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The former King of Attilan has been busy. He's always busy. Most people just don't notice…because he's crazy, and playing along, and generally being good and underestimated. However, he has noticed who he can /trust/, and the list is short. With a plethora of paid spies trying to get him information, it does not take him too long to locate Corvus. The guardsman. The not-traitor. Probably. His hair in curls and moving through the crowd in Chinatown, he sticks out for his caucasian appearance, but not for his suit, which is decidedly Chinese in style, a black brocade with silver piping and black clasps. He also seems to speak Chinese with ease, offering some quick conversation in the language, with a charming smile, to the fish monger, before turning in the direction of Corvus's last location.
*
As it would turn out, Corvus was on the move towards where Maximus was spotted. Seems his lunch break was destined to be cut short. The single breasted fitted suit he's wearing sticks out a bit more, making it a little easier to pick him out of the crowd. After a brief scan he notices the former King and turns to head in his direction.
*
Maximus tilts his head as Corvus approaches him and then smiles faintly, "Ahhh…Corvus…the loyal guard of the royal family." He draws in a deep breath and folds his hands behind him. Its a signal of trust. "I have been looking for you. There is something that I would like to…offer you."
*
"And what might that be?" Corvus asks as he closes the gap. There's never any telling just what Max had in mind. Waiting on the answer he fishes a cigarette from his jacket pocket, placing it between his lips and lighting it up.
*
"I want you to move in with me. I have a penthouse apartment, but it is just me. Well..and a servant. But…mostly me. The only one that matters. The only one in /danger/. Regardless, you should move into the suite so that I do not have to fret about Nexus and Karnak interrupting and destroying my valuable work, like they did the last time." Max purrs and looks to the side, then back to Corvus intensely.
*
"I suppose it's the most practical solution to making sure nobody tries to murder you." Corvus allows. "Besides, I was meaning to see more of the city anyway." That could explain why he's getting lunch in Chinatown of all places.
*
Maximus doesn't blame him, really. China has food closer to Attilan than most places. "Good. Then…let me show you your new home…away from home, that is. The second palace, as palacial as they get in this polluted city. Naturally, I have invented and installed filters to make the air in the apartment…tolerable." He turns and simply expects Corvus to drop everything he was up to and follow him right then.
*
"I'll never understand the obsession with this city. If the Southern part of this country wasn't so bad I'd suggest setting up shop there." Corvus takes another drag from his cigarette before ashing it. He does follow Maximus, though it's possibly because that's his job.
*
"HOw can you smoke? I feel like I would pass out if I took one…sip of that foul of air." Maximus ponders in bemusement. Its presumably some blocks away, though it hardly matters since Max gets into a car and has them driven to the place regardless of how far it might be. Then, its an elevator ride up in a subtle building. The outside of the building is not as fancy as those around it, austere, even, but on the inside, it is definitely the home of the wealthy. And naturally, Maximus is at the highest point, in a suite that is shaped like a large square, divided up, and walled in the middle with the elevator. The elevator opens up directly into the apartment with the proper turnkey.
The apartment surrounds the elevator and the first area accessible is a living room type area, with the kitche directly to the person's left. To the right appears to be some sort of reading room.
*
"It's not pleasant, but it helps blend in." Corvus shrugs ever so slightly. "It could be worse." Before they get into the vehicle he knocks the cherry out. He's quiet during the ride, apparently content to only speak when he has something he needs to say. Once they get where they're going he slips out of his jacket and gloves, only to reveal a layer of skintight material covering his hands. It seems the man's always prepared for a fight, even if they haven't been coming quite so frequently.