He Continues To Scowl At Her; He Knows What It Would Look Like To The Rest Of The Passengers, A Grown

He's in desperate need of dust, so he doesn't not want to work for you. And standing around in nice clothes is all he does anyway, so he'd be the perfect fit!

He could use some touching up in the "pretty" department, though.

"How's the pay?" Right down to business. How charming, Max.

Flutters eyelashes.

❛ Don't you want to work for me? ❜

If you're pretty enough, all you have to do is stand there in nice clothes.

Maxwell is still sneering, pride wounded and temper high, but he listens, eyes narrowing the longer the Librarian speaks.

The fox is still interested in an exchange, even after the turn this conversation has taken.

Fine.

"I may be convinced to continue with this-- if you apologize."

He'll even make this a fair trade and write in Common, as expected. It's not as though he'll be giving up any of his power by sharing pages of the Codex, after all; he's Their favorite, and unless They think They can get to him through the Librarian, it's exceedingly doubtful that They'd grant the fox any real abilities. The singular benefit of having Their "favor"...

"A pleasure," Maxwell says flatly, offering his hand again.

He took in the man's words, his ears swiveling atop his head.

"Hold a moment."

"If I were back from whence I came I would have no words for anyone who encountered me. But...I am not there. And I am glad of it. Away from the cyclical suffering.

I want to learn as is my nature now. You want to learn. I have no grand plot to try and return to that place, thus the learning is for learning's sake.

Perhaps we drop all the preamble. We do not need to give one another all the answers. It is not true study otherwise. But I've an aching curiosity and if possible, I would like to fulfill it. You want to know too, don't you?

Great Maxwell, was it? I am the Librarian."

Certainly the latter; it's not her "integrity" he's after, here.

"You misunderstand. Back home, I spent my time helping people get what they want-- what they need. I merely assumed that someone used to a certain lifestyle like yourself might find yourself missing that sort of support now that you're here. I'm here to help."

That's his point exactly; she has no one to whom she can dedicate herself and her loyalty. So why not dedicate herself to him--?

"So that's what you call it." Freeing people from some other exploitative power just to keep them under her own thumb, no doubt.

"Well, there's no power more exploitative here than the Stars themselves." At least, that's one sentiment. Maxwell, for his part, finds their captors-slash-saviors to be perfectly adequate, all things considered.

"So it stands to reason that your first step would be to take on the big bads themselves, right?"

He's teasing her. He doesn't believe for one second that she's the underdog protector-of-the-downtrodden that she claims to be.

◈ Carlotta's gaze narrowed. "Oh? A most curious proposal to levy towards someone you've only just met, sir. Do I give off an air of integrity, or could it be possible you may be interested in my skillset?" She hadn't divulged her talents to him, but she wore a BB gun on her hip. With what she'd said, it was possible he could have concerned she was a marksman.

If so, he was absolutely correct in that assertion.

"Admittedly, as a fresh face I hardly have much in the way of aspirations just yet. Committed to my family as I am, that loyalty serves no purpose here." A world without the Montellis was something new to brave, but the woman was up to the challenge. "So I suppose I'll inevitable fall back on my principles alone. Surely there are those here that are suffering under the pressures of the exploitative, so I'd work to relieve those pressures so that the suffering know peace."

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He pokes at the LifeSavers Book of Spells. A dusting of sugar coats his hand like fine snow. ...this'll take some getting used to. But, hey--

"Magic is magic."

"And getting to use it again sure tastes sweet."

gotta teach a child how to play because no one else wants to play with him anymore

This one's always disturbed Maxwell with stirrings of guilt, even back when such a thing hardly seemed possible.

He didn't bring his pawns here to watch them give up. He's not an evil man! He doesn't enjoy despair, he enjoys-- enjoyed--

It doesn't matter now. The point is, if he had known she'd kill herself right in front of him and never fight to be remade, he wouldn't have brought her here.

"It's not my fault," he mutters, and it's unclear whether he's speaking to himself or the shadow.

It takes all night for them to trek back to the main camp's area of the forest, and Maxwell curses up a storm when he realizes he forgot to go back for the gathered resources. He can picture it now, all the nagging and disappointed looks from the other survivors. Or worse, pity, worry, their reassurances that it's okay that he can't manage to pull his weight because they all know how old and weak and useless he is.

Maxwell rubs at his temples against the low, pounding headache beginning to form there. Despite her light, his shadow is draining him, making him nervous and tense.

It's time to dispel her. Finally.

Except... as he turns back towards her with his hand raised, it feels more like murder than waving away smoke. Where does she go when she's not with him? She's a creature of darkness now, so surely that means she resides in Their lair along with all the other twisted, formless beings of the night.

With Charlie...?

"...it's-- it is time to release you now." Maxwell watches her, fear still evident on his face. "Is that what you... want?"

' Thank you. ,

It wants, in a fleeting moment of consciousness. An urge pulling it to appreciate, and in turn communicate.

It says nothing. It thinks nothing. A command from the summoner to which SHE is bound.

Can it stare ? Does it manage ? A mere silhouette, an idle form lost within an enveloping fog from its perspective. Yet to those with beating hearts in the Constant, it is a whisper of smoke and decay in a flick of eroded smoke. Like the wrenching tear of film on a projector, the shadow snaps and morphs. Static lingers for a breath, before it reconstitutes into something whole once more.

Orders.

The shadow does not waver, its lantern held steadfastly in its "hand," enveloping the summoner in protective embrace.

This order makes it feel. It flickers again. It only moves when he does.

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?"

It worked for their relationship. Sort of. In a way. That fight they had at least stopped some of their circling arguments in their tracks.

"Oh, certainly. They do so hate to see us having fun. But that's all the more reason for us to have a blast before they take away our toys."

Hah! The Librarian's lucky that the worst of Maxwell's ire bled out with his wounds last time.

"Only because you asked so politely." He gives the fox an exaggerated bow.

"Why don't you show me what you've got up your sleeves?" Technically, perhaps, they should wait to attack the "monsters" instead of the candy people asking for help, but personally, Maxwell just wants to watch his acquaintance wreak havoc-- regardless of who's caught in the crossfire.

"Oh yes." He chuckled darkly. "Many a time violence is the shortest route to a goal."

He hummed a noise. "And perhaps...this is a good assessment, yes. Take advantage of an opportunity."

Ah, abilities. "Yes, actually." He raised his rock candy wand. "I can only assume once our captors have had their fun that these powers will be taken back."

He looked over at Maxwell with a smirk.

"What is the saying?" He chuckled. "May I have this dance?"

Prompt 17: inhuman