{ isola starter call ! || @ovcrcoat ! }
"You did not see me slip the card into my other hand. It's unbecoming to lie, you know."
Maxwell shoots Nicolai a withering glare, frustrated by the fact that his practice partner is probably actually telling the truth-- that last sleight of hand pass was downright sloppy. It's been over twenty years since Maxwell last performed close-up tricks without the aid of actual magic (and he couldn't move his blasted wrists for the majority of that time, either), so there's bound to be a learning curve now that he's trying to return to the art. But still. This is embarrassing!
"Fine, then!" he hisses, tossing the deck down onto the table in front of the other man.
"If I'm so terrible at this and you're so perfect, you do it!"
A LAUGH spills out of him at the defensiveness. he understands, though ! the pain of seeing a trick go awry. even the most seasoned magicians slip up from time to time, right?
nikolai himself works very hard to keep his skills sharp ( a mistake in his line of work can cost him his very life, after all ) and so he takes the deck and shuffles it. he's smiling, delighted, he loves meeting someone who understands magic and showmanship !
"i am indeed perfect," he agrees, that easy smile on his face. "thank you for noticing."
with a flourish, he draws a card—the three of clubs, but he's not really looking—and holds it up. "memorize this one. now..."
he shuffles the deck again, sliding it into his sleeve and activating his ability, making the card appear out of thin air above maxwell's head, falling onto his shoulder. how long will it take the man to notice?
"drat, where did it go!" he asks, feigning ignorance and patting his pockets as if searching for it.
