1963-12-19 - Mystery and Madness
Summary: Jean-Philippe and Maximus trade tragic stories over an orange in Mutant Town.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
fantomex maximus 

Its night. Late. Good people have gone home. The world is left to the weird, the drunk, the foolish and the bad. All are present in the downtown of Mutant Town at this time of the night. There's a quirky and disturbing street fair going on. There are vendors selling beef jerky next to fruits, next to umbrellas…then there are vendors selling lotions for scaled skin, ointments for the problems that only mutants have. There's a clown. Probably a clown. Or someone just has an unfortunate mutation. Lilting 60s trance-like music echos from a live band of misfits. Its weird. Its like a trip. And Maximus is there, wearing a fur coat, and red lips to go with his black mustache, in a confusing pairing.

Fantomex is out of costume, more or less. He wears a nice pair of black Italian shoes, black trousers, a light blue dress shirt, a navy blue tie with subtle red and yellow patterns in a muted tone, and a very long navy blue winter coat. It conceals everything from his neck to his calves. He has black gloves on. And over his face, he wears his customary white mask, with rigid plates inside, giving it a somewhat blocky look. But if not for the mask, he'd look well dress, far too well dressed for this area.

He walked with a folded up umbrella, using it as if it were a cane. It was the only noise hitting the pavement, as his feet were unusually quiet against the surface. He stopped to look at one of the vendors, picking up an orange, which he gave a gentle squeeze. He palmed it, and in the same fluid motion, reached for his wallet, and paid for it. Once the exchange was complete, he hooked the umbrella over his arm, withdrew a small knife from his coat, and began to peel it as he walked. He was taking the peel off in one go.

"Now, a man in a mask is one of three things… extremely good looking and possibly famous, trying to not be recognised by their family or friends… or a tragedy." There comes an elegant and flirtatious voice from nearby, and the man in the fur coat cocks his head and purses his lips, steel eyes staring at the orange-peeler. What he's up to around here isn't obvious.

"Or perhaps, it is all three," comes a curiously French voice. The accent would suggest Paris. And if one were very good at reading them, it's a fake. Fantomex continues to peel his orange, and when he is done, he lifts his mask enough to expose his lips, chin, but not his nose. He slips a wedge into his mouth. "Nice coat."

Maximus has an implacable accent. Entirely unique. To nowhere humans have gone. But, to the untravelled, it would seem British. He's not travelled enough to recognise a fake accent, so the man seems French enough to him. "Thank you, it was a gift." Maximus smiles over broadly. "So, tell me, tragedy. What happened to you that is so tragic?" He narrows his eyes and his voice has a tone of challenge to it.

Actually being British, Fantomex is fairly certain that Maximus is not. He's well travelled and good with accents. He just likes to be French because it annoys people. Plus, he loves to swear in French. It's like wiping his bottom with silk. "What happened to me that was so tragic? Shall we start with this week, or from the beginning?" He had another wedge of the orange, and was considerate enough to offer one to Maximus, "you may call me Jean-Philippe. What is your name?"

"Maximus." The former king extends his hand. He has gloves on. It's cold after all, but he takes the sliver of orange and sucks on it. "Jean-Philippe. Are you experiencing a tragedy every week? I wish the tragedy that /defines/ all the rest of your tragedies. The one that made you put on the mask in the first place."

It was strange, having this conversation with a complete stranger, but it was the Christmas season. There were even some carollers nearby singing the Drummer Boy. Jean-Philippe decided to be more open than he would usually, "I left a group that would dearly love to see me return, and if not, then to see me dead. But what of you, Maximus? What brings you here on this cold winter's night?"

"Mmmm." he muses, taking a few steps as he finally eats the orange slice, without messing up his lipstick. "Similar… except that I would love to return, and my group will not have me any longer. So, you have escaped, and I have been shoved, and we meet on this street. Do you work?"

"As infrequently as possible," he remarks in a completely deadpan manner. "I've never allowed that to stop me. If they will not have you, then you have work to do. No matter what the damage, bridges can always be rebuilt with the proper use of skill, timing, and thought. What do you do, Maximus?"

That's an interesting question! "I am… a builder. Without something too specific to build, I find myself… interested in new opportunities. I was asked to /broaden/ my understanding of the outside world. So. Here I am. Broadening." He leans on the last word, some distaste in his mouth. "You are too nicely dressed to do /nothing/. It was why I chose to speak to you. I like people with /means/."

"In my experience, the more one has, the less they do. And I'm okay with that." Yeah, he is a smug son of a bitch, isn't he? "But… I too am broadening my horizons. Selflessness," he almost says the word with disdain, "charity," was he rolling his eyes, "and working for the common man. I suppose that I've tried everything else, so I may as well give this a go."

Maximus pulls back his shoulders when Jean-Philippe mentions his attempts to do good in the world. "Ah." He clips it out. "Heroic sort. I…well, that's…." he siiighs. "Not exactly what I am looking for. When you get bored, perhaps I will find you again." He smiles faintly and it seems like Fantomex's arrogance is only matched by Maximus' own. He even flicks up a gloved hand.

Heroic Fantomex, what comedy is this? Even he doesn't believe it about himself. But he is trying. He did make a commitment to the X-Men. And she was there… but no, this was definitely out of character for him. It felt wrong, and yet, he was trying to better himself. "I suppose…" he drags that out out, as if it is distasteful to him, "I am. For now. It's too early to tell if it will take. And, it sounds like fun." Fantomex replied the gesture with his own gloved hand.

Maximus looks over his furry shoulder and smiles. "Something about it will be." Is his reply before the homeless nefarious one drifts off into the crowd.

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