<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn04.cdn.justjared.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/redmayne-evans/eddie-redmayne-luke-evans-british-film-awards-2013-11.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Stephen Strange<br/><strong>Alias:</strong>Doctor Strange (after graduation)<br/><strong>Dorm Assignment:</strong>3rd floor, room 3<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Auditorium<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>September 2, early evening<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Slacks, light jacket, tie, collared shirt<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Mantis, Jean, Arthur, others at their table<br/><br/>Mantis' words, while he partly dismissed them, did contain nuggets of useful information that Stephen planned to put to use later on. He had never been a believer in anything supernatural; sure, things like the alien Chitauri were extraterrestrial but at least they weren't beyond the scope of empirical investigation; same thing with Asgard and Thor, anything they had which looked like magic must surely have an explanation that science would one day account for. But then this whole bizarre mess that he could hardly wrap his mind around got stuck in his head and he sincerely doubted it would ever merit a scientific explanation. These mystical entities that truly did exist in a plane beyond reach (he hated the notion that it was supposed to be something like 'heaven' having become resentful of his conservative family's religious views) were a true enigma and would stay that way for...well, probably forever.<br/><br/>The idea of searching for things in relation to his dreams and, as Mantis mentioned, Tibet, did present some possibilities. He wasn't sure where exactly to research mythology on his dreams' contents but at least this may have been a lead. Scattered, sporadic words like 'Vishanti' and 'Agamotto' which he wasn't even sure how to spell or if he'd heard them correctly were getting him nowhere on Google. Hell, the last time he'd typed in 'Vishanti' he got linked to an Indian woman's private pornographic exhibition website. The more information he could get on the subjects, the better off he'd be in finding answers in the midst of his training. From what he gathered, while he would be gifted with enchantments from various entities, he could also learn spells independently and anyone with a legitimate claim to tapping into those mystic forces would be a great way to add to his repertoire. If he played his cards right, he could potentially take an entirely different approach to medicine and use life-force chi or something like that to help heal injuries. Maybe even to resurrect souls from the underworld...<br/><br/>But he was shaken from these thoughts by Arthur's sudden display.<em>Fuck me,</em>he thought,<em>that pompous little twat has a goddamned magic gauntlet!</em>Stephen had remembered seeing glimpses of other relics with these kinds of enchantments, one of which he made it his mission to find: A glorious cape that would allow its wearer to levitate and even fly like Thor or Iron Man. Adding that to what he could do now and it wouldn't be long before he would be an ideal recruit for the Avengers. Of course that cape was probably buried in the deepest, coldest mountains on Earth, or maybe at the bottom of the deepest sea trench. Something that valuable couldn't be easy to find, even for a powerful...he hadn't wanted to say it yet, but it was something he was destined to become, a sorcerer. It just sounded silly in this day and age, but then again, a 'magician' didn't send the right message.<br/><br/>He was also upset to find that the life in Jean's expression had suddenly turned dour. The first person he'd met here before while he was doing his online research and he'd managed to scare her. Tuh-riffic. "I honestly don't know." he shook his head when questioned about the nature of his powers. "They have a purpose, supposedly, which is apparently for eradicating evil. But I don't know the true nature of the source; I've only seen silhouettes, but they're enormous and seriously creepy. According to my research so far, good and evil are constantly at odds, and for every being of good, there should logically be an equivalent being of evil. For all I know, right now, somewhere out there, the bad guys are training up a wicked witch or something that I'll have to confront." he avoided making eye contact because he just imagined Jean with the visage of the green-skinned hag from the Wizard of Oz. "A mirror image of me, different in every way, wanting me dead." he mused, looking at his reflection in the tabletop. He looked up and at each person at the table. "Imagine it: a dark doppelganger, one for each of us, waiting for the time we're fated to meet in battle." He wanted to know what each person would react like. Fearful? Excited? Indifferent. He even tried to predict who would have which reaction.