doctor stephen strange is what one would call, out of his element. he can still feel his magic course through him, though some of it feels... far away, like it's being held on a string away from his face. it has him on guard, his shaking hands held aloft next to his head. just in case.

he's familiar with piloting, of course, with tech that s.h.i.e.l.d. had offered him in the past. with things like the quinjet. but these... these are new. well, new to him. these have clearly seen some use, but they don't look anything at all like the tech he knows. some of them are dirty, others are dusty, some are shined like new. there doesn't seem to be a sign of life, however, until the door to one of them whooshes open, a sudden movement that makes him freeze momentarily. outside the vanquish, doctor strange awaits any other sudden motions. is there anyone inside?

if anyone receives this message, my name is doctor stephen strange and i've found myself in an unfamiliar place. please respond if you have assistance to offer.