[ At some point in a brief and even match, Stephen has the bright idea to turn the tide with something other than magic. An advantage, he thinks, to have hidden power. Only it turns out running neural interference on a thing that simultaneously has no mind and has yours if the flimsy containment of your sanity had finally collapsed isn't, in fact, an advantageous move.
And so when Stephen Strange emerges from around the heap of rubble where he's left the slack, singed but breathing body of a man who looks remarkably like him to be found and preyed upon by other lesser creatures, he looks a little - changed. Off: beard too long, robes too worn, hair too limp.
He takes a seat on a nearby chunk of concrete and sighs his satisfaction, his disappointment, both. And past him, before he has a chance to stop it, there darts a red blur.
The Cloak goes in search of the familiar. What it finds first is a suit in combat and dives it, racing around Tony twice before snatching at his arm with a wrap of fabric and yanking the way it'd just come. It only waits as long as it takes to be confident its meaning is clear before twisting in the air and flying back to where a strange man waits for the reinforcements his old turncloak of a friend is calling in to patch up the mess he's just made. ]
for tony / ingeniar.
And so when Stephen Strange emerges from around the heap of rubble where he's left the slack, singed but breathing body of a man who looks remarkably like him to be found and preyed upon by other lesser creatures, he looks a little - changed. Off: beard too long, robes too worn, hair too limp.
He takes a seat on a nearby chunk of concrete and sighs his satisfaction, his disappointment, both. And past him, before he has a chance to stop it, there darts a red blur.
The Cloak goes in search of the familiar. What it finds first is a suit in combat and dives it, racing around Tony twice before snatching at his arm with a wrap of fabric and yanking the way it'd just come. It only waits as long as it takes to be confident its meaning is clear before twisting in the air and flying back to where a strange man waits for the reinforcements his old turncloak of a friend is calling in to patch up the mess he's just made. ]