Re: Mayflowers: Max and Solas
Max's brow lifted when the man - now she was questioning its gender - when the possible man pressed his lips into a thin line. She repeated the word, just because, and then she laughed an earthy laugh at her own immaturity. Finding humor was the most ridiculous mid-life crisis. It might be worse than finding the boy-nerd with the obsession for video games; she wasn't sure which ranked higher.
But back to the elf.
He was talking about inquisitions, and he was using words that she was sure the geeks across the street would know. They sounded like comic book words, or maybe words used in games with those dice that had too many sides. She always thought those words sounded too dramatic, like when teenage girls came up with names for their future, self-image offspring princess-daughters.
But she wasn't completely heartless, and if this man had come from a different door, then this must all be a mess for him. She equated it to her own confusion when Erik tried to convince her JFK was a mutant. She leaned back against the register, arms over her stomach as she regarded him. "We don't have any of those places in this- place. I might have someone who can help, but you need to hangout while I get him over here," she offered. If anyone could place the wayward elf - elf was still the frontrunner - it would be McKendrick.
She nodded to the door at his back. "You don't want to wander around out there if you're from somewhere without cars. They'll run you over. Splat." With a hand-gesture, in case he wasn't getting the meaning of the word.