Even fellow colleagues in Research aren’t immune to the allure of the big glowy thing.

After a lull in his own presentations, a student walking away from the medical table with their arm stiffly wound in plaster (“Don’t touch it, and come back here in half an hour”), Strange drifts over to watch the oohs and ahhs around the thaumoscope as a goggle-eyed child presses their palm to it and their hair stands on end. The man lurks on the periphery, contemplatively nibbling on some sort of small bite-sized Orlesian cake — they’re similar to madeleines — as he watches.

Things have been busy around the Gallows lately (when are they not?), and Doctor Strange has been spending more of his time downstairs in the infirmary rather than in the Research workrooms; hasn’t had a chance to speak much to Viktor’s new engineering partner. Seen enough of each other around the tower to distantly recognise each other, not enough to know each other just yet.

“Does it zap rifter mages too?” he asks Jayce, offhand and without preamble, once there’s a moment.

He can’t not ask.