"You Don't Think I Could Handle My Own Against Fae Royalty?" He's Joking, Of Course; Whatever Powers

Prompt 17: inhuman

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

"I cannot understand you."

But if nothing else, she's proven that she's listening. She's in there, aware... why doesn't she attack him? Why hadn't she dropped her light and left him to Them like he left her? It'd be no less than he deserves.

Is she showing kindness, or does he simply have her shackled too tightly for her to act on her own?

Ah-- that's it!

"My other puppets-- that-- that is to say, the-- the-- the shadows at my command, they are capable of performing tasks without my direct supervision."

His brow furrows in concentration, and he attempts to connect with her as he would his soulless summons. She must be able to do something other than stand there and stare. Communicate with him. Tell him what to do to make this right.

' It's not my fault. ,

It faces him, looming. Staring. The light glows, and where he goes, it follows with a stable form.

It has a moment of clarity, and it forms an assessment of its caller. Stressed. He's stressed.

For a moment, it thinks, managing to recall a hazy blink of its own experiences. It knows it used to feel, and that it was unpleasant . . . but what was feeling like ? What was it like to have senses ? To be human.

The shadow hums more static, thoughts evaporating as it becomes a servant again.

Then, he acknowledges her.

He asks what it wants.

He asks what she wants. The static becomes a sort of breath; not exactly communication but . . . it hopes to be a answer. She wants to tell him that anything is better than the dark. That, it knows, it does feel.

And catch he does! For all of his posturing, Maxwell is physically quite weak, and he doubles over as soon as those claws slash across his front. The Stars have not seen fit to return his armor, and he takes the full brunt of the attack.

Pain blooms in his chest, and red begins to stain his suit; it gives the appearance that the vibrant poppy on his lapel has begun to drip its color like splattered ink.

Ow.

On instinct, Max pulls out the book the Stars have given him and flips it open. Nothing happens.

"Fine, fine, yes! You've proven your point." Max's expression is still twisted into a hateful snarl. If only he still had the power to pull irritations like the Librarian into a hell of his own making...

"Now finish the job or leave me to lick my wounds in peace."

Surprised, his body pulls back as it sees Maxwell's lunge. But Maxwell makes contact all the same. The Librarian, while lithe, was exceptionally taller than most humans and human adjacent.

Thus he was tackled down, but not flat to his back. Instead his lengthy legs were sprawled out and he was sitting up with his arms holding him up behind him. His eyes were bright and he looked both like he were smiling wide and mashing his teeth for attack.

"Your claws suit your countenance well, a predator! Take a look at mine!"

He sat forward, swiping an arm in an arc in front of him, claws out, trying to catch Maxwell.

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."

Maxwell doesn't try to hide it this time; he laughs, loudly, attracting the attention of many of the other passengers. Some look at him with confusion, others with suspicion, and the pair being pointed at turn to whisper urgently to each other. What a lark!

"What? No, no. Well, maybe, who knows? Maybe our dear deceased was this close to blowing the lid off of their little operation, and they needed to ensure their silence."

From the look of those men, however, Max is skeptical they'd have the guts to go through with a stabbing.

"But this information is relevant to something else. Have you heard of blackmail, child? It's when you hear things, you tell them only to me, and I make us both rich."

Not necessarily off of this tidbit of information-- as the girl's pointed out, others have probably overheard different pieces of conversations in this small space. But in the future...

Yes, Max decides. He's keeping her.

"What's your name, kid?" he says with a smile, moving to sling an arm around her shoulder and pull her back against the safety of the wall with him. No more playing meat-shield for this one-- he likes her.

After Max's outburst of laughter (rather inappropriate considering the circumstances), more and more groups are beginning to look in his direction, glancing between him and his partner with increased suspicion.

...whoops.

There is absolutely no missing the change in his facial expression as she watches it morph through several emotions before seeing it land on a wide grin upon his face. He.. Liked hearing that as a response? Why would that information bring him such joy? It didn't seem he personally knew them.

"They weren't exactly quiet about it, I'm sure others overheard them."

Still, upon him asking about another pair in the car with them, she's moving to look towards them, not even being subtle about it as she's taking a moment to think back to when each individual was walking through the car besides her as she was sitting there, not even questioning why he'd wish to know such things.

"...Let's see.."

Mira then lifts a finger, pointing towards the sweaty and nervous one, before speaking.

"Something called embezzlement from the corporate job he has or something of the sort," then, she moves to point at the terrified one, "Helping him out, and his dad is the owner of the company."

Mira then moves to look back towards him, not catching how the pair of men are shooting their gaze towards her after just so casually saying such things.

"I do not see how any of this helps stop any more stabbings. Unless this information is relevant somehow?"

Tap. Tap tap tap.

That’s it, he gives up. This blasted device has bested him once and for all.

“Does anyone here actually know how to use one of these ‘cell-phones’?”

"It is."

He glances around, coming to stand near the Librarian. While the fox appears altogether disinterested in the display, there's a gleam of amusement in Maxwell's eyes.

"My, my, I should have known you had a violent streak." When you nearly clawed me in half. "I think this will all be great fun, if we let it be. Don't think of it as doing them a favor-- think of it as being offered the opportunity to let off some steam. ...something you clearly need."

He's already made up his mind to try his hand at defeating the waves of monsters; he enjoys watching combat more than he enjoys partaking in it himself, but he's certainly not going to pass up the chance to put his new book of spells to the test.

"Have you gotten any new abilities? As far as I'm concerned, that's already made all of this ridiculousness worthwhile."

Candy Culling

Even as panic took the people, he sat, watching it all, a cup of coffee in hand. Catching someone in his peripheral vision, he addressed them.

"It's you, Great Maxwell." He drawled, sounding bored.

"What do you make of it? The staged people, the candy magic?"

He sips.

"I was contemplating whether to do as they ask. On the one hand, I don't tend towards doing things for others with such little information given.

On the other hand, everything is awful and I wouldn't mind pounding these disgusting, sticky, oozy, melty monsters to crumbling bits... and perhaps learn something of our captors further inside the castle."

@codexvmbra

This is Paradise. To hell with his Codex, to hell with his power!-- he has been gifted the only thing he truly wants right now, and the only thing They could never give him.

Charlie's safe. Jack's happy. Even Higgsbury is probably still at home, chugging away at his doomed experiments. It's as though William Carter never existed, and thus, neither has his long string of failures and regrets.

Maxwell is finally, for the first time ever, truly free.

He strolls into the amphitheater without a care in the world, meeting the stranger's glare with a smug, unbothered grin.

"Oh, dear, am I interrupting something? I didn't realize this space was reserved." It's not, he's sure, and he's in too good a mood to let one nasty look drive him out or goad him into a fight.

Instead, he plops down in a seat right next to the one who glared at him, beaming at the dancers on stage. This is what Charlie looks like right now, he bets-- she's found another performer to work with, and is having the time of her life. Unharmed, prosperous, sane.

"Bravi!" he calls out to the dancers on stage. Then, to the small group in the audience with him: "Friends of yours?"

The posse has set up shop at one of the amphitheaters in Archimedes Ward. Anne is practicing on stage with a few other dancers she's found, teaching them how to do the can-can.

The other three women sit around the theater. Pearl's reading a book about finances, Umbra is mending her bow and arrows, and Maria is tending to Mister Blue.

And there seems to be someone else who wandered in... Maria gives him the stink eye. Pearl and Umbra look over, and Anne seems too invested in her dancing to give more than a glance.

@codexvmbra

His wrongs! Maxwell snarls again, and their shaky truce nearly goes up in smoke for the second time.

He jabs a clawed finger at the Librarian's chest.

"Listen, pal, I'm not the one who jumped straight to threats of skewering you on my blade!" Sure, he had offered some threats of his own, but only after his ungrateful would-be partner had first!

"Apologize for letting it cross your minuscule mind to challenge me. Is that clear enough for you?"

He scoffed.

"You would then also have to admit your wrongs."

"You truly do insist on these one sided exchanges, don't you? I suppose you wouldn't be winning if you had to give the same amount as you got.

So, tell me then. What exactly is it that you find I have so transgressed that an apology is in order?"