Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire [OTA]

[freedomsuitsme]

Who: The Great Maxwell and YOU!
What: Bopping around the ship, taking care of errands
Where: Library, Cabins, Windjammer, Various
When: Early October
Warnings: None Yet

Pick your poison, name your desire [Library]

It took some time to decide where exactly he'd work on Grace's suit. Though the lounge in Bobby B's is comfortable, he doesn't want the smell of cigars to permeate the fabric, not when it's so new and fresh and wonderfully pressed. Stan the Man would have been too crowded and noisy, the Atrium too open. What had sold him on the library was the presence of open tables and the soft hum of the alchemy engine.

Measure twice, cut once. It's an especially important mantra to follow when you have so little material to spare. Old muscle memory finds its way into his fingers as he works, and, steadily, the ensemble begins to come together.

He's engrossed in his work, but considering he's working in a public place, he's not about to shoo out anyone else who comes in.



I'm a great many things, but I'm not liar [Closed for Giles]

It's about a week into October when the magician comes a'knocking.

"Giles, it's Maxwell. I've run into a bit of a problem."



Despite your rage, despite your ire [Near Cabin 105]

Around midday, early in October, Maxwell can be seen entering, and very shortly after, emerging from Cabin 105- Grace and Valdis' cabin. He knocked first, then entered when there was no response... unless there was. Though he did try very deliberately to come by when he knew Ms. Grace would be out.

He doesn't make much of a deal about it, and he doesn't have a look on his face like he knows he's doing anything untoward or unusual.

Well, curiosity killed the cat, but since when did cats care about death taxes?

I'll be dancing around your pyre [Windjammer]

It's occurred to him that, given how food doesn't spoil and the depths of the Tommy Bahama are infinite, he probably shouldn't forego packing provisions for his eventual safari with Higgsbury. He knows the outing is inevitable now- the gift of a couple of very familiar pith hats from Sundries has convinced him of as much- and he wants to be as prepared as possible, given the scientist's lingering apprehensions.

He's packing a lot of bacon and eggs, an odd choice for a field mission. Perhaps there's something better and less greasy that he could be stuffing into his basket?

And our old grudges we'll retire [Wildcard]

Comments

[be_seeing_you]

And things were going so well...

"N-no! Ava!" Number 6 leaps in front of her, throwing the rope wide and lassoing her in it. He'll make quick work looping it around her arms and hands. Clearly, this isn't the first time.

"I'm sorry about this, Pumpkin, but I really do need you to behave for just a while longer."

[decohere]

She struggles against the binding, but knows it's no use. She can't phase through it. And he's got plenty of practice with securing knots. "I don't like how he said it," is her defense.

[freedomsuitsme]

"What could I have possibly said that offended you?"

[decohere]

Just sullenly glares.

[freedomsuitsme]

He sighs.

"As I was saying. Mr. Starr, if you could please add the grounding focus, I'll get things started."

cw: blood

[be_seeing_you]

Number 6 feels like the oldest person in the room, suddenly.

"Yes. One moment." He says as he checks the knots on Aa to be sure they are secure but not harming her. Satisfied that they aren't too tight, he steps away and brings out a knife from his pocket. He uses it to cut a few strands of his hair and let them fall in the circle. Then, he pricks his left thumb on the tip and lets a few drops of his blood fall too.

"There. Let's do this quickly."

[decohere]

She watches quietly, wondering since when her husband took part in any magical practices. How long it must have taken Maxwell to convince him that it was necessary.

She stands in the circle, shadows swirling and clinging desperately to her, whispering to her to leave. Now. This is a trap. Protect herself. Why is she allowing a man so loathed and distrusted to invade her again? She clenches her jaw and ignores it. The urge grows stronger. Her fingernails dig into her own palms, resisting.

"Get it over with." It's meant to be a demand, but there's an edge of begging.

[be_seeing_you]

"How much more?" Number 6 asks urgently, resisting the urge to go into that circle and get her out himself after hearing her voice on the edge of begging.

"You're doing well, Ava. You can do this."

[freedomsuitsme]

"Not too much longer. Just..." He waves his hands, flickering flames of shadow dancing at his fingertips. The stray umbrae clinging to Ava begin to pull away like dripping ink, spiraling out from the center of the circle like a whirling drain in reverse, tangling itself in the strands of hair and staining black the droplets of blood. Those are quickly consumed, turned to dust and ash, but not before the work is nearly done.

[decohere]

It's an uncomfortable sensation, the sharp prickling of feeling flooding back into her body. Ava's hit with a cold sweat and whimpers as she sways, the draining of the shadows leaving her with no energy. Her eyes roll back, and she topples.

[be_seeing_you]

"Ava!" Number 6 springs forward and catches her in his arms, gently lowering her down to the ground with her head resting in his lap.

He looks up at Maxwell. "Is it done? Can I take her home?"

[freedomsuitsme]

He scrutinizes the edge of the circle, considering. Once it's clear that it's inert, he nods.

"You can go. I'll be taking my book back, please."

[be_seeing_you]

Number 6 fishes the book away from Ava and holds it out for Maxwell to take. "Here."

As soon as the hand-off is complete, he lifts Ava into his arms and makes for the door. But he does look over his shoulder one last time as he says, "Thank you."

[decohere]

Ava groans weakly, just glad that it's over.

[freedomsuitsme]

Maxwell audibly huffs, but his expression is soft.

"Make sure she gets some decent rest, alright?"