The sun is getting low in the sky, and the temperature drops with it. Inch by inch the shadows grow longer, and with them, the surroundings grow quieter. The occasional car going by was breaking up that silence with tires on pavement or bass vibrating doors, but now it has been several minutes since even a single one has gone by.
Ahead, on a footbridge that parallels the road to allow pedestrians over a stream, is a man. He is either homeless or some sort that things wearing lots of old, semi-ruined clothes is fashionable. He has a beanie on his head and a hood pulled over it. Leaning against the handrail and looking down into the stream as he eats an apple, he does not seem to have noticed anyone else. Maybe he is spaced out. Maybe he is high.
It's been awhile since Max has been in the city, but the footbridge leads the way to the general destination that she plans on heading to. Though, she is a wanderer, she doesn't mind taking the path less traveled or the scenic route. The young woman is dressed casually, wearing a simple hoodie and jeans with sneakers, a messenger bag hanging from her shoulders. Her hair is down in loose curls. There's a bit of a distant look in her gaze, paying attention to where she's going but her thoughts are elsewhere. However, as she's walking, she spots an interesting face. An unfamiliar Lost always draws her attention. Eyeing him momentarily, she starts to drift his way. "Got a light?" she asks as she pulls a joint from her pocket.
The man--if he can still be called by such a human title--seems surprised, but does not start. He looks over, then pushes himself upright. With one hand on the railing, he reaches into his tattered robe and pulls out a lighter that has had some of the metal ripped off the top so that it can be made to produce a larger flame if desired. "Jesus, kid." He looks at her as he is about to extend the lighter and stops dead in his tracks. "You know cigarettes will kill you, right? I just saw a commercial about it." He stands up a bit straighter so he can speak with more authority, not realizing that she is looking at the monster he really is. "They give you the cancers. All of them! I mean, we're talking mouth, esof- esuf- throat, lungs-" He gestures towards her torso with a clawed hands. "Definitely the lungs. I'm sure about that one. And worst of all," he is about to say more when his eyes actually hit the joint. He blinks rapidly. "Oh. You just want to do druuugs. Here you go." He flicks the lighter, which flames up like a crack torch. "Get it while it's hot."
A brow raises at his initial response before Max starts to chuckle lightly. "Oh, there's plenty of other things that will more than likely kill me before cigarettes. Sooooo many things." The mortal shakes her head at the Lost. Placing the joint between her lips, she leans over to light it up. A few puffs are enjoyed before she offers it out to him. While she holds the joint out, those bright blue eyes of hers curiously look over the stranger. Particularly the more Fae aspects of him. "So, if it's lung cancer that kills me. Well, that'll still suck but I'm sure there are worse ways to go." A faint smirk touches her lips. "You a local or passing through?" she wonders with a small tilt of her head as she leans back against the railing.
The man is still blissfully unaware that she sees him for what he is at first. It is not until he sees her eyes following the shape of his horns above his head that he, with an audible gasp, realizes that she sees right through the Mask. He stomps his foot and points one claw at her, then two at his eyes (coming an inch from blinding himself in the process). "My eyes are down here, young woman! If I can't look down shirts, you can't look up horns. It's only fair!" He flicks a finger behind her hair and lifts it up to look at her ear. "Not pointy." He goes up on his tippy toes and looks down over her shoulder like he is looking at her ass. "No tail." He leans back, crosses his arms, and shakes his head. "Well I'll be damned. Cute as a bug's ear, but not even the slightest hint of some sort of..." He trails off, tilts his head, and looks at her with pursed lips. "Are you..." His mirthful voice drops as he leans in. "You know. Are you..." He leans in even closer, speaking into her ear now. "Are you... an imaginery friend?"
There's a startle from the enchanted mortal as he suddenly stomps and points at her. Max wasn't expecting it and was certainly caught off guard by the sudden movement. Pulling the joint back toward her, she inhales another puff. An amused expression rests on her face as she watches him, her gaze focusing more on his motions than his features now. His expression rather his looks. Another light laugh escapes her mouth after she exhales some smoke. "What if I was an imaginary friend? We could have all sorts of interesting adventures together. Maybe I'm your like, little angel on the shoulder. Or the devil. I suppose that would depend on who you ask..." She grins playfully at him, taking another hit then once more offering it out. "Well, whether I'm imaginary or not, you can call me Max. How about yourself?"
There are two long, full seconds of thought before the man grabs the joint and sniffs it as if he has already had some and it is causing him to fry balls. Taking a modest hit, he extends it back on the end of one sharp claw with a warning. "Mind the fingertips, Mad Max. They leave nasty scars." He french inhales before blowing a smoke ring. Well. He attempts it, but it comes out rather unformed. "They make that look so easy in eighties movies." He looks at his imaginery friend. "Okay. So. If. If you're my imaginary buddy, why are you dressed like that? If you were my shoulder angel, you would be all modestly attired but cute. And if you were my shoulder devil? Well. Let's just say that you would be wearing something about that size of this," he holds up two fingers a fraction of an inch apart, "that costs half a paycheck."
Even before the warning, it seemed that the mortal was careful about touching him. Max moves her hand in such a way where it would be nearly impossible to accidentally make contact with him. A smile touches her lips at the warning and she gives a simple nod of understanding. She has no issue with not touching! "Maybe I'm supposed to blend in with the rest of the world. Or maybe you don't have that much creativity in your imagination to make me look or dress more interesting," she says with a wink, teasing and playful. Another hit is taken and she continues to pass it back and forth with him. "Besides, I can't be wearing something flimsy and keeping you all distracted from... whatever it is you do!" She grins at him then tilts her head to the side. The curiosity never leaves her gaze. "So what /is/ it you do then?"
"What does it look like I do? I'm a bridge troll." Cornelius gestures to the footbridge they are standing on. "You have to pay the troll toll to pass the troll." He shakes his head at having to explain this. "You have to give me something I want in order to pass. And since I'm explaining things," he says to her with a touch of defensiveness. "Allow me to add that I'm very creative. I thought of not one or two, but five different colors of almost nothing that you could be wearing, plus an innocent white lacey thingie that you would be wearing if you were all. You know." He draws a circle around his head--small, so as to avoid his horns. "Innocent."
Is that a faint blush on her cheeks? Or maybe it's just a sign of the cold weather or her getting high. Who knows! It could even be just the lighting as it starts to get a bit darker. Folding her arms over her chest loosely, Max gives him a bit of a squint before she bursts out with another light chuckle. Clearly, the young woman is amused by the horned Changeling. A smirk seems to linger on the edges of her lips. "I have yet to meet an innocent person yet." A beat before she adds, "An innocent adult, at least. And for soooome reason, I very much doubt you're going to be the first," she points out, shaking her head a bit. Such an action causes a few unruly strands of hair to fall into her face a bit. "Hmm. Alright. So, if you're looking for a payment, what is it that you want?" she wonders as she inhales another hit.
"If I was innocent, I wouldn't need a shoulder angel," the horned and tailed beast replies rather readily. He gives her a look before he shrugs and speaks as if he is letting her in on a secret. "Well, look, you can see that life is pretty rough. This isn't exactly the biggest bridge in town, toots. I mean, I'm pretty damn sure it's the smallest. And we trolls? We pride ourselves on size. So I'm feeling pretty damn sorry for myself. Like..." He drops his head. "Like I'm just not adequate." He sucks in a breath and releases a heavy sigh. "Not sure what you can give me that'll change that."
Max takes a slow glance around, considering the Lost's words for a for moments silently. Then she returns her attention back to him. "Well, obviously we need to find a bigger bridge!" she replies to him, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. Her expression even matches as she briefly places her hands on her hips as she looks at Cornelius. "One more scenic than this too, maybe. I mean, if that's important to trolls. Other than size, what's most important about a bridge? Good coverage? Lots of traffic? Status of people traveling along the bridge? Obviously we got to get these decisions out of the way before we decide on our destination," she tells him with a firm nod of her head.
Her idea causes the man, once more, to gasp. He looks at her as if she is speaking the most radical of all notions. Something unthinkable. Something splendid. He nods his head to each of her questions. "Yes! Damn this tiny wooden thing beneath my feet! Damn it to heck!" He looks at her as if she is his salvation and asks the most important of all the questions. "Tell me, Oracle, where can we find this bridge? Where O Where must I seek it out?" He makes a fist--and one might wonder how it does not cause him to bleed--and pushes it to the sky as he looks heavenward. "It shall be mine!"
The smirk extends into a fully amused grin as Max continues to watch the strange Lost. Though, considering him such was a bit redundant. Every one she had met so far had been odd in one way or another. At least this one seemed less dangerous than others. Hopefully. A finger raises to lightly tap on her chin as she considers her exploration of the town before her absence. "Well I know of a few bridges..." Then she starts to name off some of the more well-known ones around both Tamarack Falls and Fort Brunsett. "Although, depending on what you want from a bridge, I'm sure that there's more around here we could find. I could go to city hall or something and get some old maps or whatever of the area." She tilts her head at him, then smiles widely. "It's been awhile since I've been called oracle."
The man holds his pose of defiance for several seconds, listening to the young woman before he looks down and purses his lips thoughtfully. A moment grows long between that time and when he speaks. "...Can I really pass for a troll? Jumping Jupiter on a Jetplane, I'm getting way too fugly. I just convinced someone that I was a troll." He shudders and dry heaves as if he will start to vomit any moment, then immediately slumps to a seat. "Just put a fork in me. I'm done. I quit. Never gonna find a bridge I'm not looking for, just like I'm never gonna find a dame that doesn't run off screaming as soon as she realizes what kinda guy I am." He looks at Max and points a finger. "Bad boys will ruin your life, kid. Ruin it. Find a nice kid at church and make him put a ring on it and a rubber on the other it."
Listening to the Lost she has yet to discover his name, Max raises her brow at him once more. Instead of sitting beside him on the ground, she hops up onto the railing just above and to the left of him. Her movements are fluid, graceful, it's apparent how little effort she needs to make to get into her comfortable seat on the bridge. The young woman tilts her head at the Changeling, her lips pursing for a brief moment. Yup, this one is definitely not breaking the mold by not being strange. "Hey, I know you guys like putting titles and categories and whatnot on you. I've never met a troll before so, how am I supposed to know what one is supposed to look like?" she points out before placing a lighter smile on her lips. Although she doesn't respond to most of the latter part of his statement, it's apparent that it does cause her to pause and think momentarily. "So then, what kind of guy /are/ you?"
"Me? I mean, on one side, I'm the guy your mom warned you about. You know. I seem all," he makes a strange gesture with his hands--fingers squirming like he is casting a spell, "mysterious, but that is just a fancy word for guys that'll hit you up for rent and leave you high and dry once they've wrung you... dry." A touch of a grimace at the repeat use of the word. "On the other side, I'm a pseudo-famous knight that runs around and kicks ass and takes names and all sorts of other things that I suppose knights are supposed to do. Sir Cornelius Rex. Kicker of Ass and Chaser of Tail." He makes a half-hearted fist and pushes it out forward like it is the climax of a rather lazy motivational speech.
The enchanted mortal blinks a little at his first words, the expression somewhat hard to read. However, she keeps her gaze on him with apparent intrigue. Most people, those with some sort of manners at least, would offer a hand at the introduction that Cornelius gave her. Max, though, simply raises her hand to her forehead and gives a casual two-fingered salute. "Just because I offered to help you find a bridge you apparently aren't looking for doesn't mean I'm looking for a date or a boyfriend or whatever silly notion you have in your head," she tells him, unable to help but chuckle with faint amusement. "And who knows, maybe I'm the more troublesome one out of the both of us," she replies, a bit of a mischeivous smirk. "Besides, you don't seem too terrible so far."
"Isn't everyone looking for love in all the wrong places?" Cornelius's reply is ambiguous, but he follows the rhetorical question up swiftly. "I'm not offering myself up as a boyfriend. I mean... if we were in public people would probably think I was your father. I don't dress nice enough to be mistaken for your sugar daddy, toots." He scratches lightly at his chin, which causes a cascade of tiny, little snowflakes to sparkle down from his beard into the air and melt into nothing before they have gone more than a few inches. "I'm speaking in generalizations. And I'm possibly just a trifle stoned. Don't mind me getting all existential. It's just that time of the month." He once more clarifies. "The time I go to a new place and meet people the likes of which I should probably limit my association to in order to not be, well, attached."
"If I minded your oddity, I would have made up some excuse why I needed to leave already," Max replies, unable to help but chuckle. She shakes her head lightly at him. Again, some hair falls into her face but she brushes it aside with a quick sweep of her hand. "So, you're new around here. What brings you to the area? Just traveling through? Or perhaps something, or someone, in particular has brought you here?" she wonders, her curiosity still transparent. Not that she thinks it's something to hide. Then she smiles a bit more at him, leaning back somewhat precariously on the railing. "If you're a famous knight... What would one of your greatest deeds be? I don't think I've ever met a knight before. And if you're not a troll, what are you then? You guys have so many interesting names for yourselves."
"At the risk of sounding like something on Sesame Street, I'm a me." Cornelius shifts in the seat he made for himself so he can look up at Max more easily. "Some might call me a beast," he puts a little snarl into that last word just for effect. "But there's nothing else quite like me." He shrugs. "What would you call me? Tell me that, and I'll tell you something I did as a knight. One story for one label. Not a bad deal is it, toots? A word or two for an entire story. It's like a Black Friday sale."
"Somehow, this seems less dangerous than a Black Friday sale," Max points out with a smirk and a laugh. Peering down at him, those bright blue eyes of hers slowly roam over his form. From the tips of his horns to the bottom of his feet, every visible inch of Cornelius is looked at and studied. "Hmmm..." She muses quietly to herself for a few moments. "From what you've told me so far, from what you've presented yourself as, and your appearance overall..." There's another pause for a second or two before she offers as her answer, "Intriguing. That whole mysterious thing you've got going on tends to make people want to know more about you," she tells him with a grin.
There is a smirk on his face as he states, "Well, there you have it. I am an Intriguing. One of a kind. First and last of my race. Destined to defeat the terrors that would threaten to wipe out life as we know it." He stroke his beard as he brags, and it causes a snowstorm of those tiny snowflakes to cascade--spiralling--down.
"A deal is a deal. Are you ready for a story of daring and adventure, blood and tears, romance and betrayal? Are you ready to hear how one intrepid youth sacrificed his very heart to bring an end to an evil beyond compare?" He leans to one side, bonelessly, until he is propped up on his arm and apparently quite comfortable.
Max had thought the snowflakes might have been a trick of the lighting when she first saw it. When it happens again, there's a small blink before a look of realization appears across her features. "Is the snow thing part of your uniqueness? Or are you part of Winter?" she can't help but wonder with a tilt of her head. Then she hops down off the railing, again fluid in her motions. The mortal gives a gesture for him to stand. "Let's walk while we talk. Less of a chance for someone to eavesdrop and spy on us," she points out. Then she slids her hands into pockets. "And I'm definitely ready. With all the hype that you're giving this story, it's going to be either really awesome or really disappointing." She winks playfully.
"Maybe I just have really bad beard dandruff," Cornelius points out sagely as he stands. "As for my story... I said I would tell you. I didn't say I would tell you right now." He hops up onto the railing she left and hops from there to the floating bridge of the road as easily as if it were a jump over a puddle rather than a ten foot leap. Turning and calling back to her he says, "Find me on a cold night by a warm fire and I will tell you my story in full!" Then, without so much as a goodbye, he begins to walk off.
Again a brow raises at him as he starts to walk off. However, instead of being offended in the slightest, Max simply laughs and raises a hand to wave him off. "You stay safe out there then, Sir Cornelius," she calls out to him as she watches him wander off. "Although, I'm sure a knight doesn't have much to be wary off," she teases. The young woman watches him for a few moments before she turned to start heading off in the opposite direction.
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