#so i just quit halfway through and made a ton of random gifs from my fave max videos

[overtake]

just a teenage girl, 26 years of age

[fortunexfinder]

time/location: firebrand’s first night in manor, 2020, billiards room

status: closed to @firebrcnd

There was a bit of tradition the Collective had, one that detailed that any villain’s first night in the manor was one worthy of celebration. Overload had taken up the mantle of organizing these affairs since she reached tier two status, which usually involved a ton of booze, numerous boxes of pizza from the local pizzeria, and whatever cake the grocery store was practically giving away because someone failed to pick up the order.

Fortune only attended about half the parties that Overload threw- his attendance relying solely on how bored he was, or if he was looking to get laid. Tonight it was a bit of both- although he swore to himself to stay clear of Lazarus to fill that urge again. That was a mistake he’d never repeat again, even if the other villain was annoyingly good in bed.

When he steps inside the billiards room, Overload is the first to greet him, her smile wide as she nears him with what looks like a plate of that evening’s choice of cake. “So nice of you to dress up for the newb, Fortune, “ she teases him as she plucks the shoulder of his robe. He fondly smacks her hand away before straightening the length of fabric on his shoulder that she’d just touched. His wardrobe almost entirely consisted of luxury loungewear when it came to his time off the job, so he knew she really wasn’t all that surprised at all.

“Who are we celebrating tonight?” He asks as he eyes the cake on her plate, there was a large red icing rose on it, so he could only guess it was someone’s birthday or a romantic gesture. 

“Well, according to the dessert, we’re celebrating Mike and Maureen’s 20th Wedding Anniversary. You should try it, it’s strawberry, I don’t know why Maureen pulled a Karen and made the store make a new one,” she shrugs her shoulders before taking a bite. “As for the real guest of honor, his name his Firebrand. He’s... kind of The Shadow Man’s son?? I dunno, I’ve been explained the situation at least three times tonight and each time I get too bored to follow it.”

Overload seems to scan the room then, seemingly looking for the guest of honor when suddenly she spots him. “Ah there he is!” She points him out with the tip of her fork. “He’s talking to V, god I hope he’s a former super fan or something. That’d be hilarious.”

Following Overload’s fork, his eyes land on the new villain in question- and oh.... Overload failed to mention just how pretty the newbie was. She seems to read his mind though, and he can see her roll her eyes under her signature glasses. “Ew. And that’s my cue to leave. Just don’t like break his heart or whatever. I have a reputation to uphold of being a great party thrower, and I don’t need your sex drive ruining it.”

He shoos her away with another fond smack, before he refocuses his attention on the guest of honor. He should really not sleep with a newbie quite literally on their first night there- but this one he figures was pretty enough to be an exception. When their eyes meet for the first time his lips pull into a knowing slanted smirk. and he openly gives the new villain a once over. He’s the one to look away first, as he figures its best to leave the fish on the line for a little longer before reeling him in. Grabbing himself a drink he strikes up a random conversation, and halfway through it looks back over to Firebrand, and repeats the same look and once over he’d given him before. 

Like before he looks away again, but just long enough to finish his conversation and drink before looking Firebrand’s way again. This time when their eyes meet he grins widely this time, ever much like the cat that got the cream, and shoots a wink before making his way to the door, assuming the recruit was sharp enough to pick up on the fact he was supposed to follow him.

After leaving the billiards room, he doesn’t wait for Firebrand to catch up as he makes his way towards the stairs and eventually leads him to the portrait room on the next floor up. He’s fully relaxed on the couch at the far end of the room, just in front of the window, when the door opens, briefly bathing the once moonlit room in the yellow light of the hallway.

“Lock the door and keep the lights off,” He instructs as his way of introduction.