1964-11-16 - A Walk in the Park
Summary: Reaching out to Strange in the name of the Inhuman throne, Maximus discusses potential plans with the Sorcerer Supreme in the Park.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
maximus strange 


Maximus sent a note. Said it was a matter of…Earth security, but that could just be Maximus being dramatic again. The Attilan royal also seems to have a pair of tails who look very serious about their job. One is in a tan suit and the other is in a navy suit. Navy Suit has a greyish cast to his skin and is close to 7-feet tall. The other one looks about, sharply, wearing glasses. Maximus seems very much aware of their presence.

*

Presuming the tails don't mind the sudden appearance of a broad-shouldered gentleman from a glittering ringed opening upon reality, all's well. Sporting silvered temples and the usual black Belstaff wafting in the chilly near-winter breeze that sweeps the Park, Strange walks up to Maximus with hands in his pockets. The crimson scarf around his neck seems to snuggle up closer even as another wash of wind goes past, tugging on his words even as he speaks.

"Maximus. I received your message." The curiosity is found tamed in his eyes even if he wears the responsibility of his Sorcerous mantle with gravity. "Let's walk. You can regale me as to how Earth's safety could possibly be in jeopardy." A tilt of his head and he turns, beginning an easy pace.

*

The tails do seem to NOTICE, but Maximus holds up a hand and they back down and back off. Maximus surely warned them he was meeting with someone powerful. His outfit was FAR more blendy and subtle than Strange would recall, all in muted blacks and dark blue, no make-up, hair loose and curly. "It certainly is. However…before I say a word, before I trust you, Stephen, that what I tell you can go no further than the two of us, not even when things start to look…bad. You will not be able to defend me."

*

"Hmm." At first, his conversational partner might be concerned at the noncommittal sound. Strange gives the Inhuman royal a side-glance that lingers. It's clear he's attempting to suss out any tells, to hazard at what on this green planet the man is up to this time around. Cosmic chess player, to the bitter end, this Sorcerer.

"I can agree to leave you to your Fate, Maximus. It's the Earth's Fate that I am forbidden to let slide from course." Dry brown leaves skitter about their feet and a jogger lopes by at a quick speed, no risk at all to their conversation in his sweatpants and sneakers. "I am honored by your trust," he adds, a nicety in societal mores. "Please, continue."

*

"The Skrull are still here…or coming in greater numbers. Inhumans believe them to be responsible for…trying to cause some strife between us and another alien race, the Kree. However, they can hide wherever they wish. Had I not witnessed you come through that gate, I would doubt you. I must doubt everyone, now. Two things, really, are important. Firstly…if you happen to have some sort of object that my brother could borrow for a time, that would let him know if there are Skrulls among his trusted number, that would handy. And secondly…Blackagar asked us to reach out to those who are powerful, who we could /trust/. But just one." There is a morose cast about the man, as if all the manic lust for power were sucked out of him.

*

That news brings Strange's ambling walk to an abrupt halt. Never mind he's taking up a good portion of the walking path, Maximus is subject to a pointed look, one just shy of being able to strip paint in its intellectual intensity.

"I see," the Sorcerer replies, his expression drawn to mask the immediate leap of concern that has his heart dancing against his ribs. Son of a bitch. "I was made aware of their presence nearly a year back, when they compromised a portion of this country's intelligence community and nearly my own secrets in turn. That they are arriving in larger numbers is bad news." He drops silent again, running a hand over his mouth and wrinkling his nose. "Very bad."

That Maximus himself looks rather dour is another accent to the severity of the situation. "Again, I am honored by your trust. Know that I could not wear the Eye were my person compromised or another attempted to mimic me." He briefly pulls aside the length of scarf and peels back the lapel of the Belstaff to show the citrine gem encased in its cage, hanging about his neck. "Would your brother have me do anything besides potentially allow him brief ownership of a relic?"

*

"Of course he would. He seeks aid from all angles…the mutants, Asgardians, Wakandans, the Atlanteans…others of course. He mentioned mystics. I suppose that means you. Regardless…my part to play will be different than the rest. You will have to reach out to my brother, and plan with him, your aid. I should know nothing of it, for now. You see…I am going to betray everyone." Maximus smirks, ruefully.

*

Oh, that eyebrow. That dark eyebrows and subtle drop of mouth, in a betrayal of mild astonishment. The other eyebrow lifts and then Strange's expression settles again.

"I can't count myself extremely surprised to hear that you've got your machinations, Maximus, but that isn't a move in self-preservation…especially given the level of animosity between your people and the Skrull nation."

*

"We need a Skrull to reveal themselves…and I can get that to happen. This isn't my machination. This is my brother's." Max's face twists and he clenches his fists for a moment. "In one sweep, all my ambitions will be destroyed and to the people, I will seem a traitor." He inhales through his nose. "I will never get them back. It is a flawless plan. I have to admit that. We do what our people need us to do, in the end, no matter how that looks." His face relaxes again, and his hands follow. "Remember when I said you could not tell anyone, no matter how bad it looks?"

*

The Sorcerer's long sigh mists solidly white.

"Yes, Maximus, I remember. What would you have me do, swear it upon my mantle? Or can you trust me by my word alone? I have the interests of Earth to protect and my loyalties lie there. I would promise you nothing if it meant my people suffered." He shifts in place, never looking away from the Inhuman royal. "That you take this upon yourself in agreement with your brother is twisted in nobility. Still…upon your head be it. Did your brother give any insinuations as to how I should contact him if I find a suitable relic to aid in your efforts? I have no issue with opening a Gate in his presence, but he will have guardians of his own."

The tails get a mildly sardonic consideration for a few seconds. Maybe they catch the flinty gleam of faint pale-violet light through the Sorcerer's irises. Bad Sorcerer, mustn't tease the hired guns.

*

"He did not…because he has no idea I am contacting you, but I can warn him of the gating. I sort of…walked out of the meeting towards the end. I can also introduce you to my cousin, Medusa, or Triton, certainly. Possibly Gorgon, though you will find him repulsive. He smells." Maximus makes a wincing face. "I am sure I have a little time left before things move apace." He draws his hands together. "Everything fine with you of late?" He looks the sorceror up and down. "Family all in tact?"

Maximus' protections do seem odd, though they seem to be guarding him from dangers, rather than…guarding others from Maximus. Other things may be afoot in Attilan. When Stephen seems threatening at all, the one in the tan suit seems to be the most alert to that. He stares.

*

And Strange stares right back, the line of his lips adopting a subtle curl at one side. Nothing like locking eyes with the Master of the Mystic Arts to incite a confident response. Still, he reminds himself that he really must not poke the hired help with sticks, even if it's some roundabout way of testing their capacity to guard the Inhuman royal.

With a near-feline level of disdain, he dismisses them by turning his attention back to Maximus. "I have little issue with introductions when speaking with your brother as well. If there is a lack of time to enact this plan of yours, I have no reason to drag my heels over names and faces. My family?" He clears his throat and the smirk deepens an iota further. "They're well, Maximus, thank you for asking. We've had no insurmountable troubles as of late and I count myself lucky to draw few in turn with my mantle."

*

The guards do look pretty twitchy, and tan suit gets a little closer. Max does not seem alarmed though, so..they aren't in panick mode yet. "You see, were I in your position…I would feel uncomfortable if I had NOT had a run-in lately. I might begin to think things are getting past my watch." Nothing like planting a seed of doubt to really make a man's day!

*

Maximus earns himself a mild scowl, akin to something Aralune the Malk might receive if she had been found lounging atop a curio cabinet full of delicate cursed relics.

"I have the Witch to ensure that nothing slips past me. If it does, it likely reaches her and regrets having skipped me in turn." The suits get another lingering look, one that slips into an indolent glare, as a leopard might consider trespassers from his limb.

*

"Right. The witch. I need to go, but…if you find anything, then contact me." Maximus does hand over his apartment's phone number…in case Strange ever does anything so normal as using a phone. Then he parts ways.

*

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