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.

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[dreadinquisitor]

A hand came up, as if for defense. "Dorian, don't--"

[flightforfreedom]

Oh.

He wasn't sure why the name cut threw him quite as badly as it did. After all, he'd never met Dorian. He'd only seen him in that fucked up horror house, breaking Maxwell's heart. Only talked to Maxwell about it, at length.

He wasn't entirely sure what it meant, that Maxwell had slipped, other than that he was having a different conversation than he thought he was. This wasn't really about him.

Or it was, and he was breaking more hearts than he thought.

"... I'm Poe, Maxwell." His voice was quiet.

[dreadinquisitor]

It was all so close, still undealt with, just under his skin. Pushing through his veins with every beat of his still aching heart.

He didn't mean to do it. Wasn't even aware that he had until Poe's reply made no sense.

He blinked, frowning. He took a breath to speak, and then realized, a blank expression crawling across his face and leaving a broken sadness in the wake of the anger. His hand, still out, dipped, fell, and hung empty at his side.

"Of course," he murmured, little more than a breath. "You just... you're alike. More than I knew."

[flightforfreedom]

He's pretty sure Dorian is an asshole, but then - he also feels like a complete asshole, so he can't even really argue the point.

"... If we are, then - I doubt he wanted to hurt you, either, Maxwell. I really doubt that was his intention."

[dreadinquisitor]

Maxwell looked at him for a moment, then shrugged, a small movement of disconnection.

More words, when it'd been proven again how little they could be trusted.

"Still did though."

[flightforfreedom]

"... Right."

He feels the door being shut, but can't bring himself to rise an argument to it.

Honestly, he tries to tell himself, it's better this way. One less person to worry about when he inevitably ends up dead.

It's for the best.

"... Right. Yeah. Sorry."

[dreadinquisitor]

"Me too."

Dorian wasn't here. There hadn't been time to try and ask him before, and now it was too late. Maybe if Poe could tell him, why he'd done it, he could understand Dorian and maybe, just maybe, let at least some small part of him go.

But there was no answer. None that helped.

"Me too."