Like Two Hummingbirds Who Had Also Never Met

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

OOC: Permission for this thread given here.

It was raining. A squall line had become visible in the north around dusk, and in the two or three candlemarks since then, the storm had hit full force. The drops that fell were cold and heavy, and the wind whistled down the streets of Ieffreon.

Few people had chosen to brave the elements on this darkening. The tavern was largely empty, with only a handful of people scattered around its interior.

One of them was a slim half-vysstichi woman, who appeared scarcely out of girlhood. She was wearing a dark blue skirt and a black blouse, and she sat at a table in one corner of the room. A tumbler of Jaedaxian Flamebarrel rested in front of her, and her gray eyes roamed restlessly over the tavern. She had no human companion, though a massive white canine was curled neatly beside the table.

Valanthia wasn't in good spirits tonight; admittedly, this wasn't a unique occurrence. She was about to leave for Primus Gaudeo, and the prospect of the trip made her nervous. She'd committed herself to trying to free Candaceburg and then make a play for the Imperial Throne, and both of those were terrifying prospects. But she'd convinced herself that she had to try, that she owed that much to the People. One could question her logic, but her sincerity was real.

But this state of affairs meant that she was anxious, tired, and otherwise on edge. Val took a sip of her drink, feeling the alcohol move to numb the effects of her frayed nerves. Gods, everything felt so heavy.

 

[Maxwell Passion]

MAX PASSION was not your mama. When he sat around Eunesia, he did not sit around Eunesia.

The man who'd placed MAX PASSION on the boat that carried him away from Olympia had told him, on behalf of that island, that they simply weren't prepared for MAX PASSION levels of awesomeness, and so he would need to stay away from there for the foreseeable future. This followed a conversation he'd had in Secyclion, which had run largely along the same lines, and had included an admission that maybe this (i.e., dangerous amounts of cool) was why Eunesia had stopped allowing foreigners in for a while.

And MAX PASSION was a foreigner. Urgent. Cold as Ice. And, if you ever wanted to know what love is, MAX PASSION was definitely the man to show you.

Two islands down; perhaps Ieffreon would be a more welcoming harbor for MAX PASSION. He swaggered down the streets, looking for an establishment where a man might find some liquid refreshment. Of course, the skies then began offering some liquid refreshment of their own. MAX PASSION didn't think much of it, as it left him both soaking wet and disconcertingly sober.

Ah! There was a tavern. He couldn't make out the name, but that was scarcely important. As soon as he ducked inside, he tried to brush some of the moisture off of his leather jacket, then lit up a cigar. He stood in the entryway for quite some time; as he didn't remove his tinted glasses, it took him a while to be able to see anything of the building's interior.

Once he knew where he was going, he took a seat at the bar. This seemed like a low-energy hangout tonight, alas. Fortunately, MAX PASSION had brought himself, which was exactly the same as bringing the party.

But flying solo at a party was no fun. He looked around the room, examining the handful of other patrons. Old guy, old guy, old guy...and who do we have here? A pretty girl, sitting alone. Part-vysstichi, by the look of her, but MAX PASSION was an openminded sort who knew that sexiness knew no racial boundaries.

He flagged the bartender down. "A vodka for me, good sir. And please send the lady another of whatever she's drinking, with an invitation to find her MAX PASSION."

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Val noticed the sodden, weedy-looking man when he entered the establishment, of course. He stood at the entrance for so long that Val wondered if he was actually all right, before he finally trundled off for the bar.

He didn't look familiar, and Val's attention drifted back into her thoughts. She had largely finished packing, and there wasn't much left to do. After some searching down by the docks, Val had located a merchant ship willing to give her passage to the Vestan coast. Once she was on the mainland, the princess would head straight for Primus Gaudeo. The roads weren't always safe these brightenings, but she and Umbrosus could take care of themselves. In a perfect world, she would have been able to travel with Gye'ron, but they had so many places to go in so little time that splitting up had been the only feasible option.

She opened a satchel that rested on the seat next to her, and pulled out a rolled sheet of paper. Val unrolled the paper onto the table; it was a map of Centripax, which she'd copied at the library from the map that the librarian assured her was the most recent one available. The princess wasn't a trained draftsman, and her copy was a little wobbly, but it was enough to give her at least a general idea where it was that she was going.

Val was measuring the distance from Zerdargia to Primus Gaudeo when another glass was placed in front of her. She looked up sharply, to find the lanky form of the bartender in front of her.

"I...I don't think I...ordered anything else?" The half-vysstichi woman sounded more puzzled than anything. She looked down at her original cup, which still had a sip or two in it. "I...I guess I'm almost done with...with this one, if you...give me a moment."

Val knocked the rest of the drink back, but the bartender just shrugged. "From the gentleman at the bar," he said, unable to keep from rolling his eyes. "Says you should find your MAX PASSION. Whatever that means." Having done his duty, he headed back to his post at the bar.

Val looked reflexively over to the bar, where the weedy fellow was sitting. Find the what now? Was this....was this some kind of religious thing? Val's theological studies hadn't lasted long enough for her to become an expert in Cults of Eunesia, sadly. She'd probably have to actually talk to him to know what the tenets of the Northern Orthodox Church of MAX'S PASSION included.

 

[Maxwell Passion]

He saw the grey chick talk to the bartender, and then look over at him. That was his cue. The lady knew that he'd sent her the drink, and no doubt was thinking of all the other things he could give her, and the heights of ecstasy that could be achieved now that she'd finally found MAX PASSION.

He wiggled his eyebrows a couple times, then grabbed his own drink off the bar. It was showtime.

This establishment seemed to be peculiarly badly lit, and a couple of chairs and tables would also know the touch of MAX PASSION as he made his way over to the woman with the wolf. But none of this touched his patina of pure pizzazz.

When he reached the table, he nodded. "A good darkening to you, m'lady," he said expansively. This was punctuated by a wink, but the darkness of the eyeglasses that MAX PASSION was wearing meant that this gesture might not convey his meaning as well as he might have liked. But when everything about a man communicates sheer, electric charisma, a single missed piece of physical punctuation likely wouldn't be missed.

He waved a hand in the direction of the white canine. "I see you like to live dangerously. Well, living dangerously is my middle name. As for my other appellations, you may refer to me as MAX PASSION."

He didn't say anything else here. Better to wait and evaluate the impression that his not-to-be-trifled-with name made on her. He wasn't quite sure how well known he was in Ieffreon, or whether John Q. Public knew of his feats of daring and amazement just yet. But it was worth seeing if his reputation preceded him.

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

If anything, having Umbrosus around meant that Val was living significantly less dangerously than had been the case before. Brigands, highwaymen, and cutpurses tended to give a wide berth to the sad-eyed woman and her gigantic, sharp-toothed canine. Not that she expected this fellow to realize that.

He did, however, introduce himself. MAX PASSION sounded more like the name for a tool designed for relieving one's tensions on late, lonely darkenings than a name for a person; that was probably his parents' fault, but no one had a crossbow to his head making him introduce himself like that.

"I'm Val," the princess said. Strangers hitting on her in a tavern weren't going to get her full first name or her surname out of her on the first try. Especially not strangers whose glasses were so dark that they might as well have been made of coal.

"Well...MR. PASSION...since we're here -- don't you have difficulty navigating with those glasses on, in the darkening, inside of a poorly-lit tavern?" The fellow's weird hesitance when he had arrived suddenly made more sense to her. He probably couldn't see a damn thing, especially when he first came in from the rain-soaked street. "That feels like a...a questionable life choice. Unless..." That would be an insensitive remark to make to a blind person, for instance -- but MAX PASSION had picked her out, and mentioned Umbrosus to her. What other reason might a person have for wearing those?

"...it's a religious thing?" Val was unaware of any deities whose worship involved the nighttime wearing of dark glasses, but she'd only ever completed her introductory theology class at Nexus Prime. Maybe this was some kind of planetar-cult thing. Or maybe, given the glasses, the cigar, the acne-scarred face, the completely unearned confidence, and the ineffectual pickup lines, he worshiped whichever god governed Looking Like An Idiot.

If that were the case, he must be very devout.