10382/Taking a look around

Taking a look around
Date of Scene:	04 December 2019
Location:	Sanctum Santorum - Base Floor
Synopsis:	Nick tours the Sanctum with Hogarth and manages not to touch anything destructive
Cast of Characters:	Phantasm (Drago), Hogarth Hart

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Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Considering the odd manner in which Nick has arrived to the Sanctum Santorum, the words Strange had with him and the invite to feel free to look around. Nick's curiousity is piqued. So look around Nick does. The musician takes his time, looking to the items in the glass case like one would touring a museum. Hands cupped behind him in acknowledgement of Hogarth's warning. The top hand is also serving duty as hat holder, allowing for Nick's long hair to go wild courteousy of hat frizz. There's a lot to see here, that's for sure. But as for figuring out why he came here, Who knows?

Hogarth Hart has posed:
     Hogarth went on with his normal studies. But he did finish it up quickly. His own interest piqued by the man who had the Sanctum opened to him.

  The somewhat plain looking staff was attached to his back, his robes still that deep blue, and a pair of boots, well worn with time. The brown haired man stepped silently, looking to the various objects on display, as he had done many a time before. Of course, he knew which ones were the more dangerous ones, and which ones posed little threat.

  Hogarth stopped at a quilted shawl, glittering with what looks like morning dew. "The cloak of the creeping death." He commented idly, looking at the case it hung in.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick blinks at the name, looking to the item Hogarth commented upon. "That seems a bit misnamed. Seems too small to be a cloak." No questioning the creeping death part of the name, "So, put that on, you're going to have a bad day, or the people around you are going to have one?"

Hogarth Hart has posed:
     "It was used by assassins in the eighth century. Allows the wearer to slip through planes of vision. Not really invisibility, more like a mirage."

  Hogarth turns to Nick. "Magical objects...usually have a certain level of sentience. This one was unhappy being used for murder. It wept, and with that weeping, it started to lose its ability." He comments, pointing out the dewy substance.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Ah." Nick frowns, looking to the droplets, "Poor little guy. Guess it was meant more to protect from threats." He looks over to Hogarth, "So, if the cloak has some sentience and it feels bad about what it was used for, and its losing its ability, why continue call it the Cloak of the Creeping Death instead of the Cloak that is Weeping Death?"

Hogarth Hart has posed:
     Hogarth gives a couple chuckles, showing off his chipped front tooth. "I call it Mel."

  Hogarth turns to the case and smiles, giving a little wave. "Hi Mel." To which the cloak gives a quick wave of one of its ends.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Mel." Nick repeats, looking back to the cloak. Frown fading as the cloak waves to Hogarth, "Good name." He gives a nod to the cloak before looking back over to Hogarth. "It's an interesting place. How long have you been here?"

Hogarth Hart has posed:
     "Four months. At the sanctum." Hogarth responds, keeping his smile.

  "I've been in the Order since I was nineteen though. Almost a Master now." His royal blue eyes quickly dart back to Nick before explaining further. "They found me after I fell climbing the mountains. Hurt pretty badly as someone teleported in."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"What's the Order?" Nick asks, stepping over to another case to look at it. "Did you learn to teleport too?"

Hogarth Hart has posed:
     "The Ancient Order, it's the school of magic that is headed by the Sorcerer Supreme." Hogarth has to remind himself not everyone knows what that is, or who Doctor Strange is for that matter.

  "Yes, yes I can." He answers, the mage resting his arms down to his hips.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick stares at Hogarth, smile dying as Hogarth's explanation...Six years of winging it. Six years of having to be careful of word choices. Six years of- "Wait. There's an actual school for this?" Holy mother of - There really is a Hogwarts.

Hogarth Hart has posed:
     "Yes-No!" Hogarth yells the no. Disturbing most of the artifacts in the room, and Mel's collar now watching them both.

  "I mean, okay. There is a place of learning. But it's a school like a school of fish. A group. We learn in different places, like the Sanctum. And it's not for kids, I mean..." Hogarth grumbles a bit at this. "There are kids, but it's few and far between. So, no, not a school. But people do learn, it's not some super secret thing. Those who can't use magic cannot really see magic."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Well, so much for Quidditch. "So it's more like, sattelite campuses." Nick amends with the new information, "Mostly Independent study but with advisors of sorts." He glances upwards to the general direction of the second floor, "Annnnd he's yours?"

Hogarth Hart has posed:
     "Doctor Strange?" Hogarth asks, looking up with Nick. "Ohhh, no. I mean, I'm the closest thing he has to an apprentice. But the things he does...are even bigger than the Avengers. He protects our reality. The very fabric of what we perceive as our universe. He has bigger things to do than teach. I do a lot of things that do not require him to have his hand in, but require the Order to have a stake in. Masters of the Order are the next highest. Like ugh. Cardinals." He rather disliked the comparison, but it did explain things better.

  "When you're a neophyte, you are in more structured classes, but as you progress, it's much more like grad school. Like you said, independent study."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick archs a brow at that, glancing back upwards, "Protects our reality... but can't get mold off a pipe.." He shakes his head. Before glancing to the items in the hallway. "So, based from my being here and having seen the incident in the subway involving Strange, you've already figured that I- ?" He grows quiet, silently mimicing a quasi 'surprise!' hand gesture.

Hogarth Hart has posed:
     "That you are magically inclined? I could sense it in you when you walked in, so did Doctor Strange." Hogarth points out. "When you showed up, we both felt your power." He holds up a hand. "Magic has a price to pay. And no one has paid more than the Sorcerer Supreme. He never eats, he can't." He offers, looking to his hand.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Huh. He never gave off that impression that he knew at the Whole Foods. But then again he was busy yelling at the mold that he was going to eat it so he might have been distracted." Nick frowns, follwing Hogarths' glance down to the other man's hand, "Any chance at times those prices are paid years in advance of the actual usage?"

Hogarth Hart has posed:
     Hogarth keeps looking at his hand, seeing the veins in it, imagining the pulsing of the blood through his veins. "Sometimes." He comments sullenly, as if both lamenting a past price paid and a price yet to be paid, all at once.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Hmm. Be kind of appopriate I guess. Not having a say in either and all." Nick looks at Hogarth's hand since it's being held up for inspection. "What are you looking at? Cut yourself?"

Hogarth Hart has posed:
     The older mage shakes himself out of the stupor. "Oh? No. Not...really. You ever see 127 hours? It almost happened to me...had I not been found."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick shakes his head, "No. I didn't really have cable til I was 21. And I've been working most of that time. But I'm guessing it's a hiking movie."

Hogarth Hart has posed:
     "A mountain climber gets his arm stuck against a boulder, and after 127 hours, has to amputate his arm in order to live." Hoagie explains, the pain in his voice is palpable.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Ah." Nick grimaces, "Yeah. That-" He pauses, trying to give a slightly reassuring smile, "But it didn't happen. You still have your arm."