2014-11-09 The Good Doctor
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Doctor Strange, Gambit, Phantasm
GMed by N/A
Title: The Good Doctor

Doctor Stephen Strange's mansion is located in Greenwich Village. The address is 177A Bleecker Street, New York City, NY 10012-1406. His Sanctum Sanctorum is located within the mansion. There is a large window in the pattern of the anomaly rue (a strange magic algorithm). Guests are greeted by Wong. Unwanted guests are usually stopped by protective spells.

Welcome to the Sanctum Sanctorm. Home of the underworld and magic in the northwest coastal region. Or even the northwest Hemisphere. Or even this realm. In the basement sleeps a mutant that's been down there for a short while since he was put to sleep via a serum injected by a demon infested woman. Standing over the mutant is a short asian man with a platter held in his hands and a warm glass of water in the middle. Wong leans to the side to place the cup and try on the nightstand next to the comfy couch. Then he begins to examine the newest guest in this magic house.

The man in the trenchcoat rustles uncomfortably on the couch. The lids of his eyes flutter briefly before opening, slowly revealing his unique eyes that set him apart from most people. It was those very eyes that had him labeled a demon at birth, though this mutant is no demon, at least not of the sort his host is used to dealing with. Remy LeBeau reaches up to rub wearily at his eyes, willing his vision to stop being blurred. When he notices the small asian man, a small frown appears on his face. "Merde," he mutters playfully. "Usually when I wake up in a strange place, I p'fer ta see a pretty lady." He tries to sit up, using his elbow to prop himself up. "Mind tellin' me where I'm at, mon ami," he asks.

With a soft, kind, and yet firm voice, Wong looks over to Remy with a blank expression, "When people wake up from what you've been through, they're usually more grateful." Wong says giving a knowing nod towards the mutant before he departs the room. As he leaves a second set of feet work their way down the steps. "I'm informed you're awake finally." Says a decidedly more European tone, more American. The source of the voice make's himself visible with a soft smile on his lips, "Are you sore, any pain or discomfort?"

"Grateful," Remy responds with a smirk. "Oui. Merci, homme," he says with a slight sarcastic tone. He watches with reserved confusion as Wong leaves. The confusion is only added to as the next man enters the room. With a heavy sigh, he swing his legs around so that he can sit up on the couch. He rubs at his neck where the syring had been used, which admittedly is still a bit sore. "Just yo' av'rage Saturday night," he jokes coyly. His dark eyes narrow as he looks over the man before him. "Mais, I'll ask 'gain. Mind tellin' me where I'm at? Dis ain't no hospital I evah been too."

"This is my home. This is the Sanctum Sanctorum." Stephen says as he pulls a chair over to him with just a gesture of his hand. "I am Doctor Stephen Strange." With a firm look towards Remy. "A normal hospital wouldn't have been much help to you." Then leaning back in the chair and crossing his legs as he scoots back in the chair. "What was the reason you went down that alley?"

Most would probably be taken back by the sight of a man summoning a chair to him with just a wave of his hand, but not Gambit. Hes seen much stranger in his day, for sure. He doesn't offer up his own name when Dr Strange introduces himself, no need to give this man too much. "Why," he parrots the question. "Le's jus' say I'm a good s'maritan, non?"

"I'm going to assume you're new into town." Stephen says moving his hands to steep his fingers in front of his face. "There has been a demon problem around and they have even been infecting regular humans and mutuats. Saving folks is now being turned into a recruitment of sorts to fill their ranks I am inferring."

"Demons, eh," Remy says regarding Strange with some skepticism. "We talkin' pointy tails n' pitch forks 'ere?" He grins mischievously. He leans back into the couch. Being born and raised in the Catholic church, Remy is more than familiar with the concept of the angels and demons, but he always thought of them more as a fairy tale than anything else.

"Yes. Demons." Stephen pulls the warm water off of Remy's tray and holds the warm cup in his hands to warm his digits for a moment. "Thought the stereotypical description, you are correct." Stephen was a skeptic just like this mutant up until a few years ago. "I understand it's a tough pill to swallow but your religions for the most part have been right about a great many things."

"None of the demons Loki and I fought had pitchforks," the shape of a purplish black raven appears on top of Remy's head looking down at the cajun. Despite the new visual and audio, there is no weight to him nor any sensation of the bird even being there. The beaked face turns, looking to the Sorceror Supreme, "Hey Strange. Just got here. Seems like I showed up during an interesting topic choice."

Remy looks around the room, trying to pinpoint the source of the new voice. "No good deed goes unpunished," the cajun mutters almost silently to himself. "Look, Monsieur Farfelu," he says raising his voice to a more audible level. "I'm jus' a victim o' de wrong place at de wrong time. I t'ink I'll just be headin' home now, got my own demons ta fight, non?"

"You may need to keep an eye out and an ear to the ground." Stephen says with slight frown. "You should start listening to some Nick Drago." The wizard notes with a knowing glance towards the bird. "I was wondering when I was going to see you again. You have been missing your classes lately." Calling Mike out in front of his newest friend.

The bird gives a bit of a grimace before hopping off of Remy's head to land on the floor. "Sorry, had to pop out of the country for a bit to take care of a few things." The two foot tall bird looks over to the Cajun, "Keep an eye out. Wrong place and wrong time seems to meet up a lot in this city. Especially with the Demon issues." He looks over to Strange, "Did you mention London as well?"

Looking at the talking bird in front of him, Remy begins to wonder if whatever that girl used to knock him out wasn't causing him to hallucinate, even after having come out of his extended deep sleep. "Demons talkin' birds Someone care ta fill me in?"

Stephen looks up suddenly as if he heard a noise. Then looking back to Remy and then to Mike. "Ask him yourself, he could fill you in just as well as I could, if not better." Stephen says standing up and sending the warm cup back to the tray. "I'll be up stairs, there's an issue elsewhere Mike." Then the doctor quickly makes his way to the door. "You're welcome to leave at any time Remy, just don't touch anything." And with that the Sorcerer Supreme leaves the two.

The raven watches the sorceror leave quietly before looking over to the Cajun, giving a wing wave in greeting. "Hey. Judging from you not freaking out by all of this, I'm not going to have to deal with you having a shit fest when I mention other dimensions, magic, otherwordly powers, and the relationship to religious beliefs, am I?"

"Allouette," Remy says with a smirk, "Right now, I ain't completely shur dis ain't all just some wierd hallucination, non? Den 'gain, growin' up where I did, you see some pretty weird shit on a regular basis." He cocks his head to the right regarding the talking bird again. "So tell me, Allouette, you a hallucination ou non?"

"Allo-?" The bird repeats, pausing, eyes narrowing. "I'm not your hallucination." He turns, walking over to Strange's vacated chair, the bird's shape shifting, expanding to something more humanoid before settling on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. There is the lack of a visible features where the face would be under the hood but being this came from a bird, that's probably one of the less disconcerting things about this. Phantasm turns and sits down. "I could spend awhile explaining what I am but it's quicker to just say that I'm… complicated. Basic spiel. Aquired abilities during a changing point in life, new things to deal with, something something magic. Someting something another world." He leans forward, folding his hands as nothing stares back from the void. "But no. You're fine. Other than ending up on some demonic shopping list, just peachy."

"Peachy," Remy agrees sarcastically. "Look, I got no idea what de two'a you got goin' on 'ere, mais, pretty shur it dun really involve me. Magic tricks ain't really my game. So, if you'd be so kind as ta show me de door, 'n I'll jus' be on my way."

"Yeah sure." Phantasm replies, "In that case, I'll just fast forward to the stuff that might actually apply to you. We got demons possessing people, and they're getting help from humans to do it. There are people vanishing and if what I overheard is any indication, probably by the same means you ran into. It's very hard to figure out which ones are the possessed until they attack so if their past exchange with you made them decide you're a must have, you might see them again."

Remy cracks a crooked smile. "I tend ta' 'ave dat effect on den ladies, non," he jokes. He sighs lightly. "But, what you're sayin' is dat I got a big target painted on my back now," he asks. The suave cajun outstretches his arms in either direction, resting them on the back of the couch. "Nothin' new dere," he mutters. S'ppose it ain't as simple as you ou Gandolf givin' me an amulet or castin' some lil spell on me ta protect me from de bad guys."

There is the slight glow of a fanged smile at the mention of casting spells. "Oh now you're interested?" He leans back, lifting an arm up to rest on the arm of the chair, "There's never going to be anything that's fool proof but, for someone with no training whatsoever, I'd repeat Strange's suggestion and say listen to some Nick Drago. Especially the hidden tracks. Maybe it'll help, maybe it won't."

Remy chuckles. "Nick Drago? Not quite my speed, homme. I p'fer de classics, not dis swill dey call music des days," he says.

Phantasm shrugs, "It's your life."

Remy's eyes widen at the strange man's response. "Hit a sore spot, did I," he asks with a quizzical grin.

The head tilts, "Why would it? We're practically drawing a map for where to look for something that MAY or may not help you. It's entirely up to you whether or not you want to follow up on it."

Gambit shrugs. "Fine, I'll listen," he says wearily. "Dere anyt'ing else, I should know, Allouette?"

"Phantasm." The former-bird corrects, "And lighten up, I could have been mean and told you to listen to all of the CDs instead of just finding the hidden tracks." He shrugs, "Annnnd it's not like it's a guaranteed help. Might not even work for your type at all. And even if it does, it won't kill or exorcise the demons. Just maybe stall or deter them."

"So, I lissen ta dese hidden tracks, an it may ou may not keep dese demons dat may or may not be lookin' fo' me at bay," the cajun asks, seemingly getting annoyed at the situation. "Tu sais," he continues, "I'll give it ta you two. Not quite shure what angle you workin', mais I ain't bitin'. Now ifn' you don't mind, I t'ink I'll be headin' home ta sleep off dis hangover, or atleast chase it away wit some hair'a de dog, an' put dis all b'hind me."

"Hmm." Phantasm replies, shifting to get on to his feet, "Don't really blame you. It does sound weird as hell. But, you can't say we didn't warn you. So long as you're not hurting others or helping the demons, I don't really care." He pauses, "Any particular area of town you want to get dropped off at?"

Gambit shakes his head, "I can find my own way, Allouette." He stands from the couch, and looks out the door down an rather expansive hallway. "Den 'gain, ifn' you can show me how ta get outta 'ere."

"That would be the Wong way. Wong?"

At the call of his name, the servant of Strange appears, gesturing in the direction of the exit. "This way."


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