[Maxie isn't easily fazed anymore; the possession had ensured that. Steel yourself against it and maybe it won't steal you. Terrible, terrible wordplay. But in the end it works. Keep yourself closed off and nothing else gets in, and avoid the quiet spots where your mind goes blank. Good advice on good days
( ... )
[For a moment Maxie offers nothing beyond a quiet "Tch..."; his initial temptation is to slap the guy across the face, and he gets to a point where he draws his hand up as though intending to do so. At the same time, he knows it won't do anything productive; that knowledge tempers the urge, turning it into a couple of quick snaps in front of his face instead of landing any sort of strike across it.]
That won't help you, you know. After all, it's not you, is it? It's something else. And there's no sense in being distraught over things you haven't even done.
Besides, those sorts of things like to prey on the weak. When you're distracted or upset or angry or...what have you. At least, in my experience. So I'd imagine that the longer you're distraught about it, the worse it is to deal with later.
[He breaks eye contact then, returning his attention to where he's been steadily applying pressure to the injury. There's a good amount of blood on his hands, but that's fine.
After all that, a change of topic feels necessary.]
... It is him. It's Ghost, but he can hardly tell him and Ghost apart anymore. He knows he's weak. The longer he's distraught about it? Too late for that, it's destroyed his mental defenses already...]
... It's been eight years.
[Another sharp intake of breath, that still really hurts. Oh, another question...]
[And if Maxie operated on earth logic, that might have explained a lot. As it is, he's not exactly sane himself - never has been, really, and Groudon didn't do him any favors whatsoever. As such, that statement doesn't do much for him; his mental response is somewhere between 'cool story bro' and informing him that he had better get on with it, then, though the second answer at least provides some sense of distraction.]
...people really don't name their children anything normal anymore, do they.
[...not that his name is much better, but. Technicalities.]
[Well, given that both parties have pretty much been violently punched in the brain, it's more or less a case of the blind leading the blind at this point.
And after a good amount of time has passed in utter silence, Maxie turns his head to ensure that you haven't...he doesn't know, passed out or something. And is immediately confronted with that stare you're giving him.]
[Yeah, uh. The thing about that is that as far as Maxie is concerned, it kind of does explain everything. Perhaps your parents just looked at that and had an oh holy crap moment or something...and he must admit he's grateful that his parents didn't do the same.
Instead, they just found 'Maxie' to be an acceptable name for a boy. Clearly, not thinking things through at all runs in the family, here.]
[Oh hey, your eyes are red, too. And a little shiny. That's cool.
And back to normal staaaare. With some wincing because getting shot seriously hurts.
Parents are parents and Red will never understand the mind of a parent. Or anyone, really. Except another Red. And you shouldn't complain so much, Maxie is a better name for a boy than what Norman named his kid after all.]
[...that would be the half-glazed stare of insanity, but sure.
And 'Maxie' is a perfectly acceptable name for a boy...and then the boy turns six. But at the same time, you have a very, very valid point - and Norman had better hope that Maxie never realizes that very, very valid point. My god. Clearly, he wanted that boy to be fabulous.
Well, even if it hasn't stopped entirely because hello gunshot wound, at the very least you're...bleeding far less profusely all the hell over. Maxie isn't sure if that's because of anything he did or because protagonists are just completely indestructible, but either way, it's more than he does for most people. Be glad you caught him in a reasonably charitable mood, because in the end he just happened to be there and you would be screwed otherwise. Or...something.]
I would suggest getting the actual bullet removed eventually. I doubt you'd like how I would do it.
[Red's a bit mentally challenged himself, so. Whatever works.
"Ruby" for a guy? Really" And Norman complains about his inclinations.
Oh, hey. Not bleeding as much is good. Red's been injured before, and badly. He's just not used to one injury bleeding so freaking much. Feeling a bit dizzy, but at least it won't be getting worse all that quickly. And yep, pretty glad you stopped to help him out, he likes being alive. Even if he's completely sure that he deserves to die and nothing can convince him otherwise.]
Oh. Right. [Looking back down at that wound, it's pretty obvious he's considering just taking the thing out. Reds are rarely prime examples of common sense, so this makes perfect sense to him. Completely oblivious to the awkwardness.]
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That won't help you, you know. After all, it's not you, is it? It's something else. And there's no sense in being distraught over things you haven't even done.
Besides, those sorts of things like to prey on the weak. When you're distracted or upset or angry or...what have you. At least, in my experience. So I'd imagine that the longer you're distraught about it, the worse it is to deal with later.
[He breaks eye contact then, returning his attention to where he's been steadily applying pressure to the injury. There's a good amount of blood on his hands, but that's fine.
After all that, a change of topic feels necessary.]
Tell me your
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... It is him. It's Ghost, but he can hardly tell him and Ghost apart anymore. He knows he's weak. The longer he's distraught about it? Too late for that, it's destroyed his mental defenses already...]
... It's been eight years.
[Another sharp intake of breath, that still really hurts. Oh, another question...]
... Red.
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...people really don't name their children anything normal anymore, do they.
[...not that his name is much better, but. Technicalities.]
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But that remark... His name is normal! He's from Pokemon, so of course it is!
You get a staaaaaaaare. He's gameverse, what do you expect?]
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And after a good amount of time has passed in utter silence, Maxie turns his head to ensure that you haven't...he doesn't know, passed out or something. And is immediately confronted with that stare you're giving him.]
Yes, well.
[...oh, come on...!]
You have to admit it's a bit unusual, at least.
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Yo, just staring.]
... My eyes are red. [Like that explains everything. He may be smart in some ways, but Reds are rarely prime examples of common sense.]
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[Yeah, uh. The thing about that is that as far as Maxie is concerned, it kind of does explain everything. Perhaps your parents just looked at that and had an oh holy crap moment or something...and he must admit he's grateful that his parents didn't do the same.
Instead, they just found 'Maxie' to be an acceptable name for a boy. Clearly, not thinking things through at all runs in the family, here.]
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And back to normal staaaare. With some wincing because getting shot seriously hurts.
Parents are parents and Red will never understand the mind of a parent. Or anyone, really. Except another Red. And you shouldn't complain so much, Maxie is a better name for a boy than what Norman named his kid after all.]
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And 'Maxie' is a perfectly acceptable name for a boy...and then the boy turns six. But at the same time, you have a very, very valid point - and Norman had better hope that Maxie never realizes that very, very valid point. My god. Clearly, he wanted that boy to be fabulous.
Well, even if it hasn't stopped entirely because hello gunshot wound, at the very least you're...bleeding far less profusely all the hell over. Maxie isn't sure if that's because of anything he did or because protagonists are just completely indestructible, but either way, it's more than he does for most people. Be glad you caught him in a reasonably charitable mood, because in the end he just happened to be there and you would be screwed otherwise. Or...something.]
I would suggest getting the actual bullet removed eventually. I doubt you'd like how I would do it.
[...this is horribly awkward, isn't it.]
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"Ruby" for a guy? Really" And Norman complains about his inclinations.
Oh, hey. Not bleeding as much is good. Red's been injured before, and badly. He's just not used to one injury bleeding so freaking much. Feeling a bit dizzy, but at least it won't be getting worse all that quickly. And yep, pretty glad you stopped to help him out, he likes being alive. Even if he's completely sure that he deserves to die and nothing can convince him otherwise.]
Oh. Right. [Looking back down at that wound, it's pretty obvious he's considering just taking the thing out. Reds are rarely prime examples of common sense, so this makes perfect sense to him. Completely oblivious to the awkwardness.]
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