Oh come on! There's no way that my luck is that bad!
- 168cm tall.
- 79kg.
- Hair: reddish brown. Not ginger!
- Eyes: Dark blue.
- Noticeable features: Burn scar on the left wrist/hand, freckles, faintly neurotic demeanour.
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Christopher Maxey
An average Joe, or at least, he hopes so.
0 · 1,174 views · located in 
Main Street
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by AugmentationAudit
Description
So begins...
Christopher Maxey's Story
Christopher Maxey wandered into the bar for the first time, looking both curious and faintly guilty. It had been this eighteenth birthday three days ago; he was legal, he had ID, and what his parents said should no longer matter now that he was an adult in the eyes of the law.
With a grin that wasn't quite as confident as he wanted it to be, he headed for the counter; it seemed that the whole place was deserted, which was odd. ...and faintly disappointing. He'd hoped to see an actual mutant today.
With a grin that wasn't quite as confident as he wanted it to be, he headed for the counter; it seemed that the whole place was deserted, which was odd. ...and faintly disappointing. He'd hoped to see an actual mutant today.
Christopher Maxey was intimidated and fascinated in equal parts; he'd never seen a real mutant before, despite all the stories on the news and what his parents told him. This one seemed friendly (and sometimes he wondered if his family wasn't just racist, because surely they couldn't all be that bad), though he was still rather unsure.
"Oh, hi! I'm Chris; nice to meet you, Mitus!" It sounded a little forced, of course, but he was trying to be friendly too.
"Oh, hi! I'm Chris; nice to meet you, Mitus!" It sounded a little forced, of course, but he was trying to be friendly too.
Christopher Maxey stared at the changes in the bar counter; he'd been right! It was a real mutant! Fantastic! ...but also totally terrifying. He'd listened to his parents, he'd seen their honest fear; one touch from that arm- he wasn't sure what could happen. But in America they carried guns on the streets; he'd seen it on the TV. A man with a gun could kill him too, so could some guy his age or younger with a beer bottle and some form of grudge; it didn't matter that this man was a mutant.
"Uh- a pint of Fosters, please?" He rooted around, proudly flashing his ID; he was even glad that it had a terrible picture of him on it.
"Uh- a pint of Fosters, please?" He rooted around, proudly flashing his ID; he was even glad that it had a terrible picture of him on it.
Christopher Maxey , who was eighteen by all of three days, took the mug with only the faintest hesitation, though he didn't drink at once. The glass was cold, which was surprising, and full of what he assumed was the requested drink. He grinned- "Hey, how did you do that?" -and opened his mouth without really engaging his brain. He was good at that. Oh well, too late to go back now. He kept on grinning, wondering how, exactly, the liquid had got into the mug and weather it was safe to drink: didn't the guy just excrete it or something?
Christopher Maxey shook his head, taking a very, very small sip. It tasted as gross as every other beer he'd tried, so he assumed that it was okay. "Only that old-world chemistry stuff. I always thought it was a load of bullcrap dressed up as magic." He really needed to think before speaking.
Christopher Maxey was rather taken aback by the sudden change in character of the man- mutant, he needed to remember this was a mutant- that he was talking to underwent. He- hadn't meant any harm or anything. Maybe his parents, hell, maybe everyone had been right.
With the tight, cloying feeling of embarrassment and the nameless emotion that he always seemed to feel when someone reacted badly to him swelling in his chest he mumbled a quiet "sorry dude" put his money on the counter and backed away. "Didn't mean to offend you or anything..."
With the tight, cloying feeling of embarrassment and the nameless emotion that he always seemed to feel when someone reacted badly to him swelling in his chest he mumbled a quiet "sorry dude" put his money on the counter and backed away. "Didn't mean to offend you or anything..."
Christopher Maxey was doubly confused by the second switch in attitude from the man, and no matter how friendly he was now being, Christopher's confidence had been shredded and the oppressive, nameless feeling wasn't going away. He was very tempted to leave, but that could easily be seen as him walking out, and he didn't want to upset anyone who could kick his ass. "Oh... okay..." he mumbled, taking the money back and holding it rather uselessly.
Christopher Maxey was a little scared by the fact that he'd just had his mind read (or at least that's what he assumed had just happened; that's certainly what it looked like to him), though what scared him the most was the fact that he hadn't felt anything at all. There was no way to defend himself against something that he couldn't feel.
"I-" He didn't know what to say, didn't know what to think. Oh, what if his parents had been right and he was about to have something horrible done to him?!
"I-" He didn't know what to say, didn't know what to think. Oh, what if his parents had been right and he was about to have something horrible done to him?!
Christopher Maxey blanched to a very unhealthy shade of grey when the hand started turning his shoulder into- into something that his shoulder shouldn't be! He yanked himself away with a shout of alarm, dropping both his beer and his money in the process. It didn't matter to him that there was no motor of sensational effects; his mind was quite happy to fool him into believing that there was a creeping feeling through his flesh.
Christopher Maxey remained, covered in beer and having a quietly escalating panic-attack about the whole 'mutant turning part of his body into gold' situation. The fact that it had worn off didn't seem to matter in the slightest because he honestly hadn't noticed. The glass had shattered when it hit the floor, shining fragments littering the ground.
Anyone that possessed a clockwork wrist watch, or other item that had internal clockwork parts would find that it inexplicably stopped working as Christopher panicked and ran from the bar.
Christopher Maxey skulked into the bar, a look on his face declaring that his world was officially over in a way that only boys in their late teens could. He was having a Day, to the absolute extreme, his shoes didn't match despite being sure that he had put on matching shoes when he got dressed, and he needed a drink. Badly.
Christopher Maxey sat moodily at the counter and ordered himself a vodka and coke from the NPC bartender. He used to like wine until Karma, or whatever evil, cosmic shit flinging force that decided he needed to suffer had... put him off. He shuddered at the very thought and took a sip of his drink: still normal. He checked his shoes: still odd, but the same sort of odd that they had been this morning. His socks matched, his wrist watch was- bugger it to hell. He hastily took the watch off before anyone could see.
And he was glad that he had, because it was then that he noticed two men watching him. They both looked normal, but the older of the two seemed- intimidating in some way. Could the younger be his apprentice? A lure to lull people into a false sense of security while the other laid down the letter of the law... he flashed them both a smile, just in case they were monitoring him.
And he was glad that he had, because it was then that he noticed two men watching him. They both looked normal, but the older of the two seemed- intimidating in some way. Could the younger be his apprentice? A lure to lull people into a false sense of security while the other laid down the letter of the law... he flashed them both a smile, just in case they were monitoring him.
Christopher Maxey sighed and went back to his drink, prodding at it morosely when he realised that it had somehow managed to set like a jelly... because clearly he wasn't having a bad enough day already. The other two in the bar (probably waiting to arrest him and cart him off somewhere, knowing his luck) clearly didn't want to talk to him`, so he settled for brooding and waiting to see if his drink would revert to normal.
Christopher Maxey put a hand over the top of his glass to disguise the consistency of his drink in a manner that he hoped was inconspicuous as the younger of the two came over to him. This was clearly the sting... he was going to be mutilated, violated... something else that ended with an -ated! He tried to smile again.
"Your sister?" This was clearly some sort of trick, but he looked at the picture. "Um..." She did look vaguely familial, but that could easily be his imagination and nerves. "Could you tell me a bit about her... I'm not sure..." He didn't know what the trick was... maybe it was a picture of his Aunt Paula when she was younger or something...
"Your sister?" This was clearly some sort of trick, but he looked at the picture. "Um..." She did look vaguely familial, but that could easily be his imagination and nerves. "Could you tell me a bit about her... I'm not sure..." He didn't know what the trick was... maybe it was a picture of his Aunt Paula when she was younger or something...
Christopher Maxey found himself oddly fixated by the fact that the woman in the picture had a scar so like his own... it was strange... most people had no visible scars at all, so this girl in the picture having one almost the same as his... It was definitely a trick, or some strange twist of that damned Karma force that wanted to wreck his life.
"I-" he went to speak but found that someone was already talking and his source of conversation had already looked away. Oh well. He went back to his drink, looking just a little put out... at least it had turned back to vodka and coke again, and at the proper consistency.
"I-" he went to speak but found that someone was already talking and his source of conversation had already looked away. Oh well. He went back to his drink, looking just a little put out... at least it had turned back to vodka and coke again, and at the proper consistency.
Christopher Maxey blinked. Oh. The boy was paying attention again. This was- he didn't want to seem weird, or dig a hole for himself that he couldn't get out of. But she did look so familiar... what was it about her?
"I'm not sure..." he sounded awkward, shy, and took another sip of his drink to try and calm himself; it didn't really work. "She looks really familiar." He rubbed his own scar, which was feeling weird now that he was actually thinking about it.
"I'm not sure..." he sounded awkward, shy, and took another sip of his drink to try and calm himself; it didn't really work. "She looks really familiar." He rubbed his own scar, which was feeling weird now that he was actually thinking about it.
Christopher Maxey gulped down the rest of his drink before taking the card and looking at- was that- oh for the love of God! There was no way his luck was that- no, wait, who was he kidding. His luck was definitely that bad. Of course the place was on fire. What else?
With a hasty movement he jumped out of his stool and bailed out towards the door. "I'll call you!" He yelled over his shoulder, slamming his way out of the room before he could be lit on fire, because knowing his luck he most certainly would be.
With a hasty movement he jumped out of his stool and bailed out towards the door. "I'll call you!" He yelled over his shoulder, slamming his way out of the room before he could be lit on fire, because knowing his luck he most certainly would be.
Christopher Maxey walked into the room and had a long, hard think about walking straight back out again. It was already weird enough in here without him adding to it, but- he sighed and headed towards the bar. This was pretty much the best place for him these days, and it wasn't really so bad. Hell, he was normal around these people.
All the clocks stopped when he walked in, but he was past noticing that by this point in time; he'd been having one of those weeks where they'd been running backwards, so just stopping was actually a good sign.
All the clocks stopped when he walked in, but he was past noticing that by this point in time; he'd been having one of those weeks where they'd been running backwards, so just stopping was actually a good sign.