9:04. 9:05. 9:06. Strange was late.

It wasn't like him to be late, especially on a day like this, where the lines of fate were stretching infinitely into the stars like mannequin strings. His mind raced with the thousandfold beatings of his heart; his magic worked to get everyone in Central Park, not to keep them there. A mild oversight that could have cost Strange the world. 

Almost on cue, his phone started ringing. Strange couldn't deny that these worldly items were much easier than even magic at times, and muttered a prayer under his breath as he put the device to his ear. He wasn't surprised at who was on "the other end", though he was surprised at the intensity of this man's speech. 

He listened. "Strange, there's a change of plans. Get them on board, and take them to me. I don't have much time, but neither do you. Try to make a good impression." 

The phone clicked off as Strange arrived near the general vicinity of his gathered party. If that was to be a means of encouragement, it wasn't a good one for Strange. Oh well. Strange ignored his friend, and immediately started weaving intricate spellwork on a level he hadn't dare touched before. Of course, the stars were out, and the moon hung like a corpse in the sky, radiating magical energy. This made it easier for Strange, who understood the Laws and the Truths. 

It was 9:08 by the time he made his way through the nightly crowd, and by then his spells had begun to take effect. The chirping of the birds, the din of mass conversation were all shut out. Any sounds of distraction were faded away into silence. Soon, even the forms of those who weren't directed here by Strange disappeared; they were still there, but unseen and unnoticed. It was like they were made invisible to each other; the crowd and Strange and his guests. He wanted privacy. Of course, there was a reason why he had to be "Private" in a place such as this. He was a forgetful being-- not a stupid one.

He turned so that they could all see him. He was unsure of what style of dress would be suitable for such a varied culture of people, so he wore what he had left of his last visit a few decades ago: a straw hat and some overalls held up by a black suspender. He wore no shoes, and his features were decidedly average; ear-length jet black hair and light green eyes. 

Indeed, he looked quite natural.

Or so he thought.