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]

[A small laugh, little more than an exhale through his nose, but still with actual humor.]

As it's Poe's house, and he's really just grasped that the bag needs to go into the cup.... [He slants a smile at Archie.] Sorry. Do you regret coming yet?

[h2no]

Ugh. Ugh! UUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhno I can work with that. Point me to the cabinet with pots and the one with mugs. Or the single one if they're in the same area.

[he groans again, childishly, over the top.]

UghhhhhhhhhPoeeee why'd you be like this!!

[dreadinquisitor]

From a world where they can fly among the stars but don't appreciate a cup of finely crafted tea. The heathens.

[Maxwell teases, finding a chair to sink in. Close enough to watch and hold conversation, but out from underfoot where he'd be more of a hindrance than anything.]

There. The left one, I think.

[Admittedly, his coherent hours recently hadn't really been spent memorizing the kitchen layout.]

[h2no]

Horrible. I'm getting him a kettle for Christmas.

[he rummages around, pulling out what he needs and pads over to the sink to fill it up. exciting.]

What happened to ya? Nanites bugger up old wounds, or somethin'?

[dreadinquisitor]

[Maxwell snorts gently, another not quite laugh, and turns his wrist. The Anchor flashes brightly.]

The interdimensial gift that keeps on giving. It was either very upset that the Porter was offline, or very pleased... [A small frown, a vee momentarily pulling downward between his eyebrows, before he shrugs it away.] I haven't quite decided yet.

[h2no]

[he stops what he's doing for a moment, Peeping That Anchor.]

Huh. Did you get it from the Porter?

[dreadinquisitor]

No. [He shakes his head.] It's from my world. A bit of ancient and arcane magic.

[He gestures with it, a small movement, before it lowers again.]

A long story.

[h2no]

[he can't help but look down at his own hand for a moment. sometimes, on bad days, he can almost feel the orb still. maybe he should've had the sigil burned into his hand, too. as a reminder.

archie shakes his head, dispelling the thoughts.]

Ain't that always the way with magic? [he puts the pan on the stove to boil the water.] Ancient, confusing and oft-times stupid as fuck.

[dreadinquisitor]

[A chuckle, a hint of the handsome laugh he was capable of on better days.]

And never a manual to go with. [Then a bit of a grin.] It's almost like it's not supposed to be trifled with or something.

[h2no]

You'd think they'd realise if they just told you the shit you're going to get into instead of leaving some stupid riddle, maybe people would avoid it more.

[he shakes his head. archie hates whoever "they" are.]

[dreadinquisitor]

Or be more secretive with their dark, ancient rituals. [Maxwell makes a "pfft" sound and shakes his head. Those people..] They wonder why things keep getting blown up all the time.

[His laugh fades gently, and he looks at Archie.]

So, what's your story, then? Clearly I'm not the only one that's had their fair share of phenomenal cosmic power wrangling.

[h2no]

Same as most people's.

[he crosses his arms, leaning against the surface next to the stove while the water comes to a boil.]

Fucked with powers I thought I understood, didn't, almost ended the world.

[dreadinquisitor]

[Maxwell sits quietly, listening. He waits for Archie to go on, then asks gently.]

What happened?

[h2no]

I got another chance, surprisingly. By the person who stopped me.

[he shrugs.]

I was trying to save the world, not end it. I guess I have that going for me, even if it didn't actually need saving.

[dreadinquisitor]

You do. [He nods, honestly meaning it. Maxwell has seen enough, done enough, to know that details are important. The reasons, as much as the actions.

He holds up The Anchor again.]

I got this from the monster that was trying to end mine. Purposely, so that he could rule whatever ashes remained.

[h2no]

[which he doesn't deserve and is still struggling to terms with.]

End it and then rule it? Look, coming from a bonafide madman, that's fucking stupid.

[dreadinquisitor]

That's what I said, but somehow he still managed to raise an army to follow him

[He holds out both hands, a 'what're ya gonna do' gesture.]

[h2no]

...I mean, I didn't quite raise an army, I just had a small team, but I like to think I had a point that wasn't completely insane.

Just, uh. Y'know. The method.

[dreadinquisitor]

If it helps, you don't seem particularly mad now. [He smiles.] And Corypheus would have never made me tea.

[h2no]

I got lucky.

...Corypheus, honestly. Even the name.

[dreadinquisitor]

Now imagine someone shouting "bow before the will that is Corypheus" at you. [He laughs softly, and shakes his head.] ...He was a piece of work.

[h2no]

Good fucking lord.

[he can't help but snort.]

You're talking about him in past tense. I hope that means he's dead.

[dreadinquisitor]

He wanted into the Fade so badly, so I obliged him. [A beat, a small bob of his head.] In pieces.

....Hopefully he stays that way this time.

[h2no]

Careful what you wish for, right?

[he assumes the fade is an afterlife, which is a completely badass name.]

Well, I'm sure if he comes back he'll just need one look at you before he shits his loincloth and immediately retreats.

[dreadinquisitor]

One can only hope. [He isn't sure what he expects, knowing that Hawke had also killed Corypheus once before, and the Grey Wardens had held him imprisoned before that, but he knows that he'll keep waiting, just in case, ready to try again. For as long as he can. If he ever returns home....

Quickly, he closes that trail of thought off and shakes his head to chase the moment away.]

...But enough about him, he doesn't deserve the attention. What about you- any plans for the holiday I understand is coming up?