Man Whats Up W M.ax Making W.ill Get Him Food Every Single Interaction /lh - Blog Posts

"That's Maxwell the Great. Or The Amazing Maxwell, if you prefer." Not that he isn't also magnificent, it's just not in the name.

Ah. There's that recognition. It always comes eventually, even if magicfolk don't always fully understand why it's there.

"That's right." Maxwell grins, spreading his arms wide. "Putting two and two together, now, are we?"

That would make one of them, because Max has to admit he's a liiiiittle confused about the non sequitur. Ah-- unless the child means the history of their people.

"There isn't a person in this world more qualified to answer your questions, then. Treat me to lunch between shows and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Oh, this man has a flair for drama. William can respect that . . . given, it makes sense, doesn't it ? Him being a performer and all . . . ❝ And that's why you're Maxwell the Magnificent then. Got it ! ❞ William says, misremembering the title in full confidence via newly formed mandela effect.

The theatrics aren't over yet, however when—

William this time lets out a nervous chitter from the other's claw as realisation sets in. He looks down at his own hands as if to confirm it.

No fucking way.

❝ Are you— you're— ❞ William's throat runs dry, words escaping him. This feels too surreal. He has to be wrong. But— shit. That would explain a lot about him. His own black claws. His own interests. His connection to the Capital.

Still, they can't jump the gun. They have to be smart. Their heart is racing.

❝ Y-you know, I uh . . . I'm in town because I was trying to get . . . records. Learn some stuff. About my history. ❞ Ring any bells ? His eyes are fixated on the man.