sorserer | ( office hours & overflow )

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( ic ),
duplicity

( office hours & overflow )

❥ stephen strange has office hours. these are hours during which people can come by ~~his house in the up, the abattoir~~ a magically expanded but still very cramped closet-now-office in the triple m apothecary for a nice cup of tea and some advice or direct support on magical endeavors. come thru
❥ this is an informal, word-of-mouth service. stephen appreciates some manner of compensation but will neither mention nor require it
❥ oocly, this is a mechanism for random non-phone threads. you don’t actually have to have a magic question. you can just come by and annoy the shit out of him
❥ just like the ic inbox i reserve the right to cram random shit in here

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( reference )

[ the room stephen received is one of the darker suites, its primary features a single bed and plenty of conversational space, to a point where ending up on the bed doesn’t even necessarily look like an inevitability. that’s probably part of the gimmick, stephen suspects: he sets out a series of lures, from his comfortable classic armchair to the tidily made king-size, and the other person has to walk the perimeter of the room to collect them--to be tempted. the illusion of having uneasily crossed that distance of one’s own volition, so it’s not stephen’s fault when he takes them in-hand at last.

hakkyuu’s already done it, in part, stomping close and downing the scotch like a dare. he can’t say he’s disappointed, but the differences between this younger, slighter man and his on-and-off friend certainly are a thing to behold.

he keeps his head on his hand. watches him levelly, entirely too relaxed, like he already knows what hakkyuu is going to say. ]

I don’t see why not.

Edited 2022-06-06 21:18 (UTC)

[Standing in that room, swimming in clothes that should hug his every line is a brand of exposed that Hakkyuu hasn't really prepared for. Beyond that though, he feels like he's drowning in the room itself and as though even the most inviting parts are conspiring to get him in some way.

Worst of all though is how his body and mind don't feel like his own, like he has a concept of his own scope of mental, emotional and physical capabilities but he can't make out the shape or details, like his own sense of self is shrouded in a mist so thick he can only just make out his own hand in front of his face.

It's embarrassing, which is a sensation in and of itself that Hakkyuu doesn't think he usually has time for but right now can't imagine how else he could possible feel as he tugs the back of the sweatshirt, then the sleeve, trying to get it to sit better on his body and failing every time.]

What happens in this room stays here. [He says after an arrested pause, his expression very fleetingly looking like something closer to what Stephen is more familiar with--resolved and firm, something he won't give way on. It's only a flicker though, still not as sharp as it should be by a long shot.] Anything I tell you. Anything that happens. Doesn't leave here. Deal?

[ in his finery, leg crossed over the other, he could be easily mistaken for an upper-crust native - or at least a man he used to be, some years ago. his shoes are finely polished and his watch glints in the warm lights of the suite, dimmed just so. he remains still in his consideration, but not because he has to think it over, not really. he doesn’t even blink. ]

As you wish.

[ at his least casual stephen’s language slip-slides into the arcane, voice dropping down velvet in the silence. he shifts in his seat, uncrosses his legs with terrible casualness, and skims an idle hand over his thigh, as if pulling at pilling fabric. the fabric is fine, though. the suit’s too nice for that. ]

Now. [ no winsome smile, no forced levity. all the gravity of stephen’s usual presence is in full tilt, like his presence preceded the room, like it was built around him. he gestures faintly in ready welcome, and here it is, the first real test of the evening: ] Won’t you sit.

[Later in life, Hakkyuu gets compared to a cat on occasion. Even if he doesn't think of himself in any kind of animalistic terms, the comparisons to coming and going, to getting wanting to get in and out of people's physical space when it suits him, his tendencies to prickle and hiss when displeased is largely what conjurers the association for others.

If he still has something cat-like about him now, it's a far more skittish and mistrusting type, one who looks ready to dart at any moment and wouldn't trust any food being offered.

He doesn't like what feels like a massive power imbalance already--Stephen all pristinely positioned as if he owns the place and everything beyond it. He reads like a noble and Hakkyuu feels his street rat roots all on display whereas normally he'd walk around the room like he owned it, taking his sweet time taking in details, very relaxed indeed thank you very much.

But here his eyes flit back and forth between the chair in front of Stephen and back to the man himself in rapid-fire movements, not settling on one or the other too long as he clearly can't decide where his attention should lie or isn't sure he trusts Stephen enough to take his eyes off him for more than a second. Typically, Hakkyuu would let a lazy glance trail wherever he wanted it to, maybe to the chair, maybe intentionally on Stephen's face with slow, unimpressed blinks that make it hard to tell what he's thinking. He doesn't have any of that easy self-assuredness here though, hasn't mastered it or have access.

With a suspicious narrowing of his eyes, Hakkyuu moves closer, steps light and cautious as he approaches the chair, stopping short of actually sitting even when he lines up with the furniture directly. By this point, he very much has Stephen in his line of sight, probably because while Stephen is sitting and Hakkyuu is standing, their eye level is about the same. Won't you sit isn't a question though and Hakkyuu's stubborn streak is differently still very much in tact.]

Think I'm good here.

... and I suppose that’s a no on more scotch? [ it’s a rhetorical question. eyebrows up, then, a passing acceptance. ] Suit yourself.

[ his glass tops itself up as he reaches for it. he glances back at hakkyuu as he sips. ]

Are you alright otherwise? These, mmm. Changes aside. [ see, some of us can be gracious after a fight. a good host, even to awkward teenage boys. ]

[There's that sense of things not fitting well again--like he really should want to partake in the scotch and not just drink it to prove that he can. There's even a fleeting mental image that he could just walk over to straddle Stephen's lap right now and pluck the tumbler right out of his hand to drink it and be perfectly content with both actions.

For the second that image is in his mind, it seems like a completely natural response to that non-question, and then the moment after it's as if he's done something he shouldn't have just by picturing it. The practical upshot is that he looks a bit like the insinuation that he's turning the drink down has all his hackles up as the backs of his ears feel a brief rush of heat.

This sucks.

It does help though that overall he can just lean into the defensiveness of it all.]

Yeah? Why wouldn't I be? [He casts a scowl off to the side of the room, wanting to glare at something that isn't Stephen because suddenly looking directly at his face is kind of tough.] I'm fine. I mean, my clothes don't fit, I feel weird, and you're--

[He does shoot a bit of a look back at Stephen then, pausing as he tries to decide what he wants to irrationally accuse Stephen of.]

Bet you think this is a real riot, huh?

[ stephen has to consider the possibility that he’s never seen hakkyuu blush before. flushed from a thorough pounding, yes, but hakkyuu flustered is another animal entirely.

a skittish one, to boot. there’s a lot of plays to make. it’d be a lie to say stephen doesn’t consider the pettiest ones, part of him still sour from their altercation. he also considers the fastest ones: how easy would it be, to reorient reality around this kid, get him quicker to where he needs to be? his lap just doesn’t feel right when it’s empty. not if it’s just the two of them alone in the room with a bed.

present circumstances far from excluded. stephen’s a good man deep down - just deeper down some days than others. ]

I think it’s interesting.

[ it is. ]

You always interest me. [ said almost downright politely. like he isn’t digging in. ] Whether I want you to or not.

[Interesting. It sounds like one of those words that could mean so many things all at once and a word that feels like he should have a different, very specific relation to that he can't put his finger on. For some reason the word 'weird' keeps coming up by association, but he can't place what he'd ascribe that either.

He's not sure if Stephen is trying to be complimentary, insulting, or intentionally obscure and the inability to come down on one or another makes Hakkyuu's shoulders tighten as he looks away to give the bottom front leg of the chair nearest to him an experimental scuff from his toe, trying to focus on the term itself rather than any implications as it relates to how he captures Stephen's attention because that makes him feel something that's equally hard to pin down.]

Plenty of things are interesting, doc. [He glances back at Stephen, trying to look smug like he's just thought of a good Gotcha!] Probably says a lot more about you than me.

[The delivery remains off though, lacking the easy cocksure statement or too-comfortable stance, fails to deliver a certain brand of knowingness from years of reading between people's lines--the difference between someone accidentally showing their own hand at the poker table and being deft at sleight of hand. There's a gulf of experience lost between where this Hakkyuu is and what he becomes.]

[ if anything, stephen is being candid, as if it were a truth that would otherwise have to be extracted from him on the other side of a confessional. normally hakkyuu would’ve thrown that right back at him, called it high praise from a surgeon-scholar-magician-menace or something else pithy and precise. ]

Probably. My name isn’t Doctor Normal, in any case.

[ hakkyuu is also one of the only people in this city who will ever hear stephen himself make that joke, because it’s stupid when other people do it. but also: lighten up, kid. (as if stephen isn’t too indifferent to eye contact when the kid in question keeps shifting his weight on his feet. as if something isn’t stirring idly in the back of stephen’s head - ideas, maybe. idle speculations.) ]

I’m glad you’re alright. And that this state of affairs is temporary. That’s all.

Edited 2022-06-07 12:28 (UTC)

I'm always alright.

[That comes back sharp as a whip, everything in Hakkyuu's body tightening and straightening up like he's remembered he's carrying the ashes of a loved one or something and Stephen has insulted his mother.

It rolls through him through deep, hard breathes through his nose, shaky and irregular, the pace all off cant compared to how even Hakkyuu's breathing is typically regulated day to day. This is pure inability to fully identify and appropriately manage emotions, all nerves up on end and easy to brush as he glowers at Stephen.

They're eyes with definite pride that Stephen has inadvertently wounded and it's probably an indication of where some of Hakkyuu's moments of sharp intensity comes from, but they're just not those of someone who has taken lives.]

[ the whip-crack retort doesn’t quite come as a surprise. ]

You and me both, kid.

[ his voice softer now, relenting. even if hakkyuu doesn’t fully know his own limits, of his temper, his comfort, stephen knows they’re there somewhere. (even if he doesn’t plan on staying respectful forever.) and he also knows hakkyuu still knows him, is one of those people in his life who cuts too cleanly through his bullshit. stephen strange, too, is someone who’s also technically always alright. at the very least he’s a difficult man to kill. ]

You know I’m not here to fight, don’t you? [ it is, frankly, a genuine question, and in itself a bit of a dare. like, obviously he isn’t here to fight, look at him. are you? ]

[With his head tilting away slightly, Hakkyuu watches Stephen sidelong, still suspicious and tense all through the body, but with some slight points softening. Shoulders dropping just a little, glare shifting from what he thinks might be murderous to just sort of adolescent irritation as he seems to assess what Stephen has put on the table.

Is the saucer of milk spoilt or poisoned though? Apparently it's still hard to tell.

This is perhaps the weirdest part, that he does know Stephen, but all the places where he got his information about him is fuzzy, like playing back a video where certain people on screen have been blurred out and their voices altered beyond recognition. So Stephen is in focus, Hakkyuu knows him, and he knows they know each other, but he can't grab onto solid facts and moments. It's maddening.

After a moment, he snorts and flops unceremoniously into the chair Stephen suggested he take up a while back and he effectively refused, arms crossed over his chest and his head cocked back to stare pointedly at Stephen.]

So what are you here for, doc? And don't say the city put you here--you look like the room was made for you and you know it.

[ stephen shrugs. it’s a simple question with a simple answer. ]

You’ve seen where I live. [ the broken-down rooms in the down that he nevertheless refuses to leave, too proud to live at the mercy of a dominant. a sanctuary can be anywhere, if you put in the work to secure it. the only thing stephen really needs is himself. ] Can’t look a gift horse in the mouth. [ eyebrows up. ] You probably wouldn’t either, under ordinary circumstances. We’ve talked about those streets of yours.

[ he recalls the other tumbler to him, or rather, it appears. a little wave of his fingers and it’s topped up again, this time with an ice cube intended for these situations, a single and somewhat big clean-cut block. he doesn’t use magic, though, to send it skittering across the table in front of hakkyuu again. ]

Come on. You’ll thank me later.

[There's a little uptick in the rigidness of his shoulders again, like that fight or flight barometer is flickering in his head again but this time it settles quickly as his eyes settle on the glass in front of him.

It takes him a few seconds, coupled with another few back and forth glances between the offering and Stephen's face before he takes the tumbler and settles back in the chair with all his fingers clasped around it from one hand like a beer stein. It's not like Hakkyuu tends to hold his whiskey in an especially refined way, more with on-going familiarity that means he can tip and tilt it any which way, use it as a speaking prop, let it dangle between his thumb and middle finger, probably rest it on the back of a hand if he wanted and jostle it around with only his knuckles to make the ice clink on the sides.

Now though, he looks down at the drink and it doesn't feel right in his hand. Too high class, ice too neatly cut, like it's all for aesthetic and not for drinking, an accessory.

He can remember the burn from the glass he downed earlier already, and maybe that alone is already making his judgement a little weird, so now he's got this glass in his hand, he just kind of holds it for the time being. And when he speaks, it's a marginally softer, not by much, but closer to the tone of conversation than before even if there's an undercurrent of defensiveness.]

You don't know my streets. But I know where they've put you. [He shifts the glass to move the ice around.] It's not like where you're shacked up back on your earth though, is it? You're in some building in one of them big richer cities, right?

I am. A site of untold power, drawn from the foundations of the earth in conjunction with the greater cosmos. [ a pause. ] Can’t get any cell reception in there. And they won’t refurb the basement.

[ sigh. resting his chin on his hand again. ]

I used to stay in places like these. For work ... conferences, mostly. So this is a little nostalgic.

[Despite his best impressions of being stoic, Stephen's glib remark about the Sanctum being an untouchable relic makes Hakkyuu smile. Almost laugh, even.]

You miss it? The surgeon thing with all the fancy stuff or is magic more fun these days?

[ huff. ]

Well, fun is different now than it used to be, that’s for sure.

[ he toys with the lip of the glass again, terrifically casual. he always considers his words carefully whenever he’s talking about his past, his current circumstances, his responsibilities. stephen’s callous at the best of times, but no one can accuse him of taking what his life is now for granted.

and then he lifts the glass for another measured sip. ]

Not in all ways, though.

[ cheesy wink number, like, two at least. ]

[Hakkyuu gives him a flat stare for that, practically radiating: you're being old and lame but he doesn't say it and instead just sort of rolls his eyes.]

Is it better or worse here?

[Apparently it's now rapid-fire-questions-for-Stephen hour.]

Which part? Fun, magic, good scotch ...

[ he trails, then makes a hand gesture, gallant. and eyebrows arched again, needling. ]

The other stuff?

[ yeah, by now he’s cottoned on to hakkyuu’s discomfort about, at the very least, his body. sex too, probably. it’s all in the small gestures, the hunted animal wariness in his eyes, how he’d pointedly avoided looking at the bed. ]

[His expression scrunches, like he's smelt something unpleasant before making an audible scoff for good measure.]

I know your feelings about the other stuff. [There's a silly question about how he knows in his mind, but he does know and tries not to think on it too long otherwise some very vivid images crop up. Maybe he saw it broadcast on the network sometime...]

I mean the other... other stuff. You got the--[He gestures at his own throat and the black mark there.]--same coin toss so I know where you get tossed as far the city's thoughts on you go. But some people hate this place so much it's like torture and others seem to wrangle things so it's pretty good here. Sometimes here is better than where they come from.

So the other-other stuff, doc. How does that measure up? Experiences, access to stuff, people. Do you hate it here?

[ hakkyuu knowing his feelings about the so-called “other stuff” makes his mouth quirk, but he’s content to let the subject pass. he has to consider the question, anyway, like he always does when hakkyu asks him questions that openly offer to slip beneath the skin. ]

Sometimes I can see the appeal. A place designed to strip you down of all pretenses.

[ surrender, stephen, the ancient one’s voice singsongs in his head, accompanied by a memory of bitter cold. it’s a memory that comes back to him at inopportune times in this city, and more than once his answer surged up inside him petulantly: i already did. i already am. ]

But how many hours in the day can you really spend like that, realistically? They put you through your paces every two days, after a certain point there’ll be nothing left to learn. About yourself. About sex. About ... [ with distaste: ] “deceit”. It’s asinine.

[ swirling his drink once, slow and thoughtful. ]

I guess you could say I get bored. But the company’s been good. No complaints there.

[There's a slight discomfort in Hakkyuu's body as he sits there, listening to Stephen speak. He likes his voice, his cadence and careful choice of words, the confidence. What makes Hakkyuu uncomfortable is how much he wants to pull his legs up onto the chair and just listen. Hilariously, he wouldn't think twice about doing that if he were in his contemporary body and mind--he'd just do it, settle in for the chats, get drunk, get bored, get in Stephen's space, make a mess of the shiny, swanky room, leave smears of sweat and cum on the polished wood finish...

It takes him a moment, but he does pick up one leg from the floor, then the other, to pull himself more deeply into the corner of the chair, huddled around the glass with the slowly melting ice like it's hot cocoa.

Then, finally, he takes a very experimental sip, like he's expecting it to scold him, but the steadily added water makes the bite less sharp.]

So how's that different to home?

[He lifts a hand to count down on his fingers.]

Learn about yourself, sex, deceit, company, life, goals. How's that any different to home? When you stop learning, doesn't it just mean you're dead?

[It's closer to how he might normally speak, but somehow still just a little wrong, perhaps in the way it's delivered--less pointed, less knowing, like when children ask whyyyy? to everything an adult tells them until the reasoning is excused for most of them.]

[ it’s pretty cute, a smaller version of the man he knows bundled up in the corner of the chair. for a second stephen could possibly forget that this is his friend, that they’re supposed to push and pull with fists and words and teeth; for a second he’s just any other kid, someone stephen probably wouldn’t know that well but might indulge occasionally. he doesn’t know too many young people back home. ]

Fair point.

[ he’s thinking about it too, like the way he answers is important. it’s important to him to be honest to hakkyuu, who will remember this later, who will replay the conversation in his mind for signs of weakness. not even maliciously, just as a matter of fact. ]

In places other than here, people like their illusions where they are. To be dealt with on one’s own time, inasmuch as it’s possible. [ notable lack of i and me there, but it’s certainly about himself too. ] You don’t have to be a control freak to want that.

[Hunching up his shoulders, Hakkyuu doesn't look like he has much of an argument to that, at least not now. Stephen's right to be evasive in his words though because later, when Hakkyuu is wincing at the way this night ultimately goes down and is picking over what was said with a more critical mind, will get something else from Stephen's answer, something that's far more personal about the wizard himself in what he doesn't say.

Here though, he takes another, more substantial drink from the glass, a little bolder now its not punched him in the teeth, though it comes with a full body shiver this time, not as bad as the first one, but there all the same.]

Spoken like someone who hasn't grown up in a warzone.

[It's glib but not bitter, factual, and it gives Hakkyuu enough pause on his own words that his mouth kind of quirks to the side as he eyes Stephen, the impulse to be a brat surging up again as his teenage confidence builds back up again.]

You look like someone who'd be right at home in the Reach, too. Just set up and do whatever you want. Join the Ministry, get in good with the nobles, get a high standing position in the Pact, merchant guilds, whatever you wanted.

[It's not really said in the kindest tone either, a sort of resentment deeply baked in that has nothing to do with Stephen at all as he draws one knee up to rest his cheek against it.]

Come to think of it, you seem like you can just sort of slide in anywhere. Any world. Any time. You'd be a real snug fit anywhere you end up.

I don’t know if I believe that.

[ stephen might readily cop to being a survivor, but only of a literal kind: he’s difficult to kill. he knows this now, with a kind of operatic conviction: you put him somewhere in the multiverse, he’ll make his way. but here, and on titan, and in the five years he didn’t exist, he’d only ever been idling. part of a bigger machine, slowly and inexorably grinding towards purpose. ]

I believe it about you.

[ from anyone else it’d have shades of being complimentary, but from stephen it’s a simple statement of fact. confidence, too. he knows this man, one way or another, and he knows hakkyuu would do well in new york.

apropos of nothing, stephen thinks, i should make hakkyuu and vrenille a pizza. ]

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( office hours & overflow )

my man you know it’s time to get your fingers wet

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