Honey & Ivy When crossroads converge

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus sat back in the chair he had found, waiting at the Honey and Ivy. The stylish noodle bar was just as he remembered, even though he had been a bit too drunk the last time he had visited. Markus didn't pay much attention to the people around him as he waited.

Earlier, the redhead had reached out to Max, asking to meet. It was a request Markus had been putting off for far too long. He had first met Max at the train station, and they had seen each other in passing a couple of times since then. Markus had wanted to talk to him when he discovered Max had been invited to the Byte Bash. However, the shock of the event and the encounter with the Wraith afterward had taken priority.

In a mental spiral, Markus had given into wanderlust. He traveled for a while before returning to the city, more determined than ever to uncover the truth. Recently, he had seen Max in passing at the Sewing Circle. Although they had never directly stopped to talk to each other, Markus realized he needed to reach out. He had too many questions to keep putting it off.

Besides, he owed Max a thank you; the redhead was still pretty sure that he would have been lost in the train station if he had been alone.

[Max Kuryakin]

Max hadn't really known what to think about it when Eldridge had stopped him one day. He'd dropped by to annoy Em at the Circle makerspace and ended up agreeing to meet up. He'd had no reason to say no, and plenty of curiosity about why the guy wanted to talk. On his own part, he wasn't sure what to think of the guy. He could recognise that they might've had something of a rocky start, what with ending up in some version of the Greek underworld together before seeing each other again at some Eyes Wide Shut party.

That whole business had left Max completely weirded out, but it didn't matter now. He had heard nothing about the League of Extraordinarily Shady Gentlemen after he'd left that building in Boston. Although, maybe both he and Emily had got blacklisted because they hadn't been interested in the guy's fear mongering. He didn't even want to think about it.

All of that aside, meeting at the Honey & Ivy meant Max had a home field advantage, which was preferable when going into an unknown situation. He thought nothing truly bad would happen, but it paid to be somewhere familiar. He didn't know if Goki had a shift tonight, and Lin wasn't always there, but the rest of the staff knew his face. So it was with confidence that Max pushed in through the door. As he walked past the host, busy with other customers, he gave her a nod and a smile but didn't interrupt her. Instead, Max headed for the bar, spotting the redhead easily.

Max slipped into the barstool next to the guy, offering a pleasant, “What's up, Eldridge,” in greeting, before giving a smile and a nod to the bartender who came by. Ellie, he knew, working her way through college. He'd helped her with a few essays for her English class. “Hey El. A beer? Thanks.”

As she moved to pull one–he knew he'd get the most popular Asian beer on tap–he turned back to look at the man who'd invited him out, propping his elbow on the bar. He grinned at the man, perfectly charming, as he wondered what this was all about.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus heard the footsteps as someone approached and turned his head to see Max. The redhead gave him a gentle smile and raised his hand. “Thanks for agreeing to meet Max,” Markus didn't know the other man's last name and felt a little strange being formal with what they survived together. “Feel free to call me Markus.” He added with a smile as Max ordered a drink. It was interesting to the redhead that Max knew the bartender by nickname and in such a casual way. He wondered if that meant that this was a common dive for Max.

Taking a small drink, Markus awkwardly cleared his throat before speaking up. “First, I wanted to thank you properly. I should have reached out sooner. But I really appreciate what you and Goki did in the subway,” Markus said softly. Though that wasn't his primary reason for asking to speak with Max, he wanted to address that first.

[Max Kuryakin]

Max could pick up that Eldridge wasn't quite sure what to make of it with the first few seconds of their meeting, but he nodded easily at the man inviting him to use his first name. Either worked for Max, he just defaulted to surnames when he didn't know someone that well. Markus was an unknown, after all.

After a sip of his drink and a clearing of his throat–a little awkward, the werewolf thought, but he couldn't blame the guy. What followed had him huffing a laugh, glancing down at the beer Ellie slid over the bar towards him. He curled his fingers around the cool glass as he looked at the guy.

“No problem, man. We were all in the shit together,” Max said, knowing there hadn't been a choice to do anything other than what they did. “Run into anything weird after that?” Indulging his curiosity just a little, as he raised the beer to take a sip. It was a polite question, not a pointed one, but Max wondered if that was why Markus had asked him out here, anyway.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus chuckled and nodded as Max reminded him that they were all in it together. While it was true that they didn't have much choice, Markus also knew not everyone would have focused on making sure the redhead didn't drink the water.

“That's true, but it still doesn't change the fact that I was woefully unprepared,” Markus said, thinking back to that night. When Max asked his question, Markus would force a laugh again. “Yeah, it turns out the subways aren't the only place haunted,” he said, referencing the conversation he overheard while in the station. “Ended up being attacked in a nightclub, not entirely sure by what, some sort of spirit, I guess.”

Markus looked directly at Max, realizing he might never get to it if he didn't ask what he wanted to know. “But that's not why I asked you here.” The redhead paused with a drink. “Fuck, this is gonna be awkward... But I have to ask. Did you, by any chance, know of Victoria?” Markus realized he should specify. “Before Mac decided to use her name for his 'campaign,' I mean,” Markus added, a bit of venom going into the word as he thought back to how he was blindsided.

[Max Kuryakin]

Being mid-sip, only the confused swoop of his eyebrows was the outward reaction to someone being 'unprepared' for something no one could be prepared for. Neither Max nor Goki had been prepared either, they were just more practised at winging it. As Markus continued, referencing an attack in a nightclub, Max lowered his beer and allowed himself a huffed laugh, muttering a low, “Been there, done that.”

Early on, he remembered one of his first run-ins. Scuffling with some furious spirit at Barbarous, with another guy–Malcom or Mac, actually, whatever he was calling himself now. He'd thought the guy calling himself Malcolm had been familiar, but it hadn't been until later that he'd realised they'd been the same guy. Later, Max had realised they might've been dealing with an Onryo, but he hadn't seen one since to confirm it.

But they didn't linger on the moment, Markus hustling the conversation forward in that characteristic way of someone who had something they wanted to get to. Talk about, whatever. Max inclined his head, showing he understood and inviting Markus to continue as the man drank. When he continued, asking Max about Vicky, and the aside about Mac pulling his stunt at the weird party, the werewolf nodded, allowing himself another sip from his drink before he spoke.

“I saw how sucker punched you looked, yeah. Didn't talk it out with you, did he?” Max observed shrewdly, the rhetorical question needing no answer. Max had felt plenty furious about it. It had come at the wrong moment, the fresh realisation she was dead, rather than just going no-contact with someone who didn’t agree with her choices. Max sighed, leaving all that unsaid, and confirmed, voice more subdued. “But yeah, I knew Vicky. We were friends until we weren’t. Then I found out she was dead.”

By now, Max had processed it. No longer fresh news, however tragic, and he'd got too used to saying goodbye to old friends. In Vicky's case, he'd already processed the loss of friendship, and the news of her death had been a short-lived shock, exacerbated by her being brought up like a gotcha. Mac talked a big game, but in the end Max didn't wonder if he hadn't been one of those people encouraging Vicky into getting deeper into the mess she found herself in. Magic for magic's sake, not stopping to think twice.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus couldn't help but shake his head as Max mentioned that he and Max had fought a spirit at a nightclub. He would have been flabbergasted to learn that when Mac mentioned having fought that particular spirit before, it would have been the very one Max mentioned. As it was, however, Markus just continued on with his assumptions that danger was everywhere in the city, and very few places were genuinely safe.

The redhead noticed the mood shift as Max took a drink and spoke out loud. Seeing no need to answer, Markus drank as well. Realizing he was getting low, he requested another at the bar as Max confirmed his assumption, calling her a nickname Markus had never heard before. He liked it. Strangely, Markus wasn't sure if he was relieved, concerned, or something else entirely.

He wondered if Max and Victoria had done rituals together; he assumed they probably had. The more people Markus found who knew Victoria, the worse things seemed, but Markus liked this one. It helped that Max pretty much saved his life. So far, of all the people Vic had written about, only Delilah seemed to be 'normal' or mundane, whatever it was non-magic folk were called.

“I thought that might be the case,” Markus said softly in response. “I've been looking into what happened to her... It's how I learned about all of this... magic, supernatural, whatever it is,” Markus said, waving his hand somewhat nebulously. He was thinking about what Victoria had written about the other man. Everything was good; Markus could tell his sister liked him.

“You know... she wrote about you.” He said, with a genuine smile.

[Max Kuryakin]

Any details around Vicky's death weren't something Max had, other than rumours. He understood that the Exchange was involved, which meant magical bullshit was afoot. That was enough for Max to lose any desire to dig and leave it to the experts. He had to wonder how much headway Markus was making, investigating something so entrenched in magic when he seemed so new to it all.

As he sipped his beer and let Markus keep talking, Max realised he was a little unsettled about the conversation. Had Markus learnt it... from Vicky? Because of? Max had seen what she'd worked on, the notes she'd left around and he'd read, and he hadn't liked it. The conversation he'd had with her after that had just made it all worse. Max knew it was a step too far to assume Markus was following in her footsteps, though, but it felt only like common sense to be wary of it.

Any outwards show of the worry was absent, as Max lowered the beer with a chuckle at Markus' last words. “Nothing good, I assume,” he joked, even if Markus’ smile seemed to imply the opposite. It was odd to think about, considering the argument that'd ended the friendship, or that he thought had ended it.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus didn't have to wait long for his drink to be refilled, but he would take the time to watch the other man. He wondered if Max felt as awkward as he did. It was still strange for Markus to think about how much of his sister's life had been hidden from him. It was true that Markus had his own secrets as well, part of his job, of course, but this life of hers just felt like too much to keep from him.

Markus heard the man chuckle. He took a moment, however, before responding. “No, actually, while she didn't really go into details, I had actually gotten the feeling she might have wanted more than friendship,” he said, looking through the corner of his eye. “She said you were fun, hot, a bit uptight, I guess...” Markus started before realizing what he was saying. “But, nothing terrible. I could tell she liked you; trust me, she wasn't one to hide when she was displeased.”

Markus had more questions for the man, as well as the notes in his jacket pocket. He wanted to offer the letters to Max. It was possible that if the other man knew Victoria's life here, then there was something that would stand out. But before Markus took that step, he wanted to trust the man. Plus, he did not doubt that his words wouldn't be easy to hear, and he would be lying if he said he didn't want to know more about his sister.

[Max Kuryakin]

Markus didn't immediately reply, so Max lifted his beer for another gulp. Leaning against the bar top, elbow braced on the surface, Max relaxed into the conversation. Nothing alarming had come up–yet–and it seemed the guy just wanted to talk about his sister. Max was happy to indulge him for now.

When the man continued, much of it didn't surprise Max, but his eyebrows went up in silent curiosity still. He and Vicky had been lovers, fuck buddies, whatever term you could apply to it. Still, he hadn't picked up her wanting to make it serious. Had he deflected a few of her overtures in that direction? He knew he hadn't been in the headspace for anything like that, but he knew he wouldn't have gone for it, regardless.

“I can make a good guess about what she thought I was uptight about,” Max murmured, plenty amused. So she'd been bitching to her brother about him? But clearly not specifically on what it was about, or Markus might've mentioned it. “And yeah, that goes for the both of us. Towards the end we were arguing more than anything.”

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus couldn't gather much from watching the man, and Max didn't confirm or deny whether there had been anything more to his and Victoria's relationship. Not that Markus really needed such details. When Max did respond, stating that he might know what she was complaining about, it would be Markus' turn to raise an inquisitive brow.

“I see,” he said thoughtfully. “She didn't write to me as often in the end. I guess it was why I missed the news.” He regretted that, above all else, he had gotten so involved in his work, in his mission, that he missed the signs—that he missed her funeral.

Markus would get to the real reason he was here with a small apologetic look. “I didn't know about her life here, outside of a few names such as yours. Hell, I didn't know about this world, The Exchange, any of it. She kept it all from me. When you, Goki, and I met in the subway, I was several drinks into accepting the truth of it all. Hence my... behavior... in the subway.” He didn't apologize for it, nor did he tell the man to attempt to excuse his behavior. He just wanted the man to understand.

“That's why I have been looking into those named, such as yourself.” He turned towards the man. “Do you mind me asking more questions about her life here? What you know of it, at least. And do you mind looking at a few things?”

[Max Kuryakin]

Lowering his beer, Max listened with a relaxed expression, although with a furrow between his eyebrows as he listened closely. It was a bit of a relief to know Vicky hadn't been Markus' entry into all this, not directly at least. Indirectly, she seemed to be the only reason Markus knew anything at all. Max could only hope Markus was a bit more circumspect about the people he befriended and the theories he subscribed to.

As Markus brought up the subway incident, Max frowned for a split second as he cast his mind back, before his expression cleared, an amused understanding replacing it. Markus hadn't handled it with much grace, but it wasn't everyday you stumbled on waters designed to confuse and disorient. Max had already told him it was fine and to forget about it immediately after it all happened, so he gave the man a one-shouldered shrug.

“I don't mind, no,” Max answered, seeing no issue with sharing. “Although I only know one side of it. I kept away from her... other friends.” The friends who ended up getting her killed, he could surmise. He really didn't know shit about them. Vicky hadn't shared after he'd shown his initial concern, and there'd have been no hope after he was outright disapproving of the direction she was going in.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus nodded, unsurprised that he didn't have much connection to whoever ultimately led to her death. Even when they were young, Victoria excelled at compartmentalizing her friends. She was liked by most of the groups in their school, primarily because she knew when to keep them separate. Still, he didn't like that there was so much he didn't know. “Any info is appreciated.”

With a sigh, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a handful of papers; then, he leaned down and grabbed two books from his messenger bag. "“We used to send letters to one another almost monthly, with the occasional two-to-three-month gap... In her last year, I got maybe a handful from her, most of them asking about me and deflecting.” Markus would still hold onto the items, though. He wanted to hear Max's side first, unfiltered and unbiased. He wondered if Max knew that the working theory was murder or if he thought it was an accident.

“But, before we get to those, please tell me what you knew?” Markus asked pointedly before clarifying. “It's safe to assume you knew she was an Arcanist; you were at the event, after all. But I have a theory that you didn't practice with her much, if at all. Why did you disagree with her, other friends, as you put it?”

Markus had come to a conclusion after meeting Sunako, Mac, and Delilah that Victoria had been cautious about which of her 'friends' she mentioned in letters to him. People like Delilah, Max, and Sunako were mentioned more than once, but Mac, whom she would have known as Malcolm, was never discussed. Markus discovered that Malcolm and his sister had more of a working relationship centered around their use of magic. This would also explain why she never talked about these 'friends' Max mentioned, the ones Markus started to suspect tainted her ritual.

[Max Kuryakin]

Markus had a lot to say that Max had very little context of. Vicky hadn't mentioned her brother much, hadn't mentioned letters, or anything much at all. He'd realised that he hadn't known her very well at all, in the end. He wasn't sure what Markus' point was in bringing it up, but he just listened, lifting his beer for another gulp.

It turned out nothing, yet at least, as the man pivoted back to the disagreement. The other people too, but Max really had little to go on there.

“I don't know anything about her friends, like I said. I had nothing to do with them,” Max reiterated, puzzling his way through the muddled question. He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a murmur to keep it between them. Nari's whole place seemed to be filled with supes, but Max was cautious still. “My disagreement with her was about the magic she was getting into. Draining the life out of things, excusing it because she was just working with 'energy', or it was 'just a theory.'” As he spoke, Max lifted one hand to illustrate the quotations with his fingers. “I just know these other guys were encouraging it. I don't wanna fuck around with that shit, man.”

He'd ended up in an argument with Broder over the same concept. An entire section of forest at the mercy of some whack wizard, ignoring the consequences for his own ends. He'd never seen Vicky do it, but he'd caught the sour, rotten aftertaste of the magic. It smelled wrong somehow, and he'd never picked up that scent from Broder's magic, so he knew it had to be something worse than just some stupid kid high off his own fumes.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus listened intently as the man spoke, taking a breath as he mentioned this energy source idea. Frankly, he could understand why it was such an interesting prospect. Hell, myths, and lore throughout history had sacrifices of some kind. Life as a source makes sense logically. However, he wasn't sure how he felt about it practically. He had seen more than his fair share of lines crossed regarding Science and Technology. He didn't need to imagine what was possible with magic.

“I don't blame you,” Markus said, taking a drink and contemplating what Max had told him. “What were you getting yourself into sis,” he muttered to himself, looking at grains of wood in the bar.

“Do you know when she started using this kind of magic? How often she used it?” Markus fingered one of the books he had with him. They were journals given to him by Sunako when he visited her shop. One contained personal thoughts and only a few entries, not long before her death. The other was filled with technical notes and little else; its dates went back a few years, probably written before she got tangled into whatever mess she was in. More than once, Markus wondered why they had been left at her place of work and whether or not he should give them to the Exchange. Neither seemed to hold any big secrets or clues.

[Max Kuryakin]

As Markus spoke, Max took another swig of his beer, coming to the bottom of the glass now. He settled the empty glass down on the bar top, seeing Ellie coming past. She pointed to the beer and mouthed 'another?' and he nodded, giving her a grateful smile as his attention slid back to Markus.

The question had Max running his hand through his hair, gripping the back of his head as he frowned, thinking it over. He really couldn't pin down a moment where it seemed she'd just picked it up. “I dunno, man. I think she must've been doing the research before she met me, because she was deep into it the first time we talked about it.” Dragging his hand down the back of his neck, Max dropped it into his lap as El arrived with a fresh beer, taking the empty glass with her as she went to serve someone else. Max looked back at Markus after the distraction. “She was testing it regularly, though. I could spot that.”

Where the testing stopped, he couldn't know. He'd been able to smell dead things around her apartment; mice and rats, some birds. If she'd done anything bigger in her pursuit of knowledge, Max didn't know and didn't want to know. Apparently, at some point she must’ve got scared, realised where the line of inquiry was leading her. Nowhere good.

[Markus Eldridge]

The redhead watched Max order another beer and thought about what he said. The answer didn't surprise him. Victoria never did anything in half measures. If she was moving on to regular testing, it was because she had full faith in her ability to get it done. However, the prospect that she was so deep into such magic was horrifying for the redhead. Mac had told Markus that the two of them had studied curses and other 'dark magic'; he had called her genius and misunderstood, but even Mac didn't know how far Victoria had delved.

“I understand,” Markus said, contemplating. He didn't need to ask Max how long they had known one another. “How did you know she was testing it regularly? What signs could I look out for? She was usually pretty good about hiding things.” Markus didn't know enough about magical residue or its traces to know how to search for such signs. He had developed a nullification charm, which could remove the residue of a ritual, but he doubted Vic would have done the same with what he understood of her magic.

However, he knew his sister when she had studied at university, she usually hated anyone being in her workspace. Besides, even those she did trust to enter her workstation always had a hazardous journey, especially with how haphazardly she had kept her piles of books. It was often a defense to make it such that only she knew where anything was. So, either Max was more trusted than he was admitting to, or prehaps realized, or there was something else at play. Markus was starting to realize Max probably didn't know how much he had influenced her final decision, and he was uncertain if that was something he wanted to reveal.

[Max Kuryakin]

Max lifted his fresh beer for a swallow as Markus asked his question, lifting one shoulder in another one-shouldered shrug. What signs could Markus look out for? Max wasn't sure if he meant generally or Vicky specifically, but the former was the one that made the most sense.

“It really depends on the person, how they like to work, what mediums they use,” he said, licking some beer foam off his lips as he put the glass back down. “Vicky used chalk, so I'd know if she was working on something by how much chalk dust was in her hair, if she had smears on her clothing, stuff like that.” The smell of it was hard to ignore too, but she'd not covered her tracks that meticulously. Someone paying enough attention could notice it.

“I could figure out what she'd been working on based on which of the books had moved around. The dead give-away was if she had cuts on her fingers, usually the thumb.” Max indicated his left thumb, as if demonstrating.

He'd figured out that scarred fingers was a pretty common sign of someone doing magic, although not a guarantee. Vicky's had been a dead giveaway, and she'd been one messy girl, to Max's consternation. She'd tried to argue that it was 'her organising system' but it just made her look like a slob. It also made it easy to spot when she'd shifted stuff around, though.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus nodded along as Max spoke. It all made a lot of sense, much like looking for signs of a bomber or hacker. You didn't look at what they wanted you to see; you looked for what was left behind. When Max talked about Vic's preferences, Markus wondered if he had any of his own and came to the conclusion that he would need to find something other than his thumb to cut in ritual.

He wondered what the other man did for a living to be so meticulous about noticing signs others would entirely miss. But if it was a common occurrence, then perhaps it was just something that he picked up on. “I see. That makes a lot of sense,” Markus said with a small smile, thinking back towards her habits. If he had thought hard enough and visited her often enough, he could have noticed the same.

“While I know the Exchange is looking into her murder, I just can't let it go,” Markus admitted to Max after a moment of contemplation. It was probably an obvious statement, given how Markus had discovered what he had done and the pointed questions he had asked. He hoped it would be understandable why.

“I know I have asked you a lot already, but would you be willing to look at a few things, and tell me if anything stands out?” Ultimately, the redhead decided to trust his instinct. He didn't think Max had anything to do with his sister's death, and, in her own words, she owed him an apology.

[Max Kuryakin]

With his background in the army, with special forces work that sometimes asked him to notice with if something seemed or felt out of place, Max already had a trained mind for spotting patterns he could extrapolate from. Add to that an inhumanly sharp eye and a powerful nose and few things passed him by, so long as he was paying attention enough to look for them. Markus seemed to accept Max's breakdown, rather than doubt him or ask him to elaborate. For the better, since Max didn't want to get into his military service, and his status as a werewolf was nobody's business.

Still, it wasn't all that. Exposure to Vicky's habits definitely helped, and he'd only first started noting her books when she'd first told him about what she was working on, highlighting what texts she was using when he'd asked her to elaborate. He'd remember what they were called, what they looked like, and know for the future. Being a werewolf ever so suspicious of magic use, he had it ingrained in him to notice it. Magic, to him, was dangerous, and he'd told Emily once that he only trusted it from her.

As Markus continued, Max couldn't help the grim smile as the man finally admitted to not being able to let it go. It was barely a smile, only a reluctant uptick of one corner. It was easy to understand why, with Markus digging in and discovering the sort of trouble Vicky had got herself into. He wasn't sure what the man hoped to accomplish, though. It was risky, if it was a part of the cult killings the Exchange were dealing with.

And he was looking to get Max stuck in too, by the sound of things. Giving the man a dubious look, doubting he'd have much at all to offer, he still nodded. “Alright. Sure, man. I can have a look.”

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus nodded when the man accepted, agreeing to take a look. With a breath, the redhead decided it would be best to be upfront and honest. Plus, he didn't know Max well enough to know how he would respond to what Markus had to show, and he wanted to give Max the chance to back out.

Touching the papers and books, Markus would start by grabbing the newer journal. “I brought with me two of Vic's journals, ones that I got from her old employer. As well as the letters we shared in the last year, and a list of names and notes on people mentioned.” Markus said, explaining what all he brought with him. “First, I want you to read this. You deserve to know the truth. I don't know how much you know about what happened to her.”

Markus would hand over the journal but speak up before Max started to read. “The... 'friends'... you mentioned are the ones who killed her. The Exchange knows she was connected to an insane cult performing ritualistic murders. However, how she was killed was concerning. Someone close to her tainted a ritual she tried to cast in such a way that identifying her was... difficult.” A small tear started to go down Markus' cheek as he explained all of this. He took a steading breath. “I won't try and convence you that she was a good person, making wrong decisions. But I have since learned that she tried to leave them. They killed her because she wanted out.”

Markus would look directly at Max. “Some of what is written here is about you. If after reading it, you want nothing to do with any of this. I would understand.”

Markus would finish explaining some of what he knew, and if Max hadn't started to look at the journal yet, he would allow the other man to do so. The journal was relatively fresh; it would have been new if it had been found at her death. There were only five entries, most of which took up a very small part of the pages.


The first entry was written a couple of months before her presumed death and the discovery of her body. With each entry being randomly spaced apart when written. The last entry would have been written at most days before the discovery of her body.

A new journal, you know what that means. A new chapter in my life. A lot has happened, and not all of it I am ready to write about. But
[...]The remainder of the entry is about random information for her day/week[...]

I dug out one of my old reserach journals. From the early days. I miss working with the earth, trying to preserve culture. Sometimes I read those pages, and wonder what happened to that girl
[...]There isn't much more written on this entry[...]

I got a letter from Markus today. It seems he is gonna be gone for a while this time, and might not be able to respond. I should write him back
[...]The rest of the entry is about Markus, and what he wrote her[...]

Sunako had me working on sorting today, and it gave me time to think. Maybe Max was right. Have I stepped too far? What they are doing... its wrong
[...]The entry takes up a very small amount of the page, and is covered with long dried wetspots[...]

I'm done. I told them I wanted out. I can't continue to do what they ask. It is too much, I thought I was doing good...
I haven't cried this much in ages.
Just one more ritual, to hide myself.
I am going to leave this here with Sunako in my locker, I won't be able to stop off at home yet.
I should message Max later, to see if he will accept my apology.
[...]There is nothing else written, but the page has numerous dried wetspots making some of the words hard to read[...]

[Max Kuryakin]

Markus went for a sheaf of books and papers he had, and Max watched the pile with some suspicion as he occupied himself with taking a sip from his beer. The journal he pulled forward looked the least worn out of the pile, not so many boxed edges and accidental tears. Max glanced at Markus' face as he explained.

Taking the journal when offered, Max flipped it open as Markus went on. Max nodded absently as the man went on, much of it things Max had inferred himself from his quick talk with the Exchange. His attention was on the pages, skimming quickly through it and pausing on the words and phrases that stuck out.

He was still listening to Markus, wincing and glancing up as the man mentioned how she got found. That he hadn’t known. The details around how she’d died, which had been magical and fucking messy by the emphasis Markus used. Seeing the emotional state of the man, Max looked back down at the journal to give the man a moment to himself. By now, the werewolf took the grim and grisly in stride. He'd seen the gamut as a trauma medic, then a paramedic. The personal link made it harder, but he'd put Vicky behind him when they'd first stopped talking, and again when he'd had to reframe that for himself.

Once Markus forced himself to continue, Max wasn't surprised to hear that some contents of the writing was about him, considering how much he'd taken her to task about her choices before the end. Not having read it all, Max still felt compelled to speak, glancing up at the man.

“Some of that I'd figured out for myself. The Exchange contacted me a while back, checking out my connection to her. Got me thinking,” he admitted, lips in a thin, unhappy line. “I had a few ideas of how it might've gone down, but this–” he gestured with the journal, “–confirms a lot of it.”

In truth, Max had processed it already. He didn't have it in him to muster the same emotion Markus did when it wasn't fresh for him. The confirmation didn't dredge it up so much as make him feel grimly satisfied at being right.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus wasn't surprised that the man had figured out much of it; Max seemed intuitive and knowledgeable. When they met in the subway, Max said he was a paramedic, so he had probably seen his share. Since Max had been at the Byte Bash 'secret meeting,' Markus was also glad that meant he didn't have to explain any of the gory details. It is evident through the man's face that he understood.

He wondered if it was his fault that the Exchange had contacted Max. Markus knew he had given the Inquisitor a list of names of those Victoria had been associated with some months ago. He assumed they had followed up on the leads, so it made sense. He wondered if that meant Delilah and others had been contacted.

“Yeah, it confirmed a lot for me, too,” Markus said quietly. For Markus personally, it had confirmed that somewhere in all the mess, the sister he knew was still there. She had lost her way but tried to get it back. Even before the journal, he had known his sister had been Murdered. The Inquisitor had even told him about the contamination and the state of her body at Markus' request. “I am glad I found it.”

Markus went quiet, giving the man the rest of the time he needed to finish reading and ask questions. He could be patient, but he still wanted to give Max the chance to walk away.

[Max Kuryakin]

For the sake of Markus' apparent desire for him to read it, Max continued leafing through the pages, reading the passages that seemed the most relevant. Much of it handled what Markus had already mentioned, just in more detail. It was a bit of a relief to know she'd tried to pull back, but it seemed she’d been in too deep. Getting out might have been impossible, whatever she’d done, or she'd tipped her hand before even making a choice.

Honestly, Max wouldn't be surprised if he learnt the cult she'd been dealing with had planned for potential betrayals and this was just all according to plan once she bottled it. He knew from experience that people who did rituals knew it inside out, so he could only assume they had to have gotten to her some other way, unless they'd sent a cultist to get blown up with her. Maybe she’d got something designed to fail, but what could that have been? A mistranslated rune? A vial of tainted blood? A volatile component?

It all boiled down to one thing, though. If she was having second thoughts, why hadn't she reached out to anyone? At all? Max knew he wouldn't have been her first stop. He trusted that she'd known he'd help, but he also figured she'd not think he could help in that situation. She hadn't known what he was, but even then, what could a werewolf have done? They'd never talked about the Exchange, but he couldn't imagine her having missed them, not unless she was living under a rock. They would've helped her, protected her, like they'd helped Juney and all the others in tough spots who went to Lethe Hostel or the Exchange directly.

In the end, Vicky hadn’t been smarter than the guys she was up against. In the wake of that, the Exchange was left piecing together clues, tracking down random werewolves a year after he'd had anything to do with it. There were a lot of what if's, but now Max wasn't sure what Markus' point was. He’d got a measure more of peace of mind, but ultimately it didn't matter.

“What're you looking for, man?” Max gestured with the journal again, still open near the last few pages. His tone wasn't unsympathetic, just a little puzzled. “It's good to know she wasn't swallowing the bullshit hook line, and sinker, but I'm not sure what you think I can give you.”

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus drank more of his drink and glanced through the other pages he had with him. There was a lot to consider. He wished he knew more about her life here; there was just so much he didn't know. Was all her work from home? Or did she have a second ritual space? Some of the Magic mentioned in her older journal would require more space than an apartment, and the newer journal hinted that she was going somewhere other than home. He wished he knew where her body had been discovered. Though he doubted the Exchange would give him that information.

He knew Max was his longshot. Victoria had been secretive and obviously untrusting, and she no doubt felt alone in the end. He doubted there was any more Max could add, but he hoped that perhaps something read would reveal something small or significant—a name, a location, anything. He was musing when he heard the voice. Glancing over, he would listen as Max spoke up.

What was he looking for, and what did he think Max could give him? Truthfully, nothing. At first, he wanted to talk to Max directly, and for the same reasons he had spoken to Sunako, Delilah, and the others, He needed to know who was responsible among her friends. But the longer it continued, the more he realized that wouldn't be possible.

With Max, it was different as well. The journal he held, in some ways, was her last words. A message from the dead. After a moment, Markus would answer, “I don't know. It has been so long, at this point, I am grasping at straws, hoping for any clue or sign. I wanted to look you in the eyes as we talked about her...” Markus was not afraid to look Max in the eyes as he spoke; he knew he was grasping, and hiding that fact was useless. He also had no doubt, thanks to the conversation, that Max wasn't the cause of her death. “I also feel like I am giving her a chance to say some shit she might not have had the courage to do on her own before the end.” He answered honestly; that was the thing about diaries or journals. Usually, they only lied to themselves.

[Max Kuryakin]

Max gently closed the journal, placing it back down on the bar top by Markus' elbow. Letting out a sigh, he felt a bit like he did each time one in the squad had come to him with their problems whenever the chaplain wasn't available. As if being the medical sergeant had anything to say about his skill in head-shrinking. He'd stuck to common sense and some tough love, alongside firm orders to go to the fucking chaplain.

There was no chaplain to go to now, and Max did not know who else Markus had around him to ease whatever psychological despair the man might've been in. No one, maybe, if he was meeting strangers in bars to commiserate over a dead woman's last written word. Strangers he seemed to imply he'd wanted to... confront, somehow? Look him in the eye? It just made Max think the guy was so wrapped up in solving it he was seeing suspects everywhere, even if the Exchange had their perps, by all accounts. It was just the matter of hunting them down.

“I appreciate knowing. Knowing what was going through her head, that she wasn't just blowin' me off,” Max started, speaking softly, slowly spinning his beer glass in his hand, the condensation assisting the spin. He met Markus' eyes, the stare down more significant to a werewolf, but not one he'd turn away from first. “But you. In all this, you're the FNG. The new guy. You're too late for clues, like you said. What you want, from this–” Max touched the journal, the pile of papers underneath, his asking Max to tell him about anything that stood out. Looking for clues. “–is going to drive you fucking insane if you keep chasing it.”

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus was ultimately glad that he had accomplished two goals. He had shared Victoria's apology and decided that Max was not the one who killed her. Anything else that came from this meeting would be a bonus, a stretch goal, in his mind, and he was okay with that. Still keeping focus, Markus would actually smile slightly at what Max said.

This wouldn't be the first time Markus had heard the term, and he knew Max didn't mean it as a complement. It actually gave Markus an interesting insight into Max's past and experiences. Markus, however, lived in the world of innovation; a world where a new face, a new perspective, and a single unexplored thought could change lives and save the mission. Astronauts took the term, calling themselves TFNG, as their own post-apolo because of such innovations. Because of that fact, Markus prefers to think of himself as the Rubber Duck.

Still, Markus knew what the man meant and didn't take offense; he even offered a nod of acceptance. Markus didn't see any need to argue the point, even if unsolved cases were often figured out due to a single bit of missing evidence being found, even years later. However, he was unwilling to turn away. “I can't explain what it is like to lose your twin. But, tell me, is there no one in your life that if you were to lose them, you wouldn't search the ends of the earth for answers?”

[Max Kuryakin]

Still looking at Markus, as the man hadn't dropped his gaze, Max smiled at the rhetorical question, but there was no humour in it. It was a dangerous smile, a slight baring of teeth, as the werewolf found himself unimpressed by Markus' approach. It felt a bit rich, being asked that of a guy who looked like he hadn’t touched a trench shovel in his life.

In truth, Max wouldn't be searching for answers. He'd know. He'd know the moment it happened, the magic in his head tying him to each of them. He'd feel whatever pain they went through, he'd know where they were. The person or people responsible wouldn't live for long after that. Max was the perfect predator to hunt them down. What was more blood on his hands, when he'd crossed that threshold of killing in someone else's name a decade ago?

Markus, in contrast, didn't have a single clue beyond a journal that held no names or locations. Whatever circumstances that prevented the man from being present right after her death, Max couldn't know. A valid reason, he had to assume, but it meant Markus was stumbling into a case that had been firmly in the Exchange's hands for two years, if Max was correctly tracking back the rumours. The connection to Vicky hadn't come until later, if Max's phone call from the Exchange was any sign. And now the cult was being actively hunted, but the same thing the Exchange encouraged was helping the Cult hide. Secrecy and staying hidden, the rules of life for supernaturals, but the Exchange was crawling all over the city for the bastards.

“Answers don't mean jack shit if you're sitting around doing nothing,” Max countered, cocking his head as he kept holding Markus' gaze. He tapped his curled fist against the bar top as he went through his points, not hard, but illustrative. “You gotta act, man. Intellectualising this won't get Vicky's killers caught. The Exchange is in the middle of dealing with it. They're hunting down groups of these guys. They're doing something. What're you doing? Sitting in a bar talking to some guy you don't know, clinging to her last words like it'll give you an epiphany?”

The words might have been harsh, but Max was well used to cutting to the chase. His tone was steady, but firm, not carrying cruelty so much as a desire to give the man a reality check. He wasn’t going to pussy-foot around this when the guy was barking up a tree that’d get him nowhere. Markus had to check his priorities if he wanted to be involved in dealing with Vicky’s death. Reading a dead woman’s words for clues or hints couldn’t work, not when she’d been so wrapped up in secrecy herself.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus remained calm as the man's gaze turned dangerous, confirming his assessment. The term Max used earlier in a few places and carried significant meaning. Markus already knew the answer, even before he had asked it, he hadn't asked it to challenge the man's experience, but to remind him of lessons learned. Markus had never met a child who realized that the stove was hot just by being told, and he knew, in this case, he was the child. He understood that Max wasn't trying to hurt him but getting Markus to take at least some of his lived experience, whatever that was. The redhead actually appreciated it.

Markus would give the man a genuine smile in return and, with a downturn of his eyes and a tilt of his head, concede whatever challenge had been brewing between the two. His gaze would turn to his drink. Markus knew when to fight and step away; he always had. This particular disagreement was one he had seen before, especially when R&D met the boots on the ground, both thinking what they did overshadow the other. In those experiences, Markus was among the few in R&D who sided with the boots. But, it wasn't an argument he cared to have again.

“You misunderstood the reason behind my question, Max. Remember the first time you lost someone, and think. Did you act the same then as you do now?” Markus had met people with so much loss they had become hardened to it; he hoped he never experienced so much tragedy. He couldn't imagine the shell of a life someone lived at that point, the loneliness they must feel. He continued, his question having being rhetorical and him not wanting an answer. “As you probably realized, being Vic's friend, our lives didn't include much tragedy. We had it pretty damn good. So excuse me if the first person I lost takes some time and a bit of stumbling. However, I know my strengths; if you think sitting at this bar, giving Victoria's apology, it's due, and checking for information is all I am doing. Then think again. Why do you think I was at the Sewing Circle, that damned meeting at the Byte Bash, or have visited almost every god-forsaken library in this city? You're right; I have to be ready to act, but to do so, I have to know what I am up against and how to deal with it. Had I gone half-cocked into the city, then I might as well have just stayed in those damn waters and let it wash away my memories because my fate would have been far worse.”

Markus didn't look at the man as he spoke, and his tone was that of hard acceptance and even a little broken and vulnerable. Markus knew he was too late to save his sister in his heart of hearts. He had even come to accept that he wouldn't be the one to bring her killers to justice; that is what his three months in Europe after discovering all of this had been for. There was too much unknown, and he was too disconnected. However, that didn't mean he was willing to give up, and if, in his search, he learned how to save someone else later, it would be worth it.

[Max Kuryakin]

Markus turned his eyes away, and the moment broke. Max disengaged, glancing to Ellie who was passing by as he lifted his beer for a sip. Mentally, he shook off the moment. For plain humans, it might've looked like some dumbass male posturing, but staring down a werewolf came dangerously close to an act of aggression. Max wasn't an animal, though, so he controlled his impulses. If he'd been able, he would've shaken it off bodily, but he settled for enjoying the mouthful of cool beer and a crack of his neck.

Markus has taken Max's comments in stride, though, by his dumb smile. But again, Max didn't answer the question when Markus repeated it; he didn't see the point. Grief changed a person? The answer was a resounding well, duh from him, and his expression matched that. He wasn't interested in debating it with someone who did not know what Max had experienced, and he wasn't going to share, was he?

“You think going to the library will solve the fucking death cult?” Max chuckled darkly, shaking his head a little, but he was smiling, darkly amused. Still, he held up a hand to forestall any more defensive reasonings.

“I get it. You're reading up on magic 'cause that's what killed Vicky. My point is, you going to libraries, weird secretive meetings?” Max allowed himself a smirk as he mentioned the strange meeting, picking up on Markus' frustration with it. “It's gonna get you nowhere fast. Mastery of magic takes years, man. Fucking decades, if you listen to Cessair go on about his treatises. If you want answers. Genuine fucking answers, rather than this intellectualist jerking off, ride the Exchange's ass. They’ve already done the footwork. Ride their coattails, don't go looking for your own glory.”

Max had been next to Em learning it since 2021, starting from nothing and building herself up. She was leaps and bounds ahead of this guy, and still had a long way to go. Max didn't think this guy could speed-run becoming a magician, unless he wanted to be as dead as Vicky was.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus would only raise an eyebrow at the mention of libraries and death cults. He merely shrugged his shoulders as Max held up his hand. I think they both knew Libraries weren't the answer to cults. Markus didn't quite get why the man was so against spending time learning, but he wouldn't question it. It was true; he had started all of this because of Victoria. But that wasn't why he became an Arcanist, learned magic, or studied. By his count, he had been attacked by or subject to harmful magic over four times in his first three months of searching for answers. That was why he did research, but there was no use explaining that.

“You're right, this wasn't about finding answers, and it won't get me anywhere.” Markus conceded, deciding not to mention that he disagreed with some of the points. He wasn't quite sure whether Max was trying to get him to drop the whole thing or try harder. Really, it didn't matter. Studying wouldn't teach him where to find the cult, but enchanting an amulet to negate magic might keep him alive a little longer.

“Sure, it would be great if you had some profane insight into any of the names on this list,” Markus added, tapping some of the other pages. “...but, frankly, I wanted to get you a beer out of thanks because I felt I owed it, even if you disagree,” Markus added before moving on. He knew the man didn't feel the same about that particular bit, Markus was only explaining his intentions initially before he continued.

“I wanted to talk to someone who actually knew her life in this city, who knew what she was. Besides, I wanted to let you read that journal because she died before she had the chance to apologize, and she deserved at least that much.” Markus had always intended to give the journals to the Exchange after this; he doubted they would get any more use out of the information than he did.

[Max Kuryakin]

As Markus responded, Max slumped back in his seat, giving the guy a wide eyed 'what the fuck' stare. He was trying to comprehend the conversation he was stuck in, the clear sign that the guy wasn't listening. That hadn't been close to what Max had actually said, but he was starting to get it. Markus had no fucking idea what he wanted. He'd started the conversation like he was digging and wanted to get to the bottom of things, but when confronted, he said he wasn't. Then he said he was. It was about answers, and then it wasn’t. The constant vacillation of someone who didn’t know up from down. Was that what he meant when he kept going on about grief?

Beyond that, if Markus couldn’t admit it was answers he was looking for, was he just in it for the magic? He kept failing to react to Max telling him to get out there and get something tangible done, failing to realise that so much of this wasn’t in any book. What was he looking for? A miraculous 'Monsters 101'? He seemed to be ignoring the actual wealth of information he had in front of him. How many times did Max have to say 'go to the Exchange' before the man took him seriously?

Still, the man seemed hung up on her words going beyond her death, wanting to have her say, her apology. He’d repeated that point twice in the conversation, and Max's lips thinned out at the circular conversation points. He’d accomplished this. Max had read it. He appreciated that, but it didn't change jack shit of the current reality. What did the guy want? The satisfaction of seeing another dude cry over his dead sister?

“Bro. Are you listening to me? I'm telling you how to get answers,” Max said, leaning against the bar, elbow holding him up. He was frowning now, wondering what part of 'go do something' was hard to grasp. “C'mon, man. Listen. Take this–” Max pointed at the pile, finding it irresponsible that Markus was holding onto it, showing it to him, a fireman, and not to the guys neck deep in the case, “–to the Exchange. Talk to them, crawl up their ass, I don't care. They’re the guys who know, for real, what’s up. The bona fide experts.”

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus watched the man raise his eyes, stare, and lean back. The look actually surprised him; even when getting what he wanted, an end to Markus' questions, the man was displeased. Markus really was trying to take the man's advice at face value, even if it wasn't much help. Markus had talked to the Exchange, been told he would not be allowed to help with the case, and told where he could go to learn. That was the entire reason Markus had joined the Sewing Circle.

Markus even accepted what Max said and realized that, at that moment, he didn't really know why he was in the bar with this man. He didn't really know what he was looking for. Closure, maybe, but that didn't matter. Taking a deep breath, Markus spoke. He wondered if the mistake he made was explaining himself; he thought it would at least give insight. But, as Max himself said, he didn't care.

“You make a lot of assumptions. I don't blame you; most are right, even if the conclusions are not,” Markus said, not caring anymore about how he sounded. Max didn't know what Markus had brought today or what Markus had done with the information he had. “Don't you think the Exchange was my first stop? Where do you think I got the idea to join the Sewing Circle? Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they got your name from my visit; I sent them everything the morning after I spoke with their Inquisitor long ago. If you think they will just let me walk in on a case and give me information. You don't know their Inquisitor that well.” He didn't mention that he had only given them the letters, the information with actual names and that he had found the journal after the fact. He had kept it because he didn't think those five entries, made after she fucked up, would tell them much. Other than that, she regretted her choices for what good that did her. And, maybe that was dumb of him, in that, Max was probably right.

Markus took a moment to pack everything up, including the journals, his personal notes on the case, and everything else, as he finished speaking. “But that doesn't mean I won't try.”

[Max Kuryakin]

The guy claiming Max made 'a lot of' assumptions had the werewolf angling an amused look at the man. Markus seemed to make a great many more assumptions about what Max was getting at, and yet he was still missing the point. It was a credit to him that he'd handed the stuff over to the Exchange already, at least.

Still, it only made the guy's choice of approaching Max with his questions even weirder, so long after the Exchange had asked their own. So what had Markus' idea been? Play a little Nancy Drew, waste Max's time? Max had cut him off before they'd got into it, but it hadn't saved him the headache of dealing with another intellectual with blinders. Max could see he was related to Vicky.

Markus still wasn't getting Max's point, but the werewolf didn't know how he could make it clearer. Hadn't he just said the Exchange were the experts? Markus seemed trapped in the delusion that ritual magic was the be all end all the way he kept going on about libraries and the Circle. The Circle knew their shit about rituals, but what could you learn about the dangers of the supernatural from soccer moms and bored professors? They knew their stuff, but that was only one half of what Markus was after. Knowing what he was up against, he'd said, but he didn't seem to have the sense to realise what that meant outside of rituals, or even specifically relating to Vicky.

“Crowhurst scare you off with some stern words, huh,” Max murmured knowingly, watching the man gather his things. He said it with enough familiarity that made very clear he knew Crowhurst plenty. Had even got threatened by the man, but Markus didn't need to know that.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the guy to stop pushing so hard for an agenda, to think of the bigger picture, but Max held it back. So far the guy was resistant to any advice. The Exchange would not welcome him into the case with open arms, but there were other ways of getting the things one wanted, to expand knowledge without stomping over an active case. Max settled on some parting words, as it seemed the guy was finished with their talk.

“Thanks again, though. For sharing Vicky's journal.” His voice was genuinely thankful, his smile small but honest, as he lifted his beer in a small toast. “I'm not gonna Nancy Drew it with you, but I'm relieved to have some answers about those last weeks.”

[Markus Eldridge]

Having finished packing up the items, Markus glanced Max's way at the mention of Crowhurst, especially with the familiarity he sensed in the other man's tone, but again let the comment pass. It was no use trying to explain, though he got what the man meant. The Inquisitor had been tense, that's for sure. But Markus actually felt that the Crowhurst hadn't been trying to scare him off.

If anything, the Inquisitor all but greenlit Markus. He told Markus about the Sewing Circle, about the cult when he could have kept that information to himself, and gave Markus ways to contact himself and the exchange 'if he ran into trouble.' No, if anything, the man expected that Markus wouldn't drop it. However, he made it clear that he would only work on the case if hired as a consultant or field agent. Markus was not interested in being a field agent, and if he were in control of the hiring process, even he wouldn't hire himself.

Markus gestured towards the bartender with a smile, getting her attention. “One more, please,” he asked, as he nodded towards Max. “And anything else he wants. Please put it all on my card.” Markus informed, still fully intending to go through with what he said, and if Max wanted another, he would include that. If not, then that would be fine as well.

“Of course, and do not worry, I have no intention of asking you anything more,” Markus responded, towards Max. He understood how nice the answers were, though he had no intention of looking for a partner, especially one with such a different opinion. And, he no longer intended to ask his remaining questions; he knew Max had no interest.

[Max Kuryakin]

As the man packed his things, he didn't move to leave immediately. So the man wasn't as much of a brat as his sister was. Max made the observation with a fond thought to her, now that he knew she hadn't just blown him off. Her pride just hadn't let her back down while he was pressing her. Max could understand it, he didn't tend to back down either, stubborn in his own way. His goal was generally just being heard and understood, not necessarily agreed with.

So far, those inclined towards ritual magic had a bad track record with him. Emily managed it fine, but maybe it was because she didn't have any preconceived notions about him. She'd studied with him, knew he had as much academic chops as anyone else. Meanwhile, others seemed to not bother to stop and listen, or understand what he meant. Different, each time, so Max didn't have a pattern to study yet.

He was a bit glad to have left the academic environment behind when he finished his Masters. He'd felt a bit too... worldly and practical in the face of his fellow graduate students, even if they'd only been about five years younger than him. Now, adding Fire Science to his resume, things were a bit different. More practical, in that he was using it for work every single day.

But the werewolf refocused on the conversation, wondering if Markus' formal language was because of upset or habit. It lacked an inflection that'd let Max know, so he'd assume habit until proved otherwise.

“Risky,” Max mused, grinning, when Markus essentially opened up a tab for them. He did not allude to how much he could put away as a werewolf, his resistance something out of the ordinary. Instead, Max took a sip and looked at the man over the edge of his glass. “Do you have any questions not related to a murder? I'd happily answer those.”

[Markus Eldridge]

Taking a long draft of his drink, Markus considered their conversation as it lulled. While he didn't quite understand the other man's disconnect between preparation and action, he respected the focus on the latter. All too often, people prepped and prepped and prepped and never once actually took the steps needed to get anything actionable done. Had Markus fallen into that trap? It was hard to know, though he absolutely could be doing more.

He grinned at Max's comment, seeming to think it was risky for Markus to offer as he did. Markus only gave a slight grin in response; he hadn't been sure how much longer he was going to stay and was prepared to leave after his next drink if it seemed there was contention between the two, but it seemed to be quickly disappearing. As Max asked his following question, Markus would contemplate. He had plenty of questions but didn't know which ones would be considered rude.

He did, however, remember a comment Max made early in the conversation that came to the surface. “Spirits, when I mentioned the one at the nightclub, you said something about having dealt with a similar event?”

[Max Kuryakin]

Mid-sip when the delayed follow up came, Max hummed with his full mouth before swallowing. Putting the beer down, he huffed out a laugh. He wasn't surprised the man hooked onto a common experience. Max had just run into two ghosts in his life, and one was his roommate.

“Yeah, man. First time I met that Mac guy—or Malcolm, I guess? Some go-go dancer looking lady ghost came at us while we were talking.” Flirting, really. Max said it with a jump of his eyebrows, a quiet 'what the fuck' to the whole scenario.

It had been all the way back in '22, a year and change before the odd meeting in Boston. A lot of things had changed. He'd barely recognised the guy across the table, that's how much time had separated the two meetings.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus took a drink of his beer and gave Max a sideways glance, listening as the other man spoke. As the details came out, he would match the man's 'what the fuck' look. The story seemed almost too familiar. Markus had also been with Mac when he had his run-in.

“I'm just curious... Barbaros? Was the spirit able to mess with your emotions?” Markus asked, curious if they had, in fact, run into the same spirit. Mac had mentioned that he had run into the being before when they were fighting it, and now that Max mentioned he was with Mac, it felt too coincidental. “I was also with Malcolm when I had my encounter. He mentioned running into it before.” Markus said with a scoff, shaking his head.

[Max Kuryakin]

Max frowned gently when Markus mentioned Barbarous, brows furrowing just enough to show he was baffled at the man managing to make the guess. The incredulity only increased when the man described the way the ghost manipulated them, messing with their heads.

“What? You're telling me he went after it again?” His tone was incredulous, more so than it might've been before that summer of '23 and Mac's pleas for safety together. It seemed he invited some of the risk with open arms.

The details were hazy for Max. He'd lost his head, thanks to the constant rage she'd been pushing into it. Wild and shifted, he'd run and found more trouble that night. He hadn't seen Mac until he'd walked into that room after walking through a truly fucking bizarre party. God, the prison orange alone, Christ.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus shook his head as Max asked him the question. The redhead had noticed the slight response to his guesses and was only mildly surprised that they had fought the same being. If anything, that made him feel better.

“No, not really,” Markus said, trying to remember the events leading up to the encounter. “Byte was hosting a date night event, pushing a new product. I didn't know about it when I went to there to relax,” Markus explained, drinking his beer.

“While there, I ran into Mac, and we started talking. During the conversation, the spirit showed up, obviously gunning for him and very angry.” Markus finished, shaking his head as he remembered the encounter in full. That was the first time Markus had done a ritual without supervision or pre-planning. He had thrown it together on the spot while Mac fought the spirit, forgetting to work out his power source. He would never forget the drain he felt as the ritual took the magic from him.

[Max Kuryakin]

Max's frown was still stuck on his expression when Markus went into more detail. He wasn't entirely convinced it was all innocent, knowing Byte's apparent angle. It was a bit too convenient to be an accident, but Max hadn't known Mac at all. Was he the kind of guy who'd risk others for the sake of a trap?

Shaking his head a little, Max shut down that train of thought. It didn't matter now. “Well, at least I know it wasn't going for me,” he muttered, grimacing a little as he lifted his beer for another sip. He'd avoided the place like the plague for a bit after. “I stopped going to Barbarous a bit after that, but I've been back since. Nothing weird has happened. Well, nothing ghostly, at least.”

As he corrected himself, Max huffed a laugh. Plenty of weird things went down, but his run in with the ghost—and Sarah—had been one-offs so far.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus saw and understood the grimace, and he nodded along when Max mentioned that he had stopped going to the club for a while. Markus had actually not been back either. The encounter with the ghost had been his last straw, his broken collom. It was why Markus had gone on his little vacation.

“I understand that I haven't been back since,” Markus said, taking a drink. “Hopefully, so long as no one opens that cage, the spirit should always have trouble affecting anyone else,” Markus said as an off-comment, thinking back towards the ritual. He knew Mac wanted to move the cage, maybe buy it from the club, but Markus had never checked in on what had happened after the enchantment.

[Max Kuryakin]

Lifting his beer for a sip, Max was listening to Markus. Relaxed, because whatever was going on at Barbarous hadn't come up since. Mid-sip, though, Markus' words registered and he narrowly avoided a spit take.

Lowering the beer, frowning again, confused and looking for clarification. “What do you mean?” He was trying not to jump to conclusions, mindful of the off-hand remark lacking much detail, but it didn't sound good.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus paused, thinking about what he was going to say and how he would explain what he meant. He didn't see any reason to hide the magic he had done, though there was a part of him that hesitated. Not only was he unsure about sharing with Max, but he eyed the bartender briefly before speaking up a bit softer.

“Well, as you know, the spirit influences and manipulates anger.” Markus started, his eyes unfocused as he thought about it. “I decided to minimize that ability. During the conflict, I cast a ritual which enchanted the cage it was within.” Markus tried to explain.

“I induced magical elements to interfere with its abilities or any magical ability used by something within the cage... Think of it as magical white noise?... The idea is that it would negate most, if not all, of those influences so long as the cage is closed. It isn't perfect, but it worked.” He said, hoping he explained it well enough. It was strange to think this was a 'normal' conversation at the bar.

[Max Kuryakin]

The magic didn't interest Max much at all, more wizards getting caught up in the theory rather than the practical realities. He listened, of course, comparing it to his own research into nullification. A different approach, for sure, and something Markus could test where Max was unwilling to risk it. All of his work would have to be handed to someone else, but Max was only toying with the idea of something to nullify the magic he came across.

“Yeah, alright. Containment makes sense,” Max said slowly, but leaned forward and tapped a finger against the bar top as he licked his lips and asked the more important question. “But did you just leave it there?” He was frowning, but he was controlling his tone so he didn't come across as accusatory. From everything, it didn't seem like Markus had been the person in control, just the guy to do the dirty work.

A ghost that was angry even when allowed to roam free, trapped and ripe for being stumbled on by any stupid idiot who had no idea. They'd set up a powder keg by containing it, but if they hadn't moved it from the nightclub, or warned someone who could, they were a special kind of short sighted.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus understood the question. Max always seemed to consider the practical, a good trait; one Markus wasn't always good at himself. So, he appreciated it. He would nod in confirmation before speaking up.

“Yeah, Mac planned to move the cage and relocate it. The last thing we need is someone not in the know, with my luck, stumbling upon an angry spirit.” Markus answered honestly, even though technically, he wasn't sure the task was actually done.

He had been adamant that they handled the situation correctly, though he wasn't at the time able to do anything about the cage. Mac had been confident that he could deal with it. Especially when, that night, Byte was having a special event anyway.

[Max Kuryakin]

'Planned to', but Markus didn't know if it'd happened. Max wasn't so sure he'd be content to stay in the dark about something he'd ostensibly created, but he kept mum, shaking his head and leaning back. He wasn't sure he'd be so content for Malcom-Mac-whoever to be the one to take it, either, but he hadn't had the best re-introduction to the guy.

“Man, I hope he did,” Max muttered, letting his hand slip off the bar top and reaching for his beer glass. In the idea of being better safe than sorry, he'd still pass this on to the Exchange front desk. Best case, the cage wasn't there but they knew someone had a contained ghost. Worst case, it was still there, but they knew how to deal with it. Still... Max looked to Markus, quirking an eyebrow. “Do you like... trust the guy with that? A contained ghost?”

A furious ghost who probably used to be human, and was furious for a reason if Max had his onryo stories right. A full blown... killing? Defeat? That would've been the better choice, rather than containment, but from what he understood from Cessair, not everyone knew how. Christ, Max couldn't even do anything like that, unless he found a way to make his claws hurt and banish ghosts.

[Markus Eldridge]

Markus wasn't in the best state after the encounter with the ghost, and frankly, if he ever saw Mac again, he knew he would have questions. Mostly to satisfy his own curiosity, but there were genuine concerns he hadn't thought about until now.

As Max muttered, Markus decided to let it go. He was in agreement, and he hoped Mac would hold up his end of the deal. But it was too late for doubts now. Instead, he turned to face the other man, his question hanging in the air. It was a difficult question for Markus to answer, and he pondered over it, his tongue clicking in thought.

“I have faith that Mac will act in his own best interest,” Markus replied honestly, but he knew it wasn't a satisfying answer. “I can't say that I trust Mac as a person; he is too... you know... for that, and I distanced myself from him for a reason.” Markus took a sip of his drink, his gaze distant.

“However, he has always watched out for himself, and from what I see, at least cares about not directly harming people. That ghost was pretty dead set on killing him, for whatever reason, so I don't think he would let it out until he figured out a way to destroy it... if such a thing is even possible.” Markus said with a slight shrug.

It was still difficult for him to consider how much things had changed. Everything he read about ghosts, at least from a mythology standpoint, said they were once human. It was hard to think how destroying something like that was any different than killing someone. He wasn't sure if imprisonment or destruction was better in this case, and there was no case law for dealing with murderous ghosts as far as he knew.

[Max Kuryakin]

Max slanted a look Marcus' way at the phrasing, but he got it. Some people just... looked out for themselves, and sometimes that worked out for the people around them. Sometimes it didn't. This case felt like a bit of both. Trusted him to get the ghost out of there, possibly didn't trust him to do the right thing with a tortured murderous ghost.

Nothing to do but incline his head and nod at Markus' words. What was done was done, and it didn't sound like Marcus had much say either way. Max would pass the word along anyway, make sure it was dealt with. Extra assurance wasn't a bad thing.

“I don't know much about that,” the werewolf admitted, shaking his head a little as he downed the last of his beer. “Getting rid of ghosts, that is. But there is a way, according to Cessair. I didn't stick around to hear how, though.”