"Long time no see, He."
With a heartfelt smile, Steve Rogers shook He Shenyan's hand, then took a seat. He was clearly in a decent mood; otherwise, he would not have started joking the moment he sat down. "Your taste in décor is still as peculiar as ever."
The Mage naturally did not need to look back to guess what he was referring to.
Décor?
He smiled. "I wouldn't call something like that décor, Steve. In fact, my taste shouldn't be so awful yet. Even if my aesthetics really did fail me one day and I decided to dress myself and the Vengeance up like some killer maniac from an eighties cult film, I'd definitely choose Pinhead, not Jason or Freddy."
Steve could not help laughing—no matter when it was, He's jokes were always funny enough to him. And they always managed to hit his funny bone in the strangest places.
"Pinhead isn't much better, is he?" Steve complained with a laugh. "Remember that movie night Tony missed, the one Strange hosted? I got a close-up look at that Hell priest that time. To be honest, he and Slaanesh's followers and Demons would probably have a lot in common."
"You do have a point. He calls himself an explorer in the further regions of experience. That description is interesting." The Mage smiled faintly. "Perhaps we all have to admit one thing: in the human world, there are always geniuses capable of inventing things that transcend their era, even their world. At the very least, I don't think a mentally sound person could have written something like Hellraiser."
"I agree."
Steve nodded. The smile vanished after that nod, replaced by seriousness, deep furrows appearing between his brows. "Roboute Guilliman told me you were doing something dangerous to yourself."
He shifted his