William Trying Out His Magic Tricks On Kids For The First Time XD

Maxwell knows exactly what that means; he's too ugly to show his face.

He turns up his nose at the other man, considering snapping back that his features are just fine, thank you very much, but--

He sighs.

"No, I don't object."

This... could be fun, maybe. His would-be employer is certainly polite enough to "mask" his truthful appraisal with that line about mystery, and Max has always been intrigued by intrigue itself...

"I trust you'll find something suitably dashing for me to conceal myself with. What exactly would I be expected to do once you have me all dolled up?"

Cecil's eyes scan the figure from head to toe, lingering longest on his face. It's not...beautiful in the conventional sense, but it carries its own sense of dignity.

❛ For you, more than adequate. ❜

❛ You have a good silhouette, so your strength lies in your figure. I feel that you would benefit from an air of mystery, however— ❜ Here it was, his compromise:

❛ Do you object to wearing masks? ❜

Impudent, infuriating vermin--!

Maxwell lunges, claws outstretched. He's going to throttle this fox until his fur turns blue, and then some!

He throws his entire (meager) body weight behind the attack, intending to tackle the Librarian to the ground and show him just how much "terror" he instills in the Nightmare King.

He smirks, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

"Perfectly happy," He crooned. "And I shall, in turn, transcribe my knowledge into the legible and understandable common tongue just as you will."

He tented his fingers together, his grin just a touch malicious.

"And your apology, Great Maxwell: I am sorry that you felt such terror at my threat as to withdraw our agreement. I will be gentler in future as not to cause you fear."

create something in my workshop.

a necklace.

bit by bit, you’ve crafted a beautiful piece of jewelry, one that gleams in the sun and glitters in the low light, one that draws attention and admiration and glowing words. you step out into the world and the world turns to you. eyes are caught by the shimmer. hands reach out to touch. gasps fall from mouths at the very sight of you. you feel like the center of the world until you realize that what people are really looking at is the necklace. you haven’t made eye contact with another person in weeks. this thing that you’ve made is gorgeous. it should be a point of pride for you, a a glow of achievement over your chest. with it glimmering across your collarbones, nobody has even noticed that you’re there.

;;

let's get this show on the road with an isola plotting / starter call!

;;

whoops. got sucked into adventure mode. gonna get back to replies in t-minus... now!

Oh, good lord. She's speaking to him.

Static crackles in his mind and in the silent night air, and Maxwell looks at her, stricken.

...no, not speaking. And not to him. The spirit is just... coming into existence, that's all.

That's all.

"Thank you," he mumbles, something he's only ever said sarcastically to his typical puppets, but which is entirely genuine when spoken to her. He shivers under the pale blue of the lantern. He should be dead right now. Like her...

IT LOOKS AT HIM.

"Stop that!" Maxwell snarls, eyes wide and terrified. He takes a step back, freezing when he nears the edge of the ring of light.

What is he thinking? Of course she isn't looking at him. He's just lost what was left of his sanity summoning her, that's all.

That's. All.

"We're going home. I-- I'm going home. Come. And don't you dare drop that light."

With spectral candlelight, the spirit materialises.

It has no will. She. SHE. SHE. SHE. SHE. SHE WAS-

The absence of anger, of feeling is noted as its feeble attempt dissolves into radio static, lost and numb. It moves, conjured with its lantern to illuminate the surrounds. It knows it does this, even if it does not see. Vague stimuli to give it a perception, of course, but only what is necessary. The darkness. Objects. It notes its summoner, moving before and beside him, crowning him with protective light.

It feels again. So, it tries to speak, ultimately useless when it has no mouth. However this time, perhaps from something it can percieve stirring in its core, it does face him. Looking. That's all. It wishes it could cry, only for a moment. It can't wish. It is bound to the summoner, but in this moment it has managed more than it had in its past. It seems, even if fleeting, aware.

Maxwell stares at her, his lip curling slightly. She reminds him very, very much of one of his pawns-- that same attitude towards death, that same manner of speaking.

He exhales in a huff.

"Yes, why don't you do that." It would serve her right for mocking him.

"I'm not a coward, you know," he sulks. "I'm hardly a stranger to death."

He can picture it quite starkly. That feeling of his body, held together through Their will alone, crumbling into dust... a knife would feel like a lover's caress compared to that, but that doesn't mean Maxwell is going to up and toss his life away for no good reason.

"Simple. We determine the motive behind this death. Is the killer planning to pick us off one by one, or did they have some grudge against this specific passenger? Can they be reasoned with, or will we need to resort to force in order to protect ourselves?"

Simple in theory, maybe, but less so in practice.

Maxwell leans up against the wall, surveying the other pairs.

"Do you recognize the corpse? Understanding the deceased may shed some light onto the one responsible."

And if not that, then--

"Alternatively... look over there. That pair across from us. They seem rather unaffected, do they not? Maybe that means that one or both of them expected this to happen."

Mira at first doesn't move any to glance back towards the man looming over his shoulder when he's speaking at first, more focused on the body on the ground before she hears him spout off that the one who had done the killing should come forward now.

That finally draws her attention away from the body to cast a glance towards the outspoken man as everyone else in the car begins to argue amongst one another for a moment before she's looking at the 'investigator'. Once it's settled on that everyone should stay in pairs and she's paired up with the man who's started to arguments between the others, eyes dart back up to his face as she tilts her head a little.

"Death is nothing to be feared, it happens to all. However, if it shall bring you comfort, I will stand behind you so I shall be hit first if you like?"

Mira offers to the man, even if he was the one who caused all of the ruckus in the first place as the other pairs move to further themselves for safety, which in turn makes Mira look towards the dead body again, raising a hand to motion towards it.

"How would you go about making sure you do not end up like him?"

happy haloween!!

Maxwell's lip remains curled in a snarl. There is... a point to be made, yes, that the Librarian's words were nothing more than an empty threat. At the same time, it's a matter of respect. And lack thereof.

"Oh, please. As I said before, I always hold up my end of a deal. Just because you'd resort to violence doesn't mean I'd do the same."

Is Maxwell really trying to claim the moral high ground after everything he's done?

"If it's such a non-issue, then just apologize and let us get on with things. Unless your pride is more important to you than your pursuit of knowledge, Mr. Librarian."

The Librarian chuckled, a deep noise.

"Between us...if I have assessed you correctly...an empty threat as it was, for I did admit that I did not have my blade on me...should be nothing more than a trifle, yes?"

"Or are you such a stickler for this polite, respectable folly that you won't admit that, if within your power, you'd attack and peel the knowledge from my bones?"