"You Dare Threaten The Great Maxwell?" He Bares His Fangs In Turn And Raises His Hands In A Grand Gesture.

Maxwell grits his teeth against the kind, considerate mockery of his own habitual greeting to his former pawns. Eugh. He doesn't need pity! ...except that's exactly what he needs, and the very reason he waved this man over in the first place. Right. His pride can wait.

"Do you see any horses around here?" he snaps. It comes out sounding somewhat flat and breathless from exhaustion, and he gives a halfhearted apology immediately afterwards. He has got to learn to bite his tongue around people who can literally choose whether he lives or dies.

"I have no mount. What-- what can I offer you for the use of yours?" Max pauses, then admits, weakly: "I don't think I'll be able to make the journey on foot. I can barely... stand."

Balduran had decided to take a small break from his exploration of the Mistwood- the Castle of the Forest King had proven itself much more difficult to find- and he wasn't too keen on being stranded in the forests during the night. To remedy this, he'd simply pushed forward- right into the Land of Burnt Umber. He'd quickly become friendly with the locals- a perk of that natural charm of his- and they'd told him of the Bones of the Forgotten. As any good adventurer would, Balduran made sure to prepare for a long day in the desert heat. He was lucky enough to have found a few desert carrots. He was told the creature he rode was called Jewel of the Desert. Luckily it seemed to be just like riding a horse.

Balduran let his steed drink at a strange oasis when they both became wary from the heat. He found that he could not bottle any of it. At least, there was a place to come back to if he needed to rest.

When he set out again, it wasn't long before he spotted someone who looked about ready to pass out. A man in a suit- ❝ Hey- ❞

❝ You look like you've seen better days- There's an oasis not far from here- at least not if you're riding on horseback- ❞

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.

BITE BITE SNARL.

...ahem.

"How generous of you." Yes, he'll bloody your bloody cape. Give you,,, a damn difficult stain to remove. Small victories.

He coughs again, wetly, and unbuttons his vest to better assess the damage. His shirtfront has been torn through in relatively clean lines, but is still what he considers unsalvageable. It's not that Maxwell can't mend clothing-- he's rather skilled with a sewing kit, actually-- but it seems like just a little too much effort now that he actually has access to such luxuries as money and shops. He'll use it as an excuse to fill out his wardrobe.

"I don't suppose you'd care to pay for the damages, as well? As a show of comradery."

He snorts and chuckles.

"As you say. Follow me...we won't be wanting to go out the front. The owners may not take kindly to the stains and trails of blood we're making and I don't care to bother with diplomacy with them."

He led the two of them to a side door and out. It let out to a little porch area with only two tables, assuredly meant for patrons who wanted a bit more privacy.

Taking a seat he crossed one leg over the other and smirked at the man.

"Great Maxwell," His tone was dripping with sarcasm and self satisfaction. "Would you care for a bit of my cape to wrap your wounds? As a show of...comradery."

Okay? So why the hell is he asking Maxwell about her? Does he think the King is omnipotent? Flattering, but no.

Max keeps walking as he replies, pausing here and there to raise a finger with every answer. "One: fur. Two: yes, magicfolk are more in-tune, but don't let that dissuade any Beforeborn friends you might have who are interested in picking up spells. It's accessible to almost anyone. And three: you are a product of my love of the fantastical--"

Here he stops fully, giving the young man an appraising look over.

"Yes. Absolutely divine. There are plenty of Beforeborn who would kill to be that shade of violet. ...and a nice, expressive tail... you didn't come out half bad at all. Don't you think the world's a more beautiful place when we allow ourselves to dream of what could be, not what is?"

Success, Mx. Stranger; you've made Maxwell's eyes light up with that last question.

"The Prestige. Anyone can remove something from this world. But only a real magician can bring it back."

It's creation. It's reformation. It's the promise that everything will be wrapped up neatly in a pretty little bow, and that nothing is truly gone forever.

"What would you like me to bring back into your life, child?"

Okay so THAT hint didn't work . . .

❝ I was just tryin' to— nevermind. I was just tryin' to make conversation. ❞ Ahem.

. . .

Huh ?

The fuck ?

William follows of course, without any question. ❝ Well yeah, that's what I was tryin' to figure out . . . but my mom ain't Afterborn, y'know. Given, she's not my birth mother. ❞ This is all stupid. He should let it go, or just ask directly. Why is he like this ? ? ?

❝ Yeah, nevermind . . . ❞

Anyway. Maxwell continues to be the personality of all time, and William has to confess to himself that he is captivated ! ❝ Hah ! Okay, well, I gotta ask ya all three of those. Go in order. Scales or fur ? How's the magic ? Why didja ' make me ' ? And . . . ❞ Make it about him. William is certain that's the trick, just as long as he can think of something interesting. ❝ When you talk about magic, what's your favourite ? Ever. Of all time. ❞

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!

MAXWELL ! PASSION CASTER/HEART STEALER {MAGE, with THIEF traits}

CHARACTER SKILLS: FIERY CARAMEL APPLE: As you raise a hand up into the air, a giant, flaming apple covered in caramel will be summoned; allowing you to hurl it towards any foe that stands in your way. It works on single targets, and on groups. This is a pretty dangerous way to go bowling, but hey, it’ll get you a good score! SUGAR PLUM FAIRIES: If you’re ever trapped in a dark place and can’t find your way out, simply summon a group of dancing sugar plum fairies to light your way to safety! So long as the spell is active, they will follow you wherever you go; each of them creating light in a ten foot radius. SLEIGHT OF GUMMY HAND: Every thief needs to know how to steal! With this knowledge you can easily sneak treats out of any distracted person’s cookie jar. It can be very useful in battle too, if the big boss you’re facing has an important item you’ll need to get through to the next level! SUGAR GLASS: You’re so good at tricking people, you can even make them see things that aren’t really there! Of course, these illusions will be completely made out of candy, but they will let you conjure items, monsters, or even change your own appearance. The candy people might fall for it a little easier than your friends, however.. especially when you suddenly have a beard made out of sour belts.

CHARACTER STATS:

STRENGTH: 3

MAGIC: 14

ENDURANCE: 0

SPEED: 3

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?"

me *surrounded by a pack of wolves that are about to eat me*: settle down puppies!! I only have two hands , i cant pet you all at the same time!!!!! Haha !!!! i love you all

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. ❜

Maxwell knows exactly what that means; he's too ugly to show his face.

He turns up his nose at the other man, considering snapping back that his features are just fine, thank you very much, but--

He sighs.

"No, I don't object."

This... could be fun, maybe. His would-be employer is certainly polite enough to "mask" his truthful appraisal with that line about mystery, and Max has always been intrigued by intrigue itself...

"I trust you'll find something suitably dashing for me to conceal myself with. What exactly would I be expected to do once you have me all dolled up?"

Cecil's eyes scan the figure from head to toe, lingering longest on his face. It's not...beautiful in the conventional sense, but it carries its own sense of dignity.

❛ For you, more than adequate. ❜

❛ You have a good silhouette, so your strength lies in your figure. I feel that you would benefit from an air of mystery, however— ❜ Here it was, his compromise:

❛ Do you object to wearing masks? ❜