1965-02-24 - A place without doors is not without answers.
Summary: Jenni stumbles into the Bar With No Doors. Doctor Strange happens to be there, and Jenni learns a little about herself in the process.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
jenni strange 


The Bar with No Doors isn't terribly busy today. It could mean that the metaphysical worlds are momentarily at peace, passing in some odd alignment to absence of trouble — either that, or the bad guys are cooling their heels and planning their next attempts at causing various types of disaster. Nothing like a plague from a reality sidereal to get one's blood pressure up.

'Cozy' could be a term applied to the Mystical watering hole, if one considers the weirdly-harmonious decor: shadowy corner tables contrast with brightly-lit booths and the Tiki masks on the walls both smile and frown at the quirks of both Victorian and Nouveau accents in the architecture and walls. The drinks? Anything your heart desires and anything your imagination can spin up because the bartender, a serious gentleman in a jar, can concoct the wildest dreams into sippable triumphs. The one delivering drinks appears Meso-American by facial structure, save for those small scales all over his body; someone probably has iguana back in his gene pool. He speaks little, but is timely with delivering both orders and the drinks themselves.

Strange, in the storm-blue tunic and battle-leather of his Master status, is in his usual spot, sipping at a drink that steams in confusing curls of pale orange, almost peachy in stark color opposition to the lavender-hued liquor. It sparkles faintly too, as if dusted with mica. He's got what appears to be a perfectly average tri-folded letter in one hand and he's scowling up a storm at it. A bill? Maybe, but likely not of this reality. Perhaps someone has a score to settle from beyond?


A door- or portal- Or maybe just falling through the ceiling. Jenni appears, stumbling as she blinks and finds herself somewhere else. "….Hello." says the green woman, as she looks around. She's not so much afraid, as she is intensely curious- "Okay. So, how did I get here? And.. since this looks like a bar, is there Rye whiskey?"


The atmosphere of the Bar trembles, as it does with nearly all arrivals. Only a select few have mastered the art of subtly showing and they are usually creatures from beyond reckoning and this reality proper. Other groupings of practitioners look over and eye the new arrival before going back to their conversations. Strange glances up from reading his letter and the lift of his face is proof of shifting attention to Jenni now. His is a rather sharp focus, perfectly in line with angled cheekbones and aloof air.

"You arrived via some form of magic, I assume." His tone has the touch of a instructor. "No one Mundane can breach the wards without invitation first. Rye whiskey is one of the more simple orders, yes," and he points towards the bar itself with one scarred finger extended from about his mug of steaming drink; "The bartender may have a suggestion for you if you'd like something beyond the normal."


"Well, beyond the normal- what.. like alcoholic wheatgrass with lemon or something?" Jenni wonders as she approaches Strange with a friendly smile. "I'm Jenni." she offers, "Mind if I join you?" she wonders, "Maybe you can tell me about the beyond the normal stuff- all of that seems pretty interesting. And, as far as I'm aware, I don't know magic… but, I guess that explains the whole turning green thing and making green light construct things."


Musings and measurements flicker behind his half-lidded eyes and then he comes to a decision, given the deeper sip of his drink. The letter is carefully folded up and set upon the open envelope.

"You can join me, if you wish. Put in your order at the bar and then return. A discussion in regards to magic may take some time."


"Oh, gladly!" Jenni says with a smile as she looks over to the bar- heads over, "So, yeah- something out of the ordinary. Like beginner level out of the ordinary." Jenni says, before she goes to join Strange at his table. "So, as I was saying, I'm Jenni- really spiffed to meet you." she says with a bright smile, "So- where am I, exactly? I got here by magic- which I apparently, have control over."


The bartender is quick to create the order and even as she's returning to the booth, the scaled server arrives to place the highball glass of rye whiskey on a small white square of napkin upon his rounded tray.

"My lady," he says as he delivers the drink. "For you, sir?"

"I'm content, thank you. On my tab," Strange adds, and the server nods before walking off to do another set of rounds throughout the Bar. The rye whiskey drink isn't the usual golden color; instead, more red by hue and a slow swirl of darker substance is rotating within it. It'll make the drink more sour and simultaneously bubbly, as if someone managed to enact baking soda meeting vinegar by sensation alone.

"Jenni." The Sorcerer eyes her. "Nice to meet you as well. I am Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme of Earth's reality." He leans against the booth's pillowed back, hands wrapped about the warmed clay mug that rests on the table. "You are at the Bar with No Doors. Neutral ground where any Mystical sort can appreciate a drink, discuss interdimensional politics, sign a treaty — all without the risk of bloodshed. You can say what you wish, but there is no fighting here whatsoever. I enforce this with no exceptions." Figures he'd sit where he is anyways; it affords him a clear view of the entire Bar, given the booth also sits on a rise of wooden platform. "And one is only able to arrive here via magic or by invitation from another practitioner of the Arts. You are new to the Arts then…?"


"Uh, yeah." Jenni says, nodding and listening closely. "I guess that makes sense- nice to meet you, Doctor Strange." Jenni offers, "And yeah, I guess I am." she continues, "So, like- yeah. Pretty new- just sort of happened. See, I was at this party at school, got really drunk. A little high- stumbling home with this guy and he gets a little fresh. So, then, all at once- Boom! Green fire , a huge fist, I knock him into next week. It all came from my hand." She offers out her left hand- a starburst pattern there. "From my birthmark."


"Interesting," Strange opines quietly as he examines the rayed marking on her hand from where he sits, keeping his own scar-mapped palms about his mug. "That does happen from time to time, the sudden showing of a birthmark or tattoo in correlation with the appearance of Mystical powers. At least it's aesthetically pleasing." A bit of dry humor there.

"Magic can take many different forms. If you're asking me to suss out precisely what you can do, I cannot do it without a potentially painful handshake." A candleflame's worth of frosted-violet light appears around his pupils as he narrows his eyes. It gives him a somnolent air, the same laze a panther on a limb might display. "Be ready if you choose to take my hand," he murmurs, offering out a scarred palm to her.


Jenni doesn't hesitate- knowledge about what's happened to her. What's been happening to her. Pain, it seems, is nothing this particular young woman is afraid of- not if it means an answer to a question that has been gnawing on her mind.

She takes Strange's hand.

A flash. From that left hand, a direct connection to the Starheart- an artifact of vast magical power. An ancient thing, old and venerable- powerful. Connected to all things growing, a green and radiant thing. Jenni's connection is innate, natural- her soul connected directly to this font of power. For now, the connection isn't at its peak- Jenni has much growing to do to realize the whole of her potential.

And for her? Pain. Like an electric shock. Her eyes widen, her body stiffens. Her hand squeezes tighter. Answers are what she wants. She fights through the pain.


The very second the two palms collide, fingers aligned to grip, the feedback loop clicks into being.

To Jenni, it is pain — a vibrant and lively pain that tingles like the minute crawling of the skin before a lightning strike. A corona of brilliance in citrine and then eternal amaranthine, scarlet and skyvault-blue blended together flawlessly. The taste of ozone and petrichor, the soothing warmth of Spring's first sunny day to melt the cold of winter — and then the vastness of impossible distance refracted again and again and again, reflections upon reflections, his form and aura in every possible spectra of light and Mystical power.

It all goes down in the eternal splitting of a second, on-going in intensity and then very abruptly stopped as Strange pulls his hand away, flexing his fingers. "My apologies if that stung," he says, cheekbones high in a brief gritting of teeth. He does hate to cause pain. "Your abilities apparently stem from a relic, one that I recognize from ancient manuscripts of another era. I would be wary of expending yourself if you choose to use your powers; you may draw directly upon your own life force enacting them."


Jenni is gasping for breath by the time the hand is pulled away. "Oh.. Jeeze.." she groans softly, "Oh man." She puts her forehead against the table with a groan. "That hurt. Oh..wow.." She takes a slow breath, "I don't feel tired, really, when I use them- I mean, emotionally drained…"


Strange nods, his lips pulled thin for a moment. "I did forewarn you, but again, my apologies. You may feel…more transparent rather than physically drained after using your powers, but then again…you are still learning of your own capabilities, it appears." He takes a heavy swig of his drink and empties the mug. A hiss between bared teeth afterwards speaks to the drink itself having a kick to it — oof.

Clearing his throat, the Sorcerer sets the mug aside and gathers up the letter. "If I may recommend practicing somewhere out of sight of the general public, that would be best. I don't want to have to avert a witch-hunt simply because someone doesn't understand the concept of pyromancy beyond scratching a match to a boc," he says as he places the tri-folded paper back into the envlope and seals it once more. "And, if you'll excuse me, I have dinner plans with my fiance. Another time, Miss Jenni?"


"Oh, congrats!" Jenni says, a genuine smile there through whatever lingering pain she's got. "I hope its an excellent dinner!" She says next, standing up and smiling, "It has been a pleasure to meet you. If you ever need some pictures taken or something, let me know." she offers, "Really great to meet you!" She says again- about to offer her hand to shake, but thinking better of it. She just wiggles her fingers. "See you around! Enjoy your meal!"


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