Maxwell Playing Chess With One Of His Shadow Puppets And Losing

The magician's brief flash of defensiveness quickly melts away when faced with Cecil's charm. This unique opportunity is beginning to sound better and better; who could be more well-suited for a job description of "look good and get admired for it" than Maxwell the Great?

"Trust me, I can work a crowd." He grins, flashing sharp teeth. All he needs to do is settle back into his stage persona and put some of his more abrasive traits to the side while on the clock. Easy.

"Oh, yes. That all sounds just fine."

"I do believe this is the beginning of a very profitable partnership for both of us. I look forward to working with-- for you. Is there anything else you need from me to make this official?"

❛ I will design your outfit myself, of course. ❜

❛ You must shine if you are in the front, no? ❜

His eyes are already making mental measurements as he studies Maxwell's body, going over color swatches and fabric options in his head and mentally pairing them with the best fitting mask...

❛ The job will depend on your strengths, ❜ Cecil continues. ❛ If you can speak, you will help sell my clothing. Otherwise, just wearing my creation is enough. Do you lounge? I will give you the tools and props for it, to fulfill my vision. ❜

What an apt observation. How refreshing it is to meet someone else who recognizes the value of looking one's best!

"Correct." He'll take it as a good sign that Lecter can read people well. That is his job, isn't it?

Maxwell, for his part, does not take a seat. Good, Doctor. You sit. Forever. For some reason, the idea of settling into a chair in this enclosed space is utterly appalling.

"..." How to begin? Being honest, vulnerable... it's certainly not something he's used to. But he expects he'll be asked to pay a pretty penny just to be here, so he might as well get something out of it.

"I expected that being cut off from the dangers of my 'home realm' would likewise sever their hold on me, but I find that I am experiencing just as many nightmares now as I did before."

If anything, the nightly visions seem to have only grown worse since his arrival. It's as though the Stars have tampered with his very ability to mentally recover from moments of distress; he doesn't think that's possible, but he supposes it would be foolish to assume that anything is beyond their capabilities. And since he can no longer rely on a dapper suit and natural confidence to reassure him and sooth his nerves, it seems appropriate that he seek outside guidance.

He does not intend to spend his vacation in paradise plagued by terror.

"So what do you think? Is that something you can fix?"

it's not often that hannibal encounters someone dressed as well as him. in fact, he's noticed how rare it is to find someone dawning a suit for the sake of it, undistracted from the need of any social gathering. the man in front of him - maxwell, his file tells him - is dressed as if he will attend a networking event right after therapy, and so hannibal immediately knows he'll have much fascinating to say.

" ah, looks like we both dressed up for the occasion, " he says with a polite but amused grin, observing maxwell enter the room from where he's sat. " come on in, maxwell. you don't look like the type to pursue a psychiatrist's opinion, if you don't mind me saying. what brings you here? "

@codexvmbra liked for a starter!

"Not unless they've earned them, which no one else has. Statues without status is just tacky. But mine... mine set the stage. When you see Maxwell, you see magic."

He laughs the sort of laugh one might use when a toddler is too young to realize they've done something foolish; it's not a cruel laugh, but it's clear that the Afterborn is being dismissed as a silly, naive little thing.

"I'd say so. I'm only the reason you exist, pal." Another touch-- this time a poke at the young man's chest.

"And I know exactly who you are."

CHRIST ALIVE.

He wasn't jumpscared, no sir. Honest.

❝ First of all, don't do that . . . uh, please. ❞ He's quick to add, hearing his mother's voice. ❝ Second . . . 'excited' ? Why's that ? Is it normal for magi-ci-ans to have statues of themselves ? ❞ No snark, it's an honest question ! Maybe it is, he doesn't know how all of this works.

William does, however, know better than to tell a stranger which settlement he's from. ❝ South of here. You wouldn't know it . . . ❞

William's lip twists as they fold their arms. ❝ As for history, I felt like I knew my stuff pretty well 'til you said that . . . why ? Should I know who you are ? ❞

There are many ways in which this "deal" could go awry for Maxwell; off the top of his head, he thinks that if he were to use that wording on one of his pawns, he'd ensure that they didn't "forget" him by plaguing their nightmares until they went mad. ...that would be quite fun, actually. Maybe he'll steal borrow the phrase if he ever goes back to his old ways.

For now, however, he'll live with whatever consequences come from shaking the hand outstretched to him. He's suffered through worse.

Blackened claws close around the entity's fingers and Maxwell marvels at the being's strange biology. Perhaps, if things go well, he can ask for information about his guide's home realm. It's always smart to be aware of what's out there, especially if what's out there is in the habit of dealing in forbidden knowledge.

"Is it your hope that we will discover a way out together?" That is to say, is he itching to escape?

Honestly, not what he was going to mention when the other strolled in here and started asking about magic and information, but he appreciates the straightforwardness! He loves someone with enough ambition and reckless disregard to fly directly into the sun. His lower eyelid lifts into a grin, although he doesn't move to fulfill his request quite yet.

“IF IT’S HAPPENED, I’LL HAVE SOMETHING ON IT - AND I’D BE HAPPY TO SHOW YOU! IF YOU SWEAR TOLET ME IN ON WHATEVER YOU’RE PLANNING. IF YOU’RE TRYING TO GET OUT OF HERE, USE ANY CRAZY MAGIC… WELL, JUST DON’T FORGET THE GUY WHO POINTED YOU IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION! DEAL?”

His hand stretches across the desk at that - sure, his deals might not technically have any power anymore, but this guy doesn't know that! Besides, he likes the gesture anyways. Feels natural, and he's not giving it up.

"This is ridiculous!" Maxwell gripes, looming over the star-speckled girl to stare down at the corpse. "We can't even take a train in this blasted place without fearing for our lives?"

Not the first time death has set its hand on your shoulder in the compartment of a train, is it, Mr. Carter?

"That's it. I refuse to spend the rest of this trip looking over my shoulder waiting for a knife in my back. I suggest that the one responsible reveal themself now."

He raises his (perfectly average, perfectly powerless) book threateningly, fixing a cold glare on each of the other gathered guests.

Unsurprisingly, no one steps forward.

Then all hell breaks loose. Accusations fly, worried murmurings spread, weapons are raised and doors are locked. Some self-proclaimed investigator makes the tired-out suggestion that everyone pair up for safety, and before Maxwell can slip out to lock himself far, far away from all of this idiocy, he's paired off with the person closest to him-- the girl.

"...this won't prevent either of us from being murdered, so for your sake, I hope you're sharper than you look."

@codexvmbra

While most of the city had that sharp chill of cold due to the snow and the time of the year it was, it never seemed to be the same level of cold she was used to. So when she heard of an area even colder than the city, Mira felt the need to visit it, to feel even some semblance of normality, if she ever had such a thing.

That was what had her visiting the Twilight Tundra, albeit, she still isn't sure how it went from visiting the area to being on a train that went around the whole branch but that comes with exploring didn't it.

The size of the train car did have her feeling slight unease, reminding her a bit too much of the room she was stuck in on Adam ship. But, she doesn't get to think back to it too much until there's panicked screaming coming from the other side of the train car, people going on about a body on the floor and a murderer amongst everyone.

Like the others, it draws Mira over, to try and glance at the victim laying on the floor, an un-phased expression on her face when she catches sight as she blinks. While it is the first time she's seeing it personally, such a sight was common in the memories she'd see from various souls.

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?"

Well, well!

"The Princess of the Fae and the King of Nightmares... what a majestic duo we make."

That's right, pal. He's royalty, too. Ex-royalty. Ex-self-proclaimed-royalty.

Maxwell doesn't seem overly intimidated by either the glowing in her eyes or her mention of murder. If anything, he relates. He's gotten to know a few humans by orchestrating their deaths, too, after all.

"Is your girlfriend human herself, or just a bleeding heart?"

● "Do you think you could hold your own against their princess? She's standing right in front of you." The woman's eyes glowed as mana swelled within her. She was just trying to spook him a little, and she wasn't exactly the princess anymore. That timeline didn't even exist now.

What she said next probably didn't help her case though. It was his fault for asking about it!

"Does killing them count as knowing them by your definition? I guess you could say I work for some now, at least back where I come from. Not really into killing them these days, though. My girlfriend wouldn't like that."

happy haloween!!

Is he here to perform? He hadn't thought about it; he had simply been wandering through town, carefree, until he had found somewhere that caught his eye. Naturally, that had been somewhere with a stage.

"I don't have any of my usual gear, unfortunately..."

But he doesn't need his Codex or props to wow an audience. He's the Amazing Maxwell! All he needs is his charm and some playing cards, and he has both of those in spades.

"But as a matter of fact, yes, I think I will perform. Once you've completed your lesson, of course. Are you a professional tutor, madame?"

(Her friends go ignored for the moment, all attention on Anne.)

Maria scoots to the side when the stranger sits next to her. She's still giving him a dirty look.

Anne seems more appreciative of the new audience member. "Aw, thank you!" she says with a smile and a curtsy.

"Yep, these are my friends!" she answers for them. "Are you here to perform, or you just droppin' by?"

Maria eases up on the glaring, though she keeps her arms crossed. Pearl smiles slightly, and Umbra nods in greeting. (Mister Blue, still standing by Maria's side, simply waves his tail and snorts.)