Bringing the house down

[Dr. Strange]

Strange smiled at the beast as it absorbed his energy, realizing now that the absorbing magic would hurt it more than anything he could summon to throw at him. At that moment Strange opened himself up, so to speak, and sent pure energy at the beast, watching him writhe on the ground and continuing to feed him the energy, letting it flow in smoky tendrils in the air, nearly visible, crackling in the air. "I've given you what you want!" He shouted, sweat beaded on his forehead with the effort, and when Sigma left Strange had to use every ounce of physical strength to stay upright. The air crackled as some of the power returned to him, and he stood fully upright, a little color returning to his cheeks. He still looked rather ill.

Now the reporters were out in full force and Strange, preferring a quiet life without anyone knowing of his powers held up a hand. There was a single loud crack and a dozen men and women, cameras in hand looked suddenly confused, staring at their electronics with slight shock. They objects were broken, ruined by a single thin line of magic that shot out like a lightning bolt from his hand and returned without difficulty, the sorcerer shook his head slightly at the men and women, now bemoaning their fates. Let them return and find new cameras, as long as he wasn't there when they took their pictures. He had bigger problems at the moment.

He was in something of a rage, annoyed beyond belief at the child and his idiotic dog. How dare they distract him? How dare they get involved? The idiotic children. He walked over, his eyes flashing, "You! You and your idiotic mutt could ahve ruined everything! You are lucky the magic hurt him rather than helped or you could have killed all of these people! Fool!" He had a hand curled, the finger pointed out, the hand was shaking sharply. This child could have ruined everything and Strange, as happy as he was that the battle was over, was dreadfully angered.

[Battle Scar]

Chris could not believe what he was hearing from Dr. Strange all he could do was cross his arms and glare at him. His dog Weenie, now shrunken down to his petite Dachshund form simply layed down in the grass comfortably while Chris stood there.

"Excuse me?! Number 1 old man don't call my dog idiotic! He's more intelligent than some real life people I know! Number 2... I was here before you even shown up! Bloody hell if anything I think had I not shown up to keep him occupied more people would've died. I could have simply sat back with my thumb up my ass but did I? NO! Because I wanted to stop that guy as much as you did!"

Chris takes a deep breath clenching his fists. This day couldn't get any worse for him. His vacation ruined. His car ruined. And now he's getting yelled at by some sorcerer.

"Number 3... He's a mother !@#$ing dog! If you think I had it planned for him to get involved you're crazy! Why do you think I left him in my car?! How was I supposed to know that he'd have enough strength to rip the door off?!"

By now Chris didn't really care what he was saying. He simply felt an overload of emotions coming on.

"Number 4 for a kind old wise sorcerer you are quite a scum bag considering the fact that I tried to help and I get yelled at for doing the right thing. Oh and way to tell me a lot about your personality. Very mature..."

He says pointing to the media now with broken cameras.

[Dr. Strange]

"And when you realized you weren't doing anything but lending him more power you should have sat back!" Strange shouted back, the reporters were crowded around once more, resorting to notepads now that cameras and recorders had failed them. The argument only served to annoy him further, He was exhausted, power was slowly leaching back into him and it made his head ache. he pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead, and looked down for a moment, when he looked back up his eyes were flashing once more, and the exhaustion was blocked behind a furious mask.

He stopped shouting now, his voice lower and rather harsh, "Perhaps you should have the animal put up for adoption, that is normally what happens to disobedient beasts." He stared down at the boy, eyes still flashing dangerously as though he intended to simply move him to another location to get him out of his way. He didn't have the power, he tried very hard to calm himself down, to relax, maybe he was overreacting a little. Just a little.

"And it was mture, a mature person does not thrive on the attention of the media. A mature person does not look for fame by getting into fights they cannot win and damaging the attempts of the person who can." Strange took a deep breath, "Do not propose to question me, infant spawn of Tyrus."

[Battle Scar]

By now Chris was fuming. Chris bent down and picked his canine companion up and held him in his arms.

"No Grandpa! I'd rather sell my soul to the devil himself before giving my best friend away! He simply is trying to protect me."

He says as the dog licks his face a few times lovingly.

"And when in the hell have I looked for fame?! I'm not looking for fame. They are simply doing there jobs! And ya know what? I'd rather be known as a humble hero than a complete ass hole like you're making yourself to look like. And for the love of god I did jack squat to damage your attempts! You got the job done! Congratulations! Go get a cookie!"

He says by now really about to lose control of his temper. This is just a field day for the media. 2 heros fight off a villain only to get into a huge argument afterwards.

"And another thing. Who in the blue hell is Tyrus!?"

He says clearly confused. He wondered if Tyrus was one of his Dungeons And Dragons buddies or what.

[Ayin & Sigma]

((OOC: Exit Sigma. Enter DR. Frederic Grunbaum – the man Sigma was looking for in the first place))

Only moments earlier, joined by a common goal and the need to defeat the power-wielding madman who had left the campus a bloody ruin, the two heroes had fought together. Now they fought each other. It was an unusual sight, seeing the heroes of the moment slipping into a very public squabble, but understandable perhaps.

Their loudly vocalized disagreements were interrupted quite unexpectedly, as a short, wiry man emerged from beneath the rubble.

“Uhm. . . excuse me. . .” The professor adjusted his bent glasses and dusted down his singed lab coat as best he could.

“Is it safe? Has he gone?” Dr. Grunbaum blinked and swallowed hard, before wrinkling his dusty nose. “You see, I think he was looking for me.”

[Dr. Strange]

"Tyrus is a place not a person you ignorant, foolish little..." Whatever he intended to finish with was cut off by the sudden appearance of a man in a singed lab-coat. Strange swallowed his anger, calmed himself down. He was the Sorcerer Supreme, and the ma's appearance reminded him of that. He couldn't get into arguments like this for no reason, he couldn't just shout someone down because he felt like it anymore. That wasn't how it worked anymore. He shook his head and turned away from the child, slightly calmer.

He now looked the doctor up and down, taking in everything from the singed coat to the dust on his nose. "You are the man he was shouting after? Frederic?" Strange nodded and extended a hand, "Dr. Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme at your service. Perhaps we should find somewhere safe for you to stay, though I don't think he shall be back for some time..." Strange paused, giving the man a curious look, "And why was he after you anyway? He seemed very mad."

[Ayin & Sigma]

“Ah yes, that would be me.” Frederic nodded at the older gentleman’s original question.

Dr. Frederic Grunbaum was a short and nervous looking man, and his appearance hadn’t been helped by the situation. He was sixty one years old, and feeling every minute his age. His small, thin face was crossed with shallow wrinkles and framed by a dirty tangle of thick, greying hair.
Only his eyes, hidden behind chipped and bent glasses, belied his age. He looked back at Dr. Strange and his youthful companion with an alert, observant gaze and eyes that sparkled with brilliant intellect.

“Dr. Frederic Grunbaum, very pleased to meet you both.” Frederic extended a blackened hand to the two heroes in turn, before continuing.

“In answer to your question Dr. Strange,” Frederic paused, pondering the origins of that name, before beginning once more, “There is a significant difference between what he is now, and who he used to be.” Dr. Grunbaum dusted some more dust and rubble from his shoulders, as his face went ashen.

“That thing calls itself Sigma. It’s a tormented being and an incredibly dangerous energy manipulator – or vampire if you prefer.” A hand ran absently through his greying, dusty hair, “And he wants to kill me and around thirteen other scientists in the New York area.”

Frederic sighed and breathed heavily, looking back up at the two heroes with damp eyes, “I’m sorry, you’ll have to forgive me. Traumatic stuff this. . .” He gestured behind him, towards the ruined campus.

“Now. . . yes. He was a Dr. Erskine, Jared Erskine. - A brilliant experimental nuclear physicist and a colleague of mine several years ago. I think he blames me and several others for ruining his reputation, and forcing him to cause the accident that made him what he is now, though you can’t be sure.” Dr. Grunbaum slowly lowered himself to the floor and sat, cross legged, in front of Dr. Strange.

“Completely mad. . .” He sighed heavily, before putting his head in his hands.

[Battle Scar]

Luckily a doctor interrupted the 2 heroes from absolutely killing eachother. He walked over to him still holding his dog tightly.

"They call me Battle Scar... This is my dog Weenie. So this guy is simply a disgruntled employee huh? Any idea where his next target will be located? Perhaps we can protect the others before he gets to them.

Chris said wanting to help. While Dr. Strange and Chris disagree on a few things it is safe to say that they can agree on one common thing. That thing is that they want to take this villain down.

"Are you alright sir? Do you need any medical attention?"

He says seeing how his lab coat is singed.

[Black Widow]

Forgot to log out nd log back in as Strange, shnite.

"Thirteen others..." Strange began to think, trying to decide what to do. They would have to be protected from that creature, of course, but going to each in turn and waiting for the beast to show up would make things very difficult. There was another solution, he was sure of it. He just needed to think. And think he did, until a solution presented itself as simply as if it had always been there. He closed his eyes and considered and then nodded.

"I think I have a solution. If he thought absorbing my power would be difficult I have something he should enjoy far more." The doctor gave a wicked smile and reached into a pocket of his coat, there was a pen and a small piece of paper in it. He looked over at Chris and started to write down the address of a place in Greenwich village, the elegant Victorian mansion that served as the Snactum Sanctorum, his home. The place threw off more magic than Strange could ever dream of, he handed the paper to the boy. "Take Dr. Grunbaum here, if he will give me the names of the other doctors I'll go collect them, they should be safe there, if magic truly harms the beast than this should serve as a good place to keep them safe. There's plenty of room..."

He looked down at Dr. Grunbaum, "The names, please, this is the best way I can think to assure their safety, all of our safety, until I ahve found a way to destroy this beast of a creature once and for all."

[Battle Scar]

Chris grabbed the note he got from Doctor Strange. He looked at it seeing the address. He nodded his head and turned back to his car that his dog ripped the door off of.

"Alright... Just give me a minute..."

He says before he turns and places his dog gently on the ground. Picking up the car door where it lays with his dog trotting behind him he walks over to the driver's side of his car. He pops open the trunk and starts rummaging through it pulling out a role of duct tape.

"Drastic times serve for drastic measures..."

He says as he duct tapes the door back onto the car. It definitley wasn't the prettiest looking thing everbut it will have to do for now. He stands back and looks at the car with literally half a role of duct tape holding the door in place and sighs.

"And to think... I don't even have this car paid off yet."

He says before he throws the tape back into the trunk and shuts the lid. He proceeds to walk back over to Dr. Strange and Dr. Grunbaum.

"Alright i'm ready whenever you are."

He says as his dog sits by his feet looking at everyone with a curious look.

[Ayin & Sigma]

Frederic looked up at the youth who’d introduced himself as Battle Scar. It seemed like an appropriate enough name for the boy, judging by the numerous scars that covered his bare torso and limbs.

“No. . . not an employee. Actually, he used to be a friend of mine. We worked together for a few years.” Dr. Grunbaum smiled wanly as he turned to Dr. Strange, listening to his suggested method of protecting the remaining fourteen scientists on Sigma’s death list.

"Thank you, but I'm fine. Just a few knocks and bruises is all." He attempted to smile back at the youth's offer of medical attention. He doubted he was entirely well, but he didn't feel like staying out in public any longer.

He took the pen and paper from Strange and stood slowly, jotting down the names and any number of addresses, numbers and places of work he could remember. It wasn’t as if the death-list met together on a by-weekly basis like some kind of morbid club. In fact, he hadn’t seen most of them for a good few years, though he had read a few of their theses.

“A few of them probably won’t want your help you know. I’ll take it, certainly.” Frederic told the sorcerer as he wrote, “Not like I’ve got anywhere to work right now.” He gestured to the cluster of ruined buildings once more.

“They might be a little wrapped up in their ‘important’ work - Too busy to worry about the exaggerated rumours of an ex-colleague and associate of theirs on an unstoppable rampage.” Frederic handed the paper back to Dr. Strange.

“Somebody should probably help the injured and start trying to clean this place up.” He looked around the rubble-strewn landscape.

Finally, Frederic turned to the young man, “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

[Battle Scar]

Chris heard the go ahead from the Doctor and he turned to his car but not before he turned to Dr. Strange.

"Doc... Be careful man... If you need help don't be afraid to give me a shout."

He says before he guides Dr. Grunbaum to the blue 2002 Honda Accord. He opens the passenger's door and he slides in stumbling into the driver's seat since basically opening the driver's door would end up ripping the entire door off.

"I know it isn't the BMW you probably were expecting but it's a set of wheels that can get us to where we need to go."

He says half wittingly. Weenie leaps up into the passenger's seat and proceeds to crawl over and sit on his master's lap. Chris reaches over into the back seat and grabs his CD holder. He pages through the CD book until he finds the CD he was looking for. He pulls out and pops it into his CD player. Turning the key in his ignition the engine turns on.

"Alright next destination... Greenwich New York!"

He says letting Dr. Grunbaum get into the car as he buckles himself in with the seat belt.

[Dr. Strange]

Strange accepted the paper with a nod of understanding, glanced through the first few names and tucked it away in the pocket of his suit coat, surprisingly well held together considering the battle. He brushed his fingers through his hair, appeared relatively respectable, and took a deep breath. His power was leaching back to him bit by bit, as if he’d never given it up in the first place. He felt remarkably more composed than a few minutes, even to the point of regretting his little shouting match. “If they do not see reason then I do not have the time to waste on them… For their own sakes I hope they come.” He was about to turn away and begin toward the first address when the boy expressed concern for him, Strange laughed rather hollowly, straightening his suit coat. “I can’t see any help you could give against this creature. Just hurry there, don’t stop, and lock the door behind you… Stay on the first floor.” That was the last thing he needed, a curious teenager wandering about the Sanctum unattended.

He started toward the first address, leaving behind the reporters, moving through the empty streets like a wraith until he found the home of an elderly man, “Excuse me, are you Dr. Bachman?”

The man, this doctor, nodded, taking in the stranger’s oddly singed clothes, lucky the Eye of Agamotto was out of sight, he never would have gotten past introductions. “I don’t know what you’re selling but…”

“I’m not selling anything sir.” The voice was quiet, calm, and exceptionally authoritarian. “I’m Dr. Stephen Strange, a neurosurgeon.”

The man in the doorway looked him up and down very curiously, “I read your thesis on hallucination resulting from extreme cases of oxygen loss, this was years ago, it was quite brilliant.” Strange nodded politely, a little taken aback that people could remember such things that seemed to him very far off. Another life and another world, or so it seemed to the doctor. “Now why would you be at my door?”

“Well… I suppose you heard of the explosions at New York University, I was there and ran into a Dr. Grunbaum. The explosion was no accident, Dr. Bachman, it was planned by a former colleague of yours, a Dr. Erskine. Dr. Grunbaum is currently staying at my home, where I believe you will be safe from his attacks, the energy he draws from that place will only serve to injure him.” Strange offered a slip of paper with his address, nodded briefly, and began to walk away. His job was done, just twelve more to go.

Two more incarnations of this conversation his cloak appeared fluttering in the breeze before him, he grabbed it and wrapped it around himself, taking to the air and making the journey that much easier. The fifth person on the list was not there, nor was the seventh, the others he found, though how many would believe him was another matter entirely. Several repetitive conversations and nearly two hours later he was headed home, back to the relative peace of his Sanctum. Nearly crippled from exhaustion, the chill wind flying in his face as he moved, he finally made his way to Greenwich Village and found himself at his old manor. He touched down lightly on the stone stoop, the door swung open for him and closed upon his entrance, he hung his cloak on the hook and a long, silvered sword appeared in his hand. “Well?” Was all he asked into the dim hallway, the weapon held almost loosely in his grip.