... ..... .......

;;

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

maxwell playing chess with one of his shadow puppets and losing

Eugh. Maxwell doesn't bother to hide that he's rolling his eyes.

"Yes, memorized, go on." He's watching the other performer's hands, of course, and doesn't miss when the card goes up into his sleeve. Classic, predictable, boring. And here comes the "oh no, I'm totally, honestly, really messing up!" bit. A typical diversion with a bit of showmanship to sell it all.

"Get on with it." The card's in one of the man's pockets or in his other hand or somewhere equally--

Something slips from Max's shoulder and he catches it, staring at the three of clubs.

"This would be impressive, if you hadn't used real magic to do it."

The entire point of this exercise is to practice stage magic, not spells! Is he just trying to rub it in that Maxwell's own magic is on freeze right now?

The magician pouts like a petulant child and looks down his nose at Nikolai.

"All you've done is proven you need to rely on your extra abilities to perform the simplest of acts. I bet you couldn't entertain a theater full of children without resorting to these parlor tricks!"

A LAUGH spills out of him at the defensiveness. he understands, though ! the pain of seeing a trick go awry. even the most seasoned magicians slip up from time to time, right?

nikolai himself works very hard to keep his skills sharp ( a mistake in his line of work can cost him his very life, after all ) and so he takes the deck and shuffles it. he's smiling, delighted, he loves meeting someone who understands magic and showmanship !

"i am indeed perfect," he agrees, that easy smile on his face. "thank you for noticing."

with a flourish, he draws a card—the three of clubs, but he's not really looking—and holds it up. "memorize this one. now..."

he shuffles the deck again, sliding it into his sleeve and activating his ability, making the card appear out of thin air above maxwell's head, falling onto his shoulder. how long will it take the man to notice?

"drat, where did it go!" he asks, feigning ignorance and patting his pockets as if searching for it.

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

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 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

{ isola starter call ! || @ovcrcoat ! }

"You did not see me slip the card into my other hand. It's unbecoming to lie, you know."

Maxwell shoots Nicolai a withering glare, frustrated by the fact that his practice partner is probably actually telling the truth-- that last sleight of hand pass was downright sloppy. It's been over twenty years since Maxwell last performed close-up tricks without the aid of actual magic (and he couldn't move his blasted wrists for the majority of that time, either), so there's bound to be a learning curve now that he's trying to return to the art. But still. This is embarrassing!

"Fine, then!" he hisses, tossing the deck down onto the table in front of the other man.

"If I'm so terrible at this and you're so perfect, you do it!"

"You dare threaten the Great Maxwell?" He bares his fangs in turn and raises his hands in a grand gesture. It's... not quite as intimidating as it might be if he were forced to capable of appearing monstrous and twisted.

Insolent little worm... if only Maxwell still had his puppets, he would slash this pampered, pompous pup to ribbons!

"Deal's off, Beast. You've made a very grave mistake today. I hope for your sake that you find your blade returned to you before I get mine. Impermanent death won't save you; it means that I will be able to destroy you as many times as I see fit."

Pleasantries, done.

"If things went without saying they would not be written."

He grit his jaw, his lip lifting to reveal his fangs.

"Do not act the wounded party with me. You are trying to play me just as I am trying to play you. I would skewer you atop my blade if I had it, I would kill you without a thought if death stuck here. But I do not have my blade and death is inconsequential here.

What is it they say? Lets....make nice."

"Hell if I know. Call someone, perhaps? It is supposed to be a phone, is it not?"

Who would Maxwell even call...?

"I've been told I can pay with it, among other things." So far, everyone's been gracious enough to handle that process for him when he's wanted to make a purchase.

"I suppose the first step would be to understand what it is actually used for. You have one, too, yes?"

"What're you trying to do?" Brad's not the most social, and generally doesn't care about others, but...

He can emphasize with a fellow grumpy old man.

His smile drops in an instant, irritation flashing across his features. No, no, no. That's not how this works. His playthings don't get to question him and add terms of agreement and try to trap him in something clean-cut and binding like he's a genuine demon.

"Well, that goes without saying, doesn't it?" And he hasn't said it. Technically, it's still not part of the deal. ...he'll certainly need the Librarian's information translated, though, as that little demonstration has shown. How frustrating.

"I don't appreciated being taken for a fool. If you insist on beleaguering me over every little point, perhaps you would care to learn my secrets from someone else. Now, do we have a deal or not?"

His gaze is stone cold, revealing nothing.

"Just a moment, if I may," He rumbled.

"For the sake of clarity, of course." The Librarian was playing too. He knew Maxwell's type; he was one of them. Though, his methods of getting his way perhaps differed. He rarely used honeyed words.

"For one another's portions of knowledge, are they expected to be transcribed in the common language of Radial Island, which we all have inexplicably learned without study?"

Then his mouth opened again and the sounds of chimes and gongs came out instead of words. Or what most would consider words.