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Maximos was joking of course.

He was a gentleman and clearly it was a lady who had spoke and a proper gentleman never leaves a lady without an introduction and so...

No...no I'm sure I would have remembered watching you do that.

And he would have. Murder always left a mark, if only because of how little a mark it left, and how much that stood out.

Celeste...

He let the name roll out gently. Testing it against his memories. Reinhart added on a bit more detail and Maximos shook his head. But otherwise made a wide gesture with his hand as if to silently say. "Take your time." And he waited, with eyes that carefully watched the runes in the snow.

It wasnt amazement at first. To start of with amazement would mean it hadnt truly sunk in. No, this was deep interesting and intrigue. Maximos leaned forward, with eyes locked not on Cris or any particular element of the magical array, but the array itself.

This was runic. It was powerful, as only the most powerful of runic commands are allowed to be drawn on the air itself. And only some of the oldest require blood sacrifice.

Maximos himself was quite a rune caster, as he wasnt able to cast spells on a base level like a wizard. At first it seemed simple, but as Reinharts fingers dove into the crack Maximos' eyes widened as bright as could be. This was a rift, a doorway, runically carved into reality. And where did it lead?

Hands, freakish, human, and otherwise. Where did such a combination of beings exist? Or maybe....where in? Where in who, did such a thing exist? Could it be that Reinhart had opened a gateway...into himself?

Amazement took hold. Maximos watched an arm, shoulders, hair, and a form be pulled from void. And before he had a name for what he had just seen, Celeste was addressing him. Formality overtook surprise, Maximos was a gentleman first and other things later. He took a bow, presented a smile, and then very cordially he said.

Lady Celeste, the pleasure is mine. And yet I am afraid I've heard nothing about you, save for your method of death, and your killer.

No need to paint the picture in other colors, that was the truth no?

It was true. Maximos had something to say. Not much, but something. This situation was yet still unfolding, the mystery which had halted their progress was very much still a mystery and the suspense was as deadly as the blade that felled Celeste, in every way. All he truly had to say was...

I see.

And he did, quite clearly, at least what he was meant to at this moment. He regarded Reinhart with a smile. They were both weary, though obviously the red haired man the more, Maximos would make not to compliment him later on that beautiful spellcrafting.

The Reaper in him thought at first motion to squelch the phantasm, only to have her in the same sentence remove herself from his sights by fully explaining her nature.

He only smirked, when Cris realized they need not be introduced, and turned to Celeste as she asked her question.

We were attempting to use Cris' eye to project something other than fear. Something that helps instead of hurts, maybe even something to recover this.

He tapped his shut right eye, and in the same motion wiped away the black tear it spilled.

But you already knew that, didnt you Lady Celeste? After all, you stopped us.

Now this was truly a twist. Maximos was being told what he was, by a spirit, as opposed to him telling the spirit. He was a Reaper after all, by all rights he should be crossing this woman over, right now. But she apparently had value to Reinhart. And so he opted to cross his arms over his chest, and ignore the insult buried faintly in her words.

It wasnt the first time a spirit scolded him for his work. Some people dont want to cross over. They want to haunt their lover. All was well and good, until she touched him. The response was immediately, not violent, but direct.

Dont do that.

He reached his right hand up, placing it on hers, index finger and thumb gently around the wrist and lifted it off. His left hand, would have likely phased through, his right...cursed as it was, it had quite the ability to touch ethereal beings. What was more, the curse within it hungered for essences, souls, life energy, precisely like Celestes, free, alive yet dead. Which meant on contact, she just may be able to feel the arms ravenous hunger. And with that hunger, how Maximos was the only thing keeping it at bay...barely. She was a treat dangled in front of a starving beast. And so he said.

Or, Lady Celeste, I will be forced to show you how fine the line is between my control, and your consumption.

And that was just about all he had to say about that, he let her hand go. Any ill feelings the arm gave would fade, the moment contact broke. The arm twitched of its own accord, twice. She was free to do what she willed as everyone was, but she would know the consequences.

Maximos' eye, shifted from her, to Reinhart, twice. He was silently, only out of niceness. But moreso, because the Lady had posed a question. And even he was curious the answer. He had never hid his nature from Cris. And the mans sharp tongue never failed to be impressive. For a moment he wondered how the man could live with something like her inside him, and if there were more, or worse that had yet to be seen. It would be interesting to see what opinion their time together had earned him.

As she slipped away, Maximos' arms fell across his chest. He watched, and he listened. She had apologized, and so the look on his face was not malicious, it was sort of blank. It was he sort of creepy look you get across the room from the person you know is watching you, even though you cant see his eyes.

Reinhart didnt know Maximos personally, but they had their fights before he became a Reaper. Before he earned flesh and blood. Before he died, and was returned. After all, one of those fights earned him Chrystal. So Maximos cocked an eyebrow, and simply assumed that Cris was referring to the general shroud of mystery that entangled Maximos' persona.

One could say you know be better than most, Cris.

Maximos said, letting his arms fall loose, and his hands make small adjustments to his clothes.

Some say the only means of ever truly knowing someone is to fight them. And we've several times to our fullest.

His eyes moved to Reinhart, then to Celeste, then back. Truth be told, there were a hand full of people who knew who, and what Maximos was. Most of them had forgotten him before his death.

He was doubtful.

But Reinhart seemed interested and Celeste bowed, and so the Shadow returned the bow, and took a deep breath.

Well...it starts in a place a long way away...

And so Maximos began. He spoke of Aria, his home. He spoke fondly, but left out that it was gone. That his home was seven thousand years ago. He spoke of the Destroyer, with respect and solemness. But not guilt. He spoke of Vergan, of the Desert the healed him and called the Destroyer. Then he spoke of his quest, across the world. He left out details summing it up in a sentence or two that he quested to defeat the Dark Lord and did, yet sent here. He left out the true nature of the tragedy in which he arrived.

Maximos was not meaning to be dodgy. He wanted to paint an honest picture, not a depressing one.

He spoke of his early time in the stadium, and finally the return of the Destroyer, and his death. And then how one of his old traveling party, Ruuvan returned him to life.

But the word Reaper. He left that out entirely. Only to say...

...Upon my return, I was given a job, an employ. And tools, like this eye, to accomplish it. And that leaves us here.

The two spoke like old friends or old lovers. And Maximos couldnt help but smile contently at the bond they shared and remember fondly old memories that had swelled to the surface with his tale.

He didnt speak until he was addressed at which point he immediately bowed, very properly and responded kindly and gentlemanly to show all was smoothed over.

May we indeed Lady Celeste. Take as much care as one deceased may. And I will do all that I can to assure that Mr.Reinhart does not join you.

It offensive at all, considering the context. Maximos was actually wishing them well!

And then she was gone. His feelings were mixed about the encounter. But from that floating void of emotion, a cementing point was made when Cris spoke up. Maximos smirked. He shut his eyes, rubbed his hands together and then simply, yet directly said.

Lets.

And he was ready.

"Well then..."

Maximos was ready.

He was poised, primed, prepared, and those were just the P's. His feet were firmly planted, his eye was wide open albeit somewhat faded grey-ish white. But he could see.

He saw the red, he saw a glow flow through Reinharts form giving him his first vision of exactly how deep this power flowed. His heart pounded in his chest, his hands shook slightly either from cold, or earnest expectation.

"...brace yourself."

But there really was no bracing against something like this. Reinharts eyes opened and Maximos saw red, then white, then a flash of black before a cascade of violet. As his eye was linked, the energy immediately raced across the expanse. Runic tattoos already covered the shadows form and immediately ignited carrying the energy in a flow of white deep into him, opposite the Hunter across him.

He nearly stumbled back, stopped only by his right foot stomping into place behind his right. His stance was cemented, albeit some what bent. His gaze never broke.

He saw memories. He saw pain. He felt his own and Reinharts in a beautifully tragic amalgamam. A black tear rolled down his face as the eye was pushed to its very limits. There was a storm raging and brewing between both men. Snowflakes flew outwards as they fell, cast aside by archs and waves and currents. Maximos felt cold, and heat, and a burning drilling through his skull, like staring in the sun.

This wasnt nearly over. This wasnt even close to easy, though nothing that truly matters is. This was just the beginning. They were taking a first step.

And thats exactly what Maximos did, his right foot moving forward and stealing a footing on the white turf, even as it blew in either direction under the force of the violet bridging.