Strange is about to blather something about drink orders and convenience, but then his attention is caught quickly enough by something more interesting at hand: his gaze follows hers, towards the bar, the rows on rows of exotic liquor bottles, the mildly psychic bartender, the clusters of witches and warlocks and magicians and aliens bending their heads in conversation. That thoughtful expression on her face at the sight of it all.
"I was hoping it might be," he says. "There are heaps of people with different kinds of magic here, so it all seemed relevant to your interests. The Asgardian witches don't have your exact capabilities, but they can tap into people's minds, so they're probably worth a conversation at some point, too. The more knowledge and the more frames of reference you have, the better."
Sometimes, he still sounds an awful lot like a doctor, despite the fact that he left medicine far behind. You can whisk the man away from science but you can't take the science out of the man, apparently.
And, apparently, he's still not too interested in being delicate. He chews over it for a moment, before he finds himself blurting out: "What's it like? The telepathy."
no subject
"I was hoping it might be," he says. "There are heaps of people with different kinds of magic here, so it all seemed relevant to your interests. The Asgardian witches don't have your exact capabilities, but they can tap into people's minds, so they're probably worth a conversation at some point, too. The more knowledge and the more frames of reference you have, the better."
Sometimes, he still sounds an awful lot like a doctor, despite the fact that he left medicine far behind. You can whisk the man away from science but you can't take the science out of the man, apparently.
And, apparently, he's still not too interested in being delicate. He chews over it for a moment, before he finds himself blurting out: "What's it like? The telepathy."