Mask or Menace - IC Inbox

[dreadinquisitor]

He's gotten better with his communicator - a part of him even likes it! He'll probably get back to you, if you leave him a message.

Conversely, do it the old fashioned way. He'll definitely get back to you.

Comments

[dreadinquisitor]

[It was a long enough pause that even Maxwell, a generally patient man, was about to agree, and offer his experiences with sleeplessness in sympathy. But he accepted the shift in direction again easily.]

No, I don't think so.

What did he do?

[flightforfreedom]

[Poe sighed.]

He killed a lot of people.

I hit him. On "national television". That's all. Just didn't want you thinking - well. Thinking the worst about me, I guess.

[He shrugged, and then the carpet began to turn, arcing toward the bar district down town, where the food trucks would still be open.]

Look, maybe let's just talk about something else. You making any friends here?

[dreadinquisitor]

[Maxwell looked at Poe steadily, one brow arching slightly.]

Even if he hadn't done those things, I wouldn't think the worst of you. You've been nothing but kind to me since we met. That isn't usually the action of the "worst" sort of people.

[A beat. A gentle smile.]

To also answer your question, if a bit presumptuously.

[flightforfreedom]

[He turned his head at that, the darkess having been pushed back, and offered a genuine, half amused smile.]

No presumption at all, buddy. [He turned back to look where he was flying.]

He's just getting under my skin, and he's doing it on purpose.

[dreadinquisitor]

[Maxwell leaned back on his hands, and crossed his legs at the ankles, an easy conversation - as they streaked through the dark, high in the hair, nothing to hold them but a flimsy carpet.]

Then it sounds like it was deserved. Tact is all well and good, but there are some who just aren't worth it.

[flightforfreedom]

[There is a long pause. Poe is not as relaxed as Maxwell, though it would be hard to tell from the outside. He holds all his tension in the pit of his stomach - an old trick from having to fly and needing to keep his shoulders from locking up.]

... He destroyed five planets. Before I came here. The entire Republic Fleet. Billions of people. And he was taunting me about it.

He deserves a hell of a lot more than a punch.

[dreadinquisitor]

[Maxwell's voice is gentle and slow. He looks out across the city as it rushes by under them.]

Some people aren't worth it.

[He holds up his left hand, turning it, the green of his mark flashing like sparks - did it look like stars from down below?]

I got this from what was left of a man known as Corypehus. He murdered the Divine, our most holy, in the midst of the peace talks she had called trying to stop the war that was ravaging my world. He killed her, hoping to ascend, to assault the Heavens and become a god to rule over us all.

[He looks at Poe, and closes his hand again.]

I know some people aren't worth it.