7729/Freaky Frid - No, Wait, Monday

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Freaky Frid - No, Wait, Monday
Date of Scene: 04 June 2019
Location: Sanctum Santorum - Base Floor
Synopsis: It's Freaky Monday! Body swaps are the worst, but hey, at least it's not permanent!
Cast of Characters: Doctor Strange, Black Cat




Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen stands in the room with a single window open, the thin curtain wafting in the New York breeze that is thankfully coming off the park this late evening. It's roughly three am or so and the city is at it's zenith for peace. Which is still minor, but nothing like it is during the daylight hours. The wizard stands over an enchantment circle and frowns deeply, even going so far as to bite his bottom lip before he turns to look over his shoulder at Felicia's sleeping position where he left here hours ago.

    With a deep swallow Stephen turns around and has to reach out to catch his balance on the bedpost and close his eyes deeply at the unique sensations. Stepping towards Felicia he puts his hand on her shoulder, feeling the muscle beneath and pondering curiously before he shakes and lowers his mouth to her ear and whispers in a voice much higher than normal. "Felicia, it's time to wake up." As he disturbs her slumber.

Black Cat has posed:
The blonde burritoed away into the comfortable layerings of silk sheets and downy comforter makes a soft growling sound in the back of her throat. Still, hearing a familiar voice -- somewhat familiar? -- she lifts her head up with a small snort.

"What, what -- " Clearing her throat, she coughs once and frowns. "What in the seven hells, what -- " Sitting up abruptly, Felicia stares at Stephen. "Oh my gods."

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "There's more hells than just seven Felicia." Felicia's voice says to Felicia as those green eyes move into the moonlight and her mussed hair frames her dainty, rosey face. Stephen cants his head, and the hair falls in waves off his shoulders and he keeps his hand on Felicia's shoulder. "Breath. Felicia, breath. You're okay."

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia just continues to stare. "I'm dreaming," says Stephen's body before he looks down at himself. "This has to be a dream. Pinch me. No, wait, don't pinch me, CRAP." Holding up his hands, the Sorcerer stares at them before reaching over and digging his blunt nails into his own arm.

"OW!" Damaged nerves flare in his fingers at the unknowing torque of tendons and he grimaces, letting out a slow hiss. "Owwwwwwww....ow, ow, ow, OW. Okay - okay, okay, not dreaming, I'm not dreaming." Storm-grey eyes narrow at the woman who is somehow not her and still her and this has to be some magical issue.

"Copperfield, what did you do?!"

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen -Felicia's body- turns away from her and sits on the bed, looking away and down at her own hands. "Well... I was looking into what you said. That you're bad luck." Stephen says then lifts her arm to point at the end of the bed and then turns her head to look at Felicia's much more masculine face. "Turns out you weren't wrong." The thief says with a small smile before she openly tugs on her bottom lip.

Black Cat has posed:
The sharp inhale has Felicia -Stephen's body- grabbing up the covers and pulling them nearly to his collarbones. Wide-eyed, frightened, emotionally-bruised, the man then makes to disappear away beneath the bedding as fast as he can manage. It's difficult when one's six-foot two, but somehow, there's suddenly a large and lumping bundling in the middle of the bed.

"...told you so." Stephen's voice sounds abjectly miserable.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen reaches her hand out to pat her former body and lay her hand against it over the sheet. "Felicia..." Stephen says in her sweet and accidentally sultry voice. "What are you hiding from? I'm pretty sure we've both seen ourselves in mirrors, this is... barely... different." The thief says to the cowering wizard, green eyes looking away as if to check and make sure that the words were accurate in truth. "I don't know about me, but I know you don't have a WHOLE lot to do tomorrow morning other than save the universe some more."

Black Cat has posed:
Long limbs curled in and upon themselves don't extend in any manner. It's a surprisingly small ball of human when Felicia really puts her mind to disappearing from reality as much as she can manage. There's no sense of crying, more a fragile tension like a singing wire.

"I am not going out to save the universe tomorrow morning," says the Sorcerer pithily. "And this is too different, Copperfield! And you meddled! You meddled with me! I want back in my body!"

Suddenly appearing from beneath the covers in a whirl of fabric, a long and scarred finger points right at her own nose -- er, at Stephen's borrowed body's nose. "You fix this." The pert scowl normally affected on her own features doesn't translate too well on the Sorcerer. He instead looks thunderously unamused. "You fix this, buddy!"

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen's green eyes go crossed as she looks at the index finger inches away from her nose and the woman couldn't look more devilishly innocent. Pristine skin and only her alabaster hair keeping her modest, the woman looks down and ashamed, as though a puppy scolded. Her hands clutch onto the blanket she has sat upon and she starts to look away.

    "I tried to fix this... I can't." Stephen responds to his own stern face. Wow, is that how he looked when he spoke in those tones. No wonder he's so alone all the time. "The power to fix it remains in those hands Felicia." He says, holding up his own and reaching out for the wizard's hand to show concern and sorrow.

Black Cat has posed:
Stephen's body gapes at the news: only in those scarred hands. His regard drops to her hands and she wrinkles her nose again at seeing a chip in the manicure on her thumb -- have to get that fixed, tsk.

"Well -- " The Sorcerer splutters and then frowns at Felicia's body again. "Don't give me that look, that's MY look." It's a ridiculously petty thing to say and she apparently knows it because despite herself, Stephen's body lets out a laugh.

"You're telling me that...that I have to reverse this? But...but I don't know the words, Stephen!" the cat-burglar in borrowed body laments. Stephen's face now probably looks patently ridiculous with the subtle pout of lower lip.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "Well, since you don't know the words, guess we better learn how to live each others lives until you do... Stephen." Stephen says in that milky voice as she stands up from the bed and lifts one hand out and up with a large yawn taking over her functions. Her hand balls up in a fist and the other lifts up to cover her mouth in a show of politeness. "That's fine. I'll crawl back in bed, and wait until that dreadful sun rises again and we'll learn about our new lives then." She says with that Stephen trademarked shrug.

Black Cat has posed:
"No, you -- " Stephen's voice rises into a high growl of frustration. "That's not how this works! You're supposed to know! You're the Sorcerer Supreme! I can't -- I can't do magic! I'm a thief! I steal things, I don't -- I don't do twiddly-fingers of sparkly doom and -- "

Demonstrating an assumed lack of ability, Felicia gestures with those red-lined fingers at the nearby lamp sitting on the nightstand by the bed. It promptly turns into a sculpture made entirely out of cheese...and not even yellow cheese, but sharp cheddar that somehow had a love-child with bubble wrap and dipped itself in pink highlighter ink.

The cat-burglar stares, hand flopping limply down to the covers.

"...I don't know that I just did."

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "You converted my lamp into a sculpture of Heir Gramutte out of-" Stephen leans forward to reach out a manicured finger and scrapes the side and then takes a taste of the cheese. "Hmmm, Truiange cheddar." Stephen licks her lips a few times before looking back at Felicia and crossing her arms and stopping before sighing and trying it again lower on her torso. "I still know the words, but you have to do everything. EVERYTHING. I tell you." Stephen emphasizes.

Black Cat has posed:
"Scout's honor, I will do exactly as you say. No more random twinkly fingers." Stephen's body holds up the Boy Scout's three-fingered handsign and splays the other over his chest. He glances down and feels at his pectoral muscle. "...so flat," he murmurs thoughtfully. Storm-grey eyes flick up at the borrowed body of Felicia. "Don't...even think about it, Copperfield." Color touches at the severe cheekbones of the Sorcerer as he then swings his legs out over the side of the bed.

"Alright, I'll go find some of your clothes and WHOOAAAH!" Thank god for the nearby chair because he drastically understeps for the reach of longer legs and almost faceplants onto the bedroom carpet. Wincing, he straightens and lets out a broken whimper. "What the hell did you DO to yourself, Copperfield? I feel like I was hit by a bus...!"

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "I told you, magic requires sacrifices, and there are people out there who can't help themselves." Stephen says frowning towards her former body as she turns and steps up to help Felicia figure out how to live with a few extra inches in her height. "Just take smaller steps until you figure it out. Like wearing heels, permenantly." Stephen says, reaching up to brush her thumb against Felicia's goatee and get some drool crust out of the corner of his mouth.

    "Get me something too, this is awfully distracting and inticing." Stephen says, hoping Felicia will catch on and understand.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia in Stephen's body allows the first swipe of thumb at the facial hair, and the second, but by the third, she's scowling again. Leaning out of reach of the manicured touch -- an easy feat at this height -- she grumbles something under her breath before the Sorcerer's body attempts to make it over to the nearby closet. She does well piloting it...mostly. Her shoulder bounces off the lintel of the step-in closet's door and she groans again.

"Try dodging next time, Copperfield," she grouses as to aiding folks in need. It's only a minute and Stephen's body returns draped in an ankle-length bathrobe. He's got another spare over his arm and this he flings towards Felicia's body. "It's going to be huge on me, but it'll be warm." It's a fling almost over her head, misjudged with the extension of arm.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Stephen has to jump to grab the bathrobe, but with arm extended and calfs way stronger than his normal once, Stephen's much higher than anticipated and frowns when she lands back on the ground and has to close her eyes for a time to settle herself. "How do you make it through each day?" Stephen asks with Felicia's mouth as she slips on the robe and moves to grab Stephen's arm and pull him over to the edge of the bed "To return us, you just have to cast the same spell I did."

    "Hold your hands out like this, and then this and then this. Then this last one, and say these words." Stephen shows Felicia a set of hand positions that are not overly complex but unusual before going onto the words needed to be spoken. "fortuna delere execratione maledicta congessit." She smiles up at her old form. "Easy enough."

Black Cat has posed:
Earnestly attentive in Stephen's guise, it might give the appearance of the dignified Sorcerer having regressed back to apprenticeship in Kamar-Taj all of those years back. Felicia listens, nods her head a few times, and holds up her hands without mimicking the exact gestures.

"Here, let me -- I'll go over here just in case something goes hinky." Carefully walking around the bed, and thankfully not stubbing toes rounding the end post, she walks his body over to the open space in the bedroom. "And I make it through each day just fine, Copperfield," the thief shoots back, curling Stephen's lips as if she were to be just as seductive as in her usual guise. Then, licking lips, she plants his feet.

"So..." Deep inhale, slow exhale. Scarred, knowing hands rise and begin the series of gestures. "Fortuna delere execratione maledicta congessit."

As Stephen's voice says the last of the words, he can be seen to wince as if preparing for something to detonate.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    Bodies change places as minds stay where they were. It's instantly the effects of the spell and Stephen then reaches a bare toe out to scuff the chalk on the floor and then looks back to Felicia. "Oh, can we change back. I haven't had a cheeseburger in ten years." The wizard pouts playfully before holding his hands out for Felicia to jump into his arms for a deep embrace. "You did it!"

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia jitters in place and blinks, looking momentarily dizzy. She then pats at her face, at her chest, at her hips, even at her own butt. "Ah-hah...hah!" Looking back at Stephen again, she grins a fierce little sliver of a smile and launches herself at him. The bound is lithe and followed by the flutter of the over-sized bathrobe as she then arcs down into his arms.

"I did!" He gets a firm squeeze about his ribs and then the thief looks him dead in the face. "NEVER AGAIN." This is said very firmly and with a hard green glitter of her beautiful eyes.

Doctor Strange has posed:
    "Never again." Stephen repeats though his cadence could be a question or a disappointment or simple agreement. It's hard to tell at three am when he's been up trying to find a way to help relieve his lover of some of the greatest stress of her life without her finding out. "Never again." he repeats sounding much more agreeable than the first time. "Come, it's a horrible hour, lets go back to bed." He says before dropping the robe on the floor at the footboard of the enormous bed.

Black Cat has posed:
Appeased for now, Felicia lets her cheek drop against the warm strength of his chest. She lingers there, appreciating the masculine aspect of him and very, very relieved to be back into her own body. Everything's so familiar, so known down to the idle twitch of an isolated muscle.

"Mmm...sure, back to bed. I want to sleep for at least five more hours," she murmurs, pulling away from him. She too sheds her bathrobe and slithers underneath the covers once more. Punching a pillow a few times, she gathers it up beneath her head and then plops down fully. A huge sigh blown fluffs up a few strands of platinum-blonde hair.

"...magic is nuts," she mutters, still smiling despite herself.