Tuesday, New York City - Just another Starbucks...
The duplicate checked the address on the list.
Then he checked the address on the building again.
Then the list. And then the building. The building which had a sign which read "Starbucks" placed on it along with a banner underneath it reading "Under construction."
"Nah," Jamie said to himself. "Couldn't be."
And then yet again... he sighed and moved forward. At the very least it would be just a construction site and he'd be yelled off by some foreman. Otherwise... well, who knows.
He stepped into the building, calling out "Stephen Strange?"
"Who dares interrupt the sanctity of the sanctum?" Strange's voice drifted through the area, humming with an ethereal kind of echo. He was not having a particularly good day. "If this is you again, Bruce..."
"No Bruce," Jamie said looking around. "Jamie Madrox. The multiple... The mutant who duplicates. I'm here for a favor."
"I am not currently in any state to do any man any favors," Strange's voice continued, and it managed to sound as frustrated as it did theatrical. "I am plumbing the depths of the cosmos for my own answers."
Jamie sighed. Was the entire universe trying to blow him off? "This is about Layla Miller," Jamie called out. "You know her. The one who knows stuff? She helped you and few others not to long ago setting this universe right. I was hoping you might be willing to return the favor."
And that would have been an audible, if ethereal, exhale. "You may speak," Strange spoke, "But be aware that although I shall try what I can, my ability to interfere is currently somewhat... limited."
"Not too long ago the first mutant child was born since Wanda decided to smack the universe around a bit," Jamie summarized. "I was sent to a future timeline to figure out what this child could mean for mutants in general. Layla tagged along for what happened to be a one way trip. I'm trying to get her back and I was hoping you'd might be able to help."
There was a long, long silence.
"I am not currently certain," Strange said, finally, "Whether or not I am... qualified... to help in this manner of a situation. But I will consult the EYE OF AGAMOTTO in your benefit."
Jamie looked up and around the building. "And... how long will that take?" he asked. "And I don't suppose I could get a mocha latte while I'm waiting?"
"The Eye responds as it does," the voice replied, lowering its booming quality considerably. "And you may, provided that you get me one as well. I have had to deal with too many headaches not to find comfort in a good brew." Pause. "Please tell me Namor is not involved in this as well." It was best to cover all of his bases.
"Like I need him involved," Jamie snarked as he started working on his coffee. "I'd rather not go anywhere near Mr. Wings-on-his-feet."
"Namor is a... noble... ally," Strange spoke, conversationally. He'd been a little lacking for company, lately, and Madrox would do as well as any at conversation, no doubt. "But he is somewhat melodramatic in his bearing..."
"That's a nice way of saying he can be a royal pain in the ass," Jamie said finishing up the coffees and... "Okay. How are you supposed to drink this?"
"I will avail myself downstairs in a moment. The desperate forces of Wong's cleaning apparatus... He wasn't fond of our recent guests." Some noise on the stairs.
And then a guy in a really big cape. "Madrox. We shall speak details over mocha lattes."
"You know," Jamie said as he offered Strange his beveage. "It's hard to sound dignified when you say 'mocha lattes'."
"I am getting tired of being told that my manner of speech is too 'renaissance festival'," Strange spoke, taking the coffee gladly. "I felt it was time for a change."
Jamie arched an eyebrow at that. "Does that mean you're going to rework the wardrobe too?"
"No," he replied, sipping his coffee, "They have no right to speak in that department." A slight pause, as Strange lowered the coffee. "Neither does Namor about the speech."
"Namor told you your language was too renaissance festival?"
This was followed by a snort of amusement. "Please have him tell that to Thor if he ever returns. I want to be there for that conversation."
"No, Banner did." The mocha latte could've gone a little easier on the mocha, Strange felt. "It is a long story, and not one I am too happy to revisit. However, in the wake of recent events, my focus has been... scattered. It might be some time before I can actually assist you."
Jamie let out a long sigh. "I would thought that a girl who knows things would have been something people would have been interested in getting back to our time period. How much time are we talking?"
"It is not a matter of willingness," Strange said, importantly, "But rather the question of whether I am at all qualified, at this particular junction."
"Qualified?" Jamie echoed. "I thought you were the Sorcerer Supreme. Not the Sorcerer who is merely adequate. What's the big deal? Zap us into the future, we grab the girl and zap back."
"That would be the issue I am uncertain about," he replied, "I fear I am not worthy to be... the Sorcerer Supreme."
Having admitted this, he put two full sticks of sugar in his coffee and chugged it. "I fear I might be in need of employment councilling."
Jamie groaned. The most powerful magician in the known universe and he has insecurity issues. Figures.
He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out his wallet and then fished out a business card. "Here. It's Doc Samson's practice. The cell phone number is old but the main number is still good."
Strange took the card, gave it a look-over, and rubbed his forehead. "I have heard of him," he spoke, "But thank you. The sentiment is appreciated." He did, in fact, put the card in his cloak. "There is no point in staying here. I will contact you when I learn more."
"Thanks," Jamie said half-heartedly as he headed for the door. "Good luck with the new Starbucks franchise."
There was a very long pause, and then an affronted, "For the third time, by the shades of the Seraphim, it is not a Starbucks!"
"Yeah. Good luck with that renaissance festival talk," Jamie called back.
The door suddenly slammed shut behind him on its own strength.
Jamie let out a small sigh as he headed out into the street and back to his ongoing search.
This was going to be more difficult than he thought.
[NFI & NFB though OOC is love. Preplayed with the sensational spring_lost]
Then he checked the address on the building again.
Then the list. And then the building. The building which had a sign which read "Starbucks" placed on it along with a banner underneath it reading "Under construction."
"Nah," Jamie said to himself. "Couldn't be."
And then yet again... he sighed and moved forward. At the very least it would be just a construction site and he'd be yelled off by some foreman. Otherwise... well, who knows.
He stepped into the building, calling out "Stephen Strange?"
"Who dares interrupt the sanctity of the sanctum?" Strange's voice drifted through the area, humming with an ethereal kind of echo. He was not having a particularly good day. "If this is you again, Bruce..."
"No Bruce," Jamie said looking around. "Jamie Madrox. The multiple... The mutant who duplicates. I'm here for a favor."
"I am not currently in any state to do any man any favors," Strange's voice continued, and it managed to sound as frustrated as it did theatrical. "I am plumbing the depths of the cosmos for my own answers."
Jamie sighed. Was the entire universe trying to blow him off? "This is about Layla Miller," Jamie called out. "You know her. The one who knows stuff? She helped you and few others not to long ago setting this universe right. I was hoping you might be willing to return the favor."
And that would have been an audible, if ethereal, exhale. "You may speak," Strange spoke, "But be aware that although I shall try what I can, my ability to interfere is currently somewhat... limited."
"Not too long ago the first mutant child was born since Wanda decided to smack the universe around a bit," Jamie summarized. "I was sent to a future timeline to figure out what this child could mean for mutants in general. Layla tagged along for what happened to be a one way trip. I'm trying to get her back and I was hoping you'd might be able to help."
There was a long, long silence.
"I am not currently certain," Strange said, finally, "Whether or not I am... qualified... to help in this manner of a situation. But I will consult the EYE OF AGAMOTTO in your benefit."
Jamie looked up and around the building. "And... how long will that take?" he asked. "And I don't suppose I could get a mocha latte while I'm waiting?"
"The Eye responds as it does," the voice replied, lowering its booming quality considerably. "And you may, provided that you get me one as well. I have had to deal with too many headaches not to find comfort in a good brew." Pause. "Please tell me Namor is not involved in this as well." It was best to cover all of his bases.
"Like I need him involved," Jamie snarked as he started working on his coffee. "I'd rather not go anywhere near Mr. Wings-on-his-feet."
"Namor is a... noble... ally," Strange spoke, conversationally. He'd been a little lacking for company, lately, and Madrox would do as well as any at conversation, no doubt. "But he is somewhat melodramatic in his bearing..."
"That's a nice way of saying he can be a royal pain in the ass," Jamie said finishing up the coffees and... "Okay. How are you supposed to drink this?"
"I will avail myself downstairs in a moment. The desperate forces of Wong's cleaning apparatus... He wasn't fond of our recent guests." Some noise on the stairs.
And then a guy in a really big cape. "Madrox. We shall speak details over mocha lattes."
"You know," Jamie said as he offered Strange his beveage. "It's hard to sound dignified when you say 'mocha lattes'."
"I am getting tired of being told that my manner of speech is too 'renaissance festival'," Strange spoke, taking the coffee gladly. "I felt it was time for a change."
Jamie arched an eyebrow at that. "Does that mean you're going to rework the wardrobe too?"
"No," he replied, sipping his coffee, "They have no right to speak in that department." A slight pause, as Strange lowered the coffee. "Neither does Namor about the speech."
"Namor told you your language was too renaissance festival?"
This was followed by a snort of amusement. "Please have him tell that to Thor if he ever returns. I want to be there for that conversation."
"No, Banner did." The mocha latte could've gone a little easier on the mocha, Strange felt. "It is a long story, and not one I am too happy to revisit. However, in the wake of recent events, my focus has been... scattered. It might be some time before I can actually assist you."
Jamie let out a long sigh. "I would thought that a girl who knows things would have been something people would have been interested in getting back to our time period. How much time are we talking?"
"It is not a matter of willingness," Strange said, importantly, "But rather the question of whether I am at all qualified, at this particular junction."
"Qualified?" Jamie echoed. "I thought you were the Sorcerer Supreme. Not the Sorcerer who is merely adequate. What's the big deal? Zap us into the future, we grab the girl and zap back."
"That would be the issue I am uncertain about," he replied, "I fear I am not worthy to be... the Sorcerer Supreme."
Having admitted this, he put two full sticks of sugar in his coffee and chugged it. "I fear I might be in need of employment councilling."
Jamie groaned. The most powerful magician in the known universe and he has insecurity issues. Figures.
He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out his wallet and then fished out a business card. "Here. It's Doc Samson's practice. The cell phone number is old but the main number is still good."
Strange took the card, gave it a look-over, and rubbed his forehead. "I have heard of him," he spoke, "But thank you. The sentiment is appreciated." He did, in fact, put the card in his cloak. "There is no point in staying here. I will contact you when I learn more."
"Thanks," Jamie said half-heartedly as he headed for the door. "Good luck with the new Starbucks franchise."
There was a very long pause, and then an affronted, "For the third time, by the shades of the Seraphim, it is not a Starbucks!"
"Yeah. Good luck with that renaissance festival talk," Jamie called back.
The door suddenly slammed shut behind him on its own strength.
Jamie let out a small sigh as he headed out into the street and back to his ongoing search.
This was going to be more difficult than he thought.
[NFI & NFB though OOC is love. Preplayed with the sensational spring_lost]