Warning(s]: Fight scene
Malevolence. It roiled with a stormy surrender, bringing with it the whippets of a forlorn and lost desire for her. Taken. The night had been bursting with a warmth he hadn't felt in what felt like eons, holding the woman brighter than stars, more radiant than holiness, more precious than any he'd held to his eviscerated heart. The only one remembered in the toil and tumult of a transformation that left him aghast with bereaved and winsome lost, a venomous pith in the blackened rind of his heart. Without. Without. In this deep and disturbed slumber, the Alizarine King knew this wouldn't last. For Clea had gone, had disappeared from his sight and eye, without a trace. As though what had transpired had been naught but a dream. Yet, the monster was sick with desire, it rocketing so hotly in him that it felt as though a great plague were upon him.
Coiling extrusions loosed and his cocoon of absolute defense bloomed to allow him to descend with slowness to the barren, chilled ground below damp with refuse and rot from the meal made the night before. And his mind was thickly clouded with her scent, with the sensation of porcelain flesh and pale hair and her ethereal warmth, knowing this it had been no dream, no mystical and heartbroken wanting. He growled temperamentally, unease drawling the craven sound as claws gouged into the concrete of the corridor, blinking sleep from the igneous orbs of his eyes.
Someone was coming. Stephen bristled and his spine arched and straightened, protruding vertebrae waning a faint luminescence with a sort of display of warning aggression, his power culminating with jaws slowly unhinging and displaying more of the florescence that ought frighten away the lesser. A voice railed in his mind, Stephen hunkering down as the Great Ones relayed commands to him, a simple word translating in a former tongue:
ＤＥＳＴＲＯＹ
Stephen recoiled in agony from it, shrinking so small into himself that was almost too much for a body that could still only be contorted so far. His masters. They spoke, knew he was prisoner. And this couldn't be, for he needed freedom to achieve their aims. His mouth gaped blankly for several moments, akin to a fish stagnant in the water and gasping for breath. Destroy–they were keeping her from him…they were keeping his BELOVED from him! Malice overtook him now, the light from within bursting from its timidity as it seared rage-hot in him, almost igniting his body white in its heat.
"Whoa, big guy, just–stay right there, buddy."
Stephen snarled menacingly at the voice, dragging talons through the steel to utter a hoarse, withering screech as he neared, seeing a hovering metal suit coil into itself for a moment. Stark himself was on the scene, Stephen observed with fiendish delight, even if this wasn't voiced in the host of his mind. For he was forgetting language far too quickly, except in the excruciating moments when he spoke to her. To his beloved for whom was the only one worth clinging to his scarce remnants of humanity for.
Iron Man finally recovered, the trail of his traipse rocketing past as wind gusted past Stephen in the wake of his passage, mere outlines of his eyes and the heat of his rockets indicating the billionaire's presence. Stephen came with monstrous instinct, a ray beam of raw power incinerating the air, Iron Man just barely dodging it.
"What the hell–"
A new orifice opened, glowing at its rim where the blast had struck, Stephen tensing and bristling intensely, and in Tony's mistaken fixation, one of Stephen's larger appendages struck out and pummeled Iron Man down, Stephen clumsily galloping over in the mess of tentacles and arms, seizing Iron Man immediately and savagely biting into his torso, the audible crunch of creaking and collapsing metal sounding alarms as JARVIS rallied Tony from his stupor. Talons screeched as they tore through, pulverizing remnants as the former Sorcerer Supreme went at him like a beast to raw meat.
"ᗰY ᗩᑭOᒪOGIEᔕ, ᔕIᖇ, ᗷᑌT I ᗰᑌᔕT TᗩKE ᑕOᑎTᖇOᒪ ᖴOᖇ ᗩ ᗰOᗰEᑎT."
JARVIS' voice sounded in clear tenor, Stephen pausing for a moment, genuinely mystified at the disembodied voice before a hand cannon was invoked and fired point blank in Stephen's face. The monster reeled back with an inhuman roar, bellowing painfully as Iron Man was finally allowed the slip, likely burning Stephen as he propelled violently from the vice. Coarse hide was scorched, singing flesh burning Stephen's nostrils before he recovered, wheeling chaotically about before he halted fiercely upon sighting Iron Man and raising his hackles and intending for offense once more.
"Alright, subdue, don't kill; subdue, don't kill–remind me again why we need to save this thing? This isn't Stephen Strange. Just, vaguely looks like him. Even so, his beard isn't as nice as mine–"
Tony's static prattling as cut short as Stephen bolted himself the ceiling in an inhuman rush, guising his own body temperature, impairing Iron Man's sensors and preventing him from detection. The darkness occluded him from being found all the more, but unfortunately for Stephen, Tony wasn't exactly alone. He'd be finished if he had been, after all.
The battle cry of a certain Norse god rang out in fierce clarity, lightning charged in such dim confines as raging titian flickered upon ranging and honing upon the thundering god, Thor standing tall and fearless as lightning charged and danced upon Stephen's form, electrocuting him in the process as the monster shuddered erratically and screamed, rumpling to a charred morass to the ground in a loud and harsh clangor.
Iron Man sailed for Thor once the offense was finished, hand raised as he assessed the beast, then nodding finitely, sighing in dragging exhaustion. A small dart was launched from some small compartment on the suit, pinching into Stephen's hide as his body lurched once before sagging again, truly sedated. Thor and Tony breathed dual sighs of relief.
"So…it is done? Will he be contained?" Thor queried lowly, turning to the shorter man, azure eyes static bright in the dark.
Tony's brows furrowed pensively, head dropping as a hand came to the back of his neck, lips grimacing within the helmet. "Let's hope. I mean, did you see what he was capable of? The most powerful magic user in the world is…this. I think praying is all we can do at this point, Thor." Breath chattered with a rattle through the speakers of his suit. "Alright…let's just get him out of here."