted to meet him, and I imagine he gets hurt a lot. I mean it's Hells' Kitchen. That place is a dump you dig me? It needs all the help it can get."
*
He just patted the Sorcerer Supreme's arm. Lesser beings have been banished for tweaking the hem of his mantle's storm-blue tunic. Someone should explain to the youngling that it's akin to petting a dragon. One does not do it without ample trust in the face of Mystical teeth.
"I know precisely how bad it is. I have scars to remind me," Strange murmurs. Shifting in his chair, he seems to wish to rise to his feet, but does remain sitting. "You'll be fine, though. No vampires currently. Loki will keep you safe as well." If it seems as if he's unconsciously attempting to convince himself of it, it might not be too far from the truth. After all, for all that Kai consider the Sorcerer an older brother, there are uncanny parallels to the younger of the two Strange brothers lost to cruel Fate that he can find in the Elf.
*
The youngling might well pet a dragon once he thinks he's developed a rapport. Wisdom is rarely an affliction of the young. "Yes, he will," Kai says with utter certainty, for what comfort or dread it offers. In a gentler tone, he says, "Don't worry about me. I'm in a good place, with plenty of people who've got my back." He smiles, so very fond of the Doctor with the weight of the cosmos on his shoulders. "Tell me what I can do to be useful, and I'll give you less to worry about."
*
"You're most useful alive," replies the good Doctor in blunt Midwestern tendency. "Stay alive and stay out of trouble." He rubs at one silvered temple before laughing to himself, eyes closing. "Gods below, it's like talking to Tommy. Knowing my luck, you'll find one another and I'll have to come mitigate some mild disaster."
He eyes the Moon Elf again, leaning his jaw in the palm of the hand farthest away from pat-pat reach. "Anything else you wish to tell me, young Kai? Any other wisdom that I should impart?" The tone of voice and curve of mobile lips match: wry amusment.
*
Kai says brightly, "Well that's great, because I was planning on being that anyway." It is perhaps then that Strange makes a mistake he might come to regret. He mentions a name Kai doesn't know, or rather didn't, but he does now. "Who's Tommy?" he asks. Did Strange mention disaster? Kai's in the market.
His smile broadens to a warm, dimpled grin. "You've given me a lot to think about," he says. "I feel like sufficient wisdom has been bestowed. Have I given you enough grey hairs?"
*
Strange narrows his eyes at the Elf, even as his dimples fully appear. "You ask too many questions. Since sufficient wisdom has apparently been bestowed, I have nothing more to offer other than drugs are toxic to one's system and I don't recommend indulging in them while living in Hell's Kitchen. You mark yourself as an easy target on the streets for Mundane and Mystical predators alike."
Rising to his feet, he indulges in a long-bodied standing stretch that threatens the buttons of his dress shirt, but apparently feels very good by the contented expression afterwards. Hands slap audibly against his thighs before he adds, "Allow me to escort you out…whippersnapper. I've got Sorcerous tasks to complete."
Deliberate vaguery. Isn't he a jerk? Still, the Moon Elf is brought to the front doors in friendly manners and reminded, as always, that he can knock if in need of advising on life's various matters.
*
Kai rises to his feet and utters a fey laugh. "They barely work on me," he says. Which is why he takes enough to drop a draft horse. Never mind. Details! "I'll see you later," he says once he gets to the door. "Have fun sorcerering." Part of him wants to know what amazing adventures Strange must get up to, but another part of him is sure it involves studying inside, and the day is beautiful. And so off he goes, a bounce in his step, to go be someone else's problem.