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Dillon Maxey

A mutant from birth, it rapidly became apparent that he was never going to receive the same opportunities as those who classed themselves as normal. In time, he learned to make his own.

0 · 2,305 views · located in Canti's Diner

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by AugmentationAudit

Description

Image

Tending to appear in many forms depending on how he chooses to disguise himself, though, when he is going without costume, he tends to take on one of two distinct forms.

Image

More human, though still clearly mutant with very dark skin that gives way to an odd harlequin-pattern in red, the marks are located specifically around the eyes and are clearly visible on other parts of his body when he chooses to show them. His eyes are very dark, but his pupils show red in direct light; he wears contact lenses to facilitate this appearance and hides the real colour of his eyes.

Unnaturally slender and frail, he appears stretched and spidery in his less common appearance; he does not take on this look by choice, more by overextension, and although he often looks stronger and far more mutant in this form, and will certainly say that this is the case, it is in fact a sign of him weakening through overuse of his teleportation, rather than some interesting new form. It is simply damage to his body.

His skin becomes red when all of the diamonds join up, secondary diamonds opening like lesions around his eyes and spreading as the condition becomes more severe. His eyes appear to be very red, though this is more because of subconjunctival hemorrhaging than any intimidating power.

Image

Personality

Mischievous to a fault, he seems to almost completely lack empathy for those unlike himself. In the mutant world, he has shown himself to be naughty, though not actively malicious, though the same cannot be said for his activities around humans. Tired of being classed as different, substandard, he has no compassion for anybody that he classes as better off than he is: humans.
Possibly a kleptomaniac, though his desire to rampant theft could be a continuation of his want for balance between his own situation and the human condition; he classes them to be privileged over himself and seeks to even things up by stealing from them.
He is not chronically aggressive around humans, though those who are arrogant or scathing by nature should beware, as should those who choose to tell him what he can and cannot do, no matter the species. He is rarely hostile towards aggressors, but will torment them mercilessly; sometimes causing physical harm.
He is almost certainly a sociopath.

Profile of a sociopath: (edited from: http://www.mcafee.cc/Bin/sb.html)

  • Glibness and Superficial Charm: He never seems to stutter or be ill at ease, perfectly comfortable when it comes to communication. He does appear to be charming, though he tends to use his charm to get what he wants and feels like he deserves.
  • Manipulative and Conning: They never recognize the rights of others and see their self-serving behaviours as permissible. They appear to be charming, yet are covertly hostile and domineering, seeing their victim as merely an instrument to be used. They may dominate and humiliate their victims. -he likes to ā€˜convinceā€™ people to do his bidding. Heā€™s certainly not above blackmail if the mood suits him. He has some knowledge of the rights of others, but disregards it as irrelevant.
  • Grandiose Sense of Self: He certainly has a highly overinflated ego when he deems to show it, and classes himself as no less than the most important person in existence. His intelligence and skill knows no bounds, as far as heā€™s concerned.
  • Feels entitled to certain things as "their right." ā€“he will take whatever he wants, and has no sense of guilt in doing so, as he believes he deserves to receive anything taken and holds anyone who refuses to give him what he knows should be his in contempt.
  • Pathological Lying : Has no problem lying coolly and easily and it is almost impossible for them to be truthful on a consistent basis. Can create, and get caught up in, a complex belief about their own powers and abilities. Extremely convincing and even able to pass lie detector tests.
  • Lack of Remorse, Shame or Guilt .
  • A deep seated rage, which is split off and repressed, is at their core. Does not see others around them as people, but only as targets and opportunities. Instead of friends, they have victims and accomplices who end up as victims. The end always justifies the means and they let nothing stand in their way.
  • Shallow Emotions: When they show what seems to be warmth, joy, love and compassion it is more feigned than experienced and serves an ulterior motive. Outraged by insignificant matters, yet remaining unmoved and cold by what would upset a normal person. Since they are not genuine, neither are their promises.
  • Incapacity for Love: In his case, the high-functioning nature of his condition allows him to feign love as he feigns the depth of his emotion.
  • Need for Stimulation : When left to his own devices and allowed to grow bored he tends to seek out new ways to entertain himself; usually at the cost of those around him.
  • Living on the edge. Verbal outbursts and physical punishments are normal. Promiscuity and gambling are common. ā€“he doesnā€™t tend to gamble, but when pushed he has been known to be loud and physically aggressive. It takes some effort on the part of the antagoniser to get such a reaction.
  • Callousness/Lack of Empathy: Unable to empathize with the pain of their victims, having only contempt for others' feelings of distress and readily taking advantage of them.
  • Poor Behavioural Controls/Impulsive Nature: Rage and abuse, alternating with small expressions of love and approval produce an addictive cycle for abuser and abused, as well as creating hopelessness in the victim. Believe they are all-powerful, all-knowing, entitled to every wish, no sense of personal boundaries, and no concern for their impact on others.
  • Early Behaviour Problems/Juvenile Delinquency: Usually has a history of behavioural and academic difficulties, yet "gets by" by conning others. Problems in making and keeping friends; aberrant behaviours such as cruelty to people or animals, stealing, etc. ā€“it is unclear if this is the case, as very little is honestly known about his younger life.
  • Irresponsibility/Unreliability: Not concerned about wrecking others' lives and dreams. Oblivious or indifferent to the devastation they cause. Does not accept blame themselves, but blames others, even for acts they obviously committed.
  • Promiscuous Sexual Behaviour/Infidelity: Promiscuity, child sexual abuse, rape and sexual acting out of all sorts. ā€“he has yet to turn any of his attentions onto children, having little interest in them one way or the other at the present. He is, however, sexually promiscuous and doesnā€™t like to be told know. He has been known to believe that sex is his right if he wants it, regardless of his partnerā€™s desires.
  • Lack of Realistic Life Plan/Parasitic Lifestyle: Tends to move around a lot or makes all encompassing promises for the future, poor work ethic but exploits others effectively.
  • Criminal or Entrepreneurial Versatility: Changes their image as needed to avoid prosecution. Changes life story readily. ā€“his life story is rarely the same twice, and his image changes frequently, though he finds it hard to disguise his the fact that he is carrying the mutated X chromosome.

Equipment

Genetically suited towards teleportation:
This can be triggered manually over a limited distance, and it is possible for him to teleport inside locked buildings if he has at least some idea of the layout inside. It is unclear if he can teleport inside a wall or partially through an object by mistake.
Percussive force to his person or penetrating injury has been known to automatically trigger a teleport, though he never escapes completely unharmed from subconscious space-jump. If he has time to consciously initiate the move it is near-impossible to harm him unless the exact nature of his weakness is discovered.
It is possible to stop him, even when teleporting to avoid detection/attack, but the method of doing so requires trial and error. He knows his own weaknesses, but does not divulge them.

History

Generally difficult to determine, as any facts given by Max himself should be discounted as partial or often total untruth.
He spent some time with therapists and mental health specialists, and draws on their explanations and techniques in his own endeavours from time to time.
He has watched a great deal of medically-based television, documentaries on psychology, etc.
He spends a great deal of time people-watching.
He studied psychology, though his grade and learning method are unknown.
Most of his pastimes and past occupations have been for the sake of furthering his skills in emulation of emotion and normal social behaviour. He prides himself in his ability to appear normal and has extensively studied human emotional and psychosocial dynamics to make himself believable.

So begins...

Dillon Maxey's Story

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Dillon Maxey could see the lines of tension in the womanā€™s back, and despite not knowing her personally, he had been watching for long enough to get a picture of what he was playing with; she was angry, that much was certain. She might have been scared, he mused (he consciously refrained from licking his lips at the thought; Kendra being there to watch made it oh, so wonderful), and really, he couldnā€™t have that. He couldnā€™t have a maybe hanging over his head.

With that in mind, he lowered his head a fraction, meeting Kendraā€™s eyes with a perfectly benign smile that said ā€˜just playing, really!ā€™, and hummed into Hopeā€™s ear. ā€œThereā€™s no need to worry; Iā€™m not going to bite you.ā€ He wasnā€™t going to back off though, not when being so close got him so many delicious reactions, and especially not when he could see Kendraā€™s reactions so well from where he was standing.

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Well, somebody had no idea how things were run around here, clearly, because Max didnā€™t appreciate other peopleā€™s elbows on his person in the slightest, and if Kendra hadnā€™t been sitting right there... oh, this one was a tease. Max did ever so enjoy a tease, especially when they were obviously chronically stupid. Poor love, she didnā€™t realise the danger she was in. He backed up a step, rubbing his side; not very clever at all, that one, and sheā€™d be paying for that stupidity all night long if she wasnā€™t careful.

He realised the usefulness of Hopeā€™s dangerous gesture a second later when he happened to notice a man taking interest in their conversation; boots, scowl, guns... small penis. Poor bloke. Max actually put aside his typical feelings of distaste towards men, at least for the moment, because this poor sod couldnā€™t even really be called a MAN in his opinion. Shame, really, but an interesting one; heā€™d have to keep an eye on that particular observer.

But for the moment, he was far more interested in Hope and Kendra, who seemed to be getting on quite well... Kendra clearly didnā€™t smell a rat quite as strongly as Max did. He didnā€™t speak for a moment, choosing instead to watch Kendra quietly.

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Dillon Maxey turned quite deliberately and looked at his latest follower as he slipped into his seat, but in a manner that would only look deliberate from Stephā€™s side of the room. Hope would probably know, but only because she was clearly looking as well. Ooh, drama; Max did love a good spat.

However, this man wasnā€™t Horatio, and as such was an unpredictable, faintly unwanted intrusion into the natural balance of things. Max would keep an eye on him, and if it became apparent that he wasnā€™t going to leave... he would leave, Max decided with a smile.

ā€œOh, donā€™t think anything of it,ā€ he said with honest-sounding good humour, turning his eyes away from Hope (and the man over her shoulder), to grin at Kendra instead. ā€œYou say that now, but when Demon chooses three in the morning as a good time to start his day...ā€

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Oh dear, someone was having a tantrum, one worthy of Maxā€™s infant son at that. He very nearly laughed as the woman stormed off like an overgrown child (Max knew storming off when he saw it, no matter what excuse she decided to make), but he managed to restrain himself once again. It wouldnā€™t do to make Kendra cross with him so late in the day; he didnā€™t actually want to spend the night on the sofa.

And the other one was leaving too? Fantastic! Just what he- what had that man done? Max narrowed his eyes just a fraction as Kendraā€™s phone buzzed. Heā€™d seen the man with no penis texting a moment ago, and now Kendraā€™s phone was buzzing and Kendra herself was looking upset. ā€˜That was Hope.ā€™ Max read at a glance just as she hit send, pretending to look away afterwards. ā€œWell, that was odd,ā€ he said.

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If Kendra thought she was hiding her thoughts from him then she was sadly mistaken, but Max wasnā€™t about to call her on it. Yet. He would find that girl though, and when he found her... oh, it was going to be fantastic fun. Quick, neat, and never pinned on him, but that didnā€™t matter. Heā€™d gone to ridiculous lengths to make this family how he wanted it, and to have some floosy from the backside of nowhere strutting in, wrecking it and storming off again... Max was angry.

But he smiled; he hid it, because this particular slight was private. ā€œSure thing, though stop worrying about Old Ho; just because he pretends to be a cripple half the time...ā€ He tutted, grinning. ā€œApparently thatā€™s what AIDs does to you. But heā€™s fine, he likes it, and youā€™ll probably find him eating the contents of our fridge or something.ā€

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Dillon Maxey allowed himself to be lead towards the door without complaint, grinning all the while. He was still planning something particularly nasty for Hope, but that was not something that he was willing to have bleed into his life with Kendra. "Aww, come on, you know Ho likes it! He wouldn't know what to do if I came up to him all sweet and nice. He'd probably die."

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Main Street 1

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Dillon Maxey chuckled very softy as he stepped out into the room, a smile on his face, arms tucked neatly behind his back. The smile morphed into a friendly grin as his eyes fell on Steph. "Aww, boo; game's up," he trilled, rocking a little on the balls of his feet. He was dressed neatly, but casually; hoodie and jeans, shiny black shoes, all of them just a little too big. Harmless, smiling, really quite friendly to look at.

"Did I breathe to loudly?"

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Dillon Maxey only grinned that little bit wider, rocking forwards on the balls of his feet and then letting himself fall back onto the heels. His arms swung out at the precise center of his movement, coming forwards to clap sharply at his front. He laughed, quietly, just a little amused. He reached up to touch the back of his neck, grin reaching near-alarming proportions.

"Oooh, tingly. What's that then?"

Pink eyes glittered with something like humor as he repeated his little rocking movement in reverse, tucking his arms behind again. "Hello Kendra." His voice didn't chill, his smile didn't slip. "And hello Steph! Not that we really need an introduction seeing as I've been bugging you for so long."

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Dillon Maxey paused when Kendra spoke. Oh, pretty little Kendra, beautiful Kendra. He smiled, wide and suddenly not so pleasant anymore. Bitch. He turned to her for a moment, eyes on her, only for her. He smiled, but then his expression shut down. He wasn't playing this game with her, not now, not anymore, not ever. He turned away.

"No, Kendra, I don't think anyone is going anywhere, actually, because I've not finished talking. I think I told you how I felt about not being able to finish talking, didn't I? I hope you remember, because I donā€™t really like repeating myself either. "

Still, but not smiling; turning to face Steph was a single, very precise twist on his left foot. "Hello again. " Smile; just enough to flash teeth. "Enjoying her, were you? Hmm, I bet youā€™re thinking about those guns of yours right now, arenā€™t you, Steph? I bet youā€™re thinking about shooting me and having done with it, " One step forwards, also precise; in Stephā€™s space now. Lean down. "Because youā€™ve never really liked me, have you. Steph. "

His tongue flicked out to wet thin, black lips. "You can win, canā€™t you. You can use that magic of yours, that magic that makes you so much better than me. "He laughed, not amused, not amused at all. "Because you know HER from before, all about her, probably. Definitely, because youā€™re already here. Sheā€™s giving you little gifts, guns, while Iā€™m away. She says she doesnā€™t make weapons, but she does now, for you."

Max leaned in a fraction further. "Just for you, ay, Steph? Does it turn you on, to have her come on to you in my house, while Iā€™m away. I bet you want to spread her out and do her while my sonā€™s watching. While Iā€™m watching. Because you can feel me there, canā€™t you. Steph. " Grin, dangerous now.

"Come on then, big man; prove how much better than me you are."

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Dillon Maxey didnā€™t turn around from where the other man had vanished. Didnā€™t blink. Didnā€™t breathe. There were no words to explain how he was feeling; ā€˜angryā€™ was a drop in the ocean compared to the overwhelming feeling of fury that was welling up, pushing at his skin, behind his eyes, twisting his face into a rectus grin. He had vanished. Teleported away. Just like Max would have. Just- like he would have. Just like him.

And suddenly it was all falling away; the anger, the indescribable feeling, all those complicated little ideas that had made up plan after plan after plan. Quiet, calm, simple. He drew in a deep breath (it felt nice to breathe) and turned with a relaxed, easy grace to lift Archie from the side. He read the message. He smiled. And then he threw the device so hard that it smashed straight through the window and away. Chasing smoke rings, reaching for the s tars.

ā€œIā€™m leaving.ā€ He didnā€™t so much as look Kendra in the eye as he walked towards the bedroom.

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Dillon Maxey didnā€™t turn around, but he paused at the bedroom door, smiling at the featureless wood. ā€œHe wants the specs, Kendra, so you had better send them to him. Donā€™t want him to get impatient. But no! Wait! Iā€™m the fucking bad guy here. As fucking always. Clearly Iā€™m the weak, pathetic, powerless one, that he can waltz into my life like that! Because he already KNOWS you! Heā€™s your dear friend, the one you break your word and make guns for. How do I ever stand a fucking chance against THAT?!ā€

He laughed; soft, bitter and just on the edge of hysteria. ā€œBecause Iā€™m so small, and so weak, arenā€™t I Kendra? You, and everything youā€™ve forgotten from this fantastic other life that Iā€™m too SMALL to understand. I bet they all thought it was funny, pathetic little Dillon trying to be a big boy, when they can feel his every move, control his thoughts, say that thereā€™s something wrong with him whenever they please. Because of course, thereā€™s a whole other world out there thatā€™s just BIGGER and BETTER than this one, and everyone can teleport these days! Itā€™s not like Iā€™m special. And they can do it with all of the benefits and none of the costs.ā€

He turned then, the edge of something wild and dangerous, something painful, written all across his face. ā€œI bet you can do it too. You all can! Feeling me when I donā€™t want to be felt, seeing me when I donā€™t want to be seen! Oh, such a lovely little delusion I had going, but Iā€™m NOTHING, arenā€™t I Kendra?!ā€

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/me wanted nothing more in that moment than to curl up, put his arms over his head, stop up his ears, close his eyes and scream so loudly that the entire situation would go away. But he couldnā€™t do that, no matter how much his body tried to make it so. He wasnā€™t that person anymore (refused to even remember being that person; he wasnā€™t weak, he was a dangerous psychopath). He was a killer: that was a fact. He was a rapist: that was a fact too. Serial rapist; he liked it, liked causing pain. He was a bad fucking person! And bad fucking people didnā€™t feel pain. Incapable of loving; he didnā€™t have feelings to hurt.

Psychopath, he told himself. Still have feelings, said his PhD.

ā€œWhat am I supposed to think, when I come in here to find him sitting on my sofa?ā€ he whispered, a whole lot of something making his voice edged. ā€œHim, who I saw in the fucking bar the other day, stalking us, who very clearly doesnā€™t like me! Hanging around with your ex-wife, of course, because why fucking NOT?!ā€ He was forgetting to breathe, but that didnā€™t matter; he could hold his breath for a very long time. ā€œHe comes over here, your old friend, with his guns, in my house, with my SON! And I just happen to come home and see him there!ā€

A laugh made him draw breath; it hurt. ā€œBut no, I think, this is Kendra; men are all shit, but Kendraā€™s not. So I wait outside, just watching because heā€™s got a fucking GUN near my fucking KID and youā€™re apparently okay with that, and what do I see? Well. Thatā€™s the interesting thing, isnā€™t it?ā€

-c-

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Maxā€™s smile was not pleasant, but there was none of the hatred that there had been before in his expression. He looked tired, miserable and very confused. ā€œYour fucking hand on his fucking LEG and looking at MY fucking BED! What the hell am I supposed to fucking thing?! But no! I still donā€™t say anything! Because youā€™re not doing anything other than smiling at him and giving him presents, and you could be doing that for anyone... Because, like you said, youā€™re you.ā€

Eyes closing, he turned away again. ā€œBut then he just HAD to bring me in. I donā€™t like men like that, Kendra. I donā€™t like men like that at all. So there I was, all ready to throw him out on his fucking ear like he deserves, and he decides that powerplay is the right fucking idea instead!ā€ His laugh became very bitter very fast. ā€œBut the second I play along with that? He runs the FUCK away and just has to prove heā€™s fucking BETTER than me at MY THING in the fucking process!ā€


-e-

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No matter what she said, there was no hiding that smile when she said his name. No matter what she said she hadnā€™t done, she had still smiled that very specific smile. Max was smiling. He was smiling even as his entire- everything! ā€“fell apart. He could feel it happening, everything spiralling out of control in a way that it hadnā€™t for years. A feeling that he hadnā€™t felt since heā€™d realised that there was one thing in all the world that he could do, that he was best at; his own personal talisman against everything. ...gone...

In any other situation, he would have teleported away, but he couldnā€™t. Just couldnā€™t. There was no way out. If he made the leap he was proving that he was second best; that he was only doing what Steph had already done. If he walked away, he was proving that he was weaker. There was nothing he could do, there was no way out, and the pressure building under his skin was so intense that it made him want to scream to be rid of it. So much pressure; something had to break, and it was going to be him despite how much he wanted it to be somebody else.

Hands closed into fists so tight that his nails broke through his skin; he shook, but he wouldnā€™t teleport. He wouldnā€™t. Just wouldnā€™t do it. It was like skinning himself alive, resisting the subconscious reaction to the pain, but he could undo it. It hurt, but he could make himself stay when he knew the pain was coming. Mind over matter! He laughed, completely hysterically.

ā€œApparently Iā€™m not-ā€ Sharp movement: snap: his fist went straight into the wall beside him. ā€œFUCKIGN SPECIAL!ā€ And then the laughter was back; he had shattered his hand, not the wall, which told him everything he had ever needed to know.

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His hand was broken. Ruined. Misshapen and already starting to swell. He couldnā€™t feel it, but he didnā€™t want her to touch it. He wasnā€™t sure why she was there, in his space, when she should have been on the other side of the room. It didnā€™t hurt, but he didnā€™t want to look at it. Morbid, but not that morbidly curious when it came to his own destruction. It didnā€™t hurt. But he couldnā€™t stop her touching it. She was supposed to be... not where she was. She was supposed to be cowering, or shouting, or calling for all those lovely little people that he didnā€™t want to see.

...he had no idea what to do when she was in his space, when she was touching...

He stared, eyes wide and blank. This- he didnā€™t know what to do. It didnā€™t hurt. He didnā€™t want her there but he couldnā€™t think of how to make her just- not be there! This wasnā€™t how this happened. It didnā€™t hurt (did it?). He wasnā€™t morbidly curious about his own destruction (only hers, only othersā€™). His hand was... it wasnā€™t there. It didnā€™t hurt. She was touching... nothing. It wasnā€™t there if it didnā€™t hurt and if it didnā€™t hurt then he didnā€™t know what to do.

He kept on staring. He couldnā€™t work it out; why was she there and not gone? Why was any of this- none of it made any sense, probably because it didnā€™t hurt? He didnā€™t blink. He didnā€™t speak. It was impossible to tell if heā€™d heard her at all.

The setting changes from Main Street 1 to Gambit's Bar

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Dillon Maxey appeared with an arm draped around Kazen's shoulder, dark lips scant inches from his ear. There was a smile on his face and a chuckle already bubbling in his chest as he whispered, with a tone close to endearment, so that only Kazen himself could hear. "I've heard you've been saying nasty things about me, Kaaa-zen," he purred.

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Dillon Maxey giggled under his breath at Kazen's less than friendly comments, blowing in his ear. "Are you going to put your tiny prick in my ear, baby?" he cooed, tempted to lick Kazen's ear, but he refrained for the sake of avoiding disease. "Then again, that's about all you could manage. I know size isn't everything, but..."

Max lowered his voice, raising a hand and holding two fingers a centimeter apart. "Well, sometimes it's a matter of reach, if you know what I mean."

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Dillon Maxey very carefully moved his head to Kazen's other shoulder when a hand tried to come at his face; Max didn't want Kazen's fingers anywhere near him, didn't want to touch him at all, but some small discomfort was worth this. He'd wanted this for so, so long. "You fucked her first, but then I stole her away, didn't I? And no matter what you might say, she came willingly." He sniggered at his little pun, eyes narrowing in delight. "And I have a little secret to tell you, about you fucking Anja: not only did I have her first, I was watching."

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Dillon Maxey grinned, quite content with this game. He was winning, and he really had been waiting such a very long time. "Am I? That must mean that I'm the one that's all alone, running home to Mummy now that there's nothing left for me. And don't flatter yourself; I don't get off to thoughts of you shagging emotionally buggered little girls." He pressed a kiss to Kazen's ear, slipping backwards off of his shoulder. "I might get off on the idea of skinning you alive, but I could so easily be lying. Like you've always said; I'm not a very nice person, but you'll spend the rest of your life guessing how not nice I am."

He grinned. "Assumption is such a lovely thing, and so dangerous; it makes me smile, to think that you'll never know. Have fun guessing, Kazen, while you run away back to whatever hole spawned you."

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Dillon Maxey twitched his dark lips up into a twisted parody of a smile, setting one hand on Kazen's shoulder. "Is that so? Finally abandoned all that talk of love then, have we? It took you long enough. All those silly little lies about this woman and that woman, such a big heart you said you had... but that didn't stop you from hurting them, did it? It wasn't me that drove them away from you, my love."

He used his hand, trailing around Kazen to face him. He was smiling now, a true, honest smile. "It was all you. Everything was you, from the start to the end of it all, this entire sorry situation, was all for you." He chuckled. "I should be grateful; you made this all possible, after all."

He leaned in for a brief, Judas' kiss, eyes glittering. "If you hadn't have been such a child, you would have had everything that you've ever dreamed of."