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

[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?"