Her strike had done what it was meant to do. In an instance the Old Man went from a sputtering, bleeding disaster to something much stronger and more familiar. The mutations remains, but behind all her steaming she was reminded of what magic could do to the mages she begrudgingly cared for, and hated it that much more. Now he was free to puff his chest and scold her, all righteous and wise.
Should’ve left him as he was. Maybe the exhaustion would’ve turned him quiet.
When he challenged her with her current course of action, why she stayed, she fought every fiber that thought to grapple with him. It became far harder to contain when he started pointing his assuming finger. He thought where she was now validated him.
"You think I’m standing here because I think you’re right?” Another cold laugh. "No. Oh, no…” She bit the end of the words. "I’m standing here because I know you’re a man of your word. I believe you’ll do what’s in your power to stop me from doing what I want.”
Maxine didn’t know herself well. Sometimes she did. She wished, right now, she’d known herself less. She could accomplish so much more. Chrien saw that.
"I know the only way to stop you, is to fight you,” she stated the obvious. "Probably kill you, actually. You’re making me choose between you and this.” The Rusalka gestured toward the carnage she left behind. "You fucking know that.”
Just like she was a kid again under Etzos, blade forced into hand and staring at the priest Kasoria demanded she butcher, there wasn’t any bit of Maxine that wanted to hurt the person in front of her. This play he made here to appeal to her was one she was well acquainted with. He was using her affections for him in hopes it would elicit the end he wanted. He wasn’t the first, and it was manipulation whether he wanted to name it that or not.
In Scalvoris she orchestrated a riot in response to the corruption within the Elements for housing the Cultists. She won a bit of blood spilled before the calvary arrived. Blackwood stood in her way with her sword and orders bared. Kura arrived with her owls.
The both of them would’ve had to be killed before they relented. It was either a forfeit of freedom for what amounted to a death sentence, or an honest effort to hurt them. She sheathed her sword and gave herself to Blackwood’s shackles.
In the war with Ellasin the Liche, a drug-induced series of unfortunate events led to what Max hoped was a fatalistic confrontation between herself and Orrick, the remaining Element Cultist she also believed was responsible for the threat to the lives of seated Council members. Holding a baby at knife-point wasn’t a strategy Team Zuuda seemed to agree with, and Ellasin arrived in Orrick’s stead in time to paralyze the Famula Champion before he could drive a blade far enough into the Rusalka’s throat.
Infected with a paralytic venom from a spider bite, and about to be completely at the mercy of a very, very powerful mage, Max found herself in an extremely dangerous situation. Yet Ellasin offered an opportunity. A fail-safe plan in case the “good guys” lost the war. Maxine lunged at it. In exchange for Blackwood’s immunity to Ellasin and her Coven, she promised to deliver Faith, Famula’s army, and all her knowledge related to either that might aid Ellasin’s cause. It was a reprehensible, all-of-humanity-be-damned, easy choice.
Under the guise of a follow-up meeting with Ellasin at the Red Hand, Max sat down at the table with what she thought was the liche and Audrae. Unbeknownst to her it was a disguised Famula she treated with and spilled all her betrayals. Max believed she was being rewarded another opportunity to protect someone she cared about. To strengthen their alliance and win another fail-safe, Max gave Kura’s alias name she was sporting at the time. She won a curse and enslavement under the then Councillor instead.
Then, most recently, there had been her conflict with Chrien. The Rusalka paid a pilgrimage to the sea on Chrien’s Night to make her offering, and was greeted with spit insults and vitriol instead. Her Matron made claims of killing Kura to force the spiteful reaction from Maxine that the Immortal desired. Chrien had gotten what she wanted, even if death didn’t stick.
Now Kasoria was guilty of it. It wasn’t until to-trial, until she voiced her indignation out loud, that she noticed the infuriating pattern. Immortals and mortals, they’d all done it. She didn’t care at all and still she cared far too much. The world was always using it against her.
Maxine was so lost in her rage and realization she didn’t hear the straggler racing from beneath the wagon. Kasoria pushed her aside and handled it with that swift deftness he was known for. She let loose a shaky exhale. The Old Man’s moment was ruined and hers had passed. He’d ensured there was one sensible order of business left now.
Bastard.
The Rusalka sighed and pivoted on her heels. The violent storm encircling her died and the only remaining tempest was in her demeanor. She broke into a light jog to the wagon.
In short order the trunk was pried open and the lock destroyed. She jogged back to the Old Man, tossing the small sack that contained the stolen coins. After she took a good handful for herself of course.
"Alright, Mark Morality,” she teased with an eye roll. "Fancy fucking off from here now?”
They’d increased their odds of a patrol or an alarm being sounded as soon as one of the men broke from the woods. Or worse, if some other uninvolved traveler happened upon them. They needed to vanish intelligently, and Max certainly needed to wipe the mud mask off her face.
More pressing, she could feel the intense desire for a drink coming on. No. Need was what it was, like lungs deprived of air. Everything had a price. For ending the cast of Kasoria’s magic and with it his suffering, her body began to slip toward withdrawal. Panorium Powder sounded like a god send right about now, too. Only this hold on her was stronger than that of vengeance.
