Stephen Strange Cape Novels & Stories

I frown, thinking on how familiar the male's voice was, searching my mind for where I might have heard it before. "Tonight," The Strange man continues, shrouded in the covering of his cape. "We have new commerades, as well as not so new Counsellors who will mold our new recruits into our way of life. We have lost many over the last year." A heavy pause as others glance at each other, or still others grumble around me and I can't help observe the hatred in their eyes. Where the hell had I taken myself to? "This time around, we will take nothing for granted." The stranger bellows, throwing off his hood in the process and I gasp, taking a step back.

My gaze trailed upward, slow and hesitant, to a face I wasn’t ready to see. Veylor Caith. The stranger who had arrived in our quiet, almost dead town for reasons I couldn’t begin to understand—and now he was standing over me like he had been waiting.

She seemed overenthusiastic and many eyes could see it, though, they only thought that it was because the new contestant could use space magic, the same as hers. Emma was a bit anxious by the strange smile and shiny eyes Madame Lu was giving her. However, she was now more focused on the man before her. He was wearing a long green cape with a symbol of a flower on the back. He wasn't wearing the hood not even a mask, his simple clothing only highlighted the beauty of his face.

Joel silently followed behind me, his footsteps quiet as he lingered a few steps behind and yet, I knew he saw everything. Draco was wearing a white casual T-shirt and black jeans with a black denim jacket thrown over his shoulders. His shades were in his hair and he was wearing converse shoes instead of his regular polished boots. The casual attire had thrown me off when I had first seen him, mostly because I had never seen him wear casual clothes to this extent before. No one would be able to tell that he was the Capo de Capi, the most feared man in all of New York, just by looking at him right now.

It flew up toward me, but I was jerked out of its path and it clattered down the crevice between the car and the alley wall. The hand squeezed tighter, and I twisted around to face its owner. Then I froze. It was a redcap—basically a giant goblin—with long hair that was as greasy and black as crude oil. His eyes were flaming furnaces and his jaundiced skin was thicker than an elephant's hide. He was wearing homespun pants in rancid green, a pus-yellow tunic, and something which resembled a Greek fisherman's cap that was stuck low on his head. This cap, which Redcaps reportedly soaked in the blood of their victims, was dark brownish-red, crusty at the edges, and smelled of death.

The dream-fly sifted through it, opening and closing a few before sinking her claws carefully into a large silver one, and brought it over to Jester. Jester opened the box, and inside was something very black and luxuriously furry… He lifted it out of the box, and he realized he held in his hands a fur-lined cape. An intricate geometric design covered the back, embroidered in what he believed to be gold-spun thread. The clasp was leather of a dark grey, with a small diamond embedded into the metal. Before he could say anything, the dream-fly slid open the closet door and fluttered out carrying in her tiny, hooked claws a dark-grey suit and a white collared shirt.

He twisted the cap off and proceeded to fill up each of our shot glasses. Neal was getting more and more agitated with the collar of his Dr. Strange cape. It seemed to be obscuring his view from left to right and causing him to fidget more than he usually would. The only costume item that he didn’t need was the set of prominent eyebrows that came with the suit. Neal had a perfectly good bushy pair of his own that were always fixed into a permanent scowl.

My Alpha - strengths denting the metal plate in a spray of sparks from my claws meeting the body of the safe. I jammed a tactical override tool into the circuitry, short circuit the digital lock with savage twist, pulling it away. The safe door, swung open with a heavy, metallic groans. In there were small rows of IV bags, arranged like a fucked up laboratory collection. Each one labeled in a neat clinical way. “S - Vale strain. High concentration.” I reached in, fingers trembling as I pulled out a silk scarf tucked into the corner of the shelf. It hit me like a physical blow to the chest.

Or is it because he asked me to not showup in front of him but I still did? On the midst of mocking our immortality, Martha suddenly grabs my cape, the one Isabelle gifted me. Her mouth opens in an 'O' . She runs back to where Henry and Steven were sitting. grabing them by their hands, she drags them to us. Henry shrugs her hands off and tries walking back until she stops him again. "Tha....th...THATS IZZY'S!" She stutters. Henry's eyes move from Martha to me, and then at my Cape. He scans it properly and then asks in a slow voice.

Val stepped closer to the TV, his gaze fixed on the image of Val Di Corvo. "He was supposed to succeed his father as the new capo." I continued, staring at the picture as I took in something else. I knew Val, but I had never met him; I had only seen him in the tabloids. This was the first time I looked at him and noticed how much he resembled my Val; it was uncanny. They appeared to be about the same height and body type, but Val did not have green eyes. He had steel blue eyes and didn’t have the signature red hair.