That Bloody Beaded Bag of yours! -Sapphire-

“

If Maximilian wasn't in the forges at this time of the day, he could only be in one other place. That would be the Arts and Crafts shack. Even if Max didn't really consider himself an artist, he sure enjoyed art. He did hope that he was better at it though, especially now that he was trying to paint a picture of X3, his robo-dog. Max huffed as he stared at his work - mostly comprised of a mess of white and black blobs. Slightly annoyed with himself, Max dumped his paintbrush a little too roughly in the white paint and splashed it across the canvas to start once more... for the nth time, if I might add.

Only then when the brush merely left a grainy trail of white did Max notice that he was out of paint. Sighing to himself, he made a quick trip to the supply room and that was when he made a little mistake. The son of Hephaestus filled the can to the brim that any slight movement caused the liquid to trail down the edges and drip into his fingers. Thinking that it was just something he could easily handle, Max walked back to his spot in slow and carefully controlled steps, spotting out of the corner of his eye a girl who had just emptied most of the contents of her bag into a table. Paying her no heed, Max smiled in relief when he saw that the canvas was just a few steps away. He could make it without most of the paint spilling into his hands. Just few more steps when...

"AHA!"

And that was how Max had paid for his negligence, as half of the white paint sloshed out of its container when the boy jumped at the sudden sound. It was bad enough that his fingers were covered in the white liquid. What was worse was how the paint splattered on the girl's table, effectively coloring most of her materials a pure white. Uh oh. It better not have subjected the girl herself to the same treatment, or else Max would just die of embarrassment.

Still in shock at what had just happened, Max looked up at the girl in slow motion like a deer caught in the headlights. I'm so so sorry... he thought, but instead of speaking, he only ended up looking into the girl's eyes and mouthing the words. Oh no. What would he do if she somehow took it the wrong way?

“

Fortunately, Max didn't have to worry about dealing with a very angry girl. However, her reaction wasn't really quite what he had expected. If it was a show of indifference or a cold shoulder, Max wouldn't have been surprised. But looking like a kid in a candy store after what had happened? Well, that one didn't really make it to his 'expecting-to-see' list. Not that he was complaining, but still. Blinking a few times to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, Max was even more taken aback when she suddenly wrapped him in a hug. He stayed rooted to the floor even after she had let go, noting that she didn't seem phased about the whole thing, not even when she got some paint on her clothes thanks to the hug. At any rate, her apparent joy didn't stop the guilt from tugging at his gut and Max quickly grabbed a clean rag to help wipe the paint off the table. Even if the girl seemed overjoyed by his screwup, that didn't give him an excuse to leave her to her own devices in cleaning up.

Max allowed the corners of his lips twitch up in a smile when Brianna introduced herself. Knowing that it was his turn, he quickly raised his paint-covered hand up as a signal to wait and ran over to where his canvas was. He came back a few moments later with a sheet of paper and a pencil. Normally Max would've used his multi-purpose wristwatch to introduce himself, but the gadget was safely tucked in his pocket and he'd rather jump off a cliff than run the risk of getting paint on the thing. Some quick scrawling in Ancient Greek later, Max smiled and held up the paper for Brianna to read.

“

Max was close to laughter, but it looked like he was forcing it back. Probably because he didn't want his voice heard. After all, most of the people in camp assumed that he was born mute. Max didn't feel like correcting them, and besides, the less they knew about his past, the better. If he had a complicated name, he still wouldn't feel like correcting people had they pronounced it wrong. As he felt lucky that his mother had chosen this name for him (even if the non-shortened version was quite a mouthful), a small voice in the back of his mind nagged him a little. Were the Fates kind enough to grant him such a simple name, knowing what was to come?

Putting that random thought aside, he bent over and stared at the paper for a few seconds in hesitation. He snuck a quick glance at Brianna, now in the process of sewing. He backtracked to when he spilled paint on her work and recalled how she took it so positively. Did she really mean that? Or was she just a great actress and made it look like she was so okay with it when she secretly wanted to hack his head off with a blunt axe in revenge? Max swallowed thickly at that. Why did he have such a wild imagination? Shaking his head slightly at his paranoia, he reluctantly jotted down what was on his mind.

“

Max grinned back, taking a few moments of silence to consider her words. She did have a fair point. Though he didn't know her well enough, Max already felt a tad bit jealous of Brianna. To grow up with that kind of philosophy was a rarity in itself. The daughter of Dionysus was lucky to think that way and he envied her for it. Still, he didn't let that small thing stop him from enjoying her company and now here he was, moving his painting equipment closer so he could sit with her.

He made a slight face once he saw the mess of black and white on his canvas. A little embarrassed that Brianna had to see it, Max hastened to pull out a picture of X3 from his jacket pocket and showed it to her. The robo-dog had just been finished then, seated on top of a wooden table while surrounded by an array of tools and spare parts. Majority of its rounded body was painted a glossy white. The top of its head, neck, paws and underside were a sleek black. Although his failure of a painting didn't resemble the picture in any way, Max still found himself beaming proudly, excited for what Brianna had to say.

“

Still grinning, Max nodded as he slipped the picture back in his jacket. Maybe he could introduce X3 to Brianna sometime. He continued to smile as he resumed painting, just happy to have some company.

At Brianna's invitation, Max straightened up in his seat and beamed up at her, eyes twinkling in sincere joy. His grin faded a little though. Brianna didn't have many friends? Max found it hard to believe. It was so easy to get along with her. And that was coming from someone who accidentally spilled paint on the girl's things. He cocked her head to the side as he gave her a curious look, making no attempt to hide his confusion.

“

Max continued to sneak glances at Brianna as he began painting. He didn't really pay much heed to what he was doing now, even if the white and black blotches looked even messier than before. He was more concerned with the daughter of Dionysus. Though she showed a cheery disposition to pretty much everything, Max had that lingering doubt that there was more to it than meets the eye. After all, the loneliest people can be the kindest, and the saddest ones smiled the brightest.

Absently peeling off the bits of paint that stuck to his fingers and the brush handle, Max smiled and excitedly nodded. It'd be nice to be around someone that wasn't made of metal and microchips for a change.

Then he cringed slightly, noticing her pricked finger. He only had time to catch a glimpse of the very minimal amount of blood when he turned away so quickly that black paint splattered across the canvas. Max never liked blood, not since... Repressing a shudder, he focused hard on painting as an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts.

“

Max didn't want to look at Brianna's finger even if the wound was already safely covered up, but it was quite hard not to when she held it up for him to see. A little amused by the My Little Pony graphics, he managed a half-hearted smile and returned his attention to the canvas. He didn't really mean to ignore her question, but it was something he'd rather not talk about - literally and figuratively, of course. The innocently harmless question drew out the more melancholic side of Max Grant, and it was easy to see from how he stared fixedly at the canvas yet not really seeing the black stains. Instead, he saw another blot of what could pass as paint, a deep crimson blot on the floor...

Max drew in a rough breath and shook his head vigorously. No, not again. He couldn't have that flashback again, not now. Patting his shaggy brown bangs down on his forehead, Max swallowed thickly and gave Brianna another smile. Had she noticed his little... 'episode'? If so, he hoped that this smile would be enough to reassure her. It's nothing. I'm okay, he wanted to tell her. I'm okay. It was what he kept telling himself.

“

Max tensed at her touch. He wasn't used to physical contact, but he let her stroke his hair all the same. It reminded him of home, sadly enough, and the soothing tone Brianna spoke in didn't make him feel any better. That was the kind of tone he hadn't heard in a long time.

Blinking back tears, Max nodded his assent. He wouldn't let himself tear up now, not in this crowded place and certainly not in Brianna's sight. He didn't want to look like a complete wuss in front of his new friend, not even if she told him that it was okay to cry. For him it wasn't.

Taking a deep breath to collect himself, Max pointed to where her half-finished bag lay on the table - a reminder and a subtle attempt to shift the topic of the conversation at the same time.