1963-11-24 - Lipstick and Wine
Summary: Amora offers the King of Attilan a charm to help him with his 'problems'
Related: None
Theme Song: None
amora maximus 


The Hidden Kingdom of Attilan is a secret the Inhumans keep, shielding themselves from outsiders with technology that defers detection, and confounds radar and visual ID. Private aircraft and the use of secret teleportation devices keep it from normal discovery. So, in Attilan, Maximus really has nothing to fear. He is the King…unchallenged as far as anyone knows, for 10 years. He's actually not doing a terrible job of it…not too despotic or anything. A little survey of the city would indicate a population that is generally going about their business and sure, sometimes Maximus has weird parties, or goes on a rant about how his brother abandoned them, rewriting history, but its all generally pretty chill. This evening, he has abandoned himself to a machine that he has been working on for too long. This is in his lab, where there are dozens of strange contraptions whose purpose ranges from innocuous to deadly. The one he's working on now is by far the largest, and it doesn't look like it does anything nice. Here in his lab, he feels free to have bare feet, his Attilan attire of black and white clinging uniform and lab-type coat, and he also appears to be wearing lipstick. Whatever. He's the Mad King. He can do what he wants.

*

The Enchantress was capable of transporting between realms, and anywhere she desired within them. Her powers were bound, limited severely by her time on Midgard and by Odin's decree, but she had, by now, several tricks available to her. The least of which allowed her to find those she sought for her own gain. And the King of Attlian, the one that, by Thor's courting Crystal a few short months ago—was not acknowledged by Asgard as the rightful heir.

With the growing chaos occurring else where, Amora was ready to take advantage of the momentary break. After all, there were far more interesting, and important things to keep the Princes and Sif busy with.

None had noted Amora's disappearances previously, and none would note her absence now.

So it would be that with a dramatic swirl of emerald smoke, the Enchantress appeared before the King of the Inhumans. She was dressed gloriously, like a Queen in her own right. A goddess renowned for her beauty over the Nine Realms—and she knew it. Green eyes traced over the Mad King, and her lips pulled into a smile. "I bear thee greetings, King of Attlian, King of the Inhumans." Her voice soft and warm and sultry.

*

Its good to be the King. Lots of perks. Generally not a lot of trouble finding lovers and attractive people to hang around with. But Amora in her glory is still an impressive sight. Blue eyes flash up sharply, one hand still holding the tool he was using, and the other nestled on a curved piece of metal. Fingers slide against the metal, staring, digesting the appearance before him and possibly trying to determine if she's actually there, or not. And if she is there…if she's a threat. His eyes narrow into slits and his lips over enunciate for no reason. "/Who/ bears me such a greeting? If you are a /threat/…I will use /this/." With a snap, skinny fingers launch to grab a small device and he points it at Amora. Then he tilts his head. "Wait, not that one." He laughs softly, and sets it down. "This one!" He grabs another, nearly identical device that looks like a metal tube with some buttons on it. "I really should not have used the same outer casing. But…speaking of outer casings…/please/ tell me that you are not actually an alien with multiple tentacles that has chosen an illusory form to be more pleasing…" A beat. "If you are, then lie." There's a little jut of his chin at the last.

*

A chuckle, light and sensuous, promising whispered sweetness and dreams of satin sheets bleeds from her lips as she drops into a formal curtsey with a flourish of her wrists. "Amora The Enchantress of Asgard, at your service, your majesty.." She practically purred as she straightened, dark eyelashes fluttering in a flirtatious manner.

"I've come, for I hold news that might yet be of import to you, and seeing as I do favor.. monarchy.. and proper order.." A smirk, "I come without askance of favors or debts. Information freely given in the spirit of.. friendship.."

*

Maximus straightens his neck at her introduction, for certainly he knew of Asgard. Thank goodness that Thor and Crystal didn't tie the knot! Dark brows arch upwards and he lowers the device and sets it, and his other tool down, with a soft clink. "Amora, Enchantress of Asgard. That explains the sudden entrance." He puffs out his cheeks and then wets his red lips. "I can tell you that information freely given in the spirit of friendship has always been well-received…and /reciprocated/. Is Asgard finally reaching out?" There's a twitch on his face. "Do you wish a drink, Amora the Enchantress?" He keeps his eyes ever on her face, despite the ample opportunity to oggle elsewhere. Face oggling seems to be his thing.

*

A wave of her hand follows his words, "Nay, Asgard does not step forward. Asgard's princes are handling the recent mortal issues in the United States, it would seem their ruler has been struck down. Some rumor it to be the youngest Prince." Her smile was thin lipped at that, but otherwise her gaze lingered on the King, inspecting him with a critical sharpness that belied an intelligence that many would discount in such a beauty.

"Tis I, personally, that offers the hand of friendship. For I have seen a great many mortal eyes on the skies above and am.. concerned.. about how it might affect certain players on the board, if you will." She smiled and it was once again warm and heated with primal promises.

"Please, darling.. call me Amora. I would love a drink."

*

Maximus is still a moment, lost in a thought, and then he activates again, moving closer to the woman. "I wished to meet with him, actually, as he had declared himself to be the protector of Midgard, so interestingly. What a change." A critical eye upon Maximus, from someone so familiar with royalty, reveals…royalty. There is confidence in his every action. Confidence that he is safe. Confidence that it is HE that belongs on the throne, and absolute confidence in his own form, even if he is not the muscle-bound Captain America standard. There is also notice. He certainly sees beyond her beauty and is not hopelessly beguiled by it. "So…you are interested in…a game afoot? I do like games, and I have few stakes. Protecting my people is my great concern. So, if you offer information that helps me do that…then I am happy to take a stake in your side of earthly games." A beat. He moves to the door and pushes a button on it. "Wine…two glasses." And releases the button sharply, almost with some disdain on his face for having to push the button at all.

*

Her smile remains fixed, and she watches him with that same intent focus that had made many a male weak in the knees. Royalty included. This was a woman now tamed by those that wielded power, but rather seemed, amused by it. So with a sway of her hips she found herself a chair, and smoothly sat on it, folding her legs and settling her hands on her lap.

A toss of her hair with a roll of her shoulders followed, her carriage erect and the smirk that played those full lips tantalizing. "I know where that discarded Princess lives. Her sister and such. I know that Asgard would still stand with her, and her side of the family if given the chance. Currently, the Princes are distracted, but should they have a moment of peace to contemplate such things? They'd march here to put that simpering woman's relation on the throne." She murmured.

"And I can quite easily direct you, if you've not already located her. Also, her heart belongs to some mortal man. If you knew it not.." She drawled.

*

Maximus is suddenly animate. His eyes don't roll. His entire /body/ participates, from the tilt of his head and the lift of his shoulders, all in concert with epic eye-rolling of whole-hearted disgust. "Simpering woman's relation. Yes. /My brother/. I surmise that he /mopes/," Here his face turns to a ridiculously sad expression, mocking, "wah wah, Maximus stole my throne…" Then sharply he is back to himself, nearing the woman until he puts his hand on the back of her chair and loooms with a lean. "But /I/ am King…and it is not for Asgard to make that choice. Or does Asgard pick presidents? Or kill them?" Maximus smiles faintly. "I need to know where they are. I don't want to kill Inhumans. But its time to know what they are up to in exile."

*

Amora doesn't lean away from his looming, or look that intimidated by it. Rather she shifts, uncrossing her legs and running a hand over his chest as she curled a smile and hooked her gaze up to meet his. "Darling, I am more than happy to aid the /rightful/ king. Otherwise, why would I be?" She murmured, arching a golden brow upwards.

"Asgard acts as its family decrees. And as Thor is the Crown Prince, currently, as he directs it in the order of the diplomacy of the Nine Realms. Currently, Odin shall back whatever it is that his eldest son chooses.." She made a face, eyes narrowing faintly.

"But to solve your, little, problem..?" She flashed a grin and her other hand rose to trace over his arm that wasn't leaning over the back of her chair.

"I shall be able to aid you quite easily. A simple scrying spell shall more than do. I can even open a means for you to espy them at your leisure, if you so desire.."

*

Maximus arches his dark brows when she puts a hand to his chest. He lowers, slowly dropping into an impish crouch beside the chair, his hand still on the back of the chair. "I do like doing things at my leisure. I accept. But not in here. This place is for work. Spying seems more like pleasure. So what are you afraid of, Amora? What will happen that I could ruin?" He looks up at her from his new vantage, openly curious at this sensual Asgardian.

*

A huff, and another arch of her brows follows his words as Amora lets her hands fall away with a roll of her shoulders. "Afraid of? Oh my, you /are/ forward." She drawled, recrossing her legs and settling a hand beneath her chin with another of her signature smirks.

"You, my darling? Ruin? I've nothing so delicate that could be /ruined/ irreparably. You needn't worry so.." She cooed, and dragged a hand through her golden locks. A side long glance was offered toward him, and she reached down the front of her corseted figure, drawing out a narrow crystal that glimmered green in the light. She held it on offer to him.

"Think of what you desire, and if you hold it over a bowl of water.. or a mirror, you shall see what you seek. If you bring it with you, it shall direct you to the thing you seek, or personage.. that is.."

*

Maximus reaches out to take the crystal and then stands up, abrupt again. He positions the crystal between two first fingers, holding the bit of magic in front of him with a scientific curiosity, trying to unravel magic into science. But. Crystal. Mineral. crosshatched deposits of this and that. He makes a humming sound. "I could use an Inhuman like you." It sounds wistful, barely even directed at her. He palms the crystal into one hand. Then he gains his focus again when the door opens and a figure dressed in red, with only a male face visible, shuffles into the room, wordless, sets down the wine and glasses, then starts shuffling away again. Not human. Not inhuman. Something beneath. Maximus moves towards the wine and pops the cork aggressively. "You mentioned my messing up the players below. So what, my dear Amora, might I do, to do that?" He is suddenly sharp, his moods mercurial.

*

"Ahh," Amora glances briefly at the lesser being that delivers the drinks, not so much as a flicker of concern passes in her gaze. Nor a whisper of judgement against the use of such a creature. Asgard had thralls and maids and servants. What difference was this to /her/?

"What I mean, darling, is simply that if that would be Princess is taken care of, /that/ means for me at least, that the Crown Prince shall be distracted when he hears of such news. He never /loved/ her truly, but he cared. Which means he will be distraught and unable to cause /me/ a head ache. Which, in and of itself is something I look forward to." She smirked, eyeing the cup of wine.

"And so, quite simply, our goals align in such a marvelous manner. I desire to aid you in your desires simply because it shall give me a chance to enjoy /my/ desires."

*

Maximus pours himself a shallow glass, then the same for Amora, though, when he brings them over she really could choose either one, even though he offers her the one from his right hand. Elegant. Mannered. He chuckles, his lips pulled too far from his teeth in an overdone expression. "I see now. Will he not be distracted when she gets married to some human? I do not know for /certain/ what my brother would think, but I believe we would be of the same mind in this one thing. If she continues with that plain affection, she is not welcome in Attilan. She will have /ruined/ herself for any alliance with Asgard, with such traitorous behavior." He lifts his glass. "Double exile for the traitor!" Then he laughs again. "Are you attached to any humans?" He asks curiously as he reaches his fingers out like he wishes to take her hand.

*

Amora accepted the glass, sipping delicately at the wine therein with an idle air of fancy. "No, he will not. For he has promised himself to another of my kind. Therefore, he will care only in that she is happy and his oath of strength is fufilled. He will not care beyond that. As I said, her death would prove merely a distraction. I care little beyond that." She smirked, and eyed him from over the goblet's rim.

"Darling, I'm hurt that you'd even think that." She murmured, "I care not for the mortals of Midgard. They're worthless." She fluttered her eyelashes and leaned to the side.

"Now, I should be returning to my apartment. No rest for the wicked and all such things.."

*

Maximus drops his hand. "I already have a plan. Thank you for your visit, Amora." He lifts his chin, manner more guarded than a moment ago. "Hopefully, Asgard…will stay out of my business, while you…are welcome here."

*

A flutter of eyelashes and Amora grinned at him from over the goblet, and vanished just as she had come. In a swirl of green lit smoke, the scent of juniper coating the air along with that immutable scent of magic.

And she was gone.

*

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