Something's Stirring

August 09, 2016:

Elizabeth arrives through a 'back door' and meets up with Strange after years. But something is not right.

Oblivion Bar

"The only known universe with its own happy hour."

Elsinore Brew? Blood infused Pißwasser? Fairy Dustschläger or maybe just a
good cup of coffee. The extremely comfortable and Occult elite Oblivion Bar
s here to cater to its unique clientele from all over the world and many
beyond. This classy bar and lounge has a stage, three pool tables, eleven
group tables, booths and a well stocked bar. There is also several backrooms
for private meetings, very lavish ladies and mens rooms and an office. A
phone that has its own area code that can call across dimensions or planes
thanks to a Gemworld stone and free internet access that is always
operational! Always.

The Oblivion Bar is club membership only and acts as a complete neutral
zone, an Elysium for those of the supernatural or mystic origin.

One of the best parts is beyond its relative safety it is accessible from
almost any point in the world (and some beyond) by those who know how to
find such things (magical sight) as it is located in its own pocket
dimension.

The only rules? No Muggles and no violence. If you do not have access to the
mystical, supernatural or occult sphere, you are not allowed within this
super secret clubhouse.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Deals with governments are done quietly, or at least kept among the cabinets, but it is of no silence when a walk between worlds and through planes is made.

…Sure she could have taken a private jet and landed in a place lined in fences, bricks and razor-wire, but instead she walked the path best traveled. The path of those attuned to the mystical realms.

A door opens and closes in a flash of blue light, a light that dwindles of blue electricity amidst the deep amber of brown eyes, setting the color to a new hue.

A pack upon her back traps long black hair down her back and between, making the few braids that fall forward speak nothing for the length that spills over bare shoulders when the carriage is dropped upon a seat.

Knee high moccasins are held by laces more resembling sinew in the stretch over legs, denim kept beneath and finishing the rise to settle around hips where a belt of similar make loops low on waist, tied at a hip to leave the small clatter of beads herald her path towards the bar.

Abdomen is bare, save for the dip of vest tails that are held together for coverage just over her chest. Elizabeth looks like she stepped out of….She looks as she should. But not like much else in this Bar between Realms.

"Water." A swift order and simple, but the compensation dropped is CAD, a currency that gets her a look from the tender to the couple of $2 CAD.

"It equals about 3.50 of your money, haven't gotten to the exchange yet." Accent? Oh yes, a mixture between the thick Saree tongue and the French dialect of Canadian Denizens.
"Allow me to invite you, Elizabeth," offers Strange, coming from a table in the corner. Even if money shouldn't be a problem in a place where so many patrons aren't even from the Earth plane. "I heard through the mystic grapevine you would be visiting the tri-city area, I thought I should welcome you." Nevermind the DEO wants her to help with some problems and they don't want to ask Strange instead. There has been bad blood since the Amulet of Tartessus affair. But Strange considers Talisman and her father his friends.

Leaned over the bar, the glass of ice water is slid her way, fingers smearing alng the condensed surface in thought just before Strange speaks up and reveals his presence.

The stillness has droplets of water falling from beneath fingertips, long black strands of hair unkept by braids sweep along her jawline, clinging there as she turns to look over her shoulder at the Sorcerer Supreme. For a moment there seems to be hesitance and in a sweeping motion the glass is lifted and she turns to walk to the man. For a moment it seems as if in a flicker of a smile she would embrace him, but touching… Was never a thing for Elizabeth.

"Who better to welcome me?" The smile has faded to dwindling after those words, and though his thoughts were not spoken she has heard the past and will do well to enlighten him… In time.

"I may have insulted your 'officials', but this is better for me, here. I will duly report to them when I am ready." Ever the haughty one still after years past, but her stance is made and they // wanted// her, she did not want this.

"How have you been?"
Strange tilts his head, acknowledging Talisman's decision. It is surprising enough they managed to get her in the US if she really didn't want to go. "We go where duty calls us, hmm? Perhaps the spirits want you here," he suggests.

"I am well. It has been a very eventful year, and all the signs and portents point out it will get even more interesting before settling," and that is 'interesting' in the Chinese sense. "Even the Vishanti have been testing and guiding some of the mages of the area."

Elizabeth opens her mouth and closes it when he brings the Spirits into it. That is the crux of it all, perhaps. But when it is down to the black and white…

When he mentions the Vishanti and their dealings though her words stop in her throat, and the evident swallow can be seen upon throat as she instead, listens for the moment. A tilt of her head and a hand rests upon the back of the chair bearing her pack, the other lifting water to her lips as she soaks it all in.

"The spirits, the powers that be," A gesture to Strange with his Vishanti. "They know. They test. The Coronet has not been possessed by just one, nor has your title. The worthy must be weighed, tested, and put in place. Do not let it bother you. The Spirits do as they will, but our titles remain." A touch to her brow and in a shimmer of the lifted guise the Coronet is there and gone upon brow.

"No removal until it is time. It is simply not our time for the wills and wiles, but yes… Something else."

Another sip and she holds the glass near plexus, spinning it in a slide between fingertips. "You heard Canada has the Act in place for those different?" A rise of that hazel gaze now and she meets Stranges own. No, not Vishanti, or Spirits… All man.

"I heard, but those laws would be very difficult to apply here, there is a strong tradition of resistance to government intermission in the lives of the citizens," notes Strange. He would move back to Tibet if they do that, the Supreme Sorcerer cannot be at the service of a single nation.

"As for the actions of being such as the Vishanti, they always concern me. They are rarely what they seem to be, and always hold significance beyond the obvious." Just like with many spirits, really. Only a few orders of magnitude up in the mystic scale.

"That's where they are hoping I come in." Elizabeth states in regards to the governmental resistance.

The final sip of water is taken with a pull that would make it appear as if it was something stronger, but no, it is just her thoughts. "In Canada it works, in most cases, and here they are hoping for a similar method and reaction. But best laid plans.." A shift of gesture and the empty glass slides from her hand, bridging the gap of space between her and the bartop to land there soundly.

"We are not our Spirits, if we always try to define and break down their logic we will go insane," A small lift of one corner of her lips in a wan smile. "Moreso then we already are, Doctor."
You paged Doctor Strange with 'Worked together, he aided Alpha Flight in canon when Talisman had to call for him. I believe it was right before she got brain-fried and had to go through rehab and therapy to function again? Not sure.'
Strange makes a gesture with his hand, inviting Talisman to join him at his table, "most are not incomprehensible, they just perceive the universe in ways we don't but perhaps we should. There is logic to be found, and I believe it is a magician task to discern. Or a shaman, right? And then there are the acts of politicians, sometimes even more incomprehensible. The DEO represents a struggle for power among the power groups in Washington, Elizabeth. I avoid the politics of my non-mystically inclined compatriots out of principle, but this organization is interfering in my tasks."

"That is why we are who we are. We discern them better and live by tennets others cannot. But we still are not our… Teachers." Perhaps that is the best word for Spirits or Vishanti. Ever teaching them and yet confusing them. And yet here they sit.

Pack gathered and seat taken, the large bag is dropped with a heavy thud that clouds dirt and dust up around it. "Politically speaking I am devoid of much of this, home and here, but here I am. Here you are. There's a reason." The mention of the DEO has her eyes rising once more while thumb and index rub together, absorbing the moisture still left from the glass, signifying…

"How?"
"Several ways," notes Strange, taking a seat himself. "They deal with mystical artifacts best left alone. They try to recruit and control sorcerers as if they were soldiers. But magical devices are not weapons and the leaders of the DEO know very little about the occult, and believe even less."

"They know enough." Elizabeth states, leaning forward and propping her chin in her hands to keep her focus on Strange. "Belief is not anything that cn be forced upon anyone, it has to be chosen and embraced. Let's not underestimate them just yet, they are a driving force that is bringing -me- here."

A light tilt of her head and Liz's smile fades completely. "How are you?" There is not much else she can provide him in that subject of the DEO and the US Government quite yet, so let the rising tide shift as it has been years since she has seen Strange.
Strange shakes his head. No, they don't understand enough as long as they believe magic is a thing to be classified and hoarded and refuse to believe in the supernatural world. But he sighs, because believe can't be forced. But neither can unbelief. "I am well in health and spirit. Perhaps allowing certain events to affect me too much. I had some hopes the Justice League would be a bridge of worlds and ideas, and it has been crippled. But I do look forward to work with you."

The way he worded his wellness brings a moment of pause, and a thinning of bow'd lips. Eyes narrow slightly, until he begins to explain some, enough her exhale relaxes her back into her chair, foot hooking heel upon the edge of her seat.

"Sometimes, before things get better… They have to get worse." A pause and Liz finally smiles again. "Work with me?" The smile now comes with a haughty tilt of shoulders and the smile gets no better. That attitude surfacing. "Yes. Why don't you?"
"Unavoidably," he offers with a faint smile. "Unless the DEO knows something I do not," the very concept is laughable. "They will want you to solve problems I am well aware of already. And I am quite sure I know the root of most of what concerns them."

A low sigh has strands of dark hair fluttering out before resettling. Apparently Liz knows something and is not speaking too openly about it.

"The uprising when they seek to do here what has been done in Canada?" A small shake of her head. "I'm here to help…" But how? It has her hands rising, palms up and empty. "And if you know, then you can help me." Now those hands clasp together and fold on the table as she rocks forward in a manner that has the wood beneath the pressure groaning.

"Because as much as you want them gone is as much as I want to go home. Somehow I have a feeling we're both shit out of luck there."

Strange shrugs. "An uprising is far in the future, if ever," comments Strange. "And unlikely to be something Canada would want to get involved with. But otherwise, of course I would help you as much as I can. Let me know what you need."

"And yet here I sit." A gesture to the table between them with a sweep of hand, the electric blue rolling over that amber gaze, shifting it slightly in hue before that hand grabs her bag and lifts it with her own rise.

"I need to go meet them." But his words have her chin lowering in a nod his way, peering around shoulder to look upon him again.

"It is good to have a friend here." Spoken lowly and with a tenor that belies the proud hold of posture. It has not even been a full day and she misses her people.

But sometimes needs shift..
"Very well," replies Strange, standing up. "Good luck with your meetings," he offers. Although he guesses the bureaucrats talking to her will need all the luck. "Ah, and of all the DEO, trust Maxwell Lord the least," he offers as advice. "Farewell, Talisman."

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