[ A hiss as space is zipped open like the door of a tent. The resulting ring of sparks gives way to one Stephen Strange a second after, dressed shirt-and-pants casual like he could've come from anywhere. Central City street. Red Wings backroom.
The library wall through the portal gives away the truth of it. Stephen doesn't move much further than the steps that take him out of his home and into Damian's space - watching him in cautious quiet, there's a world-away recollection of standing in his kitchen after being brought back to life, waiting for whatever reaction he'd earned.
In the absence of any recent avoidable death by homicide, he has the freedom this time to at least look sheepish. ]
no subject
The library wall through the portal gives away the truth of it. Stephen doesn't move much further than the steps that take him out of his home and into Damian's space - watching him in cautious quiet, there's a world-away recollection of standing in his kitchen after being brought back to life, waiting for whatever reaction he'd earned.
In the absence of any recent avoidable death by homicide, he has the freedom this time to at least look sheepish. ]