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]thats good to know sis. said the young ninja

Yuriko nodded, "That would probably be a good idea." The Japanese noble sat and sipped her tea, "I ... want to see what is going on outside. I need to see if things are worse."

{Enter U. Steven Strange from Audra Ailith}

Steven popped up in a rather beautiful office--all deep, rich woods and jewel toned accents. It was considerably more subtle and classy than he would have expected, assuming that the office really did belong to a version of him, and he immediately felt even more intimidated. "...Okay..." he said softly. Nothing was going to get done with him just sitting there. Gingerly, he moved over to the desk, sat down, and picked up the closest piece of paper in a pile of extensive notes.

It was in Arabic.

He gave it an unamused glance and muttered, "Translaturum..." turning the flowing script into perfectly legible English, at least in his own mind. The actual words on the actual paper were still in Arabic, technically, but until the spell wore off, he would read them as if they were English. Without further ado, he started reading, automatically reaching out with absent fingers for a quill, intent on taking notes of his own.

Strange let out a strangled yell and immediately stood bolt upright. "Fulminares!" A strip of honest to god lightning (though it was green) crackled through the air like a whip, reducing the snake on his desk to fine powder before diving underneath it and doing the same to whatever was down there. "...Holy..." Steven gasped. That had been really, really freaky.

... Then his eyes narrowed, eyes flicking around the room. "Alright," he said loudly, "I'll bite. What do you want?"

Steven's eyes flicked over the older man's features, apparently filing them away for future reference. ... There was something... A kind of echo of this same power elsewhere in the house. Weird. "Congratulations," he snapped, sarcasm fairly dripping from the word, "You have eyes." The photograph on the desk (of his alternate self with a balding man in a wheel chair, a man who looked very much like Tony Stark, and several others) showed a man who was at least fifteen years older than he was. AT LEAST.

His nerves still buzzing with unspent adrenaline, the young man crossed his arms as well, is expression decidedly peeved. "And you are... who exactly?"

"Well, I'm all kinds of sorry about that," Steven replied flatly. "Consider me welcomed. You can leave the way you came in." It was official; he didn't like this guy. The man's facial expressions alone were enough to set his teeth on edge.

Steven's glare softened very slightly, though his posture remained wary as he sank back down into his chair. "I'm not looking to make enemies," he allowed carefully, "But I'm trying to get caught up with all of this nonsense." Here he gestured around himself, indicating his older counterpart's extensive notes. "Never mind that most of it seems to be written in dead languages. Who does that?" he added in a frustrated murmur. That last part seemed to be both rhetorical and largely directed towards himself.

Steven hesitated. "... It was a knee jerk reaction," he replied cautiously after a beat. "It's been a... really long day." Understatement of the YEAR. Once again, the phantom sensation of cold, choking water bubbled up in his throat, and he pressed his lips into a thin, tight line to keep from coughing more. Stupid freaking Dormamu. He shuddered to think what had happened after he'd...