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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 · 2,308 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 ‘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 shifted a hand to press one long, thin finger to her lips and silence her. Of course she couldn't do it, he had known as much from the start, but there was always the possibility that he could teach her what to do. He cared little for the destruction of the so called Hither, but if Anja had set her mind to such a thing, and wanted to use seduction as her weapon... well, the chance for him to get what he wanted in the process was not something he was willing to turn down.

"Ssh," he barely made a sound, free hand lifted to cup the back of her head as his settled himself as close to her as he could manage in the awkward position they were currently in. "Let me show you what to do, let me make it so familiar and so right that you can do this. Let me, so you can do what you need to do to kill him."

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Dillon Maxey was hardly impressed by yet another cock-blocker moving in when he was clearly otherwise occupied. Did people not realise that he was busy damnit! He didn't pull back, but shot the man a dark look for a second before his attention returned to more pressing matters.

"Do you understand yet?" His voice was as quiet as ever, though there was a dark undertone there that had not been present before. "Are you beginning to see how and why you're going to be able to best him this way?"

She didn't know yet, not fully, and Max told her as much as he still refrained from closing the tiny space that separated her from everything she longed to discover. He had made himself the key to her salvation; if she truly wanted to fulfil what she assumed was her purpose in life then she would have to want this.

"I think you're starting to understand what this means."

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Dillon Maxey was so very, very tempted to take Anja's knife and show her how to gut a man in three cuts, leaving him splayed on the floor like some sick parody of a dissection. To say that he was angry at Sigmund's interruption and subsequent destruction of his interaction was an understatement and it was only Anja's hand on his hip that stopped him from turning around and eviscerating the man with about as much remorse as one would show when throwing away a used tissue.

However, her had was there and perhaps his hold over her was not completely lost...

"You can do this, you can do this, you just don't know why yet and it's holding you back," he breathed, his head against her ear as he took her hands in his own. He was planning to take things slow, but the arrival of yet another fucking cock-blocker drove him to accelerate his plans.

"Come with me."

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Dillon Maxey was growing increasingly irate for no apparent reason (the rest of the world was not aware of his lurking short temper). "Somewhere else," was all he would say as he wrapped his arms around Anja and vanished with her.

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Dillon Maxey wandered into the room in a hoody and tracksuit trousers, limping slightly but otherwise in good spirits; he had a lot planned for the upcoming day- or at least, he had a lot planned until he saw his most favourite person in all the world was right there when he walked through the door.

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Dillon Maxey tried very, very hard not to laugh as he wandered past, eyebrows up as far as they would go and a wickedly condescending little smirk spread across his face like the personification of some mocking joke gone awry. He didn't even spare his most special friend a glance, because it was obvious that he'd seen him.

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Dillon Maxey muttered to himself, sat on the bar counter with his feet on a stool. "Right," he snickered. "Shooting me is clearly you dealing with a rough patch. I wonder how you're going to deal with the first family argument; stuff her hand in a blender? Put the baby in the microwave?" He smirked a little at that image, being able to visualise it perfectly. He was, of course, speaking only to himself.

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Dillon Maxey hung beside the door in an innocuous daze with his eyes half closed and his arms folded across his chest. He seemed to be either drunk or excessively tired with his back propped against the wall and his head rested down onto his chest. It was difficult to tell which, if either, were true as he was completely unmoving and apparently unresponsive to the environment around him.

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Dillon Maxey was attracted by the glitter of gold; his eyes more focussed than his sedate appearance gave credit for. He appeared to be so lost in thought that he had no idea what was going on, but he was surprisingly aware of what was going on, just ignoring it.

He was, however, a stickler for little trinkets, especially watches and lighters, and as such the appearance of a shiny Rolex triggered his magpie mind and spurned him into action.

He straightened, pushed away from the wall and crossed the room; very much the charming gentleman in his mannerisms despite his earlier inactivity, his smart-casual dress adding to the illusion.

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Dillon Maxey didn't seem in the least surprised at her words, despite having no idea at all what she was talking about. She knew his name, that much was certain, but Max had a feeling that the person that she was looking for was not, in fact, him. However, he was an egotistical creature and as such her knowing him felt like personal praise; it tweaked at the shadows of thought lurking in his subconscious.

"That really depends who's asking now, doesn't it?" he asked with a smooth smile.

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Dillon Maxey observed her behaviour patterns closely, as he had been since he had caught sight of the watch that he wanted, drawing his own conclusions without seeming to spare her more than a passing glance.

"This place is disgusting, and criminal to a pair of good shoes, but the regulars are as unobservant as they are unwashed and wouldn't notice a nuclear bomb going off outside; they's simply sit and drink as though nothing was happening. Oblivious fools."

With a shake of his head, Max moved towards the door. "Come, we can leave."

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Dillon Maxey swept out of the room, but not before holding open the door so she could pass out ahead of him. He was looking to be the gentleman, after all, though at the present time his thoughts were anything but gentlemanly.

"The smell, unfortunately, does not come out," he told her, stepping out into the night and looking up to find a full moon. He smiled, teeth very white in his impossibly dark face, eyes glowing pink in the cool reflected sunlight. "But one learns to change his clothes and shower after visiting."

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Dillon Maxey didn't like to be rushed, and as such chose to take his time. He wanted that watch, and the more frustrated the woman was the easier she would be to distract and rob. Not that he saw it that way; the watch was rightfully his, in his opinion, and she was simply carrying it until he chose to claim it.

"I have rooms, if you're interested in showering before we get down to business?" he offered.

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Dillon Maxey wanted to stay, with every fibre of his being he wanted to stay and follow the thread of dark interest she had woken in him. It was her hands, the way she cleaned them so obsessively, that made him want to test that control... he wanted to see if she would break too...

He shook his head, once, and tried to focus, but for once in his strictly controlled life Max was unable to turn his mind to other things. Normally, he would pander to his own desires, but The Plan was in motion and if he broke his image now, with a girl asleep upstairs who believed him to be everything that he said he was and another who would hear of it... he had to leave.

"Wait here." his voice was a tense whisper, and he vanished without another word; his only victory being in the fact that she would probably wait long into the night for his non-existent return.

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Dillon Maxey appeared in the bar with a wisp of dark smoke, in a far better mood than the previous evening; he was smiling, the faintest trace of mocking in his eyes as he stepped towards the bar. He looked like a powerful man, and one that knew it, though the reality of the fact was rather different; his powers were as limited as any of his kind, but his own belief in his greatness lead him to look far more intimidating than he actually was.

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Dillon Maxey frowned as the babble of the bar was broken by a scream; was someone having fun without him? He hoped not: he was the only one allowed to have fun in the bar, and even then he chose to play out his fantasies elsewhere. With a mixture of ire and curiosity in mind, he went in search of the woman who had screamed, rapidly locating her under some man or other.

He was just about ready to leave the man to have his fun when he realised who, exactly, was being assaulted. Well, that wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all.

"Excuse me," he said to Jules Restlin, his voice level but disapproving. "But that's my woman."

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Dillon Maxey lifted a dark eyebrow at the man's smile, and breathed a little smoke of his own; if he wanted a pissing contest... He allowed the clearly inferior creature to touch him only because moving away was likely to be interpreted as some form of fear reaction, rather than the unwillingness to let himself be contaminated by lesser beings.

He watched as the man scratched the bar, wondering if he thought himself to be some sort of cat, or if he was simply showing off: pissing contest indeed. Max shook his head, not even angry at the decimation of his property in the face of such arrogant idiocy. He'd be able to find the man later and show him the true meaning of power, but not today.

He peered over the bar, examining the mess of dirt and flesh that had been a worthy project just last night, and sighed. "Are you dead?" he asked her.

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Dillon Maxey teleported behind the bar; he could have walked, or even jumped over, but this was a pissing contest even if the other man was no longer present. Max was better, he had been and would always be better, and he saw no reason to hide that fact from the world.

Without so much as a by your leave he gripped the woman by her collar, pulling her up; he was stronger than he looked but in no way monumentally physically powerful (he just liked to think that), but he was capable of keeping her upright when she was boneless and flopping on the floor. "No, no blankets here. You're coming with me, though; things to do."

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"Nothing doing, sweet-cheeks," Max drawled as he bodily hefted Elise up and positioned her over his shoulder. "I can't stand the smell of bleach and seeing as I'm your knight in shining armour right now you have to do as I say." He was grinning, very much enjoying playing the hero.

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Dillon Maxey rolled his eyes as his most favourite person in the world walked in; well, wasn't this fun. He moved towards the door, speaking to the woman draped across his back. "We're going to my place, and I'll give you a bloody good wash when we get there; that guy had a BO problem as well as ass-fluff on his face."