abraxaslogs | ( catch-all ) sailin' away on the crest of a wave

[ From what Thancred understands, the Singularity would take some number of suns of travel to approach in person, and while he might be curious, he wonders if it would be in his best interest to do that. Not because he is any stranger to long trips by foot, much to the contrary, but because of the nature of the Singularity itself. A collection of raw magical power such as that might affect him in ways it wouldn't others. He can't be certain of that, but it is possible it wouldn't play well with his scarred aether.

But it's what Stephen says after that which truly shakes him. There were summoned who had died back home, only to arrive here? He tilts his head up toward the night sky above, taking a moment to let that sink in. Did Meteion kill him? He can't be certain, there was no sense of finality in what she did, even if he'd felt like he was trapped in a dark abyss, pressing back against a powerful force...

Was that what death felt like? How is he to know?

It's possible he owes the Singularity for sitting here, alive and well, and that's something he'll need more time to process.

A few moments pass before Thancred realizes that he's let the silence stretch out for far too long. He glances over and nods distantly. ]

And this "place" is somewhere you reach through meditation? [ That would explain why he hasn't seen many people doing it, if it's only the Summoned who have this ability. ] Tell me, is this some form of magick?

[He had been thinking of individuals like Stark, whose body had been used up with the power of the Infinity Stones, like a flash of heat obliterating kindling. He had been thinking of Rhy, whose tether to life once originating from his brother was now replaced by the power of the Singularity itself. He had not even considered Thancred’s situation, knowing so little about him or his world — but the lengthy pause that follows makes him wonder. Makes him guess at the origin of that shade of doubt he’s sure he perceives.

When his attention comes back, even his words, asking after the nature of something new, sound distant. Stephen notes it for later; not exactly a subject to spring on him mid-Horizon introduction. He can maybe wrest it out of him later.]

…More like a new skill than magic. It’s called the Horizon; it’s a spiritual plane, highly malleable. You can recreate almost anything from memory. You could cast spells otherwise unavailable to you in this world.

[If that sounds very specific, it’s because the latter definitely applies to Stephen.]

Several use it as a home away from home. But I’d be subtle about when, where, and how often you visit. Knowing something like this exists could throw our very generous hosts into a frenzy.

[Hobnobbing with those from the Free Cities or Solvunn? Probably frowned upon, especially given the recent growing tensions.]

[ A spiritual plane, where something that Thancred can only perceive as being like creation magicks was possible? The closest approximation he can think of is the aetherial sea, a place that exists somewhere between life and death, though this does not seem to involve the same risks as making use of the Aitiascope.

More interesting still is that the people native to this place are not aware of the Summoned's ability to access this "Horizon." That is reason alone for him to wish to explore it, as Ambrose and the other mages here already know more about him than he'd like. It would help him sleep better if he could hold something over them, as well. ]

I have plenty of experience in being discreet, you need not worry there. [ Yet he nods his head in quiet thanks that Stephen was willing to share this sensitive information with him. He does have some concerns that he'll struggle to access this plane given the scars that Lahabrea and Y'shtola's Flow spell left on him, but there is only one way to know for certain. ]

Well then, how does it work? What do you do to access it, exactly?

[ He mirrors Stephen's pose, legs shifting to cross in front of him as he rests his hands on his knees. Yet it must require more than simple meditation and clearing of the mind, or so he would guess. ]

[He’ll have to take his word for it — but admittedly, beyond giving each other shades of sarcastic grief, Stephen’s first impressions about an individual are often correct, or so he believes. Thancred seems to have a good head on his shoulders, paired with an innate desire to fill the voids in his knowledge. Generally, a favorable combination.

Stephen straightens, recalling the times when he was the one new to mediation. How the other sorcerers, more advanced than him (everyone was more advanced than him, back then) would have to speak plainly during their bouts of guided meditation to avoid a prodding, questioning remark from the stubborn neurosurgeon.

Finding himself on the other side of the equation is odd — often, he leaves such lessons to those more suited to it. Or Wong.]

Ever meditated before? Close your eyes and relax.

[A beat. Then—]

Should warn you about one thing, though.

[Telling someone to relax, followed by a warning, describes just how often Stephen takes up a mentoring role: not very often.]

[ Thancred hasn't meditated himself, but he does understand the basic tenets behind it. He does as he's told, letting his eyes fall shut as he tries to will the natural tension out of his neck and shoulders and then takes in a deep breath. There's something about breathing deep into your center, isn't there? And...

Ah. Nevermind.

One of his eyes flicks open. ]

I suppose I should have expected that.

[ It's rare for there to not be a catch, in his experience. ]

What is it?

[There is, indeed, always a catch. But it’s a lenient one, all things considered, applying only to the first visit.]

Once you’re there, you won’t remember who you are, or any of your life experiences. Effectively, you’ll be a clean slate and spend most of the time wandering and wondering. And then you’ll want to create.

[But it’s worth it. The Horizon is an invaluable resource for them all — not one that should be turned away because of one instance of inconvenient amnesia.]

That only happens during the first visit. The subsequent ones will be normal. But you should know before we go in.

[Just in case. His brow arches again, waiting for Thancred to approve.]

[ Thancred's not certain what he had been expecting, but a temporary loss of his memory, his selfhood, wasn't it. He frowns, staring at his fingers gripped around one knee as he considers what it might be like. Of course, he won't have any frame of reference, but for someone like him who's at times in his life been rather close to rock bottom, there is something appealing about the lightening of that burden.

That thought in and of itself is a weak one, he knows, and so he gives a quick shake of his head. He's seen variations of this, people reborn again and again with no recollection of the life that came before. Not only the Ascians, but Ryne as well. It doesn't make for an easy existence.

This, however, is nothing quite so permanent. After that moment to consider, he glances up to Stephen with a quirked smile and a twinkle in his eye. ]

In that case, I can only apologize for anything I may say or do while I do not remember myself.

[ There are some worrisome implications about this first visit and what it does to them, but Thancred has to agree that it's worth the risk. So with that he steels himself again, closing his eyes and resuming deep breathing exercises. In and out, in and out, as he awaits any further instruction. ]

[Stephen makes a noise at the back of his throat, affecting at unimpressed.]

Mm. You think you're so funny.

[Hardly any real offense, though, only giving as good as he gets. Stephen closes his eyes, exhales, and begins his instruction.]

Relax, focus on your breathing. Steady inhale, slow exhale. Be aware of your breath flowing in and out of your body.

[Meditation is a slow cycle of unrooting the mind from distraction, but it is also a process of release; releasing wayward thoughts, releasing emotion, shearing away everything that is not simple, peaceable existing. Stephen continues to guide Thancred through simple instructions until settled into a proper meditative state -- mind and spirit open to the connection they've inherited in this world: the tether to the Singularity.

Then and only then-]

Focus on that connection, and when you're ready, take my hand.

[He extends his hand, and when Thancred takes it, their transference to their Horizon is swift and wholly complete.

Opening his eyes, Stephen now stands with his companion by his side amid his own domain. Behind them, the Sanctum Sanctorum awaits; at a distance, mountainous terrain lumbers along the horizon line, situated below a clear blue sky. It's cool here, the breeze ushered in by the Himalayas always bracing to all who wander in.

He glances askance at Thancred, lifting his eyebrows. This is the first time he's escorted a first-timer to the Horizon, and while he knows the man's now wiped-free of all memories of import, it doesn't mean he knows how to conjure up a proper introduction.]

...Hello.

[Nailed it.]

[ He does think he's so funny, thank you very much.

For all that, though, Thancred does settle in and focus after that, listening to Stephen's instructions and doing his very best to follow them. It is not in his nature to simply let all of the weight he's taken onto his shoulders fall away, and so it might take him longer than most to find that clear-minded, meditative state that they're searching for. Stephen's steady voice and instructions do help, and as Thancred sinks deeper into the rhythmic in and out of his breathing, he feels himself tethering to something as well. Or, it might be more accurate to say that he becomes aware of that connection for the first time.

There is some great font of power out there in the great unknown, and yes, he is bound to it. He can feel it thrumming and pulsing.

When you're ready, take my hand.

It feels almost as if he's moving in slow motion as he lifts one hand from his knee and reaches out, blind yet sure, to let his fingers brush over Stephen's.

And then, here he is. Thancred finds himself surrounded by unknown buildings, with mountains carved out in the distance and a stranger addressing him. He himself wears a dark coat with a hood that for the moment casts some of his features in shadow. The coat, for all that it's meant to obscure, nonetheless has white trim, and left of his collarbone is a patch with the symbol for Strength etched into it.

Not knowing where he is or who's addressing him is disorienting, to say the least, and he immediately tenses and bends his knees, halfway to adopting a battle stance before he realizes that he should not show immediate aggression in a situation where he understands so little.

His fingers twitch, as if itching for something to grip onto, but he straightens and focuses instead on studying the man before him. He bears the symbol for Death, a comforting symbol despite its name. ]

Hello. [ He responds reflexively, nodding his head as he attempts to ground himself in this unknown locale. It's all rather picturesque, and the nipping breeze is somehow familiar, but he knows he does not recognize it. His complete lack of knowledge is something he finds distinctly uncomfortable, but he would rather not let onto that so immediately. ]

If I may ask... what is this place? [ His hands reach up to adjust his hood around his face, and then he realizes he is also wearing gauntlets. Dressed for travel... or for battle? ]

[There's something revealing about a man who's been diluted into a clean-slate state. All that's left are the pillars of an individual, crystallized pieces that are too ingrained to be swept away by a temporary loss of memory. Parts that might not be so evident at first, now plain as day: Thancred's propensity to fight, evident by a tensing battle stance, or the gauntlets that now adorn his hands. Stephen wonders at how much conflict he's encountered throughout his life, that this should shine through the haze of confusion, but for now, he keeps a casual, non-threatening stance. A hand sweeps out to indicate their surroundings.]

This is Kamar-Taj, or at least the one I've built for myself. It's where sorcerers train. Behind you is the Sanctum Sanctorum, my home.

["Home", amongst other things. But he'll not get into the details, unwilling to throw a myriad of them at Thancred, who needs to get his bearings first and foremost.]

But overall? This is the Horizon, a place where you can build whatever you put your mind to. There are others here, somewhere out that way. [Now, Stephen motions beyond Kamar-Taj's training grounds; though it looks like nothing but mountainous terrain, that much is misleading. There is a boundary to his domain, like anyone else's, and if Thancred should wander in that direction, he would find it.] You're new here, so if it all just sounds confusing to you, that's all right.

Edited 2022-02-20 07:24 (UTC)

[ That is a lot of information to try and process all at once when Thancred is already so disoriented. He breaks it down piece by piece, to make it easier.

Kamar-Taj. He does not know the name, he is certain of that. Given that his surroundings are so foreign, that isn't much of a surprise.

The stranger built this place for himself. That seems impossible, that one person could create such an impressive complex of structures, and so Thancred assumes that it is not meant literally.

It's a place where sorcerers train. Something like a guild, then? He's familiar with the idea, a place where like-minded people meet and learn and train together, and it is a comfort to find at least one thing here that he can wrap his head around.

He risks a glance to the other building behind him, one which appears to be out of place among the others, but his attention is quickly reset on the man as he explains more about this place. The Horizon. That feels correct, somehow, and Thancred nods. Yet the idea of simply being able to build things with his mind sounds like the subject of fiction. ]

And how did I come to be here? It's all rather hazy.

[ He glances down at his hands, already wondering what he might be able to build, or if he'll even be capable of it. ]

[That’s a question with a complicated answer to it, but Stephen won’t waste his breath with an over-explanation. Not when Thancred will benefit from less details, not more.]

That’s a long story. Basically, you asked me to take you here, and so I did.

[It’s technically true.]

Don’t worry about that for now. You can stay as long as you like, but first-timers like to wander and explore. I won’t be offended as a host if you do.

[ He asked him? When and how, if he has no memory of this man or any previous conversation with him? Thancred studies the stranger's face more closely, searching for some indication that he is lying or deceiving him, but finds none.

And if nothing else, he knows that he trust his own judgment with such things.

Yet there is one undeniable fact in all this: the man is right that he feels an urge to explore this area, to see more and perhaps to test whether or not the ability to create is something he truly possesses. ]

And if I wish to leave this place, what then?

[ If nothing else, he'd like to have some sort of exit strategy. Nothing here feels unsafe, but he can't ensure that will remain the case moving forward, particularly if he gives into his wanderlust. ]

[It’s a very reasonable question. No one can be hurt in his plane—well, not permanently, anyway—so the threat is not as looming in the same degree as the unexplored unknown. But there’s no point in trying to explain that to a newcomer, who treads upon uncertain ground with every step.]

Everything in this place revolves around will and intent. You want to leave, just focus inward and will yourself away.

[Maybe it sounds so simple that it’s esoteric, but there really is no better way to explain it. Alternately-]

Or come find me again. I led you here, and I can bring you back. [Hm, maybe a second introduction is in order.] My name’s Stephen Strange, by the way.

[ Focus inward? Will himself? Thancred does not quite understand, but maybe it is something that might become clear in time. If he can leave this place by his own means at any time, that does make him somewhat less wary about exploring.

And he is rather curious to see more of this strange realm that the sorcerer before him has explained. ]

Stephen Strange? Well, that's fitting. [ Thancred did not get his chance to make a comment about that last name the first time they met, the time he does not remember, but here it is now. After a pause, he remembers himself. ] ... No offense meant, but you can't deny that that is entire situation is, well, strange.

[ He continues to feel no ill will from this man, however, and can't shake the sense that Stephen's done him a kindness. ] That being said, you provided me with safe passage here, is that right? Then it stands to reason I owe you a debt.

[Given his interactions with Thancred before, regardless of whether or not the other remembers them, Stephen would have bet good money a remark would’ve been made about his name. He waits for it, really, with an expectant look — and isn’t disappointed.]

No offense taken. According to everyone else, I’m always living up to my name.

[Aha, a debt owed? Stephen doesn’t usually care for such things, especially since it was no trouble to bring him here; he’ll not twist his arm to return some ambiguous favor in the future, once they’re back in Thorne.

Yet given their repartee so far, he has to take some advantage of it.]

You can buy me a drink later. Catch me up on your explorations here. How does that sound?

[ While Stephen doesn't come across as particularly proud of living up to his name, he also doesn't seem to be bothered by the implication that he does. While Thancred would thus far call the entire situation strange rather than this one man, it does make him curious.

Yet that will have to wait for another time. Over the promised drink, mayhap. Thancred decides he likes the sound of that quite a bit, and he shoots Strange a daring smile. ]

It sounds good. I'll keep an eye out for an appropriate spot for us to have drinks as I get a land of the land, then. I would rather not disappoint.

[ Setting off into the unknown with little more than his own instincts to guide him — somehow, this is the most comfortable he's felt since he arrived here. Which, to be fair, hasn't been long at all.

He does turn to take a look at the structures that Strange himself has purportedly created, all of it rather enticing if only for the fact that it's so unknown. ]

Is there anywhere here you suggest I visit before I set out?

[Drinks it is, and maybe even within the sphere of Thancred's newly-fashioned Horizon domain. Already, he wonders at what it would be like; what kind of home away from home he'd create for himself, someone who carries the hallmarks of a warrior but is, relatively speaking, personable enough all the same.

As for the question, though, it's one of reasonable consideration. The Horizon is not a limitless space, but it is vast enough to get lost in, to stumble upon many of its residents' creations, for good or ill.]

Out that way- [He gestures in a specific direction, out past a certain sprawl of mountains that will not be present should Thancred wander that far.] -is the domain of someone I know. He's a good man. He'd welcome you into his home without a second thought. Don't hesitate to drop in if you find his house near the docks.

[He's sure Sam does not mind the invite from Stephen, aware of it or otherwise.]

You'll probably get fed, too, if he's there. Hope you're hungry.

[ While Thancred had been referring more to any notable spots within Strange's own domain, the fact that he first thinks to speak of someone else's is mayhap an answer in and of itself. It's not as if he told Thancred not to explore within these grounds, but it also isn't what immediately came to mind. Interesting.

There's someone who lives by a dock, who will welcome anyone into his home with a warm smile and some food? It does sound tempting, like the sort of place someone might wish to go after a long and taxing day, and yet Thancred finds that his desire to explore high mountaintops or dark caverns wins out, at least for now. ]

If I find myself tiring, I may have to stop by and say hello.

[ For now, he'll be traveling where his whims take him, having no obligations or duties to follow for now. It's an oddly freeing sensation, he must admit, and he suspects that it won't last.

With that, he turns to Stephen once more and bows his head to him. He reaches up to his own shoulder, as if searching for the strap of a pack that is not there. (Is it true, that he could make one?) ]

Once again, you have my thanks. You'll have that drink before long, mark my words.

[ And with that, he turns to set off on a journey into a strange unknown. ]

( catch-all ) sailin' away on the crest of a wave

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