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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 · 2,253 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.

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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 ‘convince’ people to do his bidding. He’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 he’s concerned.
  • Feels entitled to certain things as "their right." –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. –he doesn’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. –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. –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 doesn’t like to be told know. He has been known to believe that sex is his right if he wants it, regardless of his partner’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. –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 noted how anxious she appeared to be with nothing short of interest, and wondered what it was that she had to hide. Maybe she was just shy...

"Hey, I'm not going to bite you, y'know," he hummed, still sat sedately at the bar.

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Dillon Maxey nodded as he stood and shifted so that he was a little closer to her side; close enough to touch her if he so desired. He smiled at her offer of a drink, because that was one of the things he wanted... he was sure that she could provide the other given a little time.

"I would like a drink, actually, thank you so much for offering. And there's nothing wrong with the way that you speak or act, I find you rather charming."

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Dillon Maxey saw the bracelet on her wrist and wanted it almost at once, though taking it would take more than a little time and effort, given how jumpy she was. He smiled again as he answered her.

"I really don't mind. How about you choose for me? And I don't think there's anything wrong at all, so maybe you just haven't spoken to the right people just yet. Maybe you've been waiting for someone like me to talk to you all this time?"

He was a charming individual, that much was certain, his voice smooth and confident, his movements smooth; easy.

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Dillon Maxey was a little unsettled at all the attention his would-be conquest was receiving, and honestly felt a little put-off. His attention span was short, his focus wandering; it had been far too long since he'd last had a smoke, and he was feeling it keenly.

"I think you're nice, I really do. You're a good person, I'm sure." He wasn't actually sure what he was saying.

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Dillon Maxey was already planning on following her once he had scooped up his drink, but even if he hadn't the packet of cigarettes appearing as if by magic on her table would have drawn him over to her like a magnet. He snatched up his drink, drained it in one long swallow, and claimed a seat at her table.

"Oh I do, I really do. I like you, and I'd love to get to know you. Can I have one?" He gestured towards her cigarettes, his (stolen) lighter already in hand.

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Dillon Maxey wanted quite a lot from her, actually, but he knew better than to just ask. Sometimes, people said 'just ask' but when he asked they said no, and he really didn't like to be told no. He didn't really like giving out his name, either, but sometimes it just had to be done. He didn't want her to lose interest in him, after all.

"Max," he said with a charismatic grin. "And I'm not trying to be nice to you just because. I think you're pretty, and you're nice; you've given me a drink and a fag and everything. That's awesome."

He lit the cigarette with an easy motion then hid the lighter away again.

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Dillon Maxey was suitably flattered that someone appreciated how good his name was without needing to be told and smiled as a result. He shook his head and looked rather sympathetic when she mentioned quitting, not that he actually had any sympathy; it was beyond his understanding.

"That's why I don't bother; I'd never manage it." Nor would he try, if he was being totally honest with himself. He had little to no will power when it came to resisting the things that he wanted. "And I'm here because I'm lonely..." he seemed sad. "I mean- I look really different, and nobody really likes me."

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Dillon Maxey was a very convincing actor; it was as if he believed his own lies more often than not. He stuck close to her, but still managed to maintain a little of the anxious distance he was looking for, as if he was worried that she would reject him should he cross that last little bit of space.

"You do? Really? I get so lonely sometimes, because nobody really wants to talk to me. It's because of how I look, and what they think it means. I'd like to get to know you, okay? We can- I dunno... make friends or something. Would you like another drink?"

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Dillon Maxey watched her with a keen interest, though she wasn't to know that he saw so much sense in Hitler's plan when it came to such things. He was the evolution of humanity, the race had bettered itself into people like him, leaving the others behind to rot in the dust or be stepped over by the rapidly growing homo-superior. He didn't want her to reproduce copies of her Aryan self, he wanted her to carry copies of him- Max- the better man, inside her.

"No, no, I want to hear it. I like to listen to you speak." It stroked his ego, in it's own strange way.

He vanished for but a second before returning with a bottle in his hand, having lost the dwindling butt of his cigarette somewhere along the way. "Here," he poured a generous measure into both of their glasses.

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Dillon Maxey topped her glass up and drank a little from his own as he did so; he wasn't intending to get as drunk as he was going to get her, but he didn't want her to think that he wasn't drinking. He helped himself to another cigarette.

"I know what you mean, but nobody else really understands." If he really put his mind to it, he could have understood her, like as not, but he was too interested in getting what he wanted from her to give her that particular gratification. "Keep talking? I love the sound of your voice."

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Dillon Maxey was tempted to teach her all about hate, but that would ruin his plans, so he abstained. He topped up her glass yet again though he did make sure not to give her too much; he wanted her conscious for later and it would be no fun at all if she passed out on him.

"We understand each other, that's all that matters." There was more, of course, but she didn't have to know that. "You're a good person; so understanding."

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He reaction pleased him, and the idea that she thought him beautiful worked in her favour because that's exactly how he saw himself. He was, in his own overinflated opinion, the single most beautiful and important creature in the universe, and the idea that she understood that also made him certain that she was one of his chosen few.

"Thank you," Max said, flashing her a smile. "It's not very often that someone says that to me. And yes, to friendship." He took a drink.

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Dillon Maxey would answer that question a different way each time that he was asked, for he was a creature of shallow ambition. But at the present he was actually honest as he answered her.

"I would make love to a beautiful woman," he whispered, and looked to her with faintly uncertain eyes; as if he was unsure that his honesty would be well received.

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Dillon Maxey reached out with a long, spidery hand and touched her cheek with just the tip of one finger. "I think you deserve to be lucky, after all, you seem so lonely." He smiled gently, eyes alight with desire. "And I don't think it's strange that you want to go to Poland; you should go when you get the chance."

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Dillon Maxey wasn't about to stop, not when he was so close to success; once he had her in his arms he knew that she would not escape him, one way or the other. He always tried to have them say yes because it was better for him when they did, but if they said no he wouldn't stop; he didn't like no.

"You're lonely, and so beautiful," he continued to whisper, his hands cupped around her face in a gentle caress, dark skin upon light. "Let me banish that loneliness with my understanding."

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Dillon Maxey shook his head, vehement, honest and meeting her eyes with his own. "I know what I want, and what I deserve, and if I say I want this I do." He looked her up and down with hungry eyes. "This is what I want, not because you're beautiful, even though you are, but because you understand me. You're bright and different and wonderful and I want that."

He didn't let her go. "Come home with me."

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Dillon Maxey slid his hands all the way down until his fingers were twined around her own and all the while his smile remained. He knew how to push her buttons -people's buttons- and it made him feel powerful, if he really thought about it, though he rarely did.

"Of course. We'll go for a walk, look at the stars, and then go back to my place, but only if you want to, okay?" He knew how to talk as if there was no pressure, he'd put a great deal of effort into his studies, but in all honesty there was a great deal of pressure; it was simply disguised.

"We'll see how this goes. Oh, and I really do mean it: I think you're wonderful."

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Dillon Maxey allowed her touch, so close to worship, because he saw it as exactly that, and when she stumbled he put his arm around her carefully, guiding her toward the door. "I think I'm a little bit drunk too," he whispered, as if it was a secret for them and them alone. "But that's okay."

He took her hand again, and brought their fingers up to show her the pattern of dark and light. "This is symbolic. You and I, hand in hand, dark, light, different but united by desire; if we come together, you and I..."

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Max, for once in his life, didn't actually lie. "Did I plan to come into this bar, and rather than be alone, ignored, or shot at-" he rubbed his chest, still sore from an earlier incident. "Did I imagine that rather than being alone I would meet a woman as intelligent and interesting as she was beautiful who had such compassion and understanding for one such as myself?"

He shook his head. "How could I plan such a thing?"

Just because he didn't lie, didn't mean he had to tell the actual truth.

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Dillon Maxey popped up at the bar with a bottle in his hand an a look of extreme ire on his face, though it lasted for only a moment before being replaced with a smile that was as honest as Max himself; that is to say, not at all. He had found himself unwell and as such had been unable to entertain himself for several days or possibly several weeks (he was never one for keeping time when he was sick, especially when he was sick enough to take to his bed and not leave the house for days).

He was out of touch with the scene and he hated it, just as he hated the ache in his head and the unsettled queasiness of his stomach. He didn't know if he wanted to throw up or get so drunk he could barely see, all he knew was that he couldn't stand another second in his house doing nothing.

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