"Hell If I Know. Call Someone, Perhaps? It Is Supposed To Be A Phone, Is It Not?"

Starvetober day 27: siblings little jack and william!! Klei please give us a short with them both I beg you

"That's Maxwell the Great. Or The Amazing Maxwell, if you prefer." Not that he isn't also magnificent, it's just not in the name.

Ah. There's that recognition. It always comes eventually, even if magicfolk don't always fully understand why it's there.

"That's right." Maxwell grins, spreading his arms wide. "Putting two and two together, now, are we?"

That would make one of them, because Max has to admit he's a liiiiittle confused about the non sequitur. Ah-- unless the child means the history of their people.

"There isn't a person in this world more qualified to answer your questions, then. Treat me to lunch between shows and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Oh, this man has a flair for drama. William can respect that . . . given, it makes sense, doesn't it ? Him being a performer and all . . . ❝ And that's why you're Maxwell the Magnificent then. Got it ! ❞ William says, misremembering the title in full confidence via newly formed mandela effect.

The theatrics aren't over yet, however when—

William this time lets out a nervous chitter from the other's claw as realisation sets in. He looks down at his own hands as if to confirm it.

No fucking way.

❝ Are you— you're— ❞ William's throat runs dry, words escaping him. This feels too surreal. He has to be wrong. But— shit. That would explain a lot about him. His own black claws. His own interests. His connection to the Capital.

Still, they can't jump the gun. They have to be smart. Their heart is racing.

❝ Y-you know, I uh . . . I'm in town because I was trying to get . . . records. Learn some stuff. About my history. ❞ Ring any bells ? His eyes are fixated on the man.

{ isola starter call ! || @ciphertone ! }

"Yes, yes, yes, I understand, knowledge comes at a price, my tiny mortal mind won't be able to contain it all. I'm not stupid, and I'm not new to this sort of thing, either."

He's been on both sides of the whole "cursed deal" situation, and if he can't handle himself at this point, then he deserves to go mad from whatever secrets are locked away in those tomes.

"My request is simple. I'd like to know what your organization has archived on the process of entering and leaving this dimension, and I'd like to know what my options are for using magic before my personal effects are returned to me. Now. Can you help me or not?"

;;

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

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."

Oh, how he wishes he could sic his hounds on this fox in true hunting party fashion.

"Yes, yes, fine!" he grinds out, throwing his hands up in defeat. "If you apologize and if you make it worth my while to see this agreement through, I'll transcribe everything perfectly legibly in our common tongue. I expect you to do the same. No tricks from either of us. Happy?"

"Your end of the deal. Hm. May I have an inquiry?" He did not actually stop to see if Maxwell would give him the go ahead.

"Is the knowledge you possess written in the common language of this island?"

fake idgafer. i saw tht haunted look in ur eyes

{ isola starter call ! || @astrallithid! }

Maxwell sits on a weather-worn stone, his jacket folded neatly over his lap and sweat gathering on his brow. His heart can't take this heat! Is this what summers are like for his pawns? If so, he counts himself lucky that he managed to escape before the season turned.

He sways, sight unfocused with the shimmering haze of heat rising off of the expanse of sand around him. He had wanted to come see the grand skeleton of the desert. It is quite impressive a sight, but not one worth passing out for. But he's here now, and he didn't exactly have the chance to whip up a chilled thermal stone for the trip.

...good lord. The Amazing Maxwell is going to die from exposure of all things.

As his breathing turns more labored, Max catches sight of another figure approaching the Bones of the Forgotten. He stands too quickly, hoping to wave them down, and collapses onto one knee. They appear to be a hearty sort (far more suited to traversing inhospitable climates than Max himself), and they're sure to be able to help-- if they're kind enough to stop and assist a stranger stranded in the sands, of course.

happy haloween!!

"You don't think I could handle my own against Fae royalty?" He's joking, of course; whatever powers ruled over her version of Britain were undoubtedly on par with Them in terms of their command of magic-- and underlings. Maxwell would have been swallowed up and spit out and turned to dust in no time at all, he's sure.

"You assume correctly. I didn't even encounter true magic until I left the area entirely. My world was woefully devoid of the stuff. ...legends of your kind notwithstanding."

"Did you know any humans at all before your arrival here?"

@codexvmbra

● "Hmm... I suppose the legend behind the Baobhan sith comes from Scottish folklore, but I am a fairy that was born and raised in Britain." She'd been surprised to meet a human that heard her name and immediately drew the correlation between it and those legends. Was he perhaps from that part of the world?

"It wasn't really the Britain you seem to know, though. Unless your Britain was ruled by fairies? But I seriously doubt you'd be alive if that were the case, human."