"You'd think that they'd at least splurge for the good alcohol, but no, I guess we can't encourage everyone to get absolutely blasted," Stephen says drolly. He's sure Stark does have far better quality alcohol back at his place, as well as sorts of potentially intellectually fascinating things, and the ability to see what he looks like under that suit.
Never let it be said that Stephen has a type, but Stark does, in fact, fall directly within that type.
The speeches start, and Stephen is at least polite enough to stop talking during them, however boring they are. Under the cover of dimmed lights, he shoots the occasional amused eyeroll toward Stark whenever something particularly monotonous or stupid is said. The director of the health board for New York speaks first, and then the director of the hospital, and when he starts looking into the audience, Stephen figures that's his cue to get ready. He dutifully accepts the award for the new non-invasive technique he'd invented to help with essential tremor -- and when he gives a speech about high-frequency sonic beams guided by magnetic resonance to ablate the focal point in the brain causing tremors in Parkinson's patients, most of the room just politely claps, because Stephen Strange is many things but he's not especially gifted at audience engagement -- and by the time he returns to his spot in the crowd, he's got a little piece of glass and steel with his name on it. Good for him.
It's another few minutes before the speeches end, and the fundraising portion of the evening begins, with people starting to line up to write down their pledges.
"Honestly, you'd think half of the people in here had never even heard of an MRI," Stephen sniffs, snagging a new glass of champagne.
no subject
Never let it be said that Stephen has a type, but Stark does, in fact, fall directly within that type.
The speeches start, and Stephen is at least polite enough to stop talking during them, however boring they are. Under the cover of dimmed lights, he shoots the occasional amused eyeroll toward Stark whenever something particularly monotonous or stupid is said. The director of the health board for New York speaks first, and then the director of the hospital, and when he starts looking into the audience, Stephen figures that's his cue to get ready. He dutifully accepts the award for the new non-invasive technique he'd invented to help with essential tremor -- and when he gives a speech about high-frequency sonic beams guided by magnetic resonance to ablate the focal point in the brain causing tremors in Parkinson's patients, most of the room just politely claps, because Stephen Strange is many things but he's not especially gifted at audience engagement -- and by the time he returns to his spot in the crowd, he's got a little piece of glass and steel with his name on it. Good for him.
It's another few minutes before the speeches end, and the fundraising portion of the evening begins, with people starting to line up to write down their pledges.
"Honestly, you'd think half of the people in here had never even heard of an MRI," Stephen sniffs, snagging a new glass of champagne.