Literature
Spirits |Dr. Strange|
The Bar With No Doors,
on an altered dimension only mystics can find,
Manhattan, New York.
“Dark, Smooth, and Dreamy, huh?”
“Stephen, don't. Just drink your cursed drink—” the barkeep was rudely interrupted as a flash of red flew past his face, crimson cape slapping a customer's unprepared drink out of his hand.
Stephen Strange—the man wearing the cape—turned to you in a dazed yet collected state.
“I'm dark and smooth... and I can be dreamy,” he raised a playful brow at you, holding up his bottle of booze as he read its slogan. The extremely overwhelming feeling of first, and secondha
