Though Dr Strange no longer lived in Kamar-Taj and his responsibilities were related to being a master of New Yorkâs Sanctum mostly, he still often visited the old place that had changed his life once.
Whether to exchange some books or talk to Wong (and irritate him a bit sometimes) or give a lesson or two as a âspecial guestâ, Stephen always found a reason to step by. He just liked his little trips to this magical place.
âItâs just one portal away, anyway.â He often said.
Today he came by to drop a book to the library. He wasnât planning to stay here for long, but he decided to take a walk within the walls of Kamar-Taj as a form of active meditation before he went back to New York.
Even though he tried to clear his mind, his thoughts started revolving around the day when heâd come here for the first time, searching for help. Soon he found himself wandering through hallways near the door that once had opened to him and had changed his life forever.
When he heard someoneâs knocking at that door, he hesitated to check at first. It was nothing unusual really. But most often it was either kids playing or random people knocking by mistake, not knowing what this place was.
The knocking resonated again however, this time with a voice behind the door.
âPizza? Did Wong order a pizza without telling me again? Pfff.â
Stephen came over and opened the door. However, instead of a pizza guy, he saw a barefoot man with soaked clothes. He smelled like a sea food market and Stephen glanced up at the sky and then at the ground, to see if there were any signs of recent rain that would explain this.
He looked at the man with a perplexed look on his face.
âUhm, accidently lost the pizza in a river?â
âOh, âello! Dere yeh are, bout fokkinâ time aye,â Said John who wasnât known for his manners, really.
âAye well, sumfing like thaâ if it pleases yeh,â He grinned at Stephen then handed the man his worn boots with the damp socks stuffed inside and walked right through the doorway as if he owned the damned bloody place and Stephen was the butler.
âRite den,â John rubbed his hands together with glee in his eyes, chewing down on his cigarette as he looked around the foyer.
âWhereâs it? Dis way?â He pointed to the right, scratched his head then second-guessed himself, âMeeeh, thaâ way?â John pointed left now and turned to gauge Stephenâs reaction, then began swivelling his pointing finger left to right as he stared at the sorcerorâs face, as if it were a compass of sorts.
âSilly me, is actually upstairs now innit? Course is upstairs, such a daft sod I am, upstairs!âÂ
John didnât seem to think it necessary to introduce himself, to offer any context to whatever it was he was talking about -or doing-, nor did he find consent an obligatory thing.
âFokkinâ shite I bloody âate stairs. Why put stairs in anyfing at all, me poor lungs, Christ,â Fifteen steps up and John was already complaining, puffing smoke all the way for of course it was the architectâs fault and not his penchant for two-pack-a-day, oh no.
âCor is empty innere, Whereâs eâeryone, Aajhaâs nah till Monday now innit? Time fer spring cleaninâ more like, ehhhâŠspiritual cleansinâ?â John asked over his shoulder as he kept diligently up the stairs. Maybe someday heâll reach the end.
âOof, wee bit oâ âelp âere, mate? Blasted fing beâer be upstairs or Iâm climbinâ all dis fer nuhfing!â
Library, study, common rooms, ehhh, where would a sorceror keep their precious precious tomes?Â
John stopped suddenly mid-climb and turned to stare at Stephen.
âIs nah in yeh knickers now is it?â
