So after a whole lot of Crap We Are Not Talking About™ (read, running into Rivers Hunters after carefully hiding for the better part of her 18 years and blowing her cover because being a God Damn Hero apparently runs in the family), Max finds herself unceremoniously kicked out of a car in front of Falner. The fact she tried to punch the driver and steer the car away might have had something to do with his rudeness, of course. She just sits for a moment there, glaring at the world like a little spoiled brat, which she kind of is at the moment. It passes though, and she stands up and pats off the dust out of her dirty, old, nondescript clothes. The only thing of value on her person is the ring on her right middle finger, made of some metal you just don't normally dig out (her father's ring, who he got from his father, and the father of his father, and you know where that legacy crap goes).
The other valuable thing is the giant mystical tattoo thing on her back, but her beaten up leather jacket covers what her top doesn't, so prying eyes will be disappointed. Not that she thinks many people besides her can read it. Stupid legacy crap.
She has no backpack, whatever money she had with her at the moment and a random stolen cellphone she had taken before all the shit hit the fan, and now she was in front of some fancy schmancy mansion. Well, she's there already. Better check if she can make herself with some of the fine silver before they kick her out again.
B. Random shenanigans are love
The dude's name was something something Rivers. He knew her dad (or was it her dad's dad?) and apparently the old man had been something of a big shot, a pain in the ass and one of the odd Rivers to pick up his shit and walk away from The Vigil; all in all it seemed like her almost dried out river was held in both admiration and contempt, and somehow it was her job to put make amends for them.
Screw that, Max had tried to say, but the Rivers dude (they were all Rivers dudes in the end, anyway) had put a heavy stack of papers on her arms and pushed her down a hall, because she obviously had nothing better to do. She was supposed to be a student, not his damn secretary. The pile was already dangerously inclined to the left by the time she realized she had no idea of where she was going, and when she tried to stop someone to ask for directions, the whole thing came crashing down; the woman she had tried to stop was nowhere to be seen. Classic.
"Fuck fuck fuck." The litany of low key cussing carried on as she knelt down, trying to make sense of the files spread all over the floor. She was this close to call it quits and leave it all there. Fuck that Rivers dude.
C. Haven! Booze!
Half an hour after sitting by the bar, Max has finally managed to get a bottle of tequila all for herself. It's been quite a day and she wants to get dead drunk and be done with it. It's a pretty expensive bottle too, courtesy of the drunk mage with the poorly concealed wallet. You would expect more from someone who can mess with the basic laws of nature, but nope.
So Max is simple going to slouch over the bar and make shots in silence, wishing nobody notices her until she's at least halfway through the bottle.
Max Rivers - Open Beautiful Trainwrecks
So after a whole lot of Crap We Are Not Talking About™ (read, running into Rivers Hunters after carefully hiding for the better part of her 18 years and blowing her cover because being a God Damn Hero apparently runs in the family), Max finds herself unceremoniously kicked out of a car in front of Falner. The fact she tried to punch the driver and steer the car away might have had something to do with his rudeness, of course. She just sits for a moment there, glaring at the world like a little spoiled brat, which she kind of is at the moment. It passes though, and she stands up and pats off the dust out of her dirty, old, nondescript clothes. The only thing of value on her person is the ring on her right middle finger, made of some metal you just don't normally dig out (her father's ring, who he got from his father, and the father of his father, and you know where that legacy crap goes).
The other valuable thing is the giant mystical tattoo thing on her back, but her beaten up leather jacket covers what her top doesn't, so prying eyes will be disappointed. Not that she thinks many people besides her can read it. Stupid legacy crap.
She has no backpack, whatever money she had with her at the moment and a random stolen cellphone she had taken before all the shit hit the fan, and now she was in front of some fancy schmancy mansion. Well, she's there already. Better check if she can make herself with some of the fine silver before they kick her out again.
B. Random shenanigans are love
The dude's name was something something Rivers. He knew her dad (or was it her dad's dad?) and apparently the old man had been something of a big shot, a pain in the ass and one of the odd Rivers to pick up his shit and walk away from The Vigil; all in all it seemed like her almost dried out river was held in both admiration and contempt, and somehow it was her job to put make amends for them.
Screw that, Max had tried to say, but the Rivers dude (they were all Rivers dudes in the end, anyway) had put a heavy stack of papers on her arms and pushed her down a hall, because she obviously had nothing better to do. She was supposed to be a student, not his damn secretary. The pile was already dangerously inclined to the left by the time she realized she had no idea of where she was going, and when she tried to stop someone to ask for directions, the whole thing came crashing down; the woman she had tried to stop was nowhere to be seen. Classic.
"Fuck fuck fuck." The litany of low key cussing carried on as she knelt down, trying to make sense of the files spread all over the floor. She was this close to call it quits and leave it all there. Fuck that Rivers dude.
C. Haven! Booze!
Half an hour after sitting by the bar, Max has finally managed to get a bottle of tequila all for herself. It's been quite a day and she wants to get dead drunk and be done with it. It's a pretty expensive bottle too, courtesy of the drunk mage with the poorly concealed wallet. You would expect more from someone who can mess with the basic laws of nature, but nope.
So Max is simple going to slouch over the bar and make shots in silence, wishing nobody notices her until she's at least halfway through the bottle.
As if, of course.