and then he fell

            With a groggy groan, Medusa pushed open her door, revealing Max a few feet away, striding toward her. She stood with the door ajar; enough to reveal herself but not enough for him to come inside. 

        "No it cannot!" He nearly jumped, rushing over to her side, insisting she be awake, rushing her to be up, reaching and gripping her arm to shake her awake, to listen to him, why was he not moving her as he felt he was oh right that is why he keeps forgetting                                 quickswallowthebiledon'tthinkofityouareMaximus.

[ She goes over to where she’s told. Staring down at the panel, she stares at it, eyebrows screwing together. It’s almost all mumbo jumbo but she can decipher whats what. Seeing the panel that shuts the door, she flicks it to make it close. ] 

           Alright, now what? 

[ He was getting a headache from this excessive thought already. And his eyes kept jumping from one unfinished project to another, unfocused, unable to focus, only screaming to him over and over all he didn't to do and all he could not do and all that would never ]

The way down was a lengthy one. Should he have chosen to take a step before her voice had reached him, Black Bat was positive she would have enough time to stop him. There was no danger in falling—save for the unfortunate whiplash; she was careful of that risk, however. The fall was never the finale mistake she had noticed. It was the determination.

The end. The desire for silence or contentment. Falling to your death might have been fast, but the impact stopped time. After the skull split, they would be frozen. No future for them nor a past to dwell. Just present second of clarity before the smash.

On that front, she could understand why the man might fine the alternative less pleasant. The body hummed. Never stop. never slow. Going and going until his own voice brought his body to halt. Intriguing. If he was truly committed to that end, he’d do it. All the skill in the world could not stop him from getting that, she knew.

     "What will I not get?" Speaking to demons was always a foolish endeavor. Later, oh later, surely, surely surely-- stop repeating yourself, you idiot, he'd be tugging at his hair, cursing his idiocy speaking to phantoms not truly there, only fabricated by his mind. He knew this, knowledge tucked away at the back of his skull, calling to him, vaguely heard and yet he still spoke to her.

     This odd demon. That he chose to speak to. It never ended well, they always ended up spitting such awful lies, such awful words, such terrible things he did not even wish to remember. Nothing good came from it, but this one was odd. The voice was not as he'd heard, and it's word choice was odd and odd odd odd. So many things had been odd lately, he really must find a new word to describe such happenings.

arms tonite by mother mother [lyrics]

      “Adonis. Uh-don-is.” Rail thin, crooked hook nose, scarred lips, tangled rat’s nest hair, if Maximus was an Adonis, then the standard has dropped low. Sub basement low. Agartha low.

      “Learn how to pronounce a word before slinging it around, my king.” Leaning forward, he reaches out to tug at Maximus’ belt. He wore his pants too high. “You don’t want others to mistake you for a fool.”

      He fixed Maximus’ pants and shirt, and then swept him aside to glance at the mirror. Back to his search for a fitting face.

      “Unlikely as such an assumption would be, of course.” The sound of bones crunching and cracking, and muscles and skin stretching and squelching accompanied his words. He cycled through different features. Blue eyes, brown eyes, green eyes, gray eyes, and various shades of hazel. Hawkish nose, button nose, full lips and thin, round cheeks and hollow, crooked teeth crowded tight and straight teeth lined up in an even row.

      "No one dare think Maximus a fool." He swiped at Dmitri's retreating hands, tugging at the waistband of his pants with a huff. Before he could 'sling' another retort back at him, Maximus became engrossed in watching the display as he changed constantly. Bones and body twisting, pulling melting, molding, an absolutely breathtaking display. An arousing display on many levels as well. Ecstasy in a physical manifestation, there was no other words for it.

       I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to, babe. I’m Kate Bishop - I’m only greedy with coffee and I give most of my money towards charity. 

[ She gives a small nip to his neck, sliding her lips up to the shell of his ear. She nuzzles him there now. She’s trying to ignore the way her fingers sting in the water — or rather, how she couldn’t almost feel anything besides that dull ache that had settled into them. She brushes her hands down to his stomach and settles them onto his skinny hips. ] 

       Ah, I did not expect you to jump to my word so quickly, Kate Bishop, you are never so compliant. I am glad. I will contact Medusa immediately after our bath.

[ He almost purrs at her affection. He had not been in the best state for obvious reasons, and physical contact often triggered panic attacks or dysphoric episodes that lasted for hours. He'd desired her company, but his damned body would not allow him such a luxury. But this distance did not hinder her, it seems. She was as she always was. And he was grateful. ]