|
  |
The penthouse of a building in New York. Not THE building, or something so super fancy it is so obvious that the owner has been dealt with in non-conventional fashion, but rather one of the nicer of the lesser, with a plump target, who is now enjoying Australia and will be, likely, for some years. Penthouse, so that he doesn't have to listen to anything thumping above him, or neighbors. The elevator opens right into his apartment…that's how it is. The entire floor is not made up of enclosed space, but also supports a generous patio/balcony type area, that has benches and flower boxes, potted plants, a little fish pond, a table and chairs that are meant for outdoors. There are some less-human aspects, for instance, there is a pile of bedding outside as well, possibly for Gorgon, when Maximus feels like being an asshole. There are many glass windows through which the occupant may be viewed, though the bedroom is hidden from the world, as well as the guest bedroom and an entertainment room of some sort. However, Maximus is unconcerned with discovery through the windows and he is laying on the couch, lengthwise, wearing a pair of black, shorts-style underwear, bare chest, bare feet, and his black and white lab coat, as he is studying exactly the stone in question. He taps it with his finger. Sometimes he palms it, his mouth moves…talking though what he's saying can't be heard. Any intelligent observer would say he's likely trying to figure out its nuances. His curls bob when he tilts his head…allllll that brilliance at work to one purpose.
*
Shiny things. Shimmering, glittering, absolutely-impossible-to-ignore…shiny things. With a resonance not too unlike the humming power found in an oceanside lighthouse, the stone itself unwittingly broadcasts a signal across the Mystical planes.
Trust the Sorcerer Supreme to note its coming-alive in the hands of someone who might learn how to utilize its powers. The fact that this relic has responded to its handler indicates a corresponding parallel in powers, Mystical or not. Thus, some caution is in order. An old relic can be tempestuous at times and this one feels ancient.
Flit. In a blur of black-and-white wings, a larger-than-standard magpie lands on the balcony's ledge. Another wing-flit, a tilt of the head, and it moves to a deck chair. The long tail fans out and it shakes its entire body, settling feathers flat. Finally, to the flowerbox nearest to the living room window. Drawing itself tall, the bird looks inside…and freezes up. One very bright — and abnormally light-violet eye — focuses in on Maximus and then to the stone in his hand. The beak parts in what appears to be…a sigh.
*
ROLL: Maximus +rolls 1d20 for a result of: 15
*
The weird bird gets a few moments of anonymity as Maximus plays with it. Though, the play escalates rather swiftly when he swings his feet off the couch and stands up, headed towards the little bar area, when suddenly new bottles appear and the stone flashes green and he is pushed over and into one of the tall chairs. Crash, clank! "Ahh…!" He is definitely surprised by the reaction like he did not anticipate it. So, definitely still learning, but…gaining a new clue.
*
Ever observant, the tuxedo'd bird perched on the flowerbox, odd eyes and all. It too sees the stone's bright flash, feels the surge of power brush out past it, and all of the feathers rise up in a moment of utterly-ridiculous puffery. Another full-body shiver, more elemental reaction than logical thought, and the magpie is back to sleekly-silhouetted stance before the window.
So…the stone itself grants…wishes? Perhaps that's the power within it, muses the Sorcerer in disguise. Gods below, that could be any number of enchanted stones!!! …I'm very tired of enchanted rocks. The black beak opens again and a very human-sounding scoff escapes it.
*
Maximus picks himself off the flooring and looks towards the window and the sound. He can see the bird, its one purple eye shining. He narrows his eyes as he rises and palms the stone again. The free hand curls around a bottle of a bright green liquid, words on it written in the Kree language, and he approaches with a confident saunter. Once he gets closer to the window, he cocks his hips and then holds up the stone between first finger and thumb. "Want this little birdie?" He makes a clucking sound and then puts one elegant finger, the rest still holding the bottle, on the window and slowly shuts it, all while wearing a mocking smile. "Toooooo baaaaaaaad." he sings in two notes. A V-I progression, 3rd to the tonic. Major key. If the bird is musically inclined.
*
The magpie does lean away as the stone is held up and the tease delivered. Maximus likely sees those amaranthine eyes narrow in a very human reaction of disdain simply for the concept of a relic so freely-handled.
Click — the window shuts entirely and the bird almost seems…surprised. Dare it be…irritated? With the window shut, there's no telling precisely what came out of that beak, jarring jeers or perhaps the tart cadence of a male voice, and then comes…the tap. Tap-tap. TAP-TAP-TAP.
The Sorcerer isn't about to shed the disguise, not just yet, so how to get the Inhuman to open the window?
That beak is doing some justice on the pane. TAP TAPTAP TAPTAT — TAP TAP.
Shave and a haircut, two bits? Is there any recognition of this cadence?
*
Maximus can absolutely hear the annoying tapping. He tucks the stone down into the band of his pants, very obviously, and then gyrates his hips a bit. He lifts a hand to his mouth, feigning a 'scandalized' expression as the bird pecks his window. Then he takes a swig of Attilan brandy. He then makes expressions of over-enjoyment, just having a grand old time, teasing weird wildlife.
*
Okay, no, that mishandling of a relic is not going to fly.
The magpie's beak drops open and then it draws itself up tallest yet. A moment of stillness…and then the ruff around the bird's neck seems to flare out.
"Maximus Boltagon, that is unwise." The crack of the Sorcerer's voice is likely heard through the window pane, closed as it is. The beak moves in perfect time to the baritone voice. "You'll do more than bruise yourself if there's magical backlash."
*
They have yet to invent double-paned glass windows, so…yeah, he can still hear the booming crow. Maximus snaps his head to look at the magpie, not assuming it is Strange, just because he's not familiar with his shapechanging abilities. "Fuck you, I'm just trying to make sure you, and whoever you work for, know its mine. Now flitter away and leave the business of Kings to Kings." He probably got the idea to keep it there from a weird dream he had about being a knight.
*
The magpie flicks its tail wide and half-spreads its wings, its head dropping and eyes narrowing. It's a rather vulture-like look for such a mundane bird.
"I'm not going anywhere, you assumptive asshole. Take the stone out of there and come over here and open up the damn window so we can have a normal conversation about it! I didn't fly halfway across the city to be left outside like some — some…" The Sorcerer isn't going to finish that sentence. It's obvious enough. "Maximus. Open the window."
*
Maximus stops retreating and sets down the brandy. He lifts his chin, looking back at the window with a thoughtful expression. Suspicious. Curious. He nears the window, but does not open it. "You know my name and your voice sounds like someone I know, but…how do I know its you, and not some other creature, tricking me?" A black brow arches, and his arms fold together.
*
"Because I have the manners to not blast a truck-sized hole in the wall of your penthouse suite and forcibly remove the stone from your person per my mantle." The magpie tilts its head and were it to have eyebrows, it would have arced one high. "You don't have wards, after all. Maximus. That is a powerful relic. How did you come across it?"
A beat. "And seven hells, take it out of there." The black-and-white bird with amaranthine eyes draws itself up tall and dignified asking this of the Inhuman.
*
The King fishes into his underwear and retrieves the stone, and he /cracks/ the window, though the stone stays unseen in his right hand, down by his side. "I took it from an idiot teenager who was going to cause all manner of trouble with it."
*
The magpie struts away along the edge of the flowerbox, muttering in the Sorcerer's voice. "A teenager had it first? Gods below…" If that particular curse isn't a dead give-away that it's Strange beneath that dapper feathering, not much else will. It walks back, the art of pacing made avian. "How on earth did it end up in the hands of a teenager in the first place? Have you figured out what it does just yet? I can narrow down the options from the myriad spread of enchanted stones known to Mystical history."
It eyes the cracked window and looks back to Maximus, behind the pane. "I'm not going to peck you, Maximus, you can open it more," says the Sorcerer flatly.
*
"I will certainly figure out how to use it if that idiot could. I believe he may have been hit with it, from the sky. I am not a /fan/ of magic like this. I prefer things I have made with my own two hands, but I am hardly going to turn down an opportunity to make my life's work go a little…smoother." Maximus says, moving away from the window immediately after he opens it a little more. He's still going to make that bird squeeze its ass through. "Why can you not visit like a normal friend?"
*
The magpie draws back its head a little. Go a little smoother…? Uh oh. This is sounding more and more like a stone that might grant wishes. The widening of the window to just enough for a bird to slip through is noted and receives a huff.
"Because Gating onto an open balcony in broad daylight is asking for the government to start investigating us both. I prefer my privacy — " and the bird has to pause as it sticks its head through the space available to it. "And I suspect…you do…too!" With a little grunt very counter to the guise worn, the magpie finally pops through the space and remains on the inner windowsill. It flicks its tail and looks about with those brightly-violet eyes before focusing on Maximus again. "Plus, this particular charm has a time limit on it. I don't intend to stay for long," the Sorcerer explains, dipping to eye the space between sill and pane again. He could probably sneak out quickly again if need be.
*
Maximus may have made the exit a tight squeeze on purpose. "I am not giving it to you. Maybe later though. Unless you want to trade for it and have something to offer. Having something you want gives me the greatest pleasure, I cannot express how much." He chuckles and runs a finger back and forth over his lips.
*
The Sorcerer in guise narrows those avian eyes again.
"Relics have a way of making it me in one manner or another, Maximus," comes the quiet explanation, beak moving to emit the words. "It's a perk of the mantle. I'm not here to take it from you. I'm here to ascertain what is it and what it does. If I become truly concerned, then…yes, fine, a trade may be in order." That tail fans wide once and the bird bobs a little, admitting a primal level of unease in the motion.
*
Maximus casts an odd expression at Strange-bird. He draws in a deep breath. "No. You have Wanda. You have countless magical toys, that I am certain you have explored the nature of, with her. You have no idea what pain it would cause me to /share/ in discovery, with you." He turns away and walks some paces towards a grand piano that is sitting there. It was never used by the previous owner…more like an art statement of class, than an instrument. "I will let you know what it does…when I figure it out…on my own, since that is my lot."
*
With a sharp tilt to its head, the magpie watches the Inhuman retreat. A few blinks and a flick of its wings.
"Toys? A relic is not a toy," says Strange, a pique of frustration in his tone. "I already saw the stone flash once, Maximus. What did it do when that happened? Gods below, it felt like…someone poured hot water all over my skin." The feathers ruffle and then flatten again. The bird hops down from the windowsill and flits to the grand piano. It lands with ease on the surface, skidding only slightly with a need to flare the white-marked wings for a second. "You must have a suspicion as to what it does?" Both bright eyes angle on Maximus. Boy, the good Doctor's mulish side is showing now in pursuit of knowledge, which is always worth having. Quite the weakness.
*
"Some. But it seems…inconsistent. I am still working on it. When it flashed just now, it provided me with something I was muttering about. But earlier I was doing the same thing and nothing came of it." Then for a moment, Maximus looks pained again and he rakes his free hand down the keys in a slowly descending chromatic scale, putting space, again, between himself and the bird.
*
"Hmm." A flash of white from wings flicked. "Test it again, if it's inconsistent. If it provided you with an object, ask it again. Wish it. Mutter, whatever you did." The Sorcerer flies across the room and lands on one of the arms of the couch, not precisely cutting off Maximus's path, but absolutely still keeping himself in view. "I have an idea of what it might be, but you are its current handler. You've got to do the leg-work." The magpie hops to the end of its makeshift landing pad, alert and perked, clearly waiting for see what comes of his suggestion.
*
The difference, in this case, is that Max is on a different…view of things, presently, than Strange's scientific approach. There's something much more emotional happening with Maximus's sudden shifts in mood and his non-compliance. "I said very clearly that I did not want to do this."
*
ROLL: Strange +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 48
*
Silence follows the statement and the magpie's tail slowly droops. The bird stares at Maximus, its white breast rising and falling in quick, avian breathing. Finally, after what might seem an eternity and a dozen heartbeats:
"I see. Not the time or place." A bob of the bird's head in what could have been either a nod or a bow. The next few words are somewhat hesitant. "My…apologies. I get carried away sometimes when discovering relics. I…suspect that the stone grants wishes," Strange reveals, flitting back over to land on the piano's shined surface again. He remains nearer to the edge, perhaps sensing that he's trod on delicate feelings. "Be careful, Maximus. There always seems to be a catch." The magpie tilts its head and if the Inhuman looks very closely, there's a sympathetic smile on that beak.
*
"It does not grant wishes." Maximus looks back at the bird and his bare chest rises and falls in a controlled pattern. "It is not a genie, or a lamp. Do you want me to show you that it does not grant wishes? But if it grants it…your life will forever change. So, how much do you wager on your thought, versus mine?"
*
For all that Strange does, indeed, want to know precisely what that little stone does when enticed just right to obey its handler…something whispers 'caution' in his mind. The magpie's head drops low and it walks along the edge of the piano's top. Once a foot or two more space is between him and the Inhuman, the amaranthine-pale eyes focus on Maximus again.
"I would rather that my own life isn't taken into wagering. I'm no white lab rabbit to be subjected to testing." A flick of the tail flashes pale scuts. "I won't wager that. You could, however, allow me to touch the stone and I will test it of my own accord. I could use a cup of tea in…about five minutes. I can feel the charm abating."
Here's hoping the magpie isn't still atop the piano when it ceases to be. Otherwise, the instrument might not support the sudden weight shift from avian to human frame.
*
Maximus leans closer to the magpie and then whispers, "You do not trust me. You show yourself. And no, you cannot touch it." He turns around, abruptly, and moves to the kitchen, "I wish for tea!" No tea immediately appears. His wish is not granted, in that small case, at least. He does, however, seem to be aware of how to make it, because he, one-handedly, starts pawing around for that box of tea he saw. Its English.
*
The magpie doesn't move an inch even as the Inhuman intrudes upon the bird's personal space. If anything, the feathers about its neck fluff out and the eyes narrow to slits, as if daring Maximus to come closer still.
For one split second, the very bird-like instinct to peck out takes precedence before willed away by the sterile human logic of the Sorcerer.
Indeed, no tea appears, and the magpie lingers at the instrument for another few seconds before flitting into the kitchen.
"You bandy around 'trust' with too much ease, Maximus," comments the bird tartly, strutting over to consider his reflection within the curve of a metal surface. "You trust me no more for not letting me touch the stone. Plus, honestly — my life changing as part of the wager? I'm not interested in such permanent results. All I was going to wish for was the tea — and I did not touch the stone to test this wish. You did." Tilting his head, he watches himself and makes a contemplative sound. "Everything seems so big when you're this size, it's odd."
*
Maximus seems highly pensive as he lays the tea box on the counter. "Stephen…you do not understand half of what you think you understand…about me." He suddenly bursts into a smile. "The truth is so much worse." Then he laughs, that smile overbroad along side his ebony curls. "But not for the world." His face falls to neutral again. "Just for me. The stone is no trouble in my hand."
*
Maximus is given a searching look by the magpie.
"Is the truth that much worse…? However, I'll have you know that magical stones are always trouble. At least, for me…" A sigh. Clearly the Sorcerer has had run-ins with other stones that didn't play nearly as nice as this one has thus far. Hop-hop-hop, over to the tea box, and the bird tilts its head. "English tea. A solid blend, dark…it could use honey, however. Do you have any honey?" Of course he's assuming that the tea is for him, mentioned earlier as it was in conversation by the piano. Suddenly, the bird stiffens, going wide-eyed. "Er — oh seven hells, ack!" With a sudden spastic flutter of wings that leaves a single black feather on the countertop, the magpie flies towards the open space of the living room. A flash of light, the sensation of the air blowing outwards to rush along any bared skin with the caress of eider-down and thin air of high-altitude clouds, and there's the Sorcerer himself, back in his own skin. A single tumble to land him stomach-down on the penthouse floor and Strange groans into the carpet. Dressed in white button-down and black dress pants as usual, he's as monochrome as the earlier disguise. Pushing himself into a woozy sit, he grimaces and puts a hand against his head, long legs sprawled out before him.
"Gods below, I didn't think it would be that fast," he grumbles, referring to the change-back.
*
ROLL: Maximus +rolls 1d20 for a result of: 4
*
The stare is long, watching the whole transformation, until the human form is sprawled out in the living room, then sitting there. He unfolds his hand with the stone, looking down at its innocent form and he takes a deep breath. There is a swallow and then he closes his eyes. Then clasping it in both hands, he brings them folded to his lips and whispers. The stone reacts, this time, again, but oddly. A flash of green appears, but it doesn't push Maximus back, and it rolls like a wave from the source, hitting the floor, tumbling and turning and washing over Strange. For the stone at this strength, it cannot break through Strange's wards, but there would be the sense of small voices outside a window, saying nice things about Maximus. Pleasant thoughts about the former King have form, but cannot gain hold, and fade away along with the green.
*
With eyes shut against the swirl of an inner ear still realigning, Strange isn't privy to the actions of the Inhuman royal. His skin suddenly prickles as if reacting full-body to a sudden primal realization before an alternating swathe of heat is followed by chill. A faint gasp marks the sudden influx of a passing daydream before closed lids: mantles combined to great success and succor, black on white on skin, laughter in a time of peace. It vanishes as quickly as it came on, flighty imagination gone to the clouds. Giving his head a sharp shake, the Sorcerer blinks a few times, trying to clear his blurry vision.
A laugh escapes him followed by another grimace. "I won't be trying that spell again. Ungh," and he carefully makes his way standing upright. One last weave in place and then he's steady. Maximus is given a small, almost wary smile. "Actually, never mind the tea. I've infringed on your privacy enough for today. Still…let me know what you discover about the stone…please," he adds belatedly, as if remembering manners.
*
Maximus picks up the tea box and without even looking at its destination, throws it into the glass door. It just makes a harmless, soft, pth sound, and then falls to the ground. "I will let you know." He answers to the wizard who is oblivious for once in his life.
*
Strange watches the arc of the tea box, its impact and its consequent near-soundless impact to the ground. With hands in his pockets, he glances up from the spilled tea satchets and both eyebrows rise moderately.
"At least it wasn't a glass of liquor this time." Perhaps the royal will remember the Sorcerer's reaction to the crystal highball tumbler simply dropped from the balcony at a party so many months back. "And thank you, Maximus. I appreciate any information you can give me." One scarred hand appears and with a lazy circling of his fingers, he draws open a Gate upon the Loft of the Sanctum. The saunter through the crackling oculus pauses just before it and Maximus is subjected to one last searching look from a pair of keen steel-blues. "Be careful."
With that, the Sorcerer is gone, the rift in reality closes, and Maximus is left to his stone that, for the moment, resides outside of his pants.
And one single black magpie feather.
*