Queen, Goblin and Mage

June 27, 2018:

Yet another traveler pokes a hole in New York's reality. Doctor Strange comes running to find this odd redhead and her pet goblin dog.

Downtown Manhattan

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

Why here?

Why now?

A darkness opens in midday and the hissing whispers of maniacal voices seem like a miond conflicted brought into the world and when they converge it is like the thunderclap of hands in an applause!

Standing in the midst is a woman of crimson hair, twisted and bunned up from nape to crown where ends cascade down toi the bare span of skin between shoulder blades.

A force resonates to keep her tied and bound, tentacles of ether sweep upward to try and slam downward and Cthulu the woman back into the meta-physical tear, the response of an echo is like a scream across the plane that she (re)Births into!

Massive: The Goblin Beast claws from the depths of Darkness portal to lunge into the path of 'tentacles' and be slammed to the ground as it is not the wanted 'prey'.

Concrete flings like shrapnel in directions that shatter storefront windows, cause potholes to surface and a richter to scale where New York's Greenwich is normally unaffronted.

People flee!

Sirens wail!

A ripple sweeps across the (n)ether as a massive goblin beast falls and a Red Haired Woman pets the skeletal facade of her deep pitch colored "Pet". A flicker of fire hued gaze to the emerging bystanders, a leer, and with a single blink they are GONE!

A memory perhaps?

Not real… To them at least.

But in an alley the woman in a vinyl body suit, corset laced to cling to svelte figure, kneels… Beside the massive mound of 'Bamfy' while she croons affectionately.

"I know this was a bad spot to choose, my Pet, but I sense the closeness they have here…" Crooned as she pets the beast laden in whip-like burns across its flanks, opened and festering from The Crossing.


As it is getting alarmingly frequent lately Strange didn't had time to sleep or meditate last night at all. After the daily checkup and reinforcement or wards, putting down a couple fires (metaphysical ones) and sending the mystical equivalent of an e-mail to his errant disciple. Wong presented him a list of books to recommend to one Anthony Stark person, who is dangerously curious on the occult matters after an incident too many with evil magic. Strange felt like he needed to quickly review said list and add a few notes.

Most of said books are long out of print, rare limited editions for odd groups, but none of them is too hard to find for a man of Stark resources, and they are written by people that knew what they were talking about and didn't want to mislead the readers. The very basic library for a beginning occultist, really.

Time for a nap!

All alarms flare as the Orb of Agamotto detects a gate to demon realms / reality warp downtown Manhattan.

In the name of the bright and flamey Faltine. What now?

A stealthy teleport spell later a tired-looking middle-aged doctor stands on the place Madelyne and her pet crossed over. And casting some forgetful spells to terrorized bystanders and some reality reinforcing spells to keep elder horrors away while the veil between worlds recovers.

About five minutes later he heads for the alley. Yes. Bad Spot! Bad Bamfy!


Maddy has already placed a 'Memory Blanket' on those present to the assault, bu the reinforcement is felt before placed.

Maddy's eyes shift from the Red to the Green as Strange approaches, but her "Pet' is the priority, the stance of the woman one between the 'Supreme', and Bamfy. A breeze rustles the fur-lined lapels of her trench coat. A tease against prominent jaw-line that lofts with the approach of Strange.

Proud. To say the least.

Even 'Bamfy', tries to rise, but the acute /slice/ of her hand has the beastback on the ground, resting against summer-heated concrete.

Steam rises around the Canine-Like figure of beastial proportions.

"Can I /help/ you?" Stated from the feminine vocals while a gaze of moss flickers back and forth from blood to earthen in her search!


Strange frowns, directing an appraising glance to the redhead and the monster. Said redhead reminds him someone, but… it has been years since he saw Jean Grey, and the woman 'feels' very different to his other senses.

"Good morning," he greets politely. "I should be asking the question, I am a doctor. Stephen Strange, at your service," he adds, quite deadpan. "I was nearby…" he adds, "and you caused a small commotion. I am probably just the first of several people coming to investigate. So, may I know your name, miss?"


"A doctor cannot help my… Pet." Maddy casts a glance towards Bafy, who is illusory of a massive Giant Cane Corso, before the eyes of this "Doctor".

But it is casual despite the fact that the illusory mental replica is covering a skeletal-like facial structure of a canid where theonly fur lines the lowewr exposed mandible. It is a horror to those who can see Bamfy for who he is!

"Good?" A tilt of Maddy's head as she keeps herself pointedly between Strange and Bamfy.

"Did I?" A coy tilt of head. Cause a commotion?

Strange can feel that ripple of /sway/ meant for his memory and envisionment. But Madelyne knows not of his precise placement although…

Her chin rises, lifted from the fur-lining, a silver-lining ripped from the hide of another beast to make her dressing that much more 'elegant'!

"Madelyne…" A step towards him, a sway of hips, a loft of shoulder where the fur slips to expose the lining of contoured shoulder, the slope of flesh. Her hand extends while lips painted a blackened crimson peel from teeth in a smile. "Doctor.. Strange?"


Strange easily brushes away the psychic illusion Madelyne is trying to push into his mind, but offers no comment. A big dog is a good disguise for what seems to be some kind of demonic animal. Since said dog has not and is not trying to eat anyone he assumes it is civilized, or tamed. Or both.

'Madelyne' does not ring any bells. The woman could have escaped a demon dimension or she could be a agent sent to Earth. Certainly there is something in her that gives Strange 'bad vibes', but that does not mean she is hostile. Just probably dangerous. Yet so are Satana, Daimon and Illyana and many others among his allies. Can't judge a book for the cover, and all that.

So he steps forward, takes the offered hand and bows gracefully, kissing the knuckles lightly. "Pleased to meet you, Madelyne. Welcome to New York. Oh, and if your dog is injured, I might be able to help. I have some experience with rare breeds. In this city a doctor needs to learn all kinds of… strengeness."


Those eyes of crimson-hazeled emerald watch Strange from his pensive-ness to the brush of lips upon her knuckles.

Meeting his gaze, 'Madelyne' is unwavering, stoic, and holds a 'loftiness' in her posture as she rights with Strange after his Greeting to her.

The step forward, though, is like a tango in her own step 'back', one that braces her positioning to keep herself between The Strange and her Beastie-Bamfy. A glance his way has a fond smile curling one corner of her lips, but upon Strange the lift…

Flatlines..

Bamfy, in that motion of contact tries to rise,a bubbling gutteral /snarl/ comes off like a bass-line exhale of a death rattle before he falls, and that smug posture of Maddy's comes to one of relent - even while her hand is still captured within the 'Doctor's' own.

A slow draw back, and her fingers pulse a curl that draws a stroke down along the outer contours of her cloak that paints along a svelte silhouette.

"I see…" Stated casually as she flicks the flow of her "cloaking" back, the wisps of red hair along her jaw cast deeper shadows while she watches him. This Strange Doctor. "I accompany you. I wish to learn your medicine." Words tuned to order and not accept. Every bit of Madelyne is regal…

.. Or pointed. Barbed.


Strange chuckles, but shakes his head. "It won't be necessary to move him," he offers. Nor is he sure he wants to invite Madelyne to the Sanctum yet. She is not hurt and she seems pretty capable to take care of herself.

'Bamfy', he is not so sure. Demons are harder to kill than dogs, but not indestructible. If Madelyne allows, Strange kneels at the monster side, examining him with a sorcerer's eye besides a doctor's eye. The strange Goblin Force creature is not like anything he has seen before. And Strange avoids using strong healing spells because of his distaste at manipulating life forces. But he knows how to strengthen and accelerate the healing process of living creatures.

Does Bamfy count as 'living'? No harm trying, he figures. So he murmurs some words, his hands moving an inch over the goblin's body.


Madelyne nods, but once more, the drop of chin is risen /higher/, to acknowledge his unwillingness to 'move' elsewhere.

It is her sly smile that belies what her narrowed gaze portrays in suspicion upon this Doctor.

When Strange nears Bamfy, the beast keens, and the sound is like an exhale of 'souls', haunting - haunted, multifaceted. It screams and sighs all-at-once.
Until Maddy's hand rests on the skeletal mandible and strokes assuringly along the beastial length of features. "He will cause you no harm, my /Pet/." A beat. "I promise." There is a moment of challenge, trial, as if she would draw blood over harm to her massive "Cane Corso" if this Doctor does more harm than help.

Bamfy is very much alive, constructed from a cosmic realm into 'being' on this plane, attached to it's maker, it's… Queen - Unflinching as the process begins to accelerate the healing process over the dark-skinned beast. Madelyne watches carefully, her hand stroking from the jaw to that of the lashed skin that is sealing rapidly.

"And what kind of Doctor, are you?"


"Surgeon," replies Strange, glancing up to give Madelyne a brief smile. "Although I have to admit currently my old medical skills are generally used to help with, ah… physical trauma."

Or metaphysical trauma. Sometimes. "I am also a sorcerer of some repute," he adds, standing up. "Which is what drawn me here in the first place," he stands in front of Madelyne. "Your companion is going to recover, but he needs to take it easy for a day or two. Where you followed here? From… whatever other place you were, I mean. Not to the alley."

Last time something like this happened there was a Demon Bear rampaging across New York for months. And the blizzard from hell.


"I am also a…" Maddy's voice is almost a replica of Stranges'. "Person borne of where the light kisses the dark." Maddy looks at Strange, locking his gaze with her own..

Even if the veiling spell was seen through, Maddy does not lie in the reciprocal view between then. Emerald gaze is piercing to the Doctor's own.

"Do not judge my pet."

"Surgeon. Strange." Maddy whispers as she loooks downward for th first time since the initial introduction.

"I have no following," A poignant pause, her eyes rising back to his as her posture slowly re-inflates.

"Aside from you." A small re-emergenceof that /smile/, whie she watches Strange and 'Bamfy', cautiously…
…like a seprent and its haunted prey.


Strange nods slowly. "Good to know. I suspect the denizens of the other place you came from are not the kind of tourists New York needs." But as he said, chances are he is only the first of those who will come to investigate.

And under normal circumstances he would invite Madelyne for breakfast at the closest cafe, honestly. But he is in his last legs and the redhead does not seem much more dangerous than the typical New Yorker nowadays. He has no reasons to restrain her, although he will try a background check in the afternoon.

"Pleased to meet you, Madelyne," he murmurs. "If you need a doctor any time seek me at 177A Bleecker Street."


"How pleased?" Maddy resonds while placing her hand upon "Bamfy".

"I will find you," A pause in her speech, as /Binding/……

" Bleeker St-" Bamfy rises and cuts Maddy off, he skeletal tail lashing around her wrist, dragging it down to a level that equates,
…Silence.

Maddy stands there, that one hnd upon Bamfy, stroking over the essence of ether that heals his wounds on this Plane.

A lift of fingers and the whisps whirl beneath the flare of nostrils. "Pleasure…"
Inhale.

"All Mine."

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