Welcome to Gaia! ::

If there was a few things that there was to know about Maximos it was this; he was a proper gentleman, never allow him around modern technology, he loved to be brutal, and that was the kind of a man he was. But for some reason, in this point in time he was not following under any of these categories. If she had closed her eyes and listened to him speak she would have mistaken him for someone else except for that smell of soap that seemed to follow him no matter what situation they were in. Even the smoothness of his voice sounded completely off. But it didn’t bother the punker, in fact she only sat there watching his eye contact curiously.

"Straight to business then?"

She could feel a bit of the chill coming off of his hand as he placed his hand beside her ripped jeans as he continued to move. And then, suddenly the two of them were practically nose to nose if the wall of cigarette smoke didn’t separate them. A smile only formed on her face as his mismatched eyes were only millimetres from her own. She didn’t notice before, but from this distance she could see every small fibre that created his very distinct eye patterns that came from being a non-Gaian, and quite frankly it was rather pretty.

"It will be very, vigorous work."

“Just the way I like it...” Her voice was almost as cool and as soft as his as he spoke as a small chuckle left before she spoke. As he drew closer to nearly causing their lips to brush, she felt something trail up her thigh slightly. A finger perhaps? Either that or she just received the strangest sensation moving down her leg. It was so gentle and soft, it almost made her smile widen. Izette may have been a smoker, but she took pride in her personal appearance, thus her teeth were nothing short of sparkly pearls gleaming in the moonlight. There was definitely no room for yellow teeth in her world. But all the while, despite how her smile may have been, it never seemed to fade leaving it to be just as playful as before.


"We will positively... make a mess. ”

As his hand traced her neckline, Izette’s head slightly cocked to the side to allow the area of skin to be exposed almost very similar to a cat who was receiving a pet. And very much like a cat, she seemed almost amused by his actions. Every movement he made was very calm and collected as for the average woman with would send chills down their spines and melt into a bucket. And yet, with every movement their eye contact never seemed to break, she was watching him making sure that he himself was staying out of trouble. This was obviously not the first time that the punker had an encounter similar to this. But there was still quite a bit of shock, after all the punker originally didn’t plan for things to have gone this far to even begin with.

"And..."

His hand slid down the front of her shirt, where Max had probably one of the best feelings in the world. Izette’s soft and warm breasts. Max seemed to have done this before as his hand was like a hawk, swooping in and out not even needing to really search for the item. However, finding the check had a little bit of difficulty to it, as it seemed that instead of using pockets like a normal human being, the woman had shoved various items such as her cigarette tin, a lighter, and even some strange plastic squares down her shirt.

SLAP.

"...you'll get paid when the job is done. If its done." The smack from the folder was very similar to having a mother swat a small child’s hands away from the cookie jar as the manila folder landed in her lap with an exiting hand from her cleavage. With the smirk on his face still remaining as though nothing had happened Izette put on a rather saddening looking face as best as she could. However, being a child of mischief it was rather difficult to pull that sort of face as her smile remained hidden beneath everything.

"Money is the least of the rewards my employer is willing to offer you. Open it." As he spoke, the man gestured to the file folder that was resting peacefully on her lap. His hand was now in his pocket along with the check. But this caused Izzy’s face to pose a question, she wasn’t even aware that the shadow man –had- an employer, let alone one who was having offers. With a shrug, the playful frown returned as she took adjusted the file on her lap.

“Oh, Maxi-dear you are such a tease. Perhaps your employer should provide you as a mean for a reward.” A small chuckle left her lips as another drag from the cylinder took place. However, despite her amusement once opening the file her mood seemed to have instantly changed.
Izette read the document. Infact, she read it more than once, practically reading lines over and over again as she tried to make sense of it. There were some big words she didn’t know, but there were some that she knew clear as day. As she held it, her hands began to tremble almost in fear. The punker never spoke about her problems, and this was a problem that she had been dealing with for the past year. Mr. Martel Prechtl had a very unusual disease; it was something that ran in the shape shifter family. Mundanes found that the best way to describe it was a form of aggressive cancer, and the best they could do was charge a ridiculous amount of money to slow the process down. And unfortunately, thanks to Izette’s smoking habits, she was also infected.

"Dont pay attention to the details, it isnt the treatment that matters. And dont get your hopes up. Thats all fluff for the mundanes. He isnt going to be cured. He isnt going to live as long as he should have normally. What matters is that my employer is willing to offer you a guaranteed five year extension, during which he'll... 'Magically' show dramatic signs of recovery. And at the end of the extension he'll return directly to where he is now and live out what days he has left. "

And there was a pause.

The woman was trying her best to wrap her head around everything. Max wasn’t offering a cure persay but an extension to her father’s life. And yet, although due to her past history, she may have not liked the man, but he was still her father. He was the one who taught her many of the fighting techniques and to teach her to be nothing but strong. There wasn’t ever room for weakness, especially in front of anyone. And in the real world, without warning anybody could instantly become an enemy. Without his help, she would have been another little girl in the world who was nothing more than naive. The mere thought caused her to take a long drag of the last bit of her cigarette before flicking it to the ground. As soon as it made contact to the ground, Reginald actually made his way across the floor and extinguished the butt end.

"Likewise, Ms. Prechtl, you will be offered a similar extension. Or rather, a temporary relief from the ailment inflicted upon you when you use your unique talents. No coughing, wheezing, aches or pains...so long as, and for the duration of the time you are willing to use your talents to partake in this job. And then you'll also receive the money. I'd believe its a very generous offer. So...what do you say? "

That was enough.

Now this is where Max probably should have been worried, without any warning the punker kicked the chair that he had been sitting on forwards to provide a distraction. If he decided to go for the chair, he would have been susceptible to the punker’s attack. But if he ignored it, he would be sent flying. As the chair moved, the woman practically lunged at him as with her right hand she was digging into her belt. With a loud crash, the two of them would have been sent flying to the ground with the punker straddling him on top. But instead of the pleasantries of the game they had before the woman had Besty pressed sharply against his flesh. Whether it had been his neck or another part of his body, it didn’t matter for Max was well aware how well she could wield her babies.

But instead of the playful banter that she normally would have provided him through any battle, Max would have seen a different woman. She seemed very frustrated and her hands were almost shaky. There was something that had bothered her about that statement he had said. At any rate, it seemed that even the great and mighty Izette had a weakness, as fear was on her face.

“I dunno, how the ******** you found that s**t out. But I have never told that stuff to anyone. Ever. Not even Ryke. What. How? You better start ******** explaining before I get into anything. Cause, that is...was...should be...none of your business. What is wrong with my dad and me ********.” She almost seemed like she was rambling. Her voice was shaking as well as her hand was waving about. As each of the breath hit her she could feel the sharp pains hitting her chest as though even one of her babies were within her ribs. Without any hesitation the punker got off of Max and was now on all fours on the floor, it was only seconds later still the dreaded cough returned to her yet again. Every bone in her entire body began to ache as she attempted to gasp for air, only to have blood splatter from her lips and onto the laminate floor.

It lasted roughly about five minutes, however being in that position felt like a life time. Even the great fighter Izette had managed to lose hold of her knife and began to smack the floor with her fist. She seemed almost angry with herself. This was a position she never wanted anyone she knew to see her in. And considering that since her funds hadn’t been going to her own medical care recently the truth of the matter was, her condition was only going to get severely worse. With a final deep breath in, the woman had finally managed to take a deep breath in and remained still. She remained perched on all fours quietly, without a word being able to leave her lips.

“...If I do this. My dad and I will both need to have the extension first. Otherwise, I will be nothing but useless...” There seemed to be far more depth to what was lurking behind what she was saying. Even though this may have not been the original deal, but she had brought a very valid point to the table. If Max wanted her to use her talents, she was going to need all of her energy. With one last deep breath of air, she sat up with the knife back in her hand and looked at the man with a bit of a grin. On her chin there was a little bit of blood, but at least this time, her notorious smile seemed to be sitting on her face. It was almost like an instant mood swing, because she looked as though she was ready for anything

“Do we got ourselves a deal?”

If there was an accurate description to describe the punker right now it probably would have been horse s**t. Beads of sweat dripped down her short black hair as she could feel the exhaustion run through her. And yet, she didn’t say anything, instead digging into her cleavage again the woman pulled out another thin paper cylinder and lighter. It may have not been the best solution for her to follow, but it was something. With a flick of her thumb a small flame appeared. With a long drag Izette could feel her body relax slightly as the nicotine ran through her veins. She was silent, only hearing the sound of clicking from Betsy as Max played with her.

She wasn’t staring at him no more. Her focus was on the paper that he had rested in front of her on the floor. There wasn’t anything written on the paper, nothing except for an X that seemed to stand out on the white paper. There really didn’t seem to be anything to this, except for the ever running question if there was a catch to the deal. After all, if Izette knew better than anyone is that nothing was ever free. And yet, there really wasn’t much for her to lose. With the pen tightly within her hand she held it as though she had been wheeling it her entire life. The tip was nearly inches away as smoke began to swirl around her like an exotic dance...

RingRing.

The punker froze and looked up fromt he small piece of paper and up to the phone that had been collecting dust on the wall. It really wasn’t anything fancy, just a black rotisserie phone that had obviously collecting dust. The loud sound of the bells ring only seemed to cause Izette to look at it as though it were an artefact. That phone hadn’t rang for months. With the paper in hand, the woman peeled herself off of the floor and wandered over to the phone. Quickly placing the paper and pen on the counter the woman held the phone to her ear and pulled her cigarette between her fingers.

“Hello? This is the fortress of Brilliance and Beauty. How may I help you?” Izette’s voice was rather harsh and sore, as though she had smoked 600 more packs within the past twenty hours but she was still trying her best to resemble what was a smouldering temptress. Even if it was a lawyer or a tax collector, she really didn’t seem to care. She only hoped that it wasn’t her sister trying to check up on her and make sure she was staying out of trouble. As the woman waited for an answer from the phone line she reached over and picked up the pen while balancing her cigarette between her fingertips and began to make what appeared to be a rather feminine signature. She even included her middle name, which had what appeared to be a little skull ontop of the “i”.

The deal was now done.
As she began to set the pen down she found that her chest began to clear along with her throat. It didn’t hurt nor did it feel like that someone had their foot down on her chest. She felt as though she was a new woman. And too celebrate there was only one thing to do.

Have another puff of her cigarette.

Maximos was as patient and poised as the black cat eyeing you from across the street. His stance was calm, relaxed, but eyes his and the way he licked his lips said something was coming, something bad.

RingRing. “Hello? This is the fortress of Brilliance and Beauty. How may I help you?” Izette's greeting was met with silence. There was a static hum on the line, and muffled voices in the distances showing that the phone was indeed connected to something, but no voice. But that only lasted a few seconds.

Or rather, it lasted exactly until the moment she finished signing. Immediately the black clad man neatly collected the sheet from Izzy's fingers and picked up his pen. He clicked the pen once and slipped it back inside his jacket. In the seconds between the pen click, and it being slipped away three things happened. Only two of which were under his control.

First, the paper began to fill itself out. Black text fading into view like shapes in a dark room when your eyes adjust, only in reverse. Black letters on white paper. Before it finished, a second thing happened. The paper began to fade. Quite literally like a ghost, becoming increasingly transparent until it was invisible. And from the very instant it had began to vanish, it began intangible as visible from the way it simply fazed right through the chair beside the table, but not through Maximos hand. Instead as the paper vanished Izette's signature floated upwards as disembodied white characters and was swallowed as Maximos hand closed around it. It was gone by the time the pen slipped into his jacket's inside breast pocket.

Third, and finally came the sound of an over eager female voice. It was a nurse from the hospital listed in the transfer paper's she had recently read. The nurse was calling to inform her that the afore mentioned miracle treatment was a smashing success and her father was up, out of bed, and after a few tests likely to be dismissed later this week with nothing short of a divinely gifted bill of health. The woman even added at the end, 'I dont know who you've been praying to Ms. Prechtl but I suggest you keep on. Someone likes you.'.

Maximos imagined emotions were going to be involved, or at the very least time consuming medical explanations about receding cancer. And as the person on the other end of the phone talked, he made his way back to the kitchen table. He unfolded the thrown chair, and pulled another manilla folder from the inside of the envelope, tossing the empty envelope onto the mountain of trash that is or was formerly the garbage pale. And after the phone called was over he grinned and very politely said. "I trust your satisfied, yes?"

He gestured to the seat in front of him and cheerily added. "Come, have a seat. Lets discuss business shall we? I have a feeling you and I are going to work together absolutely swimmingly!"

"I do", Maximos said showing absolutely no offense. Instead his smile stretched a bit farther along his face. As Izette's rump hit the chair, Maximos like the proper gentleman he was slid the chair forward so that it was properly positioned as if Izzy was in proper formation for a fancy dinner.

"It suits me." Maximos laughed softly to himself, and began walking around the table. It looked as if he was going to step to the opposite side, but instead he stopped halfway and opened the manilla folder and looking at Izzy over the frames of his glasses. "It suits me rather swimmingly actually."

"We have this, my dear Ms. Prechtl." He pulled a full page sized picture from the folder and flicked it almost carelessly. The picture twirled once, twice, and landed face up directly in front of Izzy. On it was a face shot of man in his mid twenties, he had perfect red hair, a charming smile. This was the sort of man who killed the ladies with a smile, and could probably sell an Eskimo a bag of ice. "His name is Allister Infarious. He's an infernal. A demon. The sort that sells you whatever it is you believe you require for a short eternity in hellish torment. Or rather he was."

"As of forty six hours ago Allister Infarious vanished, and left something of a nasty treat on the streets in his absence." Maximos took a few more steps around the table, his eyes on the folder flipping through pages before he stopped at the foot of the table directly across from Izzy. He flipped another photo which landed discreetly on top of the first. This photo showed a statue. A grizzly old man with a scar down the side of his face covered in wrinkles and hair down to the ground sat in a stone throw intricately carved and fit for a king. Around the man were hundreds and hundreds of corpses lying motionless on the floor. It was a morbid sight to say the least. "Every summoned demonic envoy is required to have a mortal retainer. A being to know his location at all times, and his true name. What your looking at is Allister's retainer. A man who wanted to rule, a man afraid as most men are, of death."

Maximos slid out the chair opposite Izzy, but didnt sit in it. He tossed Izzy another photo. Another man, young and verile with a scar down the side of his face matching the last photo, standing beside the throne from the last photo. "It was a classic ploy. The man wished his affairs would be taken care of when he was no longer able. Allister agreed, but played at his subtle fear of death. The man wished for life but forgot youth. He wished for a kingdom, Allister gave it to him...trapping him in it with mortal servants who would eventually die leaving the man trapped and immortal. He wished the pain would stop...and Allister turned him to stone. And then as promised kindly took care of his affairs and using them began his own frugal entrepreneurial efforts both in and outside of the law. Mr. King is the ticket to Allister."

A third and fourth picture, as Maximos turned coming down the table side to Izzy's left. This was a picture of one of Durem's very tall sky scrapers, all glass and fancy. The sign above the doorway said A, infinity symbol, I. Then next was of a club right here in Aekea with flashing lights that read The Inferno and below that in styllized text All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here. People were waiting in line, drunk, sloppy, stylish, all kinds. And underground criminal face of there ever was one. "I dont work for the law. Matters of mundane justice do not concern my employer, but this does..."

Maximos paused, halfway down the left side of the table and tossed another photo. This was of a child. Izette had seen drug addicts before. Pale, decrepit, gaunt. This child was all of that and more, leaning against a brick wall trying to inject something into his arm. Trying, because as was evident by the streaks down his cheeks his eyes were entirely missing. Instead were two large swollen openings and gore dripping down his face dried and fresh. As if his eyes had literally popped out of his skull. The needle was about to be jammed somewhere in his elbow. "Its called Soul. The addict takes a shot and is immediately hit with a sensory explosion. Its said to be like living two lives at once, and when the high fades one single life isnt enough anymore. So they take more...and more...most dont notice their eyes reddening, drying out, swelling and by the time they outright pop they're too lost to care. Soul debuted in schools and clubs exactly one day before Allister's disappearance."

"Which brings us to you." Maximos had finally completed a lap around the table, coming up behind Izette as he placed the final picture in the folder down gently on the table. This was a picture of a woman, punching a man in the face so hard his teeth were flying out of his mouth when the camera shutter clicked. She pale, with dark hair, and a smoke in her mouth. But her clothing was prim and proper bellied by the piercings in her nose, ears, and one eyebrow. "This woman was left in control of the face of Allister's business. She runs security at most of his establishments, including Mr. King's vault. If Allister has gone into hiding, then he knows we're coming. Which means she knows we're coming. We need to find her. Or we need to make it convincingly appear as if we've found her."

He leaned over Izzy's shoulder and pulled out the picture of the ancient man on the throne. "Through her, we find him..."

He tapped the picture of the club, then the picture of the office building. "Somewhere between here and here, via infiltration, espionage and general sneakiness. I believe that is your field of expertise. That should lead us here..."

Maximos pointed to the picture of Allister again. "...what happens then, is my field of expertise. Any questions?"

Intricate planning. Days of study. Research. Contacts through connection, and properly oiled hands. Intel did not come easily, neither did pictures of people not meant to exist and places no human being had set foot in, in ages. All that was left was to recruit the right help and then...

“You aren’t honestly going to be wearing –that- to a night club, are you? Especially if we want to blend in and not cause a riot.” Maximos face fell like a waiting with all of its colors being washed away, from calm and collected to dead pan and blank. In seconds Izzy found the one blaring flaw in his entire plan. For some reason he had imagined that disguises were covered...but then not everyone could just change their shape entirely and become someone else. It took a heartbeat for Maximos to move from feeling dressed in high garb, to feeling as if he was standing completely naked and stupid in the middle of of Ms. Prechtl's kitchen.

No wonder so many of these stealth missions ended with such a high body count...

“Ugh! I am a disaster! Okay, stay put. I have some old clothes you can borrow or something. Maybe even I have a set of contacts you could use, glasses were so last week.” Thankfully, Izette was gone before she could see the look of embarrassment on his face. Embarassment turned to slight confusion as he slipped his glasses off of his face and examined them, turning them side to side in the stained dull light. Last week? No, he had them longer than that. What could have happened last week to them that he did not know about? Then she was back...and with a mountain of clothes. Clothes far to big to be hers. What? How? He decided not to ask and instead did his best to not let his face show the shock or curiosity he felt.

“Okay, so I got you at least six different outfit combinations and boots." Maximos lift a jacket on top of the pile, it was jet black and covered with buckles, straps and skull designed buttons. Some of the buckles hung undone, and utterly superfluous lengths of material therefore hung down. He held the jacket completely upside down and tried to make sense of what it was, and how it worked. Simply put...Maximos had never worn these types of clothes, he had no idea how this sort of fashion even worked! Best to listen to a master.

"Um, there’s a set of contacts that have never been used if you wanna loose the glasses." Maximos nodded, folded his glasses and slipped them in his inside jacket pocket and picked up the contacts box and held it up to his face something liquid swished inside.

"I dunno if they are for your eyes, but I think you’ll look a lot sexier with them on." Well, he couldnt see through the box. So maybe they were for something else? He had no idea. But he nodded, his face as serious as a student earnestly paying attention in class. Sexy. He had to look sexy.

"I do recommend the buckles or the skulls. They seem like your kinda thing." Skulls, buckles, check. Maximos gave a stout nod.

"But I unno, find something that works and fits. If you can’t I got more in my room." Another nod.

"Oh, we’re definitely going to have to do your hair too." Maximos' eyes instinctively looked up as if he could somehow see the top of his head from here. His hand moved up to touch his signature spiked back navy blue hair.

"How?" The puzzlement must have shown on his face. It wasnt like Maximos was a stylist, his hair just fell like this! He just combed it and more oft than not it refused to stay down. "Not sure yet, but I’ll let you get changed here. Call me if you need me!” Izette left and Maximos left standing before a mountain of clothing, confused and still somewhat clueless as to what exactly he was supposed to do. If she had left him with pieces of armor, weapons, tunics and breaches but this...?

How had this happened? He came here as the expert, the information in hand, the funding, the deal...and now he was lost. Izzy was master, and Maximos was a helpless pupil. His hands rifled through the clothes for something, anything familiar, recognizable. After a moment, the Shadow took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. Sometimes he wondered if it wouldnt be easier just to kill them all. But no, he had roped Izette into this and if she was going to give it as much enthusiasm as she had so far, then she deserved his full effort as well. He may not have had this particular skill set, but Maximos could always learn.

Like a man studies his opponents moves before, and during a battle looking for weakness and strategy, Maximos studied his memories. How did people move in these places? What did they wear? And who of those people attracted the most people to them, and while wearing what? And from that, he did as Shadow's did best and began to mimic, pulling things from the pile that to match his memories best.

After a few minutes, Maximos had assembled an outfit. He ran laid each individual item out over the pile of clothes and then pressed the side of his hand into the clothing and ran it down. Where his hand passed, little shadows and magics tugged out the wrinkles. And then, without further adieu he dressed.

When he was done, Maximos wore immaculate black dress pants, and a fancy jet black dress shirt with skull buttons, who's cuffs and collar he had automatically buttoned. With a bit of flair he spun on a black jacket with straps across the chest, upper arm, and buttons that ran from elbow to wrist. Without delay, he zipped the jacket all the way to his neck and them searched for his reflection. He finally found half of it in a stained pot. After a bit of scrubbing with a nearby length of discarded clothing the pot gleamed a bit easier and Maximos caught his reflection.

Staring back at him was...Maximos Lucillien Dark. His clothing a bit unorthodox, but in posture and presentation it was unmistakably him. His chest filled with a deep prideful breath. Maximos, the famed fighter. Maximos the proprietor of a lucrative shop in Latent, Durem, and Strata. Maximos the HoH participant and judge. He was himself...and that was totally wrong. The breath escaped in a dejected sigh. It all had to change.

Maximos shook his head, and then lift both of his hands and balled them into tight fists. A crackle of deep plum ran over both of his fists and when his hand opened, inky black filled both of his palms. It rolled between his fingers an down to the floor in thick ropey globs. Before it could all escape, Maximos rubbed his hands together and immediately ran them through his hair. And then again, and again, combing it back and where his hand passed, dying it pitch black. After a few passes, Maximos hair was slick back, save for where it spiked partially in the back the Shadow flicked the front of his hair dropping a single curved bang over his forehead. No messy residue stained his skin, and suddenly his hands were cleaned.

Then then he went for his jacket, undoing it and slipping it off entirely. Next came his shirt. Maximos was a reserved man, hesitant, closed and mysterious. But he couldnt be that man tonight, he undid the top button showing the intertwining lines, curls, and what appeared to be licks of flame or curls of smoke stylized and tattooed into his skin and creeping up his neck. Two buttons showed down base of his neck. That was good right?

Maximos sighed and undid two more skull buttons, the shirt open to just barely beneath his color bone. And then he undid one button at the bottom, so that the shirt sat as a shirt should, but if he moved properly his hips or stomach and the markings there were visible. Likewise he undid his dress sleeves entirely, revealing a long slice of pale flesh from wrist midway to his elbow. More of his lunaic tattoo was visible detailing both arms.

Maximos normally wore gloves, but today he slipped those off, letting the few artistic lines of black that ran up the back of his hand and around his thumb see the light of day, as well as the sunburst on marking on the back and front of his right hand. He found two leather wrist bands and slipped them on either wrist. Maximos usually kept his hands free and unbidden, but the Shadowfather loved rings jewelry. He sunk his hands into the pile of clothes and when they came free, he had his sword stones beaded around on wrist as well as least one onyx and or obsidian looking ring on each finger. His fingers rolled and writhed experimentally, letting the finger pieces settled where they may.

Shirt, pants, hair...boots. Maximos eyed the boots on the table, and then his own boots detailed with spell threading to match his own markings. He decided to keep his own. All that was left were the contacts. And for that he needed...

"Ms. Prechtl!" Maximos called out. His voice, if not his appearance matching his usual self. By the time Izzy reached the room she would find Maximos, all dressed and opening the case containing the contact lenses. He dipped his fingers into the liquid there in, and then shut his eyes and began rubbing them saline solution on his eyelids. After which he opened his eyes looking rather proud of himself, while having not properly applied the contact lenses to his all too recognizable mismatched eyes...at all. "Did it work? How do I look?"

He motioned to the jacket laying neatly pressed over the clothing pile. "Should I wear the jacket, or no?"

“Damn, you are looking like a sexy beast. But...” But Maximos found himself without words, much less coherent thoughts. His eyes stretched open so wide they looked as if they might just roll effortlessly out their sockets and hang by his cheeks. His mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but no words came out and as Izzy approached it just hung open. It was as if his mind had canceled all higher brain functions mid-process while trying to wrap itself around some inconsolable concept.

And the truth was, it had. Izzy's hand delicately touched to his chest and while there usually may have been some level of protest, Maximos could do nothing but stare as he was guided backwards and flopped gracelessly into the chair. His mismatch traced openly down her body until he reached the soles of her long black boots and then slowly they worked their way up, taking in every detail just in case there was perhaps a flaw somewhere in the unreality.

“You need a little work. Hold still, this may feel really weird...” Her voice called his attention up from where his deep locked leer had reached, somewhere around her mid drift, and to her eyes. Or rather, her eye. One icy blue pearl of a thing floating amidst a sea of porcelain white accentuated by layers of black cloth and leather. Her smile was absolutely devilish. She was speaking, but he didnt hear the words. He barely registered that her hand was on his eyes, peeling it open so obtrusively. It was natural to use ones fingers to hold open eyes so they dont blink, but Maximos didnt blink. Not for what seemed like forever. At least, not until she right up and poked him in the eye and brought the moment crashing to an end.

"Ow!" Maximos protest, a tad bit of a whine in his voice. Before he could react or pull away the woman had expertly opened his other eye and slipped the second lens in.

"Izette..." Maximos said in the seconds after wards as his eyes fluttered open an close attempting to adjust to the foreign implants. The woman unceremoniously pulled the jacket from atop the clothing pile, and it landed with a rumpled flop in his lap. The shock had passed, but the amazement and disbelief lingered. It was as if the very concept would vanish from existence of Maximos didnt offer it some solidification in the form of a firm action or an actual declaration.

"Izette..." Maximos said as he finally stopped blinking. "...Your...wearing a dress."

It was unfathomable! Izette Prechtl in woman's clothing?! Maximos simply could not imagine it. And yet here it was, and he could not deny what his eyes saw. It wasnt that Maximos was gawking at her, the Shadow could not look at her so objectively as to rationalize that she was a woman in a dress and therefore rate any level of attractiveness. It purely shock that before him was Izette, in a fleebing dress! Sure somewhere a tear had opened in the dimensional fabric and the apocalypse had begun because of this. The really Izette was clearly sucked into the vortex of her own covered eye and this creature was her replacement. This, doppelganger.

Maximos was deep into mentally debating the quandry of a woman with shapeshifting powers, an actual professional doppelganger...being replaced by a doppelganger when her voice snapped his attention back to her. “Wear the coat. It’ll add some flair. You can always take it off if you get hot you know.”

With a nod, the woman circled him one last time before seeming completely satisfied. Maximos felt he should say something, anything. Perhaps something relating to the jacket that was lifelessly holding in his hands. He looked at the buckles, the straps, then Izzy, then back to the buttons and skulls, then back to the black dress. It seemed a lifetime, but almost immediately following Izzy's statement Maximos replied and said. "Izzy, your wearing a dress. You know that is a dress dont you?"

“Shall we?” Another smile. She was having way to much fun with this, but she was right. Mission. Goals. Target. Maximos shook his head a few times then stood up and slipped the jacket on with his usual style and gentlemanly grace. He gave a stout nod, and instinctively slipped his finger up the bridge of his nose to adjust a pair of glasses that simply were not there and then said. "Dress--I mean yes. We shall."

And just like that Maximos was on his feet and attempting to set himself into character. He made his way straight for Izette's door, unlocked it, opened, and then instinctively leaned back against the door, opened mouth, and was halfway between speaking and gesturing forward when he caught himself. "Ladi -"

Maximos stop, his face crumpled up as if he had just eaten something soar and his shook side to side, ruffling his unnaturally black hair. His voice suddenly lost suavity and became more direct. " - Come on."

He said, biting the end off his last sentence and then dispensed with his previous posture and stepped straight through the open door and into the hallway leaving Izette to lock up and such. Lady. He was about to call her a Lady. He had no idea what inspired him to do so, but it was probably best if they did not start this mission off with a scrap between themselves. Especially after getting all fancied in costume.

It wasnt until they got outside and into the moonlight that the next problem in their path presented itself. Maximos stepped out of the apartment building, taking in a breath of fresh, or fresher air, he looked side to side, he rubbed his chin. And then randomly set off in a direction openly declaring, "I believe its this way."

Believe. If Izzy simply followed him, she would find after several half an hour or so, Maximos randomly change directions at a street corner and walked off another way. This would repeat until roughly an hour and a half had passed and they were standing almost miraculously back in front of Izette's apartment building. Not only was the club in the complete opposite direction, but all the way across town...and Maximos was walking. If for no other reason than the Shadow knew on a deep intuitive level that he could not use his boots to fly both of them there, and even if he could that would hardly be inconspicuous. But more than likely because he was at most times the very definition of anachronistic and had absolutely no sense for city design and function.

Without her help they were going to be lost...for a long, long time.

“Max, are you sure you know where we are going?”

There was an immediate pause, Izette's question just so happened to be timed with Maximos' arrival on a street corner. An intersection, complete with traffic lights floating authoritatively above and a foreboding octagonal sign which read STOP, in clear letters. Maximos studied the four way split i the road like a woodsman might study an open expanse of trees. Maximos said nothing. His brow furrowed and his hands rest on his hips for a moment as he looked up and down the street before him. He was silent, so silent it seemed he had missed or ignored the question posed to him.

"No..." Maximos said, breaking the intensity of the moment. He dropped down to a crouch, and ran his fingers along the curb, and then rubbed them together and sniffed them. He looked at the stars, then back down at the pavement, and finally toward the cars which were all flowing to the left. All at once, Maximos stood up and triumphantly and declared, "...we're going this way."

And without a moments hesitation he spun on his heels and began walking to the left. If Izzy looked down the street to the left she would see that exact same tattoo parlor they passed a half an hour ago, and if she had a real keen eye then past that she would see the corner store where they had stopped to purchase her last pack of cigarettes when the last was spent.

“We’re ******** lost aren’t we?" Maximos stopped in his track and in a vehement tone immediately called back, "For the last time no!"

Which of course meant a most undoubted yes. It seemed the man in black had the magic to grant people extensions on their life and release from their personal curses...but he had absolutely no sense of direction in a metropolitan vista. It was ridiculous. Or perhaps that was what happened when you spent all your cool points on the ability to grant people extensions and releases and saved none for something as simple as understanding that the flow of traffic was not in any way like the flow of water down a stream in the open wilderness. Still, the Shadow had his pride, the offense the woman had delivered to it showed in the way his arms were folded and was written all across the impatient slant of his eyebrow.

"Hm...Wait here.” And he did. Maximos waited not so with patience, as much as it was with the desire to see Izette, a woman no less, attempt to out navigate a master adventurer such as himself. He would never have called himself that openly, but the Shadow had easily been on many more campaigns than Izzy ever had! He walked back to the street corner, leaned lazily against the stop sign with his arms still folded and watched her with a sort of smugness, waiting for the woman...dress or no...to come back empty handed.

“Hey there, cute thing. I was wondering if you could help me out.” Her voice was a low and charming as the words practically slithered out of her mouth as she spoke. Maximos scoffed to himself. You cant flirt directions out of people, what a ridiculous concept.

“Me and my friend there seem to be lost, we’re looking for a club called Inferno. And if you boys could help us out that would be just...peachy.” The Shadow immediately looked away from all three individuals in question and with a sort of stately aplomb began checking his fingernails. Izette clearly said her and her friend seemed to be lost, and Maximos was certainly not lost. He did his best to convey this by attempting to appear as if he was not listening or associated with the lost woman and absolutely too good for anything that was happening across the street.

Gentleman, no, men simply dont ask for directions. It was as simple as that.

Maximos was not impressed. She was talking, laughing, and if he did not know that Izette was standing across the street with those men he would never have known that it was Izette standing across the street with those men. Was that truly the power held by such a small length of black silk and leather. What sort of amazing magics were at work? How was she able to transform so completely without using her eye? All these questions and more lurked behind slanted eyes, flat lips, and folded arms of a very obviously unimpressed Maximos that was infact incredibly impressed.

Maximos had been bested, the sympathetic slap to his shoulder only drove the point home. “We just needed a woman’s touch that’s all, Maxi-Waxi. We gotta go this way.”

For a moment, Maximos considered not even following her but continuing to prove his point by walking down his path. But he didnt. Izzy had won the challenge. “So, you coming or what?”

Maximos shook his head, chuckled and walked up behind her and then in place after her. "Alright, I concede! We have something of a walk ahead of us, you have to teach me how to do whatever sort of transformation you have managed."

He pinched the shoulder of her dress. "What is that cloth made of? Was it enchanted?"

The club was a across town, but a few blocks before reaching the Inferno properly, Maximos and Izette would be presented with a rather large flashy sign of the club, and beneath that was a roped off length of sidewalk crowded full of absolutely hundreds of people. While their clothes were in good fashion, a good majority of the people in line looked ragged. Some carried deep bags under their eyes, others looked pale and gaunt, and some were even talking to people who simply werent their. If Izzy kept her eyes keen she would even notice a few people discreetly passing glowing green vials, only barely visible against the night. Soul pushers. In front of this line, beneath the sign, were two men who were so large they looked as if they had eaten men Maximos' size and simply absorbed their muscles through osmosis. Both men had black shirts that were stretched so thin they looked painted on. Maximos stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed Izette's wrist, and immediately ducked into an alley.

"Is that the line?!" Maximos whispered. "We cant afford to wait on that, and we have no cover story. What do we do? Can you charm them with your magic clothing too?"