#that when it comes to taste our judgments are not neutral or objective but rather rooted in social identity and meaning
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mostly appreciate the presence of the rat-adj crowd on here but sometimes they can't help but completely miss the point of a certain discourse (or they do a strawman and claim that the weakest or most ridiculous takes are best representation of the entire discussion) and then proceed to do the usual smug and superior act and try and dismiss the whole thing as stupid and it's super frustrating and disappointing
#like if you really don't understand that this discussion is about how the racialization of cultural products impacts how they are received#then idk what to tell u ur kind of being purposefully obtuse and ignorant#no one is OBLIGATED to be a fan of any particular work or type of art but the point of this discourse is to call attention to the fact#that when it comes to taste our judgments are not neutral or objective but rather rooted in social identity and meaning#that's like sociology 101 man i literally took that quote from the menswear guy's blog#poast#delete later
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To advance into detachment is to strip ourselves of all our reasons for action, and by losing the benefit of our defects and our vices, to founder in that depression which is the absence following upon the disappearance of our appetites, an anxiety that has degenerated into indifference, submersion in neutrality.
If, in wisdom, we set ourselves above life and death, in depression (as the failure of wisdom) we fall below them.
It is there that appearances are leveled, that diversity is invalidated.
The consequences are dreadful for the writer especially, for if all the aspects of the world are worth the same thing, he cannot incline toward one rather than than another; whence his impossibility of choosing a subject: which to prefer, if the objects themselves are interchangeable and indistinct?
Being itself is banished from this perfect desert as too picturesque.
We are at the heart of the undifferentiated, of the dim and seamless One, where, in place of illusion, spreads a prostrate illumination, in which all is revealed to us, yet this illumination is so contrary to our nature that we long only to forget it.
On the basis of what he knows, of what he knows about, no one can move forward, the man of depression less than any other; he lives in the center of a heavy unreality: the nonexistence of things weighs upon him.
To fulfill himself, merely to breathe, he must emancipate himself from his knowledge.
And thus he conceives of salvation by non-knowledge.
He will accede to it only by striving against the spirit of disinterestedness and objectivity.
An ill-founded, partial, "subjective" judgment constitutes a source of dynamism: on the level of action, only the false is charged with reality--but when we are doomed to an exact view of ourselves and the world, what can we adhere to, what can we still speak of?
There was once a madman in us; the sage has driven him out.
With him gone our most precious possession, which made us accept appearances without having to practice at every turn that discrimination between the real and the illusory which is so detrimental to them.
So long as our madman was there, we had nothing to fear, nor did appearances, which--an uninterrupted miracle--were transformed into things before our eyes.
Once the madman was gone, appearances came down in the world, relapsed into their first indigence. (state of extreme poverty)
Now, no interest, no vantage point.
The real vertigo is the absence of madness.
To realize oneself is to dedicate oneself to the intoxication of multiplicity.
In the One, nothing counts but the One itself.
Let us fracture it then, if we seek to escape the sorcery of indifference, if we want the monotony in and around us to come to an end.
All that shimmers on the surface of the world, all that we call interesting, is the fruit of inebriation and ignorance.
No sooner have we sobered up than we distinguish everywhere merely repetition and desolation.
The consequence of blindness, diversity collapses upon contact with depression, which is a knowledge blasted, a perverse taste for identity, and a dread of the new.
When this dread grips us, when there is no event which fails to seem to us both impenetrable and ridiculous, when there is no change, of any order, which does not proceed from mystery and farce, it is not of God that we dream, it is of the deity, of the immutable essence which does not deign to create or even to exist, and which, by its absence of determinations, prefigures that indefinite and insubstantial moment, symbol of our inconclusiveness.
If from the evidence of Antiquity, destiny chooses to pull down all that is raised up, depression is the price man must pay for his elevation.
But depression, beyond man, doubtless affects to a lesser degree every living being which in one way or another diverges from its origins.
Life itself is exposed to depression once it slows down its course and calms the frenzy which sustains and animates it.
For what is life, in the last resort, but a phenomenon of fury?
A blessed fury, to which it behooves us to submit.
Once it seizes us, our unsatisfied impulses awaken: the more repressed they were, the more violently they break loose.
Despite its painful aspects, the spectacle we then afford proves that we are reinstating our true condition, our nature, however contemptible and even odious it may be.
Better to be effortlessly abject than 'noble' by imitation or persuasion.
An innate vice being preferable to an acquired virtue, we necessarily feel awkward in the presence of those who do not accept themselves, the monk, the prophet, the philanthropist, the miser who drives himself to expenditure, the ambitious man who forces himself into resignation, the arrogant man who affects consideration for others--in the presence of all who keep watch upon themselves, not excepting the wise man, the sage, the man who controls and constrains himself, who is never himself.
Acquired virtue forms a foreign body; we like it neither in others nor in ourselves: it is a victory over the self which pursues us, a success that overwhelms us and makes us suffer even when we pride ourselves upon it.
Let each man be satisfied with what he is: is not the desire to improve oneself the same as a taste for torture and misfortune?
The Fall Into Time
EM Cioran
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Fairchild, Part I || Xavier & Maximus
Xavier: "What an incredible waste." Xavier looked around what should have been a stunning, lavishly decorated foyer and was instead a poorly lit, apparent monument to dust used only to hold the front door. "All this money, and look what you did with it. Disgraceful."
Looking around, no one could have or would have ever guessed that anyone at all had been living in the manor for decades on end. Missing bulbs, layer upon layer of dust, dead plants in dry vases were everywhere. A veritable sea of cobwebs in every corner, a garden run wild visible from every dirty window. Only the kitchen and library showed any signs of life at all, and Xavier strongly suspected that was only because the manor's former occupant was forced to eat by human biology.
It would take months to restore the estate to a respectable status worthy of its grandeur. Whoever appeared was certainly going to have their work cut out for them.
"Best get on with it." Xavier looked down at the incomplete circle at his feet, consulting with the parchment in his hand to guide him through the last bits of its construction. When it and the accompanying ritual were complete, his new home would have a butler.
Maximus: Maximus looked up from his newspaper, cigarette clenched between his teeth. The sensation always began between his legs, and he could not, for the sanity of things, figure out why that was necessary.
Quickly, he disappeared, reappearing on the other side of the Crawford manor. With haste he gathered his things. Squishing everything he owned in what felt like record time. Cigarette smoke began to crowd his head.
It was only a matter of time. He could make assumptions of this next demon, but he was usually wrong.
The tingle became an itch wrapping around his spine...
A man appeared center of the summoning circle. Tall, pale, dark neatly parted hair, sharp jaw, and quiet curiosity upon his brow. A long black coat and leather gloves. A cigarette between his fingers and a tan leather briefcase clenched in the other.
A quick judgement of his new master, and the demon bowed his head.
"Sir."
Xavier: Xavier didn't know what to expect, so what he received was quite the pleasant surprise.
His new butler certainly looked the part.
"I shall have to remember to thank my father," he chuckled, folding the parchment and slipping it inside his inside pocket. "I was apprehensive about hiring on another demon but you'll do quite nicely. What is your name?"
Maximus: Light gray eyes followed his hands. Must be a young demon, he speculated. Crawford had confessed to memorizing the ritual. Then again, Crawford never liked being alone.
"Fairchild, sir. Maximus Fairchild."
Xavier: "Very well, Fairchild. I am Xavier Atlas. You may call me 'my lord'. This," he swept an arm around the mess, "is your new pet mess, and my recently commandeered home."
Maximus: Of course, English. A wave of nostalgia at the phrase 'my lord'. It had been some time...
"Yes, m'lord." He assessed his surroundings. "Where would you prefer I put my things?" His accent was almost neutral. The most subtle hints of Louisiana filtering from his subconscious.
Xavier: "That is the question, isn't it? Bloody academics," he muttered, rubbing away part of the summoning circle and heading for the stairs. "Come along, Fairchild. Leave your case for now."
Maximus: Well, whomever had taught his new master taught him well. Free of his cage, he stepped forward and followed. The case and his coat were left behind. He felt for his hat - forgotten. Oh well.
Xavier: "This estate is located in Northern California. It is secluded, a single private road is the only way in other than trekking through the woods. It stretches for two miles and there is a gate a mile in. The closest town is called Paradise. I'll acquire a vehicle in due course. Do you drive?"
Maximus: He soon fell in step an arm's length behind. "I've learned, m'lord. Might I ask what supplies are in stock? I would like to get started right away."
Xavier: "Precious little, I'm afraid. My predecessor apparently only ate enough to survive. I can only smell traces of coffee, oatmeal, and pipe smoke. The rest of the house is empty and filthy. He didn't even bother covering the furniture with sheets so even the upholstery is caked with dust."
Maximus: "So, no cleaning supplies, then." As he followed behind, he felt the balustrade, the windowsill, the forgotten painting on the wall. The tip of his glove was atrocious.
Xavier: "Not even that. I did find some opium should that take your fancy."
Maximus: "Is it not yours, m'lord?"
Xavier: "It's never appealed. I prefer wine. I collect it. There's a door in the kitchen I imagine leads to a wine cellar. If not, I'll have one put in. Right then."
Having reached the end of the hall, Xavier opened a set of double doors. They led to a large cluttered library which contained one of the few spots in the house free of dust: a desk piled with books and papers and pens and all manner of academic implements. "Library. I'd like one of your first tasks to be locating the blueprints to this house. He designed it himself, so they're bound to be in here."
Maximus: The library was given as much evaluation as every object in the house, the same judgmental gaze which had fallen on his superior. Without his coat, his physique revealed strength and rigidity. Perfect posture, tension in his shoulders, and a strong chest. Lips red as though stained with wine parted. He itched for the cigarette he had discarded.
"If it is not here, I can make one, sir - m'lord."
Xavier: “Appreciated, Fairchild. I’d also like any personal documents he kept examined. Keep and organize financial records only, burn the rest. Same goes for his works. I’ve no interest in obscure Russian literature or his ramblings on the subject.”
Xavier swept one last distasteful look at the disarray before turning back to his new butler.
Handsome. Well-groomed. Strong. Like a toy soldier.
The faintest smile curved Xavier’s lips. “Come along, Fairchild. Let us get you acquainted with the kitchen and your quarters.”
Maximus: Neither did he, having played charades with a Russian demon decades ago. The memory left a bad taste in his mouth.
His head lowered submissively. Refreshing, having a master taller than himself. Their relationship felt balanced, somehow.
Early on he had learned not to ask many questions, but he was curious. He wanted to know how old his master was. Young, but younger than himself? He felt a sense of composure not many of his kind could. His thoughts were his own. His only sense of privacy given by the scar on his scalp.
Quietly, he followed behind.
Xavier: The kitchen was another area marginally free of dust that showed vague signs of life. The stove was used regularly, the refrigerator was not. Dirty dishes were in one side of the sink and clean ones were on the other.
On the counter was a canister of oats and a sugar bowl. In the pantry, more oats and sugar, coffee, and a few cans of evaporated milk. Nothing else.
Maximus: "Did you kill a hermit, or did he die of malnutrition, m'lord?"
Xavier: “An academic hermit,” Xavier said casually. “A dull but intelligent man. Still, what the chase lacked in physical prowess it made up for in other ways. At least for a while. Carnation and oatmeal can only get a man so far.”
Maximus: "...Will there be people asking questions, or have you sorted that out already?"
Xavier: “I have the practicalities in hand. Damien Eisley will have appeared to move away after having sold his estate to a dashing wealthy Englishman. He was an only child and his parents are long dead. He never married.”
Maximus: Dashing, are you? Confident, no doubt. "Wrapped up nicely, then." He smiled politely. A well-practiced gesture. "The library, the blueprints...is there anything else pressing, m'lord?"
Xavier: "Yes. Lists. One for everything you require to set this place to rights, one for the gardens, one for structural and cosmetic repairs that need to be made, and one for things that need to be purchased. Appliances, furniture, and the like."
Maximus: "Am I to choose all of it?"
Xavier: "For now I'd like your recommendations. Once we can actually see what we have and take proper stock we'll plot our next course. There's every possibility I could hate all the furniture and decide to hire a decorator."
Maximus: Somehow, his servant managed to straighten further. "As you wish. I'll begin with supplies. I'll assess damages as well. If you'll allow me to get started, there is something I must ask of you, m'lord."
Xavier: Xavier nodded. This would work well. Fairchild seemed to have enough backbone for a task like this, not that it was really a choice.
“Go on then.”
Maximus: He looked around the kitchen. The old dish towel collecting dust would do. Carefully, a strip was ripped away and offered.
"Please tie this to one of my wrists."
Xavier: Xavier watched his new butler curiously. He’d expected to be asked for something, perhaps permission for something or other, not to be handed a dusty strip of cloth.
“Is this part of your ritual, Fairchild?”
Maximus: "It's part of another ritual, yes. I would prefer you see which is wearing this so there is no mistake."
Xavier: "Does it have to be cloth?"
Maximus: "Easier to remove. I've always used cloth."
Xavier: "Hmm. I rather think we can do better than that." He was quiet for a moment, staring at nothing and seemingly lost in thought. "Ah, I know which one."
No sooner had the words been spoken than a gold watch with a black leather band appeared in Xavier's hand. "Will this serve your purposes?"
Maximus: His eyes fell to the ground while his master contemplated. The cloth was placed on the kitchen counter.
Oh. The demon stared at the watch a moment before daring to look into his eyes.
"Do you know what I'm about to do, sir?"
Xavier: He'd be met with a steady, gently inquisitive gaze. "Can't say that I do, Fairchild. Please, enlighten me."
Maximus: "I'm going to begin my duties. It's much easier to see than explain. What's most important is you know the one wearing this," the watch he gently took from his master's hand, "is the true me."
Xavier: "Ah, I see." Xavier nodded as understanding dawned. "Very well. And very efficient. Would you like to select your bedroom now or after you've finished?"
Maximus: "I don't...sleep, sir. I would rather get started."
Xavier: "We all need somewhere to hang our hat, Fairchild. Come along. It will only take a moment." With that, he started toward a small hallway just off the kitchen.
It led to a slightly larger hallway flanked by rooms on both sides with a large window at the end of it, which faced, the woods.
Maximus: "It seems I left my hat back with Crawford, m'lord." A smile, perhaps more genuine than before, appeared and disappeared just as quickly.
Once more he followed behind. He was attracted to the room at the very end, closest to the window.
Xavier: Ah ha, so there is a sense of humor behind that stoic facade. "Then we shall purchase you a new one," he chuckled.
He stood to the side while Fairchild considered his options. "You said you don't sleep. Do you eat?"
Maximus: He had not been reprimanded for his smile. Crawford would have teased him, asked if he was going soft. Perhaps he was. It had been some years since living with an authoritarian tyrant. He needed to push Crawford from his mind.
"Occasionally. Do you, sir?"
Xavier: "As frequently as when I lived. It amuses me to think that God would frown upon us living an even better life than some of his creations."
Maximus: "Well, we certainly don't look as beautiful as we may...seem." He took a gander at his room. The closet was of a decent size. A tiny window above a small full-size bed. The room felt familiar to him. Servants' quarters no doubt. He'd never lived anywhere else.
"This is fine. Thank you."
Xavier: "Neither do angels. And looking at us doesn't burn a human's eyes from their sockets."
Xavier nodded. "Feel free to do with and decorate it as you wish. By all means, knock out that wall and build yourself a suite."
Maximus: "I don't need much, m'lord." He would bring his briefcase and separate his things only after a proper dent had been made in the house.
He turned back to his master and offered the watch and his wrist.
Xavier: "Your life is about extravagance now, Fairchild." Xavier took the watch and placed it around his butler's wrist. "Enjoy it."
Maximus: That was a flowery promise to make. One he would take with a grain of salt. If you say so, he wanted to comment. He refrained, more occupied with his spell. Eyes closed, a soft utterance in Italian, as gentle as a proper whisper should be. Like a mirage, mirror images of himself began to illuminate into existence by his side, as though appearing from darkness itself. Three sets of black eyes returned to their original gray.
Slowly, their arms dropped in unison. His creations turned towards the door and disappeared from sight.
Xavier: Fairchild was observed with the utmost fascination. For all that Xavier wanted to live like lord and surveyor of his own private kingdom, his interest in magic far surpassed his desire for wealth.
A smile crept slowly across his face as the copies appeared. "Ingenious," he murmured to himself. He almost wanted to follow one of them and just watch.
Maximus: Maximus watched his new master, studied his expression of interest perhaps too late. How long, he wondered, had Atlas been staring like that? The entire time his eyes had been closed?
Self-consciously, he straightened his sweater vest, rubbed his thumb over the three scratch marks he had dug into the top of his hand during the spell. His back became rigid once more.
"One is set to task in the library, the other the kitchen. I'm going to survey the house now."
He bowed his head. "M'lord." He needed his notebook from his briefcase.
Xavier: "Very good, Fairchild, thank you. I am off to dispose of Eisley's scrap metal heap and acquire a proper car. If any of you finds any interesting artifacts or valuable items set them aside. I shall return soon."
Maximus: Another bowed head in regard. At least he wouldn't be bored, or suspended with idle hands. He would start with the attic and work his way down, as he had always done when introduced to a new environment.
Xavier: It was a couple of hours before the gentle rumble of a car engine would be heard coming up the road and rounding the drive.
Damien Eisley's practical, ancient car had been replaced by a brand new black Rolls Royce decked out with all the bells and whistles money could buy. Rather a small improvement against the scope of all that was yet to be rectified, but an improvement nonetheless.
Maximus: No version of Maximus Fairchild greeted him in the yard. The original waited at the open door with perfect posture and raised chin. A smudge of dirt streaked his forehead. His black cleaning sleeves were sullied with webs and dust.
Xavier: "You look like you've been to battle already," Xavier said by way of greeting as he got out of the car and went around to the trunk, where he retrieved several brown paper bags.
He grabbed a cloth from one of them and offered it to his butler.
"A small start, in many respects. I bought whiskey, too."
Maximus: "Only with the attic and a den of snakes, m'lord."
The cloth was taken with a soft word of gratitude. His carefully combed hair had managed to loosen, gently falling over his eye while he scrubbed his face.
"Please leave the bags, sir. I'll carry them."
Xavier: "Snakes? Sweet Lucifer in Hell, I've never seen such wealth go so thoroughly to waste."
He shook his head in both dismay and in response to Fairchild.
"By all means, go about your business. I was a docker not that long ago. Hauling is something I'm very adept at."
Maximus: "Yes, sir." He turned, looking back over his shoulder. No, he would face him properly. "I found the blueprints, by the way. They're on top of the desk."
Xavier: "Ah! Excellent. Good work, Fairchild. In addition to cloths and whiskey, I purchased several pairs of gloves, rat poison, soap, bleach, and silver polish. Not an extensive supply by any means but it's a start."
Maximus: "Thank you, m'lord. I'll distribute to the others. Are you - Would you like something to eat, sir? Did you bring anything for me to make?"
Xavier: "Just now I don't think I want to eat anything out of that kitchen. I've made us a reservation at the Plaza Hotel in New York. We'll dine there later this evening."
Maximus: His demonic servant suddenly stilled. Absolute statue.
"M'lord?"
Xavier: "If you're going to work for me, then it's best you know a little about me. Chiefly that while your title may be butler, that is not all you shall be. I've need of an assistant."
Maximus: What Atlas had managed, it seemed, was to completely catch his servant off guard. A moment was required to compose his thoughts. How queer. Was this due to his master's age, or was he even a demon at all? He smelled like one, but certainly his actions were not of his previous owners.
"Are you certain that's not butter upon bacon for me, sir? I've never been to the Plaza."
Xavier: For a moment Xavier wondered if he'd somehow broken his new butler. He hadn't thought that a dinner invitation was capable of shocking someone into silence.
"I did tell you your life was going to be full of extravagance from now on. Come." He nodded toward the sitting room.
"Have a drink with me. In addition to your supplies, I got a crystal decanter and glasses."
Maximus: "...That you did."
The door was shut behind them. Locked for good measure. A duplicate was busy list-making in the sitting room. Books had been rearranged by author. Not nearly as many as the library, but still it seemed worth the trouble while dusting and looking for any stray pesky Russian literature.
Quietly, he unfastened his watch. The duplicate looked up, as though startled, and disappeared into nothingness. The rag his copy had held fell to the floor.
Xavier: "You and your shadows do quick work." He retrieved the decanter, two glasses, and the whiskey. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Fairchild, but I daresay I'm not quite what you expected. Perhaps not quite what you've become...accustomed to, in the demons you've waited on?"
Maximus: "I really should be doing that for you, sir." Indeed, Atlas could be no closer to the truth.
His eyes fell to the floor. He removed his cleaning sleeves and folded them over one of the timeworn leather chairs. Silently, he shook his head.
Xavier: "I suspected as much." He poured them each a glass and offered one to Maximus. Then, resigning himself to the dust, he sat in one of the chairs.
"Sit. We both went to Hell. We both know exactly what demons are capable of because we were both forged into the same by them, we are them. I can imagine what's been asked of you and done to you since you left Hell and began serving them."
Maximus: The chair nearest, with his sleeves, was stiffly taken. Not yet comfortable enough to lean back. Rather, he rested his arms on his knees, forward. If his master were to comment he would reposition, of course. Sit up straight, son. Your spine works just fine!
"Begging your pardon, m'lord, but I don't think we're...so much the same, are we? I was...barely acquainted with Hell."
Xavier: "In the broadest sense we are but at the heart of the matter, perhaps not. I was in Hell thirty years before my father turned me loose. Barely any time had passed on this mortal coil but a whole life had passed for me. And although my eyes are black, I know I'm not quite what you would call....standard issue. You've sensed this, yes? Wondered what sort of demon I am?"
Maximus: His confession caused his servant to slowly straighten. Had he heard correctly?
"I thought...I thought you were a...crossroads..." In fact, he would take a sip of his whiskey. Thirty years? "Such a brief time below."
Xavier: Xavier shook his head, briefly letting his eyes flicker black. Just like Maximus'.
"Not a crossroads demon. Plain old black-eyed one." He smiled. "My father told me I hardly needed more. Said I was halfway demon already when the hangman slipped his noose around my neck. A point of pride for him. Torment for me."
Maximus: "Torment?" A hint of genuine curiosity filtered through his etiquette.
Xavier: "The oldest demons aren't really demons. They're angels. Fallen with our lord Lucifer. Hell's twisted them far more than it's twisted anyone since. One such demon is my creator. My father."
Maximus: "Your father...is an angel?"
Xavier: "To hear him tell it, yes. Sometimes I even believe him. I'm his pet experiment."
Maximus: "What is an angel like?"
Xavier: "Infinitely cruel," Xavier said softly.
Maximus: "Are we not all?" A rhetorical, equally soft question.
Xavier: Maximus was given the barest whisper of a smile. "My soul was already corrupted when I went to Hell. There was no fun in breaking it rest of the way for him. Instead he entertained himself with a question."
Maximus: "A question?" What had Xavier done before he had died?
Xavier: "Yes. What would happen, he wondered, if you turned a man into a demon but left his humanity intact?"
Maximus: That hinted smile returned. He knew, and stared at his glass instead. "You offer to take your property to the Plaza."
Xavier: "Semantics," he said, taking a sip. "You are my employee and my assistant. And if you are to be such, and if this is to be my new permanent home, I'd like...a measure of honesty in it."
Maximus: The demon swallowed. What fresh torment would this cause in the long term? He could only speculate.
"Honesty, m'lord?"
Xavier: "I won't demand your thoughts at every turn or pry into your mind or your life, both are your own affair. But as we're going to be under the same roof, I'd like you to feel comfortable beneath it. You won't be belittled or struck or tormented. I grew up with pretense and tension and an insufferable household dynamic and now I'm actually in a position to have a peaceful home. The irony of that is not lost on me."
Maximus: Ah. He'd managed to keep his humor to himself this time. No smile at the mention of prying into his mind. He could not give himself away.
"A demon wanting a peaceful home? No, the irony is quite glaring, if I do say so."
Another sip from his glass. His finger danced along the rim. "This is my Hell, m'lord. I can't imagine what will happen to me, should it not be...hellish."
Xavier: Xavier gave a humorless chuckle. "What do you call this then?" he asked, making a sweeping gesture around the room. "Snakes are the thin end of the wedge, I guarantee it. But, if your Hell must be hellish in order to remain peaceful, then I suppose we'll find something hellish to do on the regular. Ever broken into the Louvre?"
Maximus: "I don't - I don't think that would be hellish at all," he smiled. That well practiced smile that put most at ease for its significance. A representation of his servitude. To smile to his master as though everything were as it should be. A smile no one questioned. They just knew.
"I should...get back to cleaning."
Xavier: "We'll murder some priests and burn some churches then. That's always good fun. Not terribly vexatious but necessary as far as I'm concerned. And I was serious about the Louvre. This house needs art."
Maximus: Maximus took a breath, quickly expelled in what could have been mistaken for a laugh. Almost, Master Atlas. Almost.
"First, you need clean walls for your art."
Xavier: Another smile. So close. That toy soldier would lose some of his rigidity yet.
"I do at that. Other than the snakes and the blueprints, what report do you give on what you've seen of the house so far?"
Maximus: This was much more his element. His shoulders relaxed by an inch. "The blueprints are not complete. In making this home, I'm not sure, things were purposefully omitted. A compartment in the wall for something no bigger than a hand. A smaller room in the attic. I have not yet finished. So far, I have written the supplies I would need, such as for caulking. A basic grocery list as well."
Xavier: His brow furrowed slightly. "What could he have been concealing? I watched him for several weeks, all he did was read and write and eat oatmeal. Only left the house a handful of times. The only trace of anything supernatural here is the two of us. Unless you've sensed something else in your inspection?"
Maximus: His eyes fell to the ground before returning his gaze. "Are you certain, m'lord? The snakes in the attic are how I found the smaller room. Did he know his time was coming?"
Xavier: "There's always room for surprise, I suppose, but I'm quite certain. None of his affairs were even remotely in order. Do you think he was dabbling in things beyond his understanding?"
Maximus: "I cannot say. Perhaps he valued his privacy. At any rate, I'll keep an eye out for anything else."
Xavier: "Do so. I'd rather not have any unpleasant surprises. Are the cosmetic repairs that are needed all superficial or should I hire a contractor?"
Maximus: "Superficial, m'lord, but I haven't yet made it to the master bedrooms."
Xavier: "That's something at least. Tell me more about the snakes."
Maximus: "Garden snakes, really. I relocated them to the woods. We'll see if they stay there."
Xavier: "They're not exactly a common household pest. Outside of Australia, in any case. They either found a way in or he brought them in for some godforsaken reason. He was an odd man."
Maximus: "Did you choose him just for this house?"
Xavier: Xavier shook his head. "No, it was just a bonus. Or it will be eventually."
Maximus: "Hmm." He gathered his sleeves and bowed. About to leave, he'd almost forgotten his watch. He turned to retrieve it.
"Do you have a room chosen, m'lord? I should clean it for you."
Xavier: "Yes, the master suite in the west wing. The one with the sitting room."
Maximus: "I shall focus on that. You should have a proper place to yourself."
Xavier: "Very well. Feel free to start a bonfire in the garden for Eisley's things. Chiefly his clothing."
Maximus: "Might I ask to use the driveway? The garden is salvageable. If you'll allow me to start planting vegetables as soon as the house is finished."
Xavier: Xavier nodded. “Have at it. While you’re out there check that fountain in the center. I’m not sure if I like it.”
Maximus: "You need a lion."
Xavier: “Or several. We’ll make a trip to Rome eventually and have something made.”
Maximus: "Certainly not snakes." A eye-reaching smile appeared, and remained as he ducked his head, disappearing around the corner after a bow.
Xavier: Xavier laughed. “Certainly not. Dinner’s at seven,” he called after him.
Maximus: Maximus remained in the hallway at the foot of the stairs, returning the watch to his wrist between careful teeth, cutting into his hand with fingernails as he recited his spell under his breath. He intended to make short work of his master's room.
Xavier: Xavier contemplated his living room while he finished his drink. What had Damien Eisley been hiding? Why were the blueprints incomplete? What had prompted the complete and total decline of the estate?
What did Maximus Fairchild look like without that tie? What would it take to get him to relax?
So many questions.
Maximus: Fifteen minutes to seven, and the bedroom was as clean as Maximus could make it with the recently acquired supplies. The old sheets and all of the clothing had been gathered by one of his duplicates and brought downstairs to the foyer. His briefcase had been placed in his room. All unused supplies in their proper place. Not nearly complete, but a dent, just as he had wanted.
His thumb circled the face of the watch absentmindedly. Dinner at the Plaza. He should change.
The watch was removed. He reappeared in his new bedroom a moment later. He should wear his best. The gray suit, perhaps, or the black?
The briefcase was unfastened. Inside, utter blackness. Not shadow, but something else. Something which allowed him to shove his entire arm within in search of his clothes. First, his violin case, which was placed on his pillow. Then the clothes; his best suits were placed on the mattress side-by-side.
Xavier: As Xavier had been living in the very Plaza hotel before deciding to commandeer the estate, and as all his clothes were there, it was there that he went to ready himself for dinner.
He wasn't wooing or looking to impress anyone tonight, but the circumstances still demanded a certain level of sharpness.
So, it would be a black suit and tie for him tonight, along with his very best pocket watch and dress shoes.
Only when he was satisfied with his reflection did he return to his palace of dust.
Maximus: Oh. He really must have been Atlas' first servant. Where he was, he wasn't entirely sure, but the hallway...it must have been a hotel. He quickly disappeared and reappeared inside a vacant room. He'd nearly missed, given he'd never stepped foot in this hotel before. Faulty security system, they would say. Humans rarely looked into supernatural occurrences, even those caught on camera. The gray suit, at least half of it, had been in hand. Keeping what was his on his shoulders, he began to redress. His shoes were still at home, but - oh. There they were again.
In the privacy of his room, he laughed.
Xavier: Xavier made his way upstairs to see the progress his butler had made in his room.
There was a very long way to go but it was already miles ahead of where it had been. He could actually make out the furniture enough to decide that he hated it.
"No honor and no taste," he muttered to himself. "How did you manage to keep this place from crumbling to its foundations?"
Maximus: Maximus emerged from the servants' quarters still combing his hair to its perfect part. No one was around to hear him mumble an Italian song to himself. This moment of privacy, as he had known up to this point, was a treat.
The comb was pocketed. Once more he straightened his vest, and judged himself in the only full-length mirror he'd managed to find in the house, which he had placed in the foyer.
No scars, save for the ones he had created. No marks previous owners had tried and tried again to create. Still, the same almost thirty year-old man in the mirror.
His eyes fell to his hands, to his wool tie. Perfect though it was, he tried to straighten it more.
Xavier: He let himself despair over his poorly decorated room for a moment longer before making his way back downstairs.
And finding an immaculately dressed Maximus Fairchild.
"You clean up well," he greeted.
Maximus: His hands immediately came away from his tie.
"Thank you, m'lord. Is this acceptable for the Plaza?"
Xavier: "More than acceptable. In fact, I daresay you look rather dashing which is more than worthy of the Plaza. Are you ready?"
Maximus: "I am." He paused, biting into his cheek. "You've gone already, haven't you?"
Xavier: "Indeed. I've been living there for several months now, and in Los Angeles before that, at the Roosevelt."
Maximus: "I see. You...took me with you."
Xavier: He tilted his head. "To the Plaza?"
Maximus: "Yes, sir."
Xavier: "How...ah." He chuckled. "When I teleported. Of course, that makes sense. I do apologize. Did you give some unsuspecting human a terrible fright?"
Maximus: "No one was in the hallway. I mostly dressed there." The return of his polite smile.
Xavier: "Fortunate for us then. It seems my spur of the moment trips are going to need some adjusting, lest I yank you all over creation with no warning."
He turned to the mirror and gave himself one last adjustment.
"We'll be teleporting into my suite and going down to the restaurant from there."
Maximus: A nod of understanding. Careful, slow hands reached for his master's collar, making one last adjustment.
Xavier: Xavier stood still, smiling softly as he let Maximus sort him out.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "And now to the Plaza."
Since apparently Maximus automatically traveled wherever Xavier did, there would (unfortunately) be no need to have his butler take his arm. He simply traveled as normal, bringing them to his perfectly appointed, luxurious sitting room.
Maximus: Seeing as he wasn't across the house this time, he finally had the pleasure of viewing a more-than decent looking room.
"Still miles to go before the house is done," he muttered to himself.
Xavier: "As my hag of a stepmother used to say, you're preaching to the choir. Did you see the bedroom furniture? Hideous. Just goes to show that money doesn't buy taste."
Maximus: "Some people are poor in spirit. That is the case, m'lord." One last look, and he headed to the door to hold. If he was certain in his decision to dine with his servant, then he would not question again, despite his wanting to.
Xavier: Xavier nodded his thanks and stepped into the hallway. "And create work for others in the process. Once the dust is cleared, we shall return to New York and see to purchasing new furniture. I'm hoping he has at least a few pieces worthy enough to simply be reupholstered."
He led them over to the elevators, where they were greeted by the attendant.
Maximus: "I think I can salvage the chairs in the sitting room. The kitchen should only need a few things. It depends entirely on what you would like for me to cook."
As they entered the great hall leading to the restaurant, his feet hesitated a half-step, caught off guard by the splendor.
Xavier: "If the appliances are in good working order then a good scrubbing will suffice. I was already planning on purchasing new crystal, china, and silver but after seeing the state of the rest of the house I suspect new pots and pans and cooking implements are needed as well."
Xavier sighed contentedly as they approached the restaurant. "Magnificent, isn't it? Worthy of any king."
Maximus: "You have been eating here every night, m'lord?" He had supervised and attended background to many luxurious meals, but never had he been a part of them. Not as Atlas intended. In his eighty-six years on Earth, he could still manage to be surprised.
But what had caught his attention had not been the crystal, the silk, or the beautiful people. His gaze was caught by the band dressed in white.
Xavier: "Not every night, but most of them. Some days I dine at the Ritz in Paris or at the Dorchester in London. I've also been known to eat at the market in Marrakesh." He looked around. "Anywhere in particular you'd like to sit?"
Maximus: "You certainly get around." A subtle gesture was given to the entertainment. "May we sit near them?"
Xavier: "I try. The world is meant to be traveled. Speaking of Marrakesh, we'll have to make a trip there as well."
Xavier nodded and approached the host, whose eyes practically lit at his appearance. All the way to the table it was 'as you wish, Mr. Atlas' and 'but of course, Mr. Atlas!'.
And once Xavier introduced his dining companion for the evening, Fairchild's name was added to that chorus.
They were seated at a table near the band and immediately plied with champagne.
Maximus: The chorus kept him silent, humored by the overeager behavior. There was serving, and then there was...whatever that was.
"Do I sound like that, m'lord?" he asked, leaning over the table for only his master's ears.
Xavier: Xavier chuckled. "Not half. I have a theory that Mr. Turner there once had dignity, but it's since been depleted and he sees dollar signs everywhere I go."
Maximus: Dignity. Interesting. A word he would not associate with himself on a regular basis. He would take his words as a roundabout compliment.
"Might I ask, what is it you do for money?"
Xavier: "Several things. I steal it and invest it in the stock market. I also steal and sell art. I'm looking into purchasing property. Couldn't hurt to have at least one legitimate source of income."
Maximus: "No, it could not." A single finger slid over the stem of his glass. "Is that what you did...when you were human?"
Xavier: "I was what you would call a jack of all trades. Picked my share of pockets when I was a teenager. I worked at the docks, as a house painter, as a courier. As a kept man, but that wasn't really work."
Maximus: "You've had a busy life, then."
Xavier: "I was a man on a mission."
Maximus: "Were you successful in your mission?"
Xavier: "I suppose that's a matter of perspective."
Maximus: "What is yours?"
Xavier: "I did, and I didn't. I did what I set out to do, and I rather think I did it well, but even I cannot turn back the sun."
Maximus: "...Revenge?" he asked quietly, sitting up straight as the waiter appeared.
Xavier: Xavier nodded, smiling sadly for a brief moment before turning on the charm for the waiter.
"Good evening, gentlemen," the man said, handing each of them a menu and filling their water glasses. "Our special this evening is moule mariniere and a custard cake for dessert. I shall give you a moment to decide."
Maximus: Ah, a dish which caught his attention. His Louisiana heart skipped a beat. Still, something else looked more delicious.
"Thank you, for this evening, m'lord."
Xavier: His smile moved back toward the genuine end of the spectrum. "Of course. We may live in a palace of dust, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't have a grand meal in a luxuriously appointed restaurant. In fact that's all the more reason for it."
Maximus: "For you, not for me. This is a privilege and I shall not forget it."
Xavier: “A privilege I’d like you to become accustomed to.”
Maximus: This was a test. He was an experiment of sorts. Somehow, that's what this was. Somehow this was going to hurt him; this demon would be no different than any other before him. The pain would be that much greater for his kindness. How clever. How cruel.
His smile did not reach his eyes. "What are you going to order, m'lord?"
Xavier: Though Xavier did not know the lay of Maximus' thoughts, he wouldn't have blamed him for them. What trust could there be so soon after meeting someone? Even humans did not develop trust so quickly, much less demons.
"It's been quite a long time since I've had moule mariniere. And this restaurant prepares seafood extremely well. What's catching your fancy?"
Maximus: Moules marinière did seem appealing, but, "I cannot decide between the stuffed tomatoes or the crawfish étouffée with haricot vert almondine." His lifetime in Louisiana seeping through effortlessly.
Xavier: "I refer you to my comment about the seafood and point you toward the crawfish. During one of his sycophantic rants, Mr. Turner informed me that all their seafood is delivered fresh every morning."
Maximus: "Then, I suppose, étouffée it is." Finally, he took a sip of champagne, and a lengthy look at his surroundings. Most were prim and proper. A few beautiful women laughing with abandon, cigarettes between their fingers. Their men with thick glasses partially filled with amber whiskey. He turned back to the band, his expression softening.
Xavier: Maximus' observations didn't go unnoticed by Xavier, nor did the change in his expression when his gaze landed on the band. For a brief moment he wondered if one of the musicians in particular had caught his butler's eye but the reappearance of the waiter interrupted that particular train of thought.
"Have you decided, gentlemen?"
"Yes. I'll have the special and Mr. Fairchild will have the crawfish."
"Excellent choices." The waiter gave a single nod and collected the menus.
Maximus: Maximus' head whipped back sharply enough to catch the attention of the waiter.
"No - No, it's nothing. Thank you."
Xavier: "Of course, sir." The waiter inclined his head toward Maximus and disappeared.
Maximus: "The allergy to salt, I suppose, will depend on the food," he said once they were alone again.
Xavier: “Wouldn’t you know, I’ve rarely suffered ill effect from the salt in food. No doubt there’s an explanation for it but my guess is that there isn’t enough to actually cause harm.”
Maximus: "Yet a circle will render me chained."
Xavier: “As it does to us all. There seems to be something that traps everything. Even death.”
Maximus: "Death? Really?" With such pale skin, the slightest of pink was indeed a blush. "I feel so ignorant. Forgive me."
Xavier: “I’ve nothing to forgive you for. I only learned myself recently. We’re all of us kept in the dark, literally and metaphorically. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and I’ve made it a point to accumulate a lot of knowledge. And not just the sort demons are meant to have.”
Maximus: "And your father, he is aiding you in your pursuit of knowledge?" His eyes fell to the table submissively. "You had said, when I arrived, that you would thank him."
Xavier: “In a limited capacity. Giving me the instructions to summon you being within those parameters. But all the rest I’ve discovered on my own. You’d be shocked how many magical artifacts are strewn about where anyone can find them.”
Maximus: "Not too surprised, m'lord. My master before, he...he was a collector. Would find things in all sorts of places. Magic...it's quite easy to create, with enough belief. The smallest things. The simplest spells."
Xavier: "It is at that. If I were concerned for the fate of the human race that would rather alarm me, but as such, I simply intend to avail myself of as much of it as possible. Magic is a tool to be used, and who better than us. We've more understanding than most."
Maximus: "Most of the human race cannot believe their own religions. It's safe to say there won't be a swell of witches anytime soon."
Xavier: "More's the pity. I've met some very entertaining witches."
His charming smile returned as the waiter appeared with bread, butter, and a house salad for each of them.
Maximus: The waiter was ignored, his eyes back to his hands.
Xavier: "Your entrees will be served in a few minutes. Might I get you anything else while you wait?"
"Nothing for me. Fairchild?"
Maximus: A voice he would cater to. His chin raised. "No, thank you."
Xavier: The waiter inclined his head. "Very well." And off he went again.
Maximus: Watching the waiter leave, his gaze was caught by two elderly men and a young woman nearby. Distrustful, judgmental gazes, pointed specifically to him. He knew that look. He didn't have to guess.
Another sip of champagne.
"What are your favorite foods, m'lord? I should know what to make you in the future."
Xavier: Xavier didn’t answer right away. He’d noticed the looks, and he’d noticed Fairchild noticing them. What a perfect opportunity to put the dainty people back in their place.
And what better way to do that than to meet their gaze and let his eyes flicker black, winking for good measure.
Maximus: A cross was made over the young woman's chest. The family got to their feet in an instant, their desserts forgotten. Maximus, not having noticed what his master had done, stared in confusion.
"Dago," one spat as they passed. Afraid, but not enough to keep his tongue to himself.
Xavier: Xavier met the hiss with a grin, toasting the humans with his champagne.
"It seems that someone's parents never taught them not to stare at strangers," he commented.
Maximus: Had he just been defended by this demon? His chest rose and fell in a silent sigh.
"Not the first time. Imagine the look of shock on some when I speak French. As though it shouldn't be coming out of my mouth."
Xavier: "Not my first time either. The airs on people like them." He shook his head. "The vast majority of them have what they have by accident of birth and they carry on as if it were divine reward."
Maximus: "To many, they truly believe it. Royalty have been told it's their divine right since birth."
Xavier: "And their whole reality would fall apart if they accepted that it's blind dumb luck. What they consider strength and superiority is simply fragility and delusion beyond all reason."
Maximus: "There will always be masters and servants, m'lord. I believe there to be some shred of truth."
Xavier: "So too will there always be thieves," he said, smiling in the direction the family had gone.
Maximus: A polite smile followed, and his eyes returned to the handsome blond trumpet player on the small stage.
Xavier: Xavier buttered himself a roll, wondering if the dainty people were guests at the hotel and what line of work the men had once been in. There could very well be a chance for some vintage wines, definitely some priceless antiques. He'd poke around for them after dinner.
Maximus: Maximus was in a whole other world, completely enamored with the band. He'd turned in his chair to face them, as he felt respectful. A smile brightened his eyes. One of those moments of peace for him to savor.
Xavier: As was usual for him, Xavier found himself sitting back and observing. His butler was already proving to be a fascinating subject.
This was the most relaxed he’d seen him so far and the reason for it was perfectly obvious. It wasn’t just one musician that had taken his fancy as he’d thought earlier, but rather all of them. More precisely, it seemed, the music itself.
It was giving him more than a few ideas for future outings, and perhaps for some other things as well.
Maximus: He wasn't paying enough attention to his new master. He knew he should, but his weakness was just feet away. He was giving himself away and he knew it. This would be used against him again, and it would be entirely his fault for not being careful.
Slowly, he turned his chair back aground, straightened his vest, and cleared his throat.
"Apologies, m'lord. I didn't mean to be so thoughtless."
Xavier: “No need,” he said, smiling softly. “They’re very good aren’t they? Draw a crowd even when it isn’t a meal being served.”
Maximus: "Yes, they are." He could feel his anxiety like a wave of heat over his entire body, pooling into his stomach, forcing him to exhale.
Xavier: “You can listen, you know. Without seeking forgiveness or asking permission.”
Maximus: As much as he would like to believe, he could not will his muscles to relax. His shoulders were tight to the point of ache. Whatever was going to happen would happen regardless of what he said or did at this point. So, with a tiny nod, he turned back to the music.
Xavier: There was little be done for the establishment of trust except patience and time. Xavier could hardly explain why it mattered that Maximus Fairchild be comfortable, he simply accepted that it did.
He smiled and topped off both their glasses, settling in to listen until their food arrived.
Maximus: There was something to be said for a meal not prepared by ones own hands. Somehow the fact made his plate all the more delectable. His table manners far outshined half of the people in the Plaza. He hadn't looked up to notice.
Atlas was thanked once more for the meal, and when asked for dessert by the waiter, he declined. He wouldn't think to impose. He would, however, finally finish his flute of champagne.
Xavier: Maximus might not have noticed but Xavier did, and it inspired no small bit of pride. Perhaps even a sense of superiority on Maximus' behalf.
He turned down dessert as well, favoring more of the champagne in its stead. "I'm sure they make a perfectly acceptable custard cake but I've eaten the lion's share of it in my life and I'd be perfectly happy never seeing it again. It's all my father ever wanted for pudding, it was exhausting."
Maximus: "Really popular in England? I know how to make a fruitcake, should you crave it."
His napkin was folded and returned to his thigh. "If it's not praline or brownies, I don't care much, though."
Xavier: "Exceedingly. Feels like it's served with everything." But there was no hiding or denying the little glint in his eyes when Maximus mentioned fruit cake.
"I've never said no to either of those things. Americans do love their brownies and they make them so very well."
Maximus: "I remember when they became popular. Chicago, I think it was, invented them. It was all my...former master wanted for a year."
Xavier: "I can understand that sentiment. Although I'm sure you're as fed up with making them as I have been with custard. I've taken to visiting patisseries on a regular basis."
Maximus: "My French only goes so far as Louisiana staples, m'lord."
Xavier: "Mine isn't much better, but I've found that pointing does the job just fine." Was that a joke? Perhaps.
Maximus: "Would you...like to learn French?"
Xavier: "It's not a bad idea. I certainly go to Paris often enough."
Maximus: "Je peux t'apprendre," he smiled formally.
Xavier: "Ah! I understood that."
Maximus: His smile crept by a centimeter.
Xavier: "I probably understand more than I can speak."
Maximus: "Well, we can change that." Born to an Italian mother, yet his French was far superior. Nature of Baton Rouge. His father had not cared any which way so long as his English was not impaired.
Xavier: "If I start speaking well enough, all the shopkeepers in Paris will stop turning their noses up at me."
Maximus: "Exactly. Knowledge tends to make people respect, or absolutely despise you."
Xavier: “Hence why I gather it. I’m a dragon and it is my hoard.”
Maximus: The napkin was placed on the table.
"Well, then your lair must be perfect."
Xavier: “It must and it shall be. Is there anything you’d like to do while we’re here?”
Maximus: "You ask much of me," he smiled.
Xavier: "It's but the tip of a very elegant iceberg."
Maximus: One thumb overlapped the other. "There is nothing pressing I need."
Xavier: "Is there anything you want?"
Maximus: "Is that what you want from your servant, m'lord?"
Xavier: "I would like my right hand to indulge himself in one selfish thing, yes. I'd tell you to shoot for the moon but we'll work up to that."
Maximus: "Is this something you're going to take from me?" Less of a question, more of a statement to himself, but still, the correct inflection was added.
Xavier: “Why would I take anything from you when the whole world is at my thieving fingertips?” It was said lightly and with that care-free charming smile, but there was sincerity in his eyes.
Maximus: "That's just it. You can take...anything," he managed just above a whisper. He slowly breathed. "What I would like in this instant, is to get back to work."
Xavier: “Yes. I can. But I’ve yet to take back a gift once it’s been given, Fairchild. I know you’ve no reason to trust that but I hope in time you will.”
He flagged down the waiter and asked for the check.
Maximus: I have hopes too, he thought. He'd already made blunders this evening. He wouldn't dare make another by exposing another desire.
Once paid, Maximus got to his feet and tucked his chair away. He assumed they would be going back to his master's room. He waited to fall into a half-step behind.
Xavier: They would be indeed, but not before taking a small detour.
He waited until they were out of earshot of anyone before asking, "Did you catch the scent of those humans I sent scurrying out of the restaurant?"
Maximus: "Peppermint and pipe tobacco, m'lord. A hint of whiskey." He had indeed. "What are you going to do?"
Xavier: "Get petty revenge." He seemed to scent the air, seemed to listen for something. "Is it stronger toward the foyer or toward the elevators?"
Maximus: A test? He closed his eyes, as though that somehow impacted his olfactory. "The elevators."
Xavier: "Excellent, that means they're guests. Come."
Toward the stairwell, not the elevators.
Maximus: Here he would not follow behind, but briskly walk ahead in order to open the door, keeping a sharp eye for witnesses.
Xavier: Xavier was grinning from ear to ear. He'd been a solo act most of his life and rather enjoyed it, but there was something to be said about having a lookout.
He'd stop on every single floor, cracking open each stairwell door just long enough to check for the humans' scent until he found the floor he was looking for.
Maximus: There was something pleasant in the hunt. He caught himself smiling every other floor as he watched his master poke his head through the stairwell door.
"What are your intentions?" he whispered.
Xavier: "I merely wish to inspect their possessions and home and relieve them of the burden of anything that catches my fancy."
Maximus: "How generous," he smirked. "It's this room." To the left, room 604. "I can hear them." The soft murmurings of the gentlemen.
Xavier: "Ah, good!" Xavier whispered. There was no need to press his ear to the door, he could hear them just fine.
"Now then, have you much practice in concealing yourself?"
Maximus: "It's not been something allowed me. No one wants a servant that can hide from them."
Xavier: "What about illusions? Olfactory ones, in this case."
Maximus: His hands wound behind his back. "That I can, yes."
Xavier: "Excellent." He led them to the nearest corner. It would serve as a hiding place for the moment.
"A gas leak. Strong enough to get them to come out, just for a few moments. That's all I need."
Maximus: A reversal of sulfurous concealment during travel, something in which he was already keen in skill. A simple exaggeration his own natural unholy scent.
Contemplating, he peeked around the corner, back to the room. They would flee in the opposite direction, towards the elevators. Eyes slowly deepened to black.
"Tell me when, sir."
Xavier: Xavier cocked his head, listening for anything that had the potential to interrupt them.
"Wait for the elevator to pass....aaaand......now."
Maximus: The stench was every sense of the word revolting. A true expression of their demonic being. Strong enough to alert not just their targeted family, but the younger neighbor. Their game may have inadvertently created a union, as the young woman and businessman locked eyes. Another man with dark hair, and much darker skin than his own. He smiled, tickled by the look of disdain on her father's face. She must have had enough of their prejudice. Something to rile them.
Xavier: Another grin. "Well done, Fairchild. Come, we've only moments before they seek aid."
And with that, Xavier transported them into the family's room.
"I need anything that lists their home address," he whispered, glancing around the suite for the young lady's handbag.
Maximus: Her handbag was around her wrist, but the book she had been reading had been left behind. He checked the back and front.
"Regina Taylor," he read. "From her mother, Rebecca."
Xavier: "A name, good. Excellent start. Do you see any documents pertaining to the rental of the room? They'll have a billing address on them."
Maximus: Another glance around. Not in this room. The master bedroom, no doubt. Without word he disappeared into the next room. "A Reginald Taylor. Must be her father." He emerged from the doorway with a piece of paper.
Xavier: "Ah ha, you've struck gold! Remind me to get a whiskey decanter for your bedroom." He looked over the paper and almost immediately landed on an address.
"Upstate New York. How nice, a home in the country. Ready to go?"
Maximus: "Are you trying to turn me into a lush, m'lord?" His smile could have been taken in either direction; he had looked away. One last once over of the room.
"You've been to upstate New York?"
Xavier: "Crystal decanters are a mark of civility, Fairchild. Remember that. And yes, I have. I purchased several wines from a man who lives not far from the address listed here. If we're very lucky, they'll have a small household staff and we won't have to skulk about so much."
Maximus: His vest was straightened. This was turning into quite the evening. His chin raised, looking his master in the eyes, ready for their next task.
Xavier: Xavier smiled and nodded, tucking the paper into his inside pocket and taking them to the other side of the state, leaving the humans and the hotel staff to sort out the imaginary gas leak.
The house--or mansion more like--was everything manicured and stately. A little without character in Xavier's opinion but then he was biased. He favored his own house, dust palace or no.
"What do you reckon, old money or nouveau riche?"
Maximus: "Oh, very old money, m'lord. No nouveau riche would name their daughter after them. It's not the same plateau of pride."
Xavier: Another nod. "Fair point. Not nearly enough garish adornments to be nouveau, and more's our good fortune. Old money means several generations' worth of heirlooms and excellent taste in wine."
Maximus: "Several trips then? Shall we begin with the wine? It's most important to you," he smirked. What was that? Humor in his eyes?
Xavier: "You're a quick study," he chuckled. "Good man."
Many of the windows were dark but there were still some that were illuminated. The staff would probably be readying to retire from the evening.
"Much as I'd like to raid Mr. Taylor's wine cellar, we best start from the top down. Give the household time to tuck away for the night so we may roam freely."
Maximus: True enough. He would begin with the attic. Usually some interesting pieces were stowed away until holiday. A home as old as this one was bound to have something of value hidden underneath a white sheet.
His demon disappeared, reappearing on a creaky board next to the masonry of an extremely old chimney. Transporting to areas he'd never been before was still very much a task, one which caused his nose to bleed.
Xavier: Xavier followed not long after, but rather than go to the attic, he chose one of the darkened rooms.
And ah, what fortune indeed. He'd landed in Miss Taylor's bedroom and could already see the outline of a jewelry box on her vanity.
Its contents would be taken out and examined, with the best pieces being put aside to be duplicated. Or rather falsified, as was his custom.
He made a copy of everything he stole and left the counterfeit in its place. A sensible way to pilfer without drawing alarm or suspicion, to steal without leaving a single trace of the theft in his wake. In time, he'd teach Maximus to do the same.
Maximus: This was one of those situations in which he had no way to communicate with his master unless face-to-face. Two feminine statues were placed side-by-side. He'd have to search for him in a moment. For now, another moment to himself. He admired the craftsmanship in front of him; of the beautiful and slender fingers in particular. So very much did he love hands.
A quick glance over his shoulder. He cupped the woman's hand, felt the minute ridges of stone. How had they managed to haul this up here? These would look lovely in the foyer, or out in the garden once it was settled and flourishing.
Xavier: Copies in place and originals secreted in an obliging case he'd found, Xavier moved on to his next target: the master suite.
Here he found another treasure trove of jewels, an antique clock, and several vases that would look splendid in his library when it was returned to glory. There was even a very nice first edition Dickens on the bedside table.
Maximus: The statues were recovered, carefully, as though anything harsh would wake the ladies from their statuesque slumber. He then disappeared down the stairs, into the pantry. What glorious silver. He needed to find his master. Perhaps these would not be to his liking.
Quietly, he began to walk about the house. Upstairs, the bedrooms most likely. He headed for the stairs.
Xavier: Xavier poked his head out of the bedroom as he heard the approaching footsteps, smiling in greeting and waving Maximus over.
"Mr. Taylor has excellent taste in watches," he whispered when his butler was close enough. "And his wife seems to have an exceeding fondness for diamonds the size of eggs."
Maximus: "There is a variety of silver for you to choose from. I found statues in the attic I think will complement your garden. How shall we move these?" His whisper being just as soft, no one was the wiser.
Xavier: "I think for now we shall place it all in the attic and take it all at once when we take our leave. Spare us the need for multiple trips." He picked up the heavy case with the same ease he picked up a teacup and took them up to the attic.
Maximus: His servant was not far behind. A crystal figurine and candlesticks in his grasp.
"The silver is very ornate. I'm not sure if that's the style you wish, but for dinner parties it would suit."
Xavier: "Excellent. I've always been rather fond of the ornate." He offered to take the figurine and candlesticks from Maximus.
"Now then. I've a simple philosophy when it comes to stealing and it is this; I do not leave a trace. I operate as if a ghost. And a trickster. Any and everything I steal, I make a copy of, and leave the copy in place of what I've taken."
Maximus: "That must tax you, certainly." If that be the case, he nodded to the candlesticks. "Did you mimic those, sir?"
Xavier: "It certainly would if I relied on our demonic powers alone." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a medallion embedded with several chunks of iron pyrite. Fool's Gold.
"I draw power from the spell etched into this. It can copy any inanimate object perfectly."
Maximus: "The world suddenly seems less unique. How many things have I admired that are nothing but replicas?"
Xavier: "Replicas have always existed to be sure, but the copies made from this medallion have a shelf life. Given enough time, they'll disintegrate into dust made of Fool's Gold. By that point, the owner of the object suspects only that he was taken for a ride by whomever sold them the object in the first place."
Maximus: His imagination drifted towards a beautiful, kind, loving man in his arms crumbling to golden pieces.
He swallowed that preposterous thought and crossed the attic to the statues, unveiling them just as carefully as he had draped them.
"What do you think of these?"
Xavier: Xavier blinked. "Oh my."
He stepped closer, examining the face of one of the statues with careful, gentle fingers. "Exquisite artistry," he murmured. "Far too exquisite to be up here gathering dust. We'll give them a better home."
Maximus: Oh. Doing his best to keep his face towards the statues, he watched those fingers.
"That we will, sir."
Xavier: "Excellent find, Fairchild. You've a good eye. I think these ladies would look rather lovely in a rose garden. Proper English tea roses."
Maximus: "I think yellow dahlias would go nicely with the roses."
Xavier: Xavier felt a little catch in his chest that he wasn't entirely able to hide. "Yes," he whispered. "They would. To the pantry then?"
Maximus: Maximus turned to face him, brow slightly knitted. "Sir?"
Xavier: There was that charming smile once more, though this time it was far less convincing. "Let us help ourselves to Mr. Taylor's silver, and if it suits my tastes, his china as well."
And down to the pantry they went.
Maximus: He knew better than to press with a brand new master, yet still he opened his mouth, ready to ask again what he had done, if only to rectify, but once more the scenery changed around him.
His jaw clamped shut. "This way," he whispered, leading him towards the impressive yet limited array of polished silver.
Xavier: Impressive indeed. "Pleasing and immaculately clean," he said, nodding his approval. "We shall take it all. Is the china kept in here as well?"
Maximus: "In a glass case across the kitchen. Gold lining. Simplistic but respectable."
Xavier: It too was inspected, and though it did not entirely appeal, it would do until he found something that suited him better.
Once the dishes were gathered, and had been taken to the attic to wait with the other treasures he'd found, he took Maximus around the rest of the house in search of anything else that caught their eye. Artwork, furniture, rugs. All was fair game.
Maximus: Walking through the house one last time, rug underneath his arm, he wondered...had all of this been just because of a prejudice glare? Had the men paid him no mind, where would they be in this moment?
No, don't be silly, Maximus. It was just an excuse. The house was in disarray. Of course this served a single purpose.
"Ready when you are, m'lord."
Xavier: If only Maximus knew. When Xavier had said he was doing this for petty revenge, he'd sincerely meant it. They wouldn't be here now had it not been for Mr. Taylor and his family's rudeness.
The fact that this little crime spree was letting them get things for the house was simply an added bonus.
"I do believe I am." All the duplicates had been made and left in the proper place. The only thing left to do was ensure that they hadn't forgotten anything and satisfied that they hadn't, Xavier took them and their hoard home.
Maximus: His first concern upon landing, aside from counting every item in the hopes to avoid a second trip, was to see to his master. Had he overtaxed himself? This was an enormous haul for just one demon.
"Please, rest in the library. I'll tend to these things myself. Would you like a glass of wine, m'lord?"
Xavier: It had been a splendidly productive evening but Xavier had to concede that it had left him more than a little winded. He liked to think he was very adept at teleportation, and he was compared to most, but even so, multiple consecutive trips took their toll. The extra cargo on that last one certainly hadn't helped.
"It would be much appreciated," he said, catching his breath.
Maximus: This time, Xavier was followed as an equal, if only to watch his balance. "I shall start a fire for you as well."
Quietly, he waited by the best leather chair, in place until his master had adjusted. Then he turned, gracefully kneeling at his feet. He began to untie the demon's shoes, his dark hair falling forward over his right eye.
Xavier: Xavier practically melted into the chair, sighing contentedly. That tell-tale ache of overexertion was settling somewhere in his limbs and torso, as nebulous as it was bothersome.
"You did good work today," he said, obligingly lifting each foot in turn. "On the house and on our little detour."
Maximus: His attention remained purposefully on his oxfords. "Thank you, m'lord. And thank you, again, for a lovely dinner."
Xavier: "You're very welcome, Fairchild. We shall have another when we pack and move my things."
Maximus: His shoes were placed to the side, and with mastered skill, he turned towards the fireplace without having to look his master in the eyes. This, long ago, had become a comfortable ritual. One many demons seemed to favor, especially those older than himself.
In no time at all, the fireplace crackled with life. The gate was shut and the small latch closed. Being iron, a small burn pinkened the pads of his fingers, but he made no mention.
"I'll have your wine in just a moment."
Xavier: Xavier couldn't say if he particularly favorited it or not, but it was a gesture he appreciated.
He gave a content sigh as the warmth of the fire reached him, letting his eyes fall closed. "Thank you, Fairchild," he said softly. "Don't feel compelled to rush."
Maximus: His soft voice lured Maximus' attention. Carefully studying the demon with whom all of his loyalties now lay.
Without word, he disappeared for wine, and a properly cleaned glass. One of the newly acquired silver trays was inspected and brought forth after fashioning a proper pair of gloves. He was going to look the part, at least for a moment, before returning to his task.
Xavier: Although he didn't open his eyes to confirm, Xavier could feel Maximus watching him and wondered what his butler thought of him. Was he confused? Glad? Apprehensive? Resigned?
Only time would tell.
Maximus: Just as quietly, the tray was brought forth, having walked the span of the house. His glass was placed on the table, and the tray with the bottle of merlot on the desk.
"Getting back to work, m'lord," he whispered. "If you'll excuse me."
Xavier: He finally opened his eyes and smiled. "Thank you, Fairchild. Don't feel like you have to work from dusk until dawn. Take a rest, even if you don't sleep."
Maximus: Better memory than his first master. There was that consideration again.
"I'm curious of there are any other secret rooms or cubbyholes."
Xavier: "Keep a lookout for them if you can. I want to know definitively if Damien Eisley was hiding something."
Maximus: "Perhaps it's not as supernatural as we're thinking. Something as scandalous as an illegitimate child, or stowed away lover."
Xavier: "To be completely honest, the potential of that concerns me more than any magical or occult dealings he might have had. There can be no loose ends."
Maximus: "I'll keep an ear out for scurrying," he smirked. His head bowed, and he turned away once more. "Please call to me when you're ready for bed. I shall help you undress."
Xavier: "Of rats and secret family members," he said with a grin.
He was a bit surprised that Maximus would offer to help him undress but he wasn't about to refuse. "I will, thank you."
Maximus: His astonishment would have surprised his servant, considering every request given by every master before him. Undressing his master was an expectation.
No other hidey-holes that he could find. No secret hallways or dungeon. A bit boring; he had thought they had stumbled upon something mysterious from a novel. After hours of continuous cleaning, he finally looked over his shoulder.
Alone?
Xavier: Xavier melted into the chair once more, letting both the wine and the heat sink into his bones. Finishing the whole bottle wouldn't get him the least bit tipsy, so he had no reservations about finishing it off while he recovered from all the travel.
Maximus: He was so tempted to sneak into his room, to touch his violin, the bow stings, to perhaps play a soft song with the door closed. An illusion of true privacy. It was too soon. This was only night one, and he knew it was bad luck to relax so quickly after transition.
The statues were placed in the attic. The china was re-cleaned and put away properly, as with the silver. He would not attempt to finish cleaning the library or sitting room with his master so near.
Xavier: Wine bottle empty, Xavier stood and stretched. It was finally time to call this hectic, illuminating day to a close.
"Fairchild," he called as he went to his bedroom, barely louder than a conversational volume. They were demons; his butler could hear him.
Maximus: The sound of his name caused an instantaneous reaction. His demon disappeared and reappeared upstairs, awaiting patiently in his bedroom, hands behind his back.
Xavier: Maximus was given a smile in greeting. "Make more progress?"
Maximus: "The kitchen is more respectable."
Xavier: "Excellent." He shrugged off his suit jacket. "Tomorrow morning I'll give you funds and the keys to the Rolls so you can go into town for the supplies you still need."
Maximus: The jacket was gathered from his wrists before it could fall.
"That's very generous, m'lord. Thank you."
The jacket was placed over the nearest chair. He turned, ready to assist with his buttoned shirt.
Xavier: "I'll set up an account for you to draw from tomorrow as well, for household expenses."
Xavier untucked his shirt and started on the buttons.
Maximus: Despite his calm demeanor, he found himself on edge. This was where the change usually happened in his owners. This moment of vulnerability exposed why they were their namesake.
Slowly, he made his way around, gently tugging away the shirt from his shoulders.
Xavier: If Maximus was on edge, Xavier was blithely unaware. His mind was lost in finances.
“I’ll set up a separate account for your wages as well. Or I can give them to you every week, whichever you prefer.” Off came the shirt, and the belt a few moments later.
Maximus: "I've always felt better carrying something tangible. That's probably my age."
Xavier: “I shall give them to you every week then.”
Xavier turned to face his butler and smiled. “That will be all, Fairchild, thank you. You may retire for the night. And again, splendid work.”
Maximus: There he stood, looking somewhat dumbfounded for a moment, before he turned to hang Xavier's clothes.
"...Thank you...m'lord."
Xavier: Oblivious, Xavier attributed Maximus' confusion to the fact that he'd elected to deal with his trousers himself. It would've been simple enough to have his butler help with them along with everything else but no, they weren't there yet. This was a delicate dance, and that move was still too advanced.
Not that he didn't hope the day would come when he didn't undress himself below the waist. He did; it was simply too soon. But Xavier Atlas was a patient man.
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10 mindfulness exercises very popular and easy to do
Mindfulness Exercise #1 – Breathe
Start by sitting down and relaxing. You could be at your desk, on your bed, or even on the toilet – it doesn’t matter. Take a couple of deep breaths in and out, trying to relax. Then stop controlling the breath, and feel the sensation of the breath in the body. Feel the abdomen rising and falling as you breathe, then the current of your breath in the throat. Also feel the cool air in your nose as you breathe in and the warm air as you breathe out. If the mind wanders, notice and bring it gently back to focus on your breath. Don’t try too hard, but breathe with effortless concentration. Practice for a few minutes.
Summary: focus on the feeling of the breath in the body
Mindfulness Exercise #2 - Listen
You can practice this anywhere, but somewhere you might hear a range of noises is best, like a park or street. If there are plenty of noises within your home, this could also work. Take a deep breath and listen carefully to your surroundings. Close your eyes and make a real effort to listen. Can you hear birds singing, the wind howling, the floors creaking, or people talking?
Try to leave behind the other senses and focus solely on the world of sound. If your mind wanders, as always, bring it back to the sounds you can hear around you. Try not to judge, shut off the analytical brain, and be present with whatever you can hear.
Summary: Close your eyes and listen closely to your surroundings
Mindfulness Exercise #3 - Think
Take a seat, allow the body to be still, and take a couple of deep breaths. Tune into your mental state. Notice if the mind is busy, or if it’s calm. Then begin to notice the specific thoughts. Don’t try and shut them out; just let them be there. Watch as they float through your head. Look at them with the joyful curiosity of a child. Where do these thoughts come from and where do they go? What is the content? Imagine that your thoughts are clouds passing by. Watch them come and go without getting lost in the mind and without judgment. If you practice this often, you’ll create space between you and your thoughts. Eventually, you will realize that you are not your mind. The mind is an instrument, a tool, and you have more control over it than you might think. Let thoughts come and go, and watch with relaxed attention.
Summary: Watch your mental processes with calm awareness
Mindfulness Exercise #4 – Feel
This is similar to the previous exercise, but instead of focusing on thoughts, we focus on our feelings. Sit down, take a couple of deep breaths, and relax. Tune into your emotional state. How do you feel? Are you calm, happy, sad, or stressed? Notice how you feel without judgment, whether the emotions are pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. Sometimes we don’t feel very much at all, and that’s fine too.
See if you can feel the emotion in your body. Is it in the stomach, the heart, or maybe the head?. Be honest with yourself about how you feel. Often, we pretend we are ok when we are actually suffering inside. Once again, don’t let the mind run away. Focus on your emotional state and bring the mind back when it wanders. You can also practice this when you are experiencing difficult emotions, like anger or anxiety. It will help calm the storm.
Summary: Feel your emotions as they are without judgment or criticism.
Mindfulness Exercise #5 - Eat
Practice this exercise whilst eating. Do it alone if you can or if you are with someone else, invite them to do the exercise as well; otherwise they might wonder what you are up to. Turn off your phone and the television, and try to be completely present. Take plenty of time to prepare your meal with peace and joy. Before you eat, take a moment to be grateful for the meal. Think of the energy and effort that went into its production and transport. Thank the plants and animals that made your meal possible. Then begin eating, but eat slowly, chewing each mouthful carefully and feeling the sensations as you swallow. Employ all of the senses: sight, smell, taste, feel, even listen to the sounds you make. As always, stay present and try not to get lost in your thoughts. If you do, that’s fine, but return your focus to the sensations of eating whenever you notice. You could also do this exercise while drinking a cup of tea.
Summary: Eat a meal with deep awareness and use all of your senses
Mindfulness Exercise #6 - Live
Practice this exercise when you are doing the mundane tasks of daily life: perhaps when you are tidying the house, or doing the shopping. You could also do it at work – especially if your job is more physical – but not while sitting at your desk or computer. As you do your task, become completely present. Try to be aware of the movements of your body: feel the movement of your legs, your arms, and your muscles. Do this activity with a smile and with joy. Usually, we rush through tasks so we can get on to the next: try to feel the joy of being, even in every day tasks. If you are serving you family or a client, feel the joy of service. Your mind will wander of course, but try to bring it back to the body whenever you can. Avoid getting lost for long periods in the mind.
Summary: Bring awareness and joy into every day activities that are usually monotonous
Mindfulness Exercise #7 - Thank
mindfulness exercises thanking
Take a moment to sit and look at all the wonderful things around you. Mentally say “thank you” for each of them. You have so much to be grateful for: food and running water in your home, a fridge, and a toilet; a computer, a smart phone, and a television; you have family, friends, and enough money to get everything you need. Look at your blessings and feel the joy that is within you. We take things for granted once they become commonplace. But do you see how blessed you are? How fortunate you are to be born in such a time.
If you practice this every day, you will be surprised how much your life changes. Why? Because when you practice gratitude, the brain’s mirror neurons begin to mimic this behavior. So you begin to find joy in the simplest of things.
Summary: Express gratitude for all of the blessings you have around you and in your life.
Mindfulness Exercise #8 - Stop
Set an alarm clock for every hour or two hours. When the alarm goes off, drop whatever you are doing and take a couple minutes to come back to the present moment. You can choose however you want to bring your attention back. I recommend that you focus on your breath, as it is the easiest way to come back to the present. But you may want to focus on the body, on thoughts, emotions, or an external object. Do whatever helps you come back to the present. Practicing this regularly also helps improve your meditation. Meditation requires deep concentration and awareness, so when we practice throughout the day, we find our meditation becomes deeper.
Summary: Regularly stop what you are doing and take a few moments of stillness.
Mindfulness Exercise #9 - Wake
Start the day with a mindful morning routine.
Begin by smiling and taking a couple of deep breaths. Remain in an inward, joyful state as you brush your teeth, get dressed, and have your breakfast. Morning is the best time to do this because the mind is most still right after waking up. Even if it is only for the first 10 minutes of the day, that is great, but do longer if you prefer. Listen to sounds around you, feel your body moving, and pay attention to your thoughts. Practice a calm, witnessing, non-judgmental presence as you go about your morning.
Summary: Wake up to a mindful morning routine to set you up for the day.
Mindfulness Exercise #10 - Wait
Next time you are in a situation where you have to wait, see it as an opportunity, rather than a burden. We often have to wait in line or in traffic, and these are excellent opportunities to practice mindfulness. Usually we get restless, impatient, or even anxious while waiting, but next time, bring your attention to the present moment via the breath or the body. Smile, enjoy watching your surroundings, and take it all in. Listen carefully and enjoy the beauty of the present moment. Practice patience in this way because, as you have heard a million times, “patience is a virtue.” Patience has the power to completely transform your inner world. If you can wait with joy when you feel stressed or rushed, that is true power over your emotions. So enjoy these moments. Avoid feeling that everything is so important that you have to rush angrily though life. It doesn’t last long – you might as well enjoy the ride.
Summary: Use waiting as an opportunity to practice mindfulness and bring yourself into the present moment.
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The Psychology Of Color
Color and visual cues can have a dramatic impact on conversion rates. On Quick Sprout, for instance, the Hellobar — a red bar on the top of the page accounts for 11% of all new leads.
The same is true for KimberlySnyder.net — she generates around 20% of her revenue through a bright, red Hellobar.
This tool may not be beautiful. In fact, on some websites, it looks like a total eyesore. But it stands out.
You see, audiences online have limited attention spans. They’re powering through websites (and digesting information at a million miles an hour). The only way to grab their attention is to stand out from everything that is competing for their attention. That is where color comes in.
Color has value beyond aesthetics. Yes, we all have preferences, but why? The answer to that question will directly affect your online marketing and conversion optimization strategy. Color is something that’s always around us, but we rarely think about how it impacts us. In this chapter, we’re going to overthink it. Everything you’ve ever wanted to know about color will be captured in the next 20+ pages.
Color Theory
There is a clear science to picking colors that work together. There is a definite element of subjectivity involved (culture, generational perspectives, and personal preferences), but there is also a set of best practices that psychologists and designers will stick to. Colm Tuite, a user experience designer, breaks down color into the following framework.
Pures, Tints, Shades & Tones
PURE COLOR
These are colors that are not mixed with other hues. They’re usually incorporated into bright designs. Anything youthful, summery, cheerful, energetic, or ‘cool’ can benefit from using pure colors.
TINTS
These are colors mixed with white. They convey a lighter, more peaceful, and less energetic feeling than pure colors. They’re also considered more feminine. Companies in the health, spa, and beauty industries could benefit from using these colors.
SHADES
These are colors mixed with black and are effective in communicating mysterious, dark, evil, or dangerous moods. Shades can work well with gradients when used with either a pure color or lighter shade.
The Meanings Of Colors
Certain colors are tied to cultural, emotional, and social connotations. Here are some meanings of colors in the western world.
Tints and shades can help influence the feelings that color conveys. For instance, a darker shade of blue would convey more security and integrity. Lighter shades of blue would convey more tranquility and peace. Some colors have developed a particular meaning over time due to use from certain organizations (i.e. a branding effective).
For instance, the Catholic Church uses deep shades of purple and red, giving the colors a spiritual meaning. Pink has also become associated with femininity. Countries have also adopted certain colors as their own (for instance, Ireland and green).
Maintaining Simplicity
A common mistake when working with colors is to use too many of them. It is usually better to use one prominent color that is offset by a neutral color like white, gray, or black. When you use too many colors, you may end up conveying too many feelings or messages at once — something that will potentially confuse the person viewing your design.
Contrast
For the most part, dark colors are strong complements to bright colors. That is why most books are designed using white backgrounds and black text. Each color has a contrast value (white is the lightest and black is the darkest). Yellow and green have light values (so they would be difficult to read on a white background).
Example
Let’s say that a client approaches your (hypothetical design) company looking for a logo. The company is a beauty spa, which uses natural, organic products. The target market is women, and she is trying to convey a peaceful messages, rather than an energetic one. So, she knows that tints are the best route to take, as opposed to pure colors or shades. Colors to convey tranquility and femininity are pink, yellow, purple, and blue.
The client really wants to drive home that products are organic. One option is green, which conveys thoughts of freshness and the environment. The following shade of green, however, is not very feminine:
So the shade would need to be a little light
If you also want to convey a bit of tranquility, you would add a bit of blue.
Color And Conversions
Here’s the quick facts on how colors impact conversions:
92.6% of people say the visual dimension is the #1 influencing factor affecting their purchase decision (over taste, smell, etc.).
Studies suggest that people make a subconscious judgment about a product within 90 seconds of initial viewing. Up to 90% of that assessment is based on color alone.
One study found that magazine readers recognize full-color ads 26% more often than black-and-white ads.
Heinz changed the color of their signature ketchup from red to green and sold over 10 million bottles in the first 7 months, resulting in $23 million in sales.
Here’s some additional facts on how color effects purchase decisions:
When marketing new products, it is important to understand that consumers place visual appearance and color above other factors when they shop.
85% of shoppers place color as a primary reason for why they buy a particular product.
Color increases brand recognition by 80%. Brand recognition is directly tied to consumer confidence.
Colors are not universal in nature. Colors that entice in North America are different from those that entice in India. See the infographic (below) to see how different colors affect online consumers in North America.
Color is not the only element that influences consumer behavior. For online shoppers, design, buzzwords and convenience also affect the need to shop.
Color affects us in countless ways, both mentally and physically. Psychologists have suggested that color impression can account for 60% of the acceptance or rejection of a product or service. A bad color combination can have the same user experience consequences of poor copy or slow page load times.
Gender
ender is something we’ve talked about in the last few sections — but it’s important for us to call out specifically. At any given time, your audience is some proportion of men and women. For the sake of argument, we’re going to say 50/50, but the reality is that this number can fluctuate depending on your business and industry. If you’re not careful (and create gender-centric marketing imagery), you could end up losing out on up to 50% of your web traffic and conversions.
In our everyday lives, we see the world as individuals. We need to change our perspective and start seeing the world as marketers instead. Color is out of the ways to market to people who aren’t like us.
In general, research says that gender associations with color are ambiguous.
Some observations that some analysts have made:
A review of color studies done by Eysenck in early 1940’s notes the following results to the relationship between gender and color. Dorcus (1926) found yellow had a higher affective value for the men than women and St. George (1938) maintained that blue for men stands out far more than for women.
An even earlier study by Jastrow (1897) found men preferred blue to red and women red to blue. Eysenck’s study, however, found only one gender difference with yellow being preferred to orange by women and orange to yellow by men. This finding was reinforced later by Birren (1952) who found men preferred orange to yellow; while women placed orange at the bottom of the list.
Guilford and Smith (1959) found men were generally more tolerant toward achromatic colors than women. Thus, Guilford and Smith proposed that women might be more color-conscious and their color tastes more flexible and diverse. Likewise, McInnis and Shearer (1964) found that blue green was more favored among women than men, and women preferred tints more than shades. They also found 56% of men and 76% of women preferred cool colors, and 51% men and 45% women chose bright colors. In a similar study, Plater (1967) found men had a tendency to prefer stronger chromas than women.
What’s important to keep in mind is that cultural and social contexts are changing all the time. There is so much variation in the population that you’re not going to be able to appease everybody with just one color scheme. You could read all of the psychology studies in the world, but if you sit around trying to be a perfectionist, you’re never going to get anything done.
The best way to figure out if you’re excluding men and women in your marketing? Talk to people in your target customer base. Research some of the color schemes that your competitors are using. Don’t leave the decision to guess work, but don’t dwell on finding the “right” answer either (because you probably won’t).
The best answer is in your data. In addition to conducting qualitative research with your target customers, make sure that you’re running consistent A/B tests.
Accessibility
As you’re designing your website, keep in mind that your audiences perceive the world differently. Even if you have perfect vision, the world doesn’t. The W3C Web Accessibility initiative has put together a list of resources to help website owners ensure that their websites are accessible to people with disabilities. Here is a guide to help you establish checkpoints for accessible colors.
Brightness
rightness, for the purpose of this discussion, is defined as the intensity of light illuminating an object. It can be calculated as the arithmetic mean of the red, green, and blue color coordinates. The W3C suggests using the following formula to determine color brightness:
BRIGHTNESS = ((RED X 299) + (GREEN X 587) + (BLUE X 114))/1000
A visible color should be brighter than 125
Color Difference
Color difference is the variation in hugh between the foreground and the background color of your website. Here is a formula to help you calculate the color difference:
RED = MAX(RED FOREGROUND, RED BACKGROUND)
-MIN(RED FOREGROUND, RED BACKGROUND)
GREEN = MAX(GREEN FOREGROUND, GREEN BACKGROUND) -MIN(GREEN FOREGROUND, GREEN BACKGROUND)
BLUE = MAX(BLUE FOREGROUND, BLUE BACKGROUND)
-MIN(BLUE FOREGROUND, BLUE BACKGROUND)
= (RED) + (GREEN) + (BLUE)
Background and foreground color are visible if the color difference has a value greater than 500.
Rules Of Thumb
To make sure that your website is accessible, start by following these best practices:
Use font sizes that are large enough to read. While this tip is not directly related to color, it is important to keep in mind. Ultimately, color is not a standalone concept — it works together with other elements of your website, advertisements, and landing pages.
Keep paragraphs short so that information is easy to digest (and readers don’t feel like they’re looking a giant block of color).
Use complimentary but contrasting colors between your background and foreground. You can use a color wheel to figure out which colors will potentially work well together.
Relevance To Sales
When you’re choosing colors for your website, landing pages, and call to action buttons, you’re not just choosing colors for the sake of aesthetics. Here is a chart from Ren Walker at AdPearance that gives an overview of colors within the context of call to action buttons (in the Western world):
Wow. That’s a lot of options. Which one should you choose? Even if you’re a color psychology expert, it can be tough to decide on just one color — for a form button, for instance. What if you want to create a sense of urgency but also trust?
The most important way to narrow down your options is to consider the context of your form. What type of information are you looking to collect? If the potential lead needs to include personal information beyond basic contact details, you might consider choosing a calming color like green or blue. You should also consider what the rest of your page looks like. A red button, for instance, won’t stand out on a page that is based on the same color. Choose contrasting colors so that your call to action (CTA) buttons stand out on your landing pages.
Capturing Audience’s Attention
Take this commonly cited A/B test, for instance:
Performable — an email marketing platform that was acquired by HubSpot, experienced a 21% boost in conversions when the company changed its call to action button color from green to red.
The effect of the color change has everything to do with the CTA’s context.
The page on the left is very-much geared towards a green palette. The green CTA just blends within the page’s surrounding context. Red, however, presents a drastic visual context. The button truly stands out from the other elements on the page.
Website Elements Affected
In a blog post for CrazyEgg, Stephanie Hamilton put together a comprehensive list of website elements impacted by color:
Text Links
One solution for drawing attention to monochromatic links is to give them a faint background to lift them off the page. This technique helps to remind users where they are on your website. Check out how AppZapper makes the “overview” link by highlighting it in green when the user is on the page.
Navigation
Bronto uses saturated colors to bring attention to its website navigation. This helps focus the reader’s attention to this extremely important (but small) part of the website.
Buttons
Use colors to make your website’s call to action (CTA) buttons stand out from other elements on your website. Large, vibrant buttons will help your users understand what actions they should be taking on your website.
Headings
Vibrant (but minimal) headings can help illuminate the most important concepts that you’re trying to communicate on your website.
List Items
If you want to draw attention to a certain feature or section of your website, you can use colors in a way that don’t overwhelm the rest of your page’s design.
Complement Your Brand’s Personality
Brand personality is a concept that we’ve talked about earlier in this guide. Color presents a powerful opportunity for self-expression. Use colors to accentuate your existing brand identity, and make sure that you piece together a cohesive style. At the end of the day, color is only one part of your branding equation and ultimately needs to complement your voice, persona, tone, and company values.
Here are the steps that we advises marketers take:
1. Decide which emotions you want to convey
This decision will help you decide what color(s) you want to pick and whether you’ll need to create a blend with others. You’ll need to pick a range of colors from the following options:
Monochromatic: stick with colors that belong to one color family (such as brown or blue)
Analogous: use two or three colors that appear next to one another on the color wheel
Complementary: Chose two colors that are opposite one another on the color wheel
Triadic: Chose three colors, equally spaced around the color wheel
2. Choose the palette that best communicates your company’s style
Warm and Comforting Browns
Browns evoke home, hearth, comfort, and warmth. You can combine different shades of brown with grays or blues to create a highly comforting vibe.
Playful Greens
If your brand is playful of energetic, consider using a palette with greens, blues, and oranges. This color scheme combines a pleasing, down to earth vibe with high energy.
Serious Blues
Blues are calming and serious You can combine your color scheme with gray, tan, or orange, but you’ll want to keep secondary colors toned down so that you’re not overloading your audience with a chaotic look and feel.
Energetic Reds
Reds provide a burst of energy. If you’re not careful, however, you’ll risk overwhelming your audience. Offer plenty of white space to give your users’ eyes a break.
Know Your Niche
Your industry has everything to do with your website’s color scheme and brand personality. A finance website, for instance, should be down to earth. If you move too far from the established path, you’ll risk confusing or causing cognitive dissonance with your customer base. Here are some examples of color schemes that work well for finance sites:
This color palette relies on greens that users are used to seeing with financial institutions. The gold switches it up a bit, and the black gives the scheme a foundation of strength and authority.
This is a strong color combination for a financial brand because it goes beyond the obvious association with money (green). Gold and black reinforce the concept of wealth and provide a sense of stability.
Here is an example of a ‘cool’ color palette that uses traditional financial colors (green and blue):
By using these colors in lighter, brighter values, the brand associates itself with the finance world in a way that looks modern and youthful rather than heavy and overbearing.
The use of white space gives the website a clean, light feel. This is especially valid for a finance site, which drives business by building trust with its user base.
Key Takeaways
Color is something that we could seriously talk about forever, but there are still many more topics that we need to cover in this guide. Now is a good time to step back, reflect on key concepts covered, and prep our brains for what’s coming next.
There is a clear science to picking colors that work well together. Pure colors, tints, and shades are some of the most basic color variations that you’ll be working with. Know the moods and feelings that your color choices are likely to evoke.
Colors come with social and cultural connotations. Remember your frame of reference when you think about how your color choices will affect your audience.
Remember that people are reading your content from different perspectives. Eyeballs were not created differently. Some of us have perfect vision while others strain to read text on a screen. Make sure that your text is easy to read by using contrasting colors.
Red and green are the colors most affected by vision deficiency, especially among men. Be careful when you’re working with these colors.
Color can help you boost conversion rates. When creating your CTAs, pick colors that contrast dramatically from the rest of your color scheme. This boldness ensures that your visual cues stand out. Remember, people on the Internet have limited attention spans and are flaky. The more that you can (quickly) capture their attention, the easier time you’ll have engaging them.
A/B testing should be a part of your conversion optimization process. Instead of debating which colors to use, let the data decide for you.
Pay attention to standard color schemes in your industry. If you choose something that is too out-of-the-box, you risk causing cognitive dissonance among your audience. In other words, people will have no clue what your brand is about.
Remember that gender can have a significant impact on color. One way to play it safe (and appeal to a wide audience) is to choose blues and greens.
When buying new products, consumers are heavily swayed by visual appearance. Don’t take any shortcuts with your color choices and design. There are professional designers and branding consultants who can help you figure out what works well together and what doesn’t. Ultimately, everything should complement your brand personality.
Color can help you accentuate elements on your website (like navigation, lists, certain buttons of content, etc.).
Color has the potential to increase brand recognition by 80%. Choose color schemes that are memorable (but for the right reasons). A carefully chosen color scheme will help your identity shine.
When in doubt, ask your customers what they like. Take a look at the colors that brands catering to the same audience are using. There are so many free and creative resources out there — you’re never just jumping in blind
http://www.quicksprout.com/psychology-of-color/
Read more here - http://review-and-bonuss.blogspot.com/2019/04/the-psychology-of-color.html
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