Taming the Dragon (open)

[Dr. Strange]

He rested his hands an inch from the skin of her face, one on each side, the gem on his chest glowed even more brightly and hung not from his chest anymore but in the air in front of him, as though possessed of a mind and will of its own. Strange took in a deep breath, as though he intended to jump into very deep, cold water, and met her eyes with hid grey ones. He wasn't looking at her eyes though, he was moving through her mind, pulling her along past abrupt flashes of vision and memory. They were convoluted pictures, he did not understand them up they were not the Sorcerer's to understand. He was doing this for the benefit of the girl, and she could sort through them well enough, or so one could hope.

But the journey was brief, far briefer than it should be. To describe the stop would be impossible, save to say that it was the mental equivalent of running headfirst into a brick wall. It was not the end, but there was something blocking him from continuing forward and it hurt enough to send him out of the girl's mind and into his own. He blinked, rapidly, his hands flying away from Anamieth's face as though he had been burned. They were shaking, and not the minor tremors that had always plagued him, but noticeable shaking. He was aware thathe had probably shouted when he'd run into the block. he stepped off the stool, shaking his head.

"Someone's put a block on your memories. It's very powerful." His hands had stopped shaking at least a little, but they were still worse than normal, he moved toward the book he had left off to the side, flipping through the pages once more. "I can get past it, I think, it's strong but not permanent. but the signatures of magic are odd..." He was talking half to himself, distracted by the remaining tingle of unrecognized magic. It was a creeping, uncomfortable feeling. Far from painful, but enough to put one on edge.

"Anyway, I don't know if I can break it now, not for a while. It was too strong, it's drained my energy. To break through will take more effort than I have to put in." He left the book opened on a new page and set it on the stool, brushing back his hair, the tremors still making fine motor skills difficult at best. He felt very cold, though the room was quite warm, and as he started out his cape had fluttered onto the landing of its own accord, hanging in the air for him to reach out and take. "I suppose it's now a matter of finding out what put the block on you. I don't recognize the signature of power, and I don't want to try anything before I know. It might be dangerous." He wrapped the cloak around himself, shivering as if he had a fever. "Have you any idea?"

[anamieth]

When his hands were inches away from the skin on her face she did not back away, she stood still without even flinching. It was odd for her to have somebody this close even though she had the feeling there was once one who was even closer, but she could not remember. She looked straight into his eyes once he took a breath and braced herself, it was beginning. She could feel how he looked into her memories, it did not hurt, but it was strange nonetheless, she continued to stand idly without breaking her gaze.

She saw memories, it was brief and what she saw made sense, these were the memories she did remember. Just before she herself felt the block she saw the one memory, this one memory was the last thing she knew. It was brief, almost like a silhouette, but she knew, she knew that she did not remember anything that happened before the event at hand.

She wasn’t sure how Strange saw it, but to Anamieth it almost felt like she was reliving the memories she could recall. Everything went by like a blur, but one memory did not race past her, one memory went by sluggishly, almost as if in slow motion. The last thing she remembered was seeing the palm of a large blue dragon mere inches away from her face, but she did not feel threatened, in fact she found herself feeling safer than she ever felt before. She recalled how the dragon removed his palm and looked at her, she saw his face, the blue one was much older than she was, but was far from being an adult.
She saw the look in his eyes, the look she would never forget, it was filled with fondness she never recalled ever seeing before. But as nice as the memory initially seemed, one thing about it would never cease to haunt her…that same pure dragon that looked down at her so fondly was dying, she did not have to look at him to know, she could feel it.
The blue one was foreign to her, a complete stranger and yet she had the feeling she knew him, she couldn’t explain what she was feeling even if she wanted to, it was above mere words or more precisely there were no words in existence that could describe it. She watched him intently, she saw the glow, the brightness in his eyes slowly dimming, dying away…at this moment she felt like a part of her was being torn apart. She also recalled a triumphant laugh and a Human-like person that bore the stench of a murderer, said person lunged at her, he carried a large blade. The young half-breed wanted to defend herself, but a voice yelled at her, ordering her to flee. She didn’t know why, but she did not question the order, she did as she was told and fled. The last thing she remembered was somebody yelling after her, she did not recall the words, not because she couldn’t, but because she didn’t want to.

There was no way for her to look further back, she knew the block was there and couldn’t help but wonder if Strange would be able to get thought it, but that hope quickly dwindled when she was torn out of her memories. She blinked and looked at Strange whose hands were trembling, she watched him step of from his stool and walk over to his book; she did not follow, she just stood idly in the middle of the circle watching him. She listened to his words…and tilted her head when he spoke the magic patterns were odd. Odd? The magic pattern was foreign to her, but at the same time it felt familiar...too familiar for it to be a coincidence.

She watched him wrap the cloak around himself, she looked at him and pondered. Was he cold? She gave him a concerned look, but did not bother to question him. She raised an eyebrow when he asked her if she had any idea about the power.

“…it may sound weird, but the power…felt both foreign and familiar to me. And I’m not sure if it helps, but the last thing I remember are two people. If you saw my memories I think you saw them…one was a pure dragon with blue scales and the other was…some person wearing a dragon’s skull on his head…and the power felt like it was a part of the blue dragon and it felt like I knew him,” she said, although not really sure if her words made any sense.

[Dr. Strange]

Strange nodded, “I saw a part of your memories, but understanding them was beyond me.” He was still shaking, more from cold than shock now, the tremors uniform over the body clasped within the thick red cloak. It was at times like this that the doctor very much missed his wife, who would have floated in right now and forcibly dragged him from this sort of work. As it was, he would likely spend the next several hours pacing this room, thinking until the feeling started to return to his fingers and he could muster the energy to break through the barriers in the girl’s mind. It was likely unhealthy, but the doctor tended to nurse a rather unhealthy obsession regarding his work. So it had been as a doctor, so it would always be as a sorcerer. Whatever Clea had managed to temper had come back in full force now that she had returned to her own home.

He shook his head again, dragging the cloak closer about himself, moving up and down the room. She was speaking about something, a blue dragon from her memories and a man in an odd mask. “Perhaps that is it. A dragon’s signature… Not human of course, but a dragon would not leave a human’s mark…” He picked back up the book, marked the page with his finger and began looking through again. The writing might have been Latin, then again, it might not. Whatever it was, Strange understood it, and his grey eyes flickered over the words with their customary quickness.

“A dragon, yes, but why he blocked those memories is what is important…” There were so many different reasons, so many different things to fear and worry about in the case of the child. The barrier was not meant to be there forever, but whether it was meant to be taken down or simply fall away was another matter. He would have preferred to attempt now, but he was far too tired, his eyes wouldn’t focus properly. “If you are very serious about this than we can get started soon, in a few hours, I just need to rest for a little while… Come along, we’ll go back to the library, it’s warmer in there, more comfortable.” He opened the door once more, walked across the landing, and opened the door to the library once more, taking a seat behind the desk. “Have a seat,” He reached over for the picture of his wife, sliding it over so he could see it better and shaking his head once more, when he really stopped to admit it he did miss her, well, no time for that now.

“Why don’t you tell me how you got here, why you came to the city?” He pushed the picture away and rested his chin in his palms.

[anamieth]

Anamieth looked at Strange with worry, she watch his movement and how he dragged the cloak closer around himself, she could tell he was cold, she could tell he was tired. She nodded once he said they could try later, once he rested. Once again she followed him, this time back to the library and she did have to agree with the sorcerer, it was warmer here, but whether it was warm or not did not truly bother the half-dragon. She took her seat yet again and sat in silence, until he raised the question of how long she had been here and why she came to the city.

She looked up at him: “…I’m not sure how I got into your world, it feels like I’ve been here forever. And as for why I came to the city…I felt lonely all by myself,” she said looking down: “…and I felt drawn here for some reason, I don’t know why though,” she added looking back up at him.

The young half-dragon couldn’t help but wonder…why was that block there? Why did the blue dragon put it there? Who was he? Why did he feel so familiar and yet so foreign? And who was the man with the dragon skull on his head? Why? Why? Anamieth sighed, she had so many questions and found herself unable to find appropriate answers, seeing her blocked memories would perhaps be the only way she would be able to understand, but that had to wait. The look on her face was one of deep thought, it was the kind of look one wouldn’t expect to see in someone as young as she was, but she had every right to be thinking. Why was she here? There was a reason behind it, wasn’t it? Why was she born only a half-breed? She had heard the saying more than once: 'Every being, even a half-breed was born for a reason.' She shook her head slightly in a attempt to rid herself of the ever rising questions, she felt the urge to just ask away, but she did not want to burden the sorcerer even more.

But there was one thing she could simply not shake off…that look in the blue dragon’s eyes was literally burned into her mind and wouldn‘t leave her alone, seeing that memory wasn‘t helping. Why did he look down at her so fondly? Like he knew her all his life? And more importantly…who was he?
She closed her eyes for a moment, her mind seemed to be chanting ‘why why why why’ like it were some kind of mantra. Just then something hit her, not psychically, but mentally and it literally felt like a full circle slap in the face.
Anamieth did not jump, instead she blinked in a very confused manner, a very incredulous look present on her face, for s few moments she just sat there…that expression plastered on her face.

“Xavenith…” she said in almost a whisper, but just loud enough for it to be heard; she looked up and blinked. Where did that come from all of a sudden? She slowly looked back at Strange almost as if wanting to ask if he heard that and if she really did say what she thought she said.

[Dr. Strange]

“Sometimes with magic it acts as a magnet, perhaps you were drawn by the Sanctum. Or perhaps it was simply fate, who knows?” He shrugged; he was so tired it was getting harder and harder to think straight. But he felt warmer, the physical exhaustion was creeping in from the mental and he could deal with the physical. He moved his chin from his palms and rested his forehead on them instead, looking down at the dark, polished wood of the desk. He felt his mind drifting, first to the spell forms he would have to use, the complicated patterns, words, the movements of spells he would need to break down the wall. The patterns were strange, he knew that the threads of the spell would hold off his normal attempts, they were too delicate and too strong. He thought the Book of Vishanti would help though, and his wand. They were nothing to the power of the Eye, though, and now that he knew what he was up against he could use that perfectly.

His thoughts drifted to the other picture on his desk, the black and white of his family. He could still remember his sister’s voice; she had always been his favorite. He could remember his brother’s voice too, shouting right before the screech of brakes and… “Xavenith?” The girl’s voice had made its way through the fog in his mind, the name pierced it. He knew it was a name though he hadn’t ever heard it before. He had been inside of her mind and he could identify bits of the memory still. He felt warmer, stronger, he could think so much more clearer, and the name rung a bell that he wasn’t sure was in his own mind or just reminiscent of hers.

He kept his forehead on his palms, though, he couldn’t stand to move it just yet. It ached far too much, but at least it was warmer now. “Xavenith, the dragon in your mind. He was blue, I think he’s responsible for the spell… It’s not malevolent, it’s there for a good reason.” He was still thinking very hard about it, he decided something, “If you remember his name, perhaps it is breaking down.” He straightened in his chair and stood, the cloak no longer clutched around him. The gem on his chest began to flash again.

“If you want to try again we can, it should be weaker, and we can push through. It won’t take much, but you’ll need to do it by yourself, I can only assist.” It would be true even if he were newly rested, the barrier wasn’t meant to be broken by him, he knew that. It was her job. “Would you like to give it a try?”

[anamieth]

She looked at Strange and nodded, it was true, she did believed the dragon’s name was Xavenith. But who was the man with the dragon’s skull on his head? She did not know him, but there was something about him she did not like… But the block being there for a good reason? That was beyond her, why would somebody want her to be unable to remember? She pondered, was it something she had done in the past? Or was there a different reason? A certain memory she was not supposed to see until the time was right perhaps?

When he asked if she wanted to try again she nodded without much thought, she did want to know why her past was blocked and if the sorcerer was up to it then there wouldn’t be much of problem. But she was slightly concerned…what was she going to see? She shook her head slightly trying to dismiss whatever thoughts wanted to wander in, only time would tell.

“Must I will it to break? If so I can try,” she said to him with a brief nod.

[Dr. Strange]

Strange was standing in front of her, he shook his head, “Not to break, no, will yourself past it and it will fall on its own… Breaking it might cause you to go mad,” He smiled very slightly, “We don’t want that.” He reached up and placed his hands on her shoulders, he was still cold, and the hands were next to icy when he rested them on her. It was both a manner of lending her power and keeping himself upright. Though mentally he was confident of his abilities, the whole ordeal had physically exhausted him, he wanted less to crawl into bed and simply to sit down on his floor and use his cloak as a pillow. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, the gem hung in the air once more, flashing scarlet, his hair started to stand on end.

“Now, travel through your memories, don’t just remember but relive, as you did when I was with you before.” He couldn’t see into her mind, he didn’t need to; he just needed to walk her through it. “When you get to the point where it stops, where the block is, push through, do not force, just move, press against it, remember that it is weak, that this is your mind and nothing can be there without your acceptance.” The gem hand moved, so that it hung in front of his slightly bent head, the light of the Eye could see the truth past anything, and it was this Light that he was casting forward, like a flashlight into the darkness.

[anamieth]

Anamieth felt his cold hands on her shoulders, the sorcerer’s hands were as cold as ice and that made her worry, she gave him a concerned look. But that expression quickly left her face…she understood what he means, she was supposed to pass, but not force herself through, she nodded, understanding. She saw him close his eyes, the gem he had was hanging in the air, flashing. She knew it was beginning.

She stood her ground idly and she felt her mind drift, she knew she was back in her memories, it felt the same as it did last time. The memories she saw before passed her, they were all brief this time; she stopped and stood before the block, it was there she could both ‘see’ and sense it. She knew the block was there and she reached for it, it felt oddly warm and comforting far from what some might expect from a mind block. For a moment it felt like she was hovering in warmth and she felt drowsy almost sleepy, but an odd pull snapped her back to full awareness. She looked forth at the block, something on the other side was calling out to her…or was she just imagining it, maybe it was falling apart like Strange said. She approached slowly expecting to be thrown back, she braced herself, but nothing ever came.
She felt a second tug, but this one was much stronger and before she knew it, she felt it was pulling her through…there were no words in existence that could describe that odd feeling. She felt like she was pulled to the very beginning…

At first everything was black…almost blank. What was this? Before she knew it she saw a form that was clearly Human, but she could not fully recognize the face, her vision was slightly blurry almost like the vision of a newborn. But the scent, the person’s scent soothed her and the Human’s presence was more than welcome…but to the young half-breed’s disappointment it faded.

Even though she was reliving a old memory, Anamieth let out a sound that could only be described as a whimper, the same kind a young dragon would make, she was not aware of the sound she uttered, her mind was too occupied with the memories flooding her mind.

Everything faded away, but only moments later she saw a large dragon-like silhouette, but it was not the silhouette of the blue dragon, it was different, it was too big, far too big even and ancient, it‘s presence felt almost like that of a divine. She gazed up at a pair of golden eyes that were similar to her own, but these were far older, far older than anything else was and far more powerful that anything else, it was overwhelming, but at the same time it was caring, noble and kind…almost like a father.

“Father…?” she uttered, once again not aware of what she said.

The silhouette became much clearer, now what she saw was the face of a humungous dragon with crimson red scales and golden eyes. She felt like she was being held in one of those huge palms. Was this her father? An ArchDragon, she could not take her eyes of the great, almost godly being before her. She saw dragons, there were many different colors and sizes, they were passing by…and looking down at her? It almost felt like they were looking straight at her, she could feel their breaths and smell their scents, it was so real.

For a moment all faded into black, it almost felt like this part of her memory was…a dream? …or perhaps something that she heard in her sleep? She wasn’t sure which, but she could hear voices, she could hear several dragons speaking to each other in their ancient language. She did not catch the whole conversation only bits of it and one voice was familiar, it reminded her of the blue dragon…Xavenith.

The dialogues were strange and made little or no sense.

“My Lord, it is part of the prophecy.”

“I do not care if it is prophecy…I will not allow my child, my daughter to grow up in the massacre of this war…we both know how war affects wyrmlings. She is not responsible for it and she will have nothing to do with it.”

“…the Lord’s own twin brother…a traitor of his kind.”

“The first Fallen…”

Anamieth could hear the words, it almost felt like an echo in her mind, but one sentence in particular caught her attention.

“Xavenith, go to Terra (Earth) with her…she must not be a part of this war.”

Those words made her pause completely, her mind felt almost numb for a moment, she wasn’t sure if it was due to this memory alone or due to all of them flooding her mind. Was this the first time she met Xavenith?
She saw the blue dragon's face…yes it was, it was their first meeting. She recalled how she gawked at him curiously and without the slightest hint of fear whilst the blue dragon looked down at her, chuckling in amusement.

It was not long till it felt like she was flying or more precisely it felt like somebody was carrying her whilst they flew. Usually she would have felt save, but the sound of a roar powerful enough to make planets tremble unnerved her to no end. She could see it…a pair of crimson eyes glaring hatefully, the dark form seemed to slither forth from the darkness, this beast was about the same size her father was…but unlike her father this one was sinister. The same sinister form faded away making her sigh in relief.

The memories that came by her next were brief, but she felt every single one of them. She felt like she was watching, feeling or more precisely reliving her entire life (even if it wasn’t that long) and Xavenith was there every second of it. He was always nearby, watching over her, protecting her and teaching her. He was almost like a second father to her, always caring and patient, both firm and fair. The memories following were peaceful…until she came back to the memory she saw last…
She quickly snapped out of whatever state of thought her mind was in only to realize she was reliving the same memory she did last time, the same memory she never understood before, but now it was clear. Xavenith was not some random dragon, he was her guardian, she was his responsibility and he died protecting her from the man wearing a dragon’s skull. Now it was all clear…

Whilst all was now clear, she still did not understand the prophecy, not because it was blocked, but simply because nobody told her of it, ever.

Things she didn’t understand about her past before were now clear, but she felt sad…now she knew that she had lost the one who was like a father to her, Xavenith. He died, defending her.

She pulled out of her memories violently (she had seen enough) and backed away from Strange, she felt sllightly overwhelmed and her heart was racing. She looked forth only to see the sorcerer, she made an almost whimper-like sound, the type of sound a wyrmling would make when attempting to call an older member of their kin to come to them…upon finally snapping out of her daze she silenced herself and looked at the sorcerer in silence. She didn't know what to say.

[Dr. Strange]

The Light of Agamotto faded out, the gem lost the magic that had held it up and dropped heavily down. Dr. Strange, now fully unable to keep his feet under him fell into his desk, supporting himself with one hand and leaning over. It had taken mere seconds for the girl to break through the barrier, but it felt so much longer, it was a lifetime of energy he had put into her. Sweat beaded on a pale forehead below his hairline and his hair hung loosely around his face, no longer quite so neatly held in place. He closed his eyes, took a very deep breath, and tried very hard not to throw up. It didn’t stop him nearly gagging though, he sucked in another breath, his skin had gone as white as paper.

He had been working too hard, that was the problem, not resting enough. He’d need to take a break after this, but for now there were more important issues, the girl was making the most unusual sound, as though she were crying out for something, or someone. Strange centered himself, dragged the cloak close once more, and pulled himself into a standing position. He looked more the frail old man than ever without that mantle of power to draw around himself. He shivered in the cold and looked over at the girl, concerned less now for himself and more for her.

The whimper was a child’s noise, and for a moment Strange very much feared that she had pushed too hard against the barrier, that she had driven herself mad fighting. He shouldn’t have pushed her to do it, not until he was stronger, or she was more prepared. But the whimpering stopped, he looked up and saw that same piercing gaze, so odd for a child, but normal for her. He was very relieved. He shivered and pulled the cloak even tighter, “You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He started, referring to the memories, knowing full well his own distaste at such things, “But I think that now you have some measure of your past it would be good to think on your future… I think that you could make a fine sorceress with some training, were that a path you chose to pursue.” It wasn’t hard to sense the power coming off of her, with a little fine tuning it could be well suited to her.

[anamieth]

She stared at Strange, the stare from before now a worried look. Was the sorcerer alright? He seemed so horribly pale. She could sense he was not well and that worried her. She watched him shiver as he pulled the cloak tighter around himself. She did not have to tell him anything if she didn’t want to, that’s what he told her and she wasn’t sure if that should made her content or not. Sure it was good if you didn’t have to talk about things if you didn’t want to, but she herself did not mind to speak about it, for there were several things her memories did not answer, the questions that rose after she had seen her memories, some things were not explained to her, but deep inside she felt like she knew nonetheless.

Anamieth did not look away from Strange, she was sorry that she backed away from him and made him fall as a result, she gave him an apologetic look. At that moment she paused…she would make a fine sorceress should she choose that path? She tilted her head slightly, she knew of her past now, but that still didn’t tell her what path to take. What gave the sorcerer the idea that she would make a fine sorceress, was it due to her dragon blood. It was stated by many that dragons are the “top dogs” of the magic world, but nobody really knew if that was true for nobody ever got the chance to ask.

She knew her memories now, but none of her memories ever hinter her on what to become…maybe she should choose to become a sorceress, she wasn’t sure yet, but she did know that they wanted her to choose her own fate, her own destiny. But that did not mean she knew what to do next, her mind was still racing to sort out everything.

“…I really don’t know,” she said: “Would I do okay as a sorceress?” she asked, it was obvious she still wasn't completely sure about her own purpose.

She was silent for a moment before adding: "...are you alright?" there was concern present in both her voice and eyes. Even though she asked for his well being she knew he wasn't alright.

[Dr. Strange]

Strange nodded, holding the cloak closed with one hand, leaning against the desk still with the other. “Yes, I think so. But it’s not a decision to be made in the moment, it can wait.” She had made it past the block with relative ease, she had drawn on his offered power without damage, she was standing there thinking very hard about the things he had seen. Above all else, she had dragon blood, so she was naturally able to perform and cast, or would be with training. He had missed having an apprentice as well, Clea was gone, and the other apprentices had left for other places. It had been dull lately, just he and Wong and the spirits he summoned into the house.

She asked if he was alright and Strange smiled slightly. It wasn’t a question and it amused the sorcerer very much. “I suppose not, just tired, though, it’s nothing life threatening.” He started to turn away from the desk and took his hand away, intending to reach for something nearby and nearly landing flat. He caught himself just in time, shaking his head and blinking. He needed to rest more, he couldn’t just go a week without sleep, casting Sendings and then breaking through blocks put in place by other-worldly creatures. It wasn’t something he was able to do, nor could anyone in the world.

“I just need to rest for a little bit, a few minutes of silence and peace will do a world of good. If you want to help, you can go downstairs, the kitchen is to the right of the staircase, and make some tea with the leaves in the yellow canister to the left of the stove. You should make some for yourself, it’s Osthmanthus, it’ll help you relax and think a little clearer.” He sat down on the floor in front of his desk, cross-legged and leaned his head back slightly to look into the ceiling above. “Just come right back in, don’t bother knocking, I won’t hear it.” He closed his eyes, head still tipped back, his breathing started to even out as if he was asleep but he wasn’t, just meditating, thinking about something else and remembering the day quite vividly in his own way. It was the equivalent of several days sleeping but so much more, the next few minutes, until she returned, would consist the next several days rest for him and serve quite well, one could hope.

[anamieth]

Anamieth looked at the sorcerer intently, she could tell he was tired, she could sense it. She was relieved to hear that he only needed a few minutes of peace and silence to recover; the young half-breed blinked curiously at him when he said she can help by making some tea, she nodded agreeing to do just that.
While Strange was resting she quietly left the room, she moved without making a sound. She followed the given directions and walked into the kitchen, she looked about the room looking for the things she’d need to make this tea.

The young half-dragon never made tea before, but she had seen Humans make it more than once so she had a pretty good idea about what she needed to do. She explored the kitchen for a few short moments before finally finding the kettle - which seemed to be made of metal or something of the sorts - she filled the tea kettle with fresh water and stepped to where the stove was. Holding the kettle in one hand she looked down at the stove, not really sure how to use it. Not bothering to figure out the stove she decided to make the water boil her own way.
Anamieth held the kettle slightly above her head and spewed a small steady flame from her mouth, careful to keep the small fire from becoming too intense, the last thing she wanted to do is blow up the whole house by accident; the fire she could spew could easily do so, so she made sure she was extra careful.

Once the water boiled she stopped and looked into the kettle, content with the temperature she placed the kettle on the stove to look for two cups, a tea pot and the canister. She searched about and looked into a random cabinet before finally finding the tea pot, she had always seen people make it by using a tea pot so it was only natural that she went looking for one. She took the pot out and placed next to the stove, locating the yellow canister she opened it and took out just the right amount of leaves. She took in a deep breath through her nose…the leaves had a pleasant, calming scent. Due to her sensitive nose she could pick up the scent with no effort at all.

She took the small lid of the tea pot and put the leaves in before finally pouring the hot water in, she stirred the whole thing with a clean spoon before putting the lid back on to let it steep for a few minutes. With the tea steeping she stalked about the kitchen looking for the cups, she was being very patient and careful in moving about the room, she did not want to break anything. Once she found the cups she walked back over to where the tea pot was, looking into the pot she sniffed the steam coming out, she could tell the tea was ready so she poured it into the two cups, careful to put the same amount in both cups. She remembered to put the kettle and tea pot into the sink after she was done with making the tea.

She looked down at the two cups; she managed to make tea without blowing anything up, so she was content with herself. Shrugging, she took the two cups and went back upstairs to the study. She used her tail to open the door quietly before entering the room, once inside she closed the door again. She walked over to where Strange was, she stood in front of the resting sorcerer, she looked down at him whilst she held a cup in each hand. She was silent not wanting to disturb him, she knew that anyone would be displeased if disturbed; she simply waited patiently.

[Dr. Strange]

His sister shouting at him because he’d used her magic book to summon a remarkably orange dragon into the lake behind their house. He tried desperately to explain that he couldn’t have, because he was busy trying to perform a Transsphenoidal procedure on their little brother, who was only a baby and wide awake the whole time. Clea was standing beside the baby Victor in a surgical gown, trying to calm him down with a fairy tale about a half dragon who couldn’t jump over a wall and into a swimming pool of spiders and then… The smell of tea and the realization that someone else was in the room awoke the sorcerer from this bizarre parade of half-fanciful objects and moments. “Where the Hell did April get a spell-book… And what in the world did that have to do with spiders?” He was talking to himself, trying to sort through the mess of strange recollections. Reaching up one hand he took a cup of tea from the girl, aware of her presence in only the most roundabout way. He sipped the tea and nearly choked, it was exceptionally strong.

He forced the sip down, however, set the cup on the desk above him, and clambered up. He really did look far better, his skin wasn’t quite so pale, and it was only the nerve damage in his hands that caused them to shake, nothing more. Even his eyes which had had an almost dull coat cast over them from sheer exhaustion now looked interminably bright and very sharp. He pulled off the red cloak, letting it flutter on its own down the stairs and back to its hook, and brushed his hair back with both hands, letting it fall almost neatly into place. He picked back up his cup, holding it in both hands, and watched the half dragon move. She was surprisingly graceful for such a large creature.

“Well then, Ms. Anamieth…” Even his voice sounded stronger, more solidly there. He leaned against the desk with his legs out slightly, crossed at the ankles. “What are we going to do with you? Have you considered staying here, at least for a while?”

[anamieth]

Anamieth looked down at Strange and tilted her head. Was the sorcerer dreaming or something? She couldn’t really tell. When he reached up for the cup she simply let him take it. She watched him take a sip and nearly…choke? She looked down at her own cup, shrugged and took a big sip, the fact that it was both hot and strong didn’t seem to bother her at all. She looked back at the sorcerer, he seemed much better that before; the young half-dragon perked up noticeably, but it was impossible to tell whether if it was because of the tea or because she was glad that Strange felt better.

She tilted her head slightly and sat down a few feet away from Strange so that she was facing him, she looked back down at the cup. The tea really did help you relax and think better, she took another sip before stopping to listen to the sorcerer with great curiosity. When he spoke he sounded stronger and much more rested, she smiled in a childlike way as she listened to him, the cup still in hand. She made a slight swoop type movement with her tail, but quickly stopped, the sorceress’ words made her pause.

Stay here? She blinked at him, considering. She didn’t have anywhere to go, but she wasn’t planning on staying anywhere as well. She didn't know how long she's been in the mansion and it didn't really matter, but she felt like flying about a little, she felt like she was being 'grounded', but she quickly dismissed that feeling. Looking back at Strange she made a shrug type motion with her shoulders signifying that she didn’t know.

“I don‘t know,” she said: “…if I’m not annoying you and if you’re ok with it, then staying here is ok with me too,” she added.

Anamieth was just so young and naïve, somebody with ill-intent could easily fool, deceive and maybe even corrupt her; this was a fact the young half-dragon wasn’t aware of, but to one who was a keen observer it was obvious. She looked at Strange again before taking another sip of her tea, only a small one this time. She then closed her eyes and relaxed, but she was obviously still paying attention.

[Dr. Strange]

Strange nodded, smiling slightly, looking rather pleased about it. He couldn’t see why anyone would find this girl annoying, but then again, his variations on annoyance were very specific. He found this girl to be sweet, earnest, and rather bright. A few days and he would likely become very fond of her. She reminded him rather of Clea, or rather, how he always imagined one of their children would turn out. Perhaps not eight feet tall, but so naïve, so… so innocent, and curious. He took another sip of tea and pushed himself away from the desk, waving the door open from a few feet of way, beckoning for her to follow as he headed out onto the landing. “It won’t be a problem. It will be nice having someone else around, Wong, my servant, will appreciate not having to deal with me alone at least. Apparently I can become most unbearable when I’m thinking.”

He took another mouthful of tea and began to climb the staircase that led to the third floor of the house it was where the bedrooms were, at the top of the staircase he waved his hand once more, a door to the side opened, revealing a beautifully furnished though rather plain room. It was done mostly in blues, and though it was clean it had the unused feel common amid guestrooms all over the world. The poster bed stood in the center, a dresser beside the door and across the room, in front of a large, bay window (Now standing open, curtains blowing in the breeze) was a wooden desk, chair, and lamp. “I think the window should be large enough for you to climb out of without any great difficulty.” Dusk was falling outside, the air flowing in wasn’t so stiflingly hot and humid as it often could be.

“However, if you do want to go out to fly I’d ask that you do me a small favor…” The idea had come to him while he rested, in between the dreams laced with dragons and family. He held up a hand, and faint swirls of what appeared to be dark smoke came together to form a solid, though near weightless necklace, set with a tiny dark stone that flashed when held to the light. “It’s a Shadow spell, to make sure you won’t be seen unless someone looks very closely, and knows exactly what to look for. That way people won’t think they’re going mad when they see you flying.”