Question Max the Prequel! Max goes to Whateley.

Elizabeth Carson looked at the young man in front of her. Gangly, messy blonde hair, shirt untucked with buttons unevenly made and a plethora of other small things about him. Not to mention his aggravatingly goofy smile.

He was Maximilian Powell, or as his MID said, D.E.M. A suitable name given to him, if Elizabeth had understood the story correctly, by a fat and lazy sherif doubling as an MCO deputized agent.


Deus Ex Maximus.


She looked down at the list again, there were quite a few rather unbelievable entries on it. She knew of some of them, the young man having told her himself on one of his previous visits on parents day. The rest had been confirmed by his older sister, Desireé Powell, as being true.

Still, unbelievable. She found it hard to believe that something as mundane and simple as roasting marshmallows could escalate into a three states wide emergency, a complete crash of New Mexico electrical grid and the intervention of the MCO, a super group and the Knights of Purity.
But there it was, explaining in detail what, and how it had happened.

She glanced at his MID again. Probability Warper five. The little asterix at the end of that particular entry on the card signified that the DPA highly encouraged further and more extensive testing.

What made it worse was that he refused to acknowledge that he was a probability warper. His denials had been rather profuse.
It also said Wizard two. That was more in line with what she knew of the boy. She was well aware that he had manifested at an uncharacteristically low age. What are the odds of that happening, huh? had been his only comment to that. It had also been the only thing he had said that had come close to admitting he was a probability warper.
Of course, Elizabeth knew about this, having been familiar enough with his family for years that she had attended the funeral for the boys parents.


It was this familiarity that presented her with her current predicament. Maximilian was supposed to have been in Poe Cottage due to the unique tradition in his family. Boys turned to girls and girls turned to boys.

Yet, here Maximilian Powell sat, still very much a boy. And obviously quite proud of it.

“I know you’re technically a legacy student, Mr. Powell, but I’m afraid you’re just not a fit for Poe.
“And I know you know why and that you know I expect you to keep it to yourself.” She paused for a second to check his response.
He just gave her that goofy smile again. Not that he had stopped smiling since coming in here. Most students were usually anxious about being summoned to her office, especially on the first day even. But Maximilian Powell just smiled. Annoyingly so.

“We shall put you in Melville instead, I think.” She looked at her screen, moved through a couple of lists until she found the right one. “Yes, Melville should be fine for you. We’ll put you with Toolbox. Mr. Garrick Geselle out of New York.
“I believe the two of you will fit nicely together.”

“Is he cool?” Max just asked, still smiling.

Elizabeth smiled back at him; “I’ll let you decide that for yourself. He’s a gadgeteer. Good grades and good references with a few entries in his records about pranks. Yes, the two of you will go nicely together, I think.”

The aggravating smile adorning the boys face grew wider.

“Now, as for your other papers here,” Elizabeth pulled out a letter from a Brenda Powell, the boys aunt, “it says you’ve been working with magic and artificing for quite a few years. Your aunt requests we fast track you to more advanced classes right away. It’s not impossible, Mr. Powell, but you understand that we shall have to administer some tests in order to best determine your knowledge and skills with the subject matter.

“Though, from what your aunt writes, she seems to think it would be unwise for us to hold you back.”
The letter from his aunt stated, much to Elizabeth’s worry, that for Maximilian, basic magic classes were boring. And when he got bored, “interesting things” started happening.

“That’s fine, I’m great with tests! Just ask old Mrs. Hamster. Weird name, I know, but she-”

“Yes, Mr. Powell, it’s all here, homeschooled by Mrs. Belinda Hampfther.
“Excellent grades, Math, English, Science, Spanish, Italian, Art, History. It is always a pleasure to meet a student with such a diligent approach to learning. Latin as well?”

Max nodded vigorously; “Definitely. And Aramaic too. A lot of uncle Finn’s old grimoires are in obscure languages. Gotta know how to read ‘em. ” Max pointed at a few of the books adorning the office of the Headmistress. "Though, admittedly, my Aramaic shouldn't be considered among the best."

“I’ve read several of the old classics too, Mrs. Hamster insisted. Ulysses, though that one was a bit of a dry drag. The Iliad, the Edda, Machiavelli, Sun Tzu. Hell, I’ve even read Julio’s Commentāriī dē Bellō Gallicō. Also Astérix. Oh, and other books as well, it’s all in there.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as she skimmed the list of works the boy had been instructed to read by his tutor. She was impressed, yet; “Asterix?” She asked, she wasn’t familiar with that writer.

Max’s smiled changed a bit to one of mischief; “It’s a more, shall we say humorous account of the Roman occupation of Gaul, written by René Goscinny and Albert Uderzo. You should check it out, I think you’d like it.”

Elizabeth nodded, a bit to herself, she was not familiar with the gentlemen named, but; “I’ll note your recommendation for another time. In the meantime, however, this is an impressive list. Not many students come here having read the diaries of Julius Caesar. And I’ll thank you not to refer to him as Julio!

”Why so many and such a varied list, Mr. Powell? And if there are any essays, I would ask you make them available for perusal by your English teacher.”

Max shrugged, still giving her that annoying smile; “I’ll ask Desi to ask Mrs. Hamster. Also, that woman is relentless. I had to read a whole pile of books that none of my older brothers and sisters had to read. That old bag can carry a grudge, that’s for sure! But you know what? I’m not complaining either, some of those are actually rather interesting. I’ve got several of them with my luggage along with other works I’ve acquired for the future.”

“Excellent, then I think you’ll be interested to know that there’s an advanced World Literature class on the school’s program, with professor Paul Zinn. It’s normally not for freshmen students, but with your grades and you having studied these works, we could come to an arrangement, if you’re interested?”

Again, Max shrugged; “Never heard of him. In any case, thanks, but no thanks. There are other classes I’m more interested in, they’re also on the list. But I guess I too am happy to take recommendations, I was planning on reading Cicero next.” Max responded, looking around again.

“It’s your decision, Mr. Powell, but very well. Discuss these classes with your faculty advisor, which will be Mrs. Chulkris, and we’ll see about testing for the advanced classes as quickly as possible. Until then, however, you will have to take Magic 101.

“Also, reading Cicero sounds like an excellent idea. But if you do, I’ll expect twenty pages of your thoughts and evaluations by the end of the semester.” While she wasn’t the young man’s teacher, Elizabeth wanted to exert her authority as Headmistress and “expect” extra work from obviously capable students such as this one.

Max, on the hand, let his smile fade a bit. “Twenty pages? I’m not sure I understand, is this some extra credit work? Or what?” He asked.

“Mr. Powell, I’m the Headmistress of a prestigious private academy. I am well within my rights to assign extra work to my students if I feel it warranted. Your education up until your acceptance to the academy has been exemplary. So much so, in fact, that I and your teachers will be expecting more from you that we otherwise would.
“I’m sorry, but that’s what happens when you excel!” Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, just a little satisfied with herself. If nothing else, it wiped that annoying goofy smile off his face.

Or so she thought.

Max thought it over for a few seconds, and then the smile returned, much to Elizabeth’s consternation.

“So, school hasn’t even started yet and you’re already giving me homework? Robbie was right, this is different from homeschooling. Twenty pages, huh? It’s a deal. I’ll read Cicero’s De Natura Deorum and give you the paper as an xmas present. It’ll be my gift to you, since we’re getting to be such good friends, Mrs. C.”

Elizabeth sighed, “Let us hope it’s worth waiting for then, I still remember much of the work some of your siblings delivered despite my eager efforts to forget.” She slowly shook her head. Maximilian Powell already seemed much smarter than the majority of Powells who had attended Whateley. Not that they had been especially bad students, but some of them had, to Elizabeth’s mind, seemed less interested in the finer points of classical culture and literature, and more interested in so-called popular culture. It could be argued, she supposed, that since all of them apart from Maximilian had succumbed to the Powell family curse and switched genders, it made sense for them to familiarize themselves with the appropriate zeitgeist involving their new lot in life.

But most of them had also seemed just a little too simple for Elizabeth. A few of them were very well educated, no doubt, but none of them approached the young man seated in front of her.
Yes, despite a few quirky mannerisms, and an inappropriate familiarity that somehow managed to grate on her patience, she was pleased with Maximilian Powell and the potential he exhibited.

“Well then, Mr. Powell, welcome to Whateley Academy. You may pick up your welcome package from Ms. Hartford outside and head straight to Melville Cottage. I’m sure Mr. Forrest will introduce you to Toolbox and help you get settled in.” She turned to the third person in the room, who had remained silent throughout the meeting; “Bella, it appears that I called you here for nothing, Mr. Powell will not be joining Poe Cottage.”

“Quite understandable, though surprising given the family’s history.” Mrs. Horton responded. She got up and prepared to leave, giving her goodbyes to the Headmistress before turning to Max.

It was Max who spoke first when he shook her hand; “Eh, can’t be helped I suppose. I’m not gay, though I could handle sharing a room with someone who is. Especially considering ladies such as Zoe, Elaine and Marty. Oh, and Rosalyn, yowsa!

“But don’t worry, there’s always Milhouse left, and if I’m being perfectly honest, he does seem a bit effeminate, but maybe that’s just my big brother bias. Still, eight out of nine isn’t all that bad, Mrs. Haitch. Well, I’ll see you around.” He winked at Mrs. Carson and added “Later, Mrs. C,” before he headed out in the front office and stopped at the assistant headmistress, Amelia Hartford’s desk.


Elaine was at the counter when the new student came out of the Headmistress’ office. That was weird, students almost rarely smiled when they came out of there, yet this one? This one, Maximilian Powell, was smiling from ear to ear. He was even laughing a bit. Elaine could even hear the audible sigh coming from the Headmistress.

He stopped in front of Amelia Hartford, or Hartass as she was known among the student populace. And frankly, rightly so. She looked up at the boy, her stare one that had made students who could be counted as among the most powerful in the world flinch. The boy just smiled as she told him to wait.

Elaine’s jaw dropped, almost to the floor, when the boy just smiled and said okay, as if he wasn’t standing in front of probably the either second or third scariest person at school.
Then, her jaw dropped even further.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

The boy had moved his fingers and muttered something under his breath, and suddenly he was holding a bag of something in his hands.
Yuck, it was certainly foul smelling.

Are those…

For a third time, Elaine’s jaw dropped as Hartford twitched her nose at the smell and looked up at the boy.

“What. Is. That, Mr. Powell?” She asked.

The boy shrugged, “It’s a family recipe, tasty!”

Crunch.

“Are you eating… whatever that is, in my office?”

Max looked at the bag for a moment, then looked back at Hartford with a questioning eyebrow raised, “I feel like this is a trick question…?
“Oh, I get it, I get it!” For the fourth time, Elaine’s jaw dropped as the boy taunted the wrath of Hartford as he reached into the bag and held a piece of the foul smelling content out under her nose.

“Pork rind?” He asked, seemingly genuinely, “I made them myself, it’s a family recipe.”

Ms Hartford’s astonishment was almost as big as Elaine’s. “Pork… Rinds? You’ve brought Pork rinds into my office? Foul smelling pig skin? Into my office? I… What… Who… The hell do you think you are?” She practically sputtered. The nerve!

Elaine was struck dumb. The boy hadn’t just managed to rattle Amelia hartford within seconds, he continued to do so as he held out his hand; “I’m Max Powell, please to meet ya again, Ms. Hartford.”

“Get that disgusting bag out of here, right this instant!” Hartford practically yelled at him.

The boy shrugged and held out the bag to her; “Pork rinds are a hundred million dollar business, I’d think you of all people would respect something like that? In any case, don’t talk smack unless you try them first. C’mon, take one, you know you want to!”

Elaine wasn’t sure if it was shock from being addressed so brazenly by a freshman student, or if it was the pungent stench of fried pig skin blowing straight into her face, but Hartford didn’t respond. She just sat there, eyes open and her too with a dropped jaw, a look of horror and disgust on her face.

Max held the bag under the assistant Headmistress’ nose a few more seconds before he withdrew it. He ate a few more pieces, waiting for her to respond. When she didn’t, he looked over her desk. There was a brown envelope, Max turned it around. It read Maximilian Powell on it.

“For me? thanks, I’ll find my own way to Melville then. Catch ya later, Ms. Bambi. Elaine.” He headed out of the administration’s office, only turning to wave at his bags; “Come along, baggies. Time to find our new home.”
The two obedient, and quite obviously enchanted, suitcases rolled after him out the door. Outside the school’s administration, but still inside Schuster Hall, Max first took a moment to look around to see if anything had changed from when he last was here.
It wasn’t really much. There was a new painting, that seemed to be it. So, with a happy smile, Max headed outside and towards Melville. He hadn’t taken more than a few steps before he was greeted with the sight of several young ladies. Probably, they were all at least a year older than him, but that had never stopped Max before. Of course he had never had success either.

That too, wasn’t something that had ever stopped him, or even remotely managed to slow him down.

“Hiya, ladies, how’re you all doing?” He held out the bag to them; “Pork rind?”

The girls just looked at him with disgust, and a few of them even with contempt.

The first one, the leader of the group it seemed, snarled; “What makes you think you can talk to us, freshman?”

Max shrugged innocently; “I dunno, it seems to be going rather well, I think. I mean, I suppose it could be just an illusion, but it seems more plausible that we’re talking for realsies. Pork rind?” He inquired again. Once again, his question was met with disgust, several of the girls exclaiming their disgust with “Ew” and “Yuck”.

One of them, a tallish blonde who was clearly an Exemplar, snorted at him; “Shut your mouth, freshman, clearly you don’t know who we are! I’m Solange and this Hekate! You’re talking to the queen of the Alphas! Now piss off!”

Max looked repeatedly from Solange to Hekate, still sporting his wide smile, “You say that like that’s supposed to mean something to me? Alphas, what are those? Some sort of club?”

“The Alphas rule this school, and you better remember that, freshman! Or we’ll make your life miserable! We’ll destroy you! Make sure you’re-” The blonde continued her rant while the other, Hekate, simply rolled her eyes.

Max held out the bag again, inviting them to take a piece. Then he snapped his fingers, interrupting the blonde, Solange. “I just remembered! I gotta go sign in at my cottage, any of you know the way to Melville?”

The blonde, Solange, gawked; “You… You’re in Melville? But you’re disgusting! You smell!”

“Well, my breath smells like pork rinds, but that’s fair. I’ve been munching on them all morning. C’mon, someone take a piece? Hartford didn’t seem to mind, at least she didn’t complain, much.”

The dark haired girl, Hekate, gave Max a dismissive wave; “Come on girls, ignore the freshman. Solange, this really is beneath us!” She turned and headed inside, the rest of the girls, save Solange, followed.

“Don’t think this is over with, freshman! I don’t have to take shit fro-”

Max interrupted her again before she launched into another rant, in the most annoying, to her, way. He pushed the bag up under her nose;

“Pork rind?”