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No title.
(2013-01-18 - Now)
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Maximilien Maximilien Amadeus Renaud-Sylvianne has had an...interesting couple days. After his heist of the Dusk Shard and the follow-up failed heist by a mysterious group of bad guys, he'd gone back to find out clues, where he'd been ambushed by Cirra Constantine - one of the two objects of his affection and easily the more zealous of the two. Then, when Emi Dennou had arrived, Max had wound up thoroughly exposed, forced to make a deal involving the Dusk Shard...or possibly risk his life against Cirra and the greater forces of Archadia pursuing him over an item he might need for a higher purpose.

But right now - right now - he's resting. Max sits in the TDA's new building, his legs crossed, fingering a piece of expensive-looking magicite in hand. It is, in fact, the Goddess Magicite - the very object Cirra desired so badly. He turns it over and over between his fingers, focusing heavily on the object; over this, he might have to start a war.

"C'est la vie," Max mumbles to himself as he toys with the shard. "C'est la vie...
Emi Dennou What would drive a pacifist to risk a war over a trinket? That's the question that has been running through Emi's head over the past while. Nevertheless, without truly knowing Max's history, it's hard to know what could make him so willing to risk it. She can only hope that in those days that he has been given that he can figure out whether or not it'll suit his needs. Indeed, considering he said nothing would stop him if it DID...

Well, fretting over what ifs is not neccessary. Patience and maybe an answer will reveal itself.

For now though, Emi is actually later to return than Max, stepping inside from downstairs after having done some looking around in Rabanastre, possibly with a certain Hobolord. She looks up upon spotting Max--if he doesn't hide away the shard quickly, she'll also give that a look but neglect to comment for the moment.

"The Network apologizes again for the trouble." She sighs. "...But we are glad you are safe."
Maximilien "You caused me no trouble, petite," Max replies idly. He doesn't look up at her, still staring at the shard - why would he hide what everyone in the TDA already knew he had in hand? - carefully. The light flickers around it like it's being captured by it, and even to the touch it feels strange, like a roadblock, something holding him away from his powers as a mage. It was disconcerting, unsettling, in a way that it had no right to be, but that didn't actually tell him if it would help him - merely that it was a thing that might cause him trouble.

Finally, Max heaves a sigh, disappearing the Magicite back into his tuxedo and looking up with a smile. He gestures for her to come over to the chair he's sitting in, then steeples his fingers in front of his chest, tapping them together in his usual habitual manner. "You could not have caused me trouble; after all, she already knew it was me underneath by her own admission. Do not trouble yourself, oui? We will work on...ah...concealing the truth in the future, I think. For now, though..."

Max pats the arm of the chair. "Tell me about this dream of yours, petite. You said that I was in it...? It must have spooked you fiercely, and that is very much more important right now than you feeling bad about something that was in no way your fault."
Emi Dennou Emi is still nonetheless surprised that Max is just holding onto it here. She supposes, of course, that that's a lot easier way to keep track of a small object of power than leaving it in a crate somewhere. Sometimes on your person IS the safest place. Especially when nobody thinks it'll be on your person.

She nods simply enough to Max's statement and moves to sit down nearby. It still troubles her, even though she managed to banish a lot of the trouble through shenanigans and actually seeing Max.

"It was the dream with the train again. The Network supposes it is a dream of a train that Shida was meant to board before Isaac Hanlon made the deal with Hades. The Entire Network was there. That is to say, the entire living network." She looks up and towards Max. "I left our room, I was in those ghost robes and..." She frowns. "Mercade was in a mirror. you know how he was saved by that frying pan? Well, he was talking about how much of a close call it was, he was covered in his own blood. Said our other sisters were waiting for us."

She shakes her head. "Not very much like Mercade, this one supposes. NEvertheless, shortly thereafter we bumped into you. You were dressed as...a conductor? And you said you came to steal me from the train."

She frowns. "But of course, you could not. I remember the story. Your hands slipped through me. You opened your eyes, and they were black."

She looks down. "...We thought, maybe, in the confines of the dream, that you had thusly been taken by the Train."
Maximilien Basically accurate - it's much, much, much harder to steal from a thief than it is to steal from a thief's warehouse. And Cirra would of course never find it, because she would've had to strip him naked to find it - something Cirra would never do willingly. It was his own personal clever joke, and he was, as usual, amused by it.

Max reaches out and ruffles her hair, as he's taken to do regularly whenever Emi looks sort of upset. His fingers brush against her head comfortably, long, dextrous, exceptionally light fingers running along her scalp comfortingly. They're definitely a thief's fingers, or a piano-player's, or an artist's; manicured, well-cared for, and extremely light-touched...

Max listens to her story in silence. He's good at that, at listening to people; not talking was the easiest way not to slip up and mess up a disguise, after all, and people always appreciated someone to lean on and spill their crappy days to. Everyone had crappy days, and everyone liked to talk about them; it was a basic, fundamental conceit of humans that sharing a burden made it easier to bear. So Max had gotten very good at listening, instead of talking, and put those skills to very good use now. He nods at the appropriate times; he nods at Mercade being covered in blood, he nods at her mention of his story...and then he frowns when she mentions his eyes were black.

Then she mentions that she thought he had been taken by the Train, and Max shakes his head. "I think you simply had a bad dream, Petite. When Monsieur Chronus attacked you, you saw many of us hurt in the defense of you; guilt over that, and over your reaction to your sister's rejoining, likely simply spurred you to react in this way. Dreams are how our mind deals with situations; you were worried about death, and your sister, and so you dreamed about a train on which people you were close to rode, because your mind invented it. It was not real, Petite; I have not been claimed by death. Au contraire, I intend it to be many years and a comfortable life before I die, hopefully with children of my own." He smiles.

"The mind is a funny thing, Petite; it does things on its own, though it is part of you, and loves to take little wanders off with your Imagination to come up with the wildest of things to believe. But you know where to find the truth, of course."
Emi Dennou Emi knows it was 'just a dream' but it's nice to hear the reassurance anyway. She doesn't mind, for the moment, being kind of a little girl about this. It's not as if she has much experience with being one. She doesn't even seem to mind getting her hair ruffled, her shoulders don't even push up. Her eyes, however, do close lightly, her head bowing a teensy bit as she raises a hand and rests it on Max's, also rather lightly. Her hands are not thief hands or piano player hands, and indeed might be a bit rough from firing firearms as often as they do. Electricity constantly flows through her form even if she isn't flashing it out, Max can probably feel the tingling pulse in her hand.

She just keeps her hand there for several moments, breathing with her eyes closed and then, after a moment, lets her hand drop.

"Thank you." She says. For what? Well, she just needed to hold him for a moment, that's all. "I do feel a lot better." She adds. "You are very reassuring. If you do obtain a family, they will be lucky, this one believes."

She doesn't directly answer Max's question but that was her way of obtaining the truth, this time.
Maximilien Max smiles as Emi sets her hand on his. She's a sweet little girl; cute and innocent about the world, even if she is also a terrifying bio-weapon with electrical powers and a willingness to use them. Of course, Max doesn't really have a problem with this; you can't help the circumstances of your birth, only the way you life your life. When her hand drops, Max sets his hand back on the chair and leans back. "I am glad to hear you feel better, petite. Bad dreams should never trouble you; they come and go as they please, and are always unwelcome."

Max chuckles a bit. "We will see. I am not so good a man as you think I am."
Emi Dennou "It is not that I think you are a good man." Though they do. Maybe not 'super good' but 'good'. Though to be fair, Legion doesn't seem to think of many people as 'bad' in the first place. They have expressed frustration but generally have gotten over such things quickly.

"It is proof we are not dolls, it could be said." Emi says. "So we are glad we've had them." Even if they're not especially pleasant and put her in a bad mood, she objectively analyzes its usefulness to her. Emi is pretty level of a person, typically speaking.

She looks down at her feet and adds, "What I do think, though, is that you are an amazing man. You have done things you would not normally do," Summon Yojimbo to cut a bitch. "--in order to help us. So we are grateful, and we do care about you back. Your morality is not especially a concern of ours. You do not need to be 'good' to have our trust, The Network summarizes."

She recently told someone to shoot someone in the head so she's probably not really INNOCENT but she can be rather caring and kind at times. Being raised as she was gives her a professional mannerism over this, however, that will likely not dissolve so readily. Professionalism is being willing to shoot someone in the face for a soldier, but not enjoying shooting someone in the face.
Maximilien "You are certainly not a doll," Max agrees after a moment. "You are most assuredly a real person, with hopes and dreams and desires all your own, and no one can ever take that from you, no matter how hard you try."

Still, his face takes on a wispy, wistful look as she mentions that she thinks he's an amazing man. His eyes are sort of distant, and a little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, one not quite felt and not quite whole. It's a smile pulled out of a corner...a smile he's not really sure he wholly believes in, a smile from a long time ago making itself known in the now. Max laughs and shakes his head. "I appreciate that nonetheless, petite. It is a rare thing to meet someone who is truly unconcerned with the behaviors of another man; everyone believes that rules and restrictions should be wielded like a cudgel to beat men into submission, instead of a guideline for people to live their lives. It is nice to know that there are still people who feel the way you do in this world."

He can only hope she still feels that way long down the road.

This scene contained 9 poses. The players who were present were: Maximilien, Emi Dennou