<div align="center">(http://ro.nevermorecity.net/maxbanner.jpg)</div><br/><div style="text-align: left;"><strong>Name:</strong>  Maxwell Garamonde<br/><strong>Scion of:</strong>  Thoth<br/><strong>Location:</strong>  O'Bryan's Nine Irish Brothers (Irish Pub)<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>  Edith Geir<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong> A charcoal Seville Row suit, matching vest, gold tie and pocket square.<br/><strong>Time of day:</strong>  Mid-afternoon</div><hr/><br/>Max noted Edith's change in posture, and his smile continued pleasantly... even though he knew she was repositioning herself in case the needs for weapons arose. He decided it was as good a time as any to apply some of his ability and have her give him the<em>Benefit of the Doubt</em>. He'd nothing to hide, of course, but the last thing he needed was for a jumpy Scion to put bullets into him. He rather liked his suit.<br/><br/>"I assure you, miss; I very much shared William's... view of things. His loss is a great blow to both of us, I'm sure."<br/><br/>Resting his cane against the bar, Maxwell looked nothing short of relaxed, as well. Naturally, he would be more than happy to produce his own weaponry, if needed. "And you needn't worry about the wrong ears overhearing us, at the moment. I made quite sure, before speaking, that others attentions were being directed elsewhere. Though I<strong>do</strong>believe, if we were to further discuss matters at hand, we may need to move away from the more crowded areas."