3886/Rising Tide: Neighbourhood Watch

Rising Tide: Neighbourhood Watch
Date of Scene:	16 February 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Elektra, Doctor Strange
Tinyplot:	Rising Tide

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Elektra has posed:
While Elektra had been in New York for some time now, she'd bided her time in settling in and making her presence known to a select few. One by one, now, though, she was sending out feelers to say 'hello' - much as someone in her position said hello - and settle potential turf wars before they happened, thus avoiding the nasty escalation such things almost always brought with them. That, and it always paid to know your neighbours. Who you could borrow a cup of milk from, or a cup of sugar; who wouldn't pay back that ten bucks; which one threw the best parties...

She and Strange had been long overdue for a meeting. But after her little stalemate with Matt Murdoch, and further, her discussion with one Genus of Rising Tide, Elektra felt it was time.

She'd sent out word on the street. A time. A vagueness of place. Really, the rest would be up to him to find her. She'd be there, waiting. Not quite a cat and mouse game, but really, in their circles, one never really just said Starbucks on Fifth for coffee.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    The rooftop is completely deserted, as rooftops tend to be at the later true-er witching hour. It's three am, or more specifically, seven after three am. And I have no idea how patient Elektra is, but Strange is rumored to have been quite punctual. It was always something he prided himself on.

    Seven minutes after three, that's when all hell breaks loose. Or more correctly a part of hell breaks open and there's a hole in reality not more than five feet from Elektra's head a fist punches through the air and covered in purple ecto-plasma. The hand reaches out for something to grab onto but it can't find anything but open air as it drips thick globs of what looks like purple mucas mixed with spit like stuff. It's disgusting and frankly, it smells like death.

Elektra has posed:
While patience isn't normally a virtue that Elektra extols with regards to certain matters, in others, she's the dictionary definition of the thing. She may want what she wants when she wants it, but you also don't get to be a master assassin with the number of kills under your belt that she has by being hasty. Three a.m. comes. Goes. Leaves its little friends the minutes behind, and strikes that seven minutes after, all with her calmly a perch in the shadows upon that rooftop.

Dawn won't be trolling for some time now, and while she may have better things to do, this is also necessary. She can wait.

When her wait is punctuated by that rend in reality, she's not as much prepared for it, as she's come to learn to expect the unexpected and to react accordingly: which is to say, not react at all; or, rather, school her reactions to only those she wishes to give.

Hand. Globules of spittle and ectoplasmic matter (by the looks of it). Reek of death. None of that rattles her, though she does step aside, taking a new position where she can regard this happening more closely.

She suspects her calling card has been answered, but on the off chance this is some other fresh hell, she's prepared.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    The caucasian hand squirms and flails as if from the elbow but the elbow is in another dimension entirely. Then a finger followed by another one digs into reality near the meat of the lower arm and starts to pull the entire second hand through the hole in space time.

    Eventually what looks like a mouth is pressed near enough to the opening that the man's words can be heard.

    "HELP ME DAMN IT!" Cries a man's voice who sounds tortured and severely tired.

Elektra has posed:
Well, then. /That/ was certainly unexpected. And enough to have Elektra moving smoothly to.. well, lend a Hand so to speak, if one might pardon the pun..

A grasping hand is grabbed and pulled at while she reaches for the other to do the same. Really, it's not quite unlike some odd birthing ritual, complete with fluid mess and tortured cries. Even the exhaustion fits the profile.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    After a few tugs, there's a large patch of black hair pressing against the portculis in the fabric of space time. Then another tug and Strange's face is plucked from the nothingness. He gasps deeply and fully of the nitrogen rich air of Earth.

    "Home." The half birthed man says as he pulls on Elektra's hand and grimaces as his shoulders and everything else yank him through the hole. The man's black garbs are soaked in demon gunk and helish slop from the travel between dimensions. "I- I'm almost out." He says to Elektra.

Elektra has posed:
"You realize," Elektra complains mildly as she continues to help Strange emerge from whatever (wherever? whenever??) he's managed to ensconce himself in, "That I've avoided this entire childbirthing thing for a reason?"

Still, she's not shying away from the gunk and goo, regardles of the putrid stench. Though they both will rather be discoverable by scent alone for a time. Lemons, she thinks. I need lemons..

Once he's out, she stands back enough to regard him with something caught between disdain and disgust. He's a rather revolting picture at the moment, after all. Her hands come together in a soft, slurp of an echo of a clap, her voice dry and nearly bored, "You lose points for execution. But the creativity isn't lacking."

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "As a doctor, I can promise you that..." Strange pauses to look at himself and how his waist disappears into a purple goop that's coming from nothing. "I stand corrected. Other than my age, this is remarkably close to birth." The doctor says with a soft chuckle before a strong grimace washes over his face. He pulls further against Elektra, his legs finally slipping free and he collapses onto the rooftop with a heavy plop and a yelp.

    "Thank you for your help... Uhhh... what's your name?" Strange asks, having NOT gotten her message obviously.

Elektra has posed:
There's a slight cant of head from the woman as she hunkers down beside the man now, ascertaining if he's okay. "Well, as we're both speaking on a theoretical basis.." Only she's given pause by the admission that he's no clue who she is. "Who am I. I see."

"We'll start with Elektra, and move on from there when necessary. I had thought you'd shown up in response to my message. How wrong of me. As for you, you are still Doctor Strange, I presume, or have I the honour of naming you something entirely different now that I've been your birthwife?"

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "I am and always shall be Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme. Though this is the first I've heard of such a message of someone needing to speak with me, yet that is how magic often is. It tends to take me exactly where I need to be." The man says as he slowly climbs up to his feet and pats his thighs with a couple of wet slaps that don't really do anything but proclaim how filthy he truely is.

    "Elektra you said. I've heard a few things about you in my travels... I assume you need help if you're sending me messages, but I will tell you know, there will be no killing involved if you require my assistance." The doctor says letting her know up front that yes he has heard of her and believes that's what she does best is what he refuses to ever do.

Elektra has posed:
There's a tired roll of eyes from the woman as she stands again, and leaves him to righting himself up off of the ground. "Spare me the morality lecture. I've had it already once this week. By a much better study of the speech as it happens. And, no. I haven't called upon you to ask your help. At least not directly. I thought perhaps we should have a small talk seeing as I've decided to relocate to the area."

She smiles, something of a chill thing, only there's no actual meeting of the expression in her eyes. They're merely a flat regard of him. "As you say, I'd like to avoid as much killing as I can where this is concerned. No. This is something of a courtesy call. And an opportunity to chat. You're aware of what's been going on here?" What does she know of where he's been or how long. For all she knows, he's been bathing in his self-emposed sensory deprivation dimension for weeks.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "Sorry, I've been a bit busy of late being inside of a demon inside of a demonic dimension, so the current hot topics of this week are completely out of my mental grasp. Would you care to fill me in?" The doctor asks non-chalantly. She can be stoic, he can be stoic, there's no rules saying there can't be TWO stoic people in the same coversation on a barren rooftop before the dawn breaks.

    Stephen does remain standing where he landed and is holding his arms out with his feet spread wide so that the gunk can fall off his wizard attire and land onto the rooftop in intermitant thunks and plops. "I'm not going to lecture you, I was just preempting any plans you might have hoped to include me in."

Elektra has posed:
There's that bored expression again. "Really. Much as your talents can be touted, my dear Doctor, you aren't my first choice for killing companions, sorry to say. But clearly you don't need my regard in that matter."

A brow is arched delicately as she watches him; his stance; how the goop slips off him in lazy chunks and puddles.

"Well, while you've been gone, The Rising Tide decided to remove modern society from the convenience of modern communications. All the arrays have been down until a day or so ago. If you can call what's been cobbled together anything of an internet. You'd be surprised on what relies on satellites actually speaking to the devices they're supposed to speak to. Though by your words I'm going to guess you didn't miss them doxxing any number of mutants and other various persons of interest?"

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen looks down from his puddles of goop and even now the ectoplasmic discharges are beginning to evaportate rapidly into puffs of steam and smoke to be whisked away by the winds. "I did miss that whilest I was being trapped and away in another dimension. Care to fill me in further?"

    "Who is this Rising Tide and what are their goals, as well as their means of attack and influence?" The doctor inquires, Stephen looking rather pertrubed by this news and yet Elektra will likely get the sense that as much as he'd like to do something, he doesn't seem like he'll actually be able to help in this instance.

Elektra has posed:
"The Rising Tide? Beyond being annoying, they were just a hacktivist group. Decently placed, I suppose, but by no means a household name." Those days are gone now. "As to goals, I don't know what they are. They'be been singularly silent since the cobbled together internet went into place. As for means, they're computer geeks by all estimations. Though they've seemingly come under new leadership."

Whether or not he can help really is a matter of perspective. "I'm wondering, do you see have ears to the ground in any capacity? There are things I can't actually do myself, and because of other obligations, well, it wouldn't be prudent to be seen as the face behind such things, but I've got an in in the organization now." That, and she has a full copy of the Index Files that the Rising Tide released. Including bits and bobs that weren't put out on the net during the doxxing phase.

"I still have friends in places that I'd prefer not to see harmed, Stephen. I'm not entirely heartless and cruel."

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "I'm not really a 'friends in low places' kind of guy Elektra." Stephen nods with an odd sort of shrug then he looks back up in her direction. "Let me talk with a few of the less busy wizards and witches I know. Most of them tend to be a lot more ground level type of focus than I can be." The Sorcerer Supreme says softly followed quickly by, "Is there anything else I can do for you?" The wizard asks trying to be polite in his own way.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra thinks, or makes it look like she's thinking for some small, few moments. "No, not really. Just something to be aware of. That they've put a number of people at risk. Hello, I've moved into the neighbourhood and set up shop.. and oh, yes. I was thinking somewhat of a small, little invitation only tournament of sorts. Word says you're a person who might be interested should that come to pass. Something of a weekend getaway for those who might like to display their martial prowess outside the confines of whose team we play upon."

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen lifts his eyebrow at her invitation and does a poor job of concealing his grin. "Such an excuse to practice my martial arts abilities could be a welcome distraction to being sucked into entirely new and horrifying dimensions. At least for a weekend." Stephen says with a playful sort of wink.

    "Welcome to the neighborhood, I will do my best to stay out of your way, as long as people don't start ending up dead. Kapeesh?" What is he some sort of 1920's gangster?

Elektra has posed:
The woman inclines her head to him. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that. I happen to have the means to make it happen, but I may need some few to help get the word around. Might I count on you for that?"

The rest merely makes Elektra chuckle, the sound soft and rich, carrying only between the two. "Stephen, you wound me. I'm hardly one for indiscriminate killings. But some for proprieties sake and to make a point, surely you understand. However, you have my word that I'll keep my people aware of the fact that they should be circumspect. No parties or loud music after 11, that sort of thing. At least not without prior notice."

Is she mocking him?

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "I would say you could count on me, but I tend to keep strange company in strangeer places." The wizard notes before he turns a sour eye to her this time. "If I wounded you with my dismissable words, then you are no the threat so many speak highly of." Stephen notes with a less hidden smirk.

    "It's been a pleasure meeting you Elektra, do take care." And with that the sorcerer steps towards the lip of the rooftop and walks across the open air as if there was a sidewalk beneath him and he slips his hands into his pockets with a whistle from his lips of a morose tone.

Elektra has posed:
"Touche," Elektra murmurs to his comeback about his wounding her with some amusement. Again, the gesture does not reach her eyes. Not fully.

"Strange company. Stranger places. All I need are mouths to disseminate the information. You'll be hearing from me, I've no doubt."

And much like himself, she's no longer for this conversation, slipping away into shadows and disappearing they way only a ninja can.