Step City

Max's reply broke her heart. He could see it, if he looked at her face. He hadn't rejected anything she said except about the fucking cred. None of the important things. None of the shit that actually mattered.

"I can get myself home. Like I said: you can stop worrying about me." She wanted him to stop her. Object to this, at least. Do something to show she was wrong and he hadn't just pitied her this entire time.

Vel hesitated. And then turned to walk away.

‘What made you think that would work, dumbass?’ Maxilith shook his head, frustrated with himself. Yet, still speech betrayed him. ‘Come ON! Fucking say something! Do SOMETHING!’

Unable to think of anything else, Max rushed forward to grab Velina's wrist. He held on for less than a second before remembering Vel's reservations about touch and released her just as quickly, looking apologetic.

“ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ…” His voice was small and unwilling to travel as he still avoided bringing his eyes up to meet Vel's. Max took a breath then tried again.

“I can't just… not worry.” It was not lost on him that Vel was essentially trying to convey the same issue to him only moments before. Still, the sentiment held. He would worry if Vel walked out of his life, even if he knew she had other people she could rely on. “I'm sorry, okay. I'm just… I am kind of stupid…”

He was right to let go immediately, because otherwise Vel might have hurt herself with the speed at which she tried to yank it away. It wasn't even because of his touch in specific; when she was upset, old fears reared their ugly heads.

The soft plea cut off her reflexive sorry in her throat, and she stared at him. She'd wanted him to come after her... but she hadn't expected him to. She didn't expect to be worth the trouble. She didn't expect to be worth an apology.

Maybe she really was pathetic. She accepted him immediately, feeling her heart break all over again to see him so dejected. She didn't want to end their friendship here. Whatever softness and weakness there was in her, it buckled immediately.

She took a deep breath.

"...I, I'm sorry I called you stupid. I didn't mean it." Her chest felt too tight, so she took in another deep breath, trying to loosen it. Trying to figure out what to do next. How did they fix this?

"Look...maybe you should walk me home. Then you can come up and, I don't know, we can try to sort this out again." Anxiety buzzed in the background of her thoughts, a low, frantic warning of everything that could go wrong. She tried to ignore it. "And, and then if something goes sideways again...at least you don't have to, like, worry if I got home safe. And, I don't know, if things are...fine, we can watch a movie or play a game or something."

Vel wanted to grab his hand. She couldn't manage it, instead wringing the hem of her hoodie.

"Is that...okay?"

Max wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or wary that Vel accepted his apology so quickly. Once people were upset, didn’t they usually stay upset for a while? He needed to remember that Vel got upset because she cares. He frightened her and made her think he didn’t take her concerns seriously. She wouldn’t blow up like that just to corner him… would she?

Still, the Bandito nodded his assent to Vel’s suggestion. It was better than letting her walk away.

“Stupid isn’t wrong, though.” Max casually insisted, finally allowing his still-guilty looking gaze to flicker back up to meet Vel’s. The streetlights played eerily off of the gold that trimmed his irises while he still kept his head low. He wanted to apologize again, but words were just as difficult now as they’d been on their way to the Vendy just a little while ago. Only now it was for a different reason. Finally he pulled his shirt back on and gestured for Vel to go ahead, indicating he would follow.

“Maybe I can get my head on straight enough to make more sense by the time we get there.”

When he agreed, it was all Vel needed to button up the rest of her hurt feelings for the walk. She could spend some time with them to see what the right way to talk to him was, or just make herself more upset, but it was...progress? that they were able to walk back to her apartment.

Or maybe it was backsliding, falling back into the immediate familiar pretense of ignorance between them. The one where they avoided the subjects that hurt and tried to live some kind of friendship on pleasantries and never breaking the surface tension.

She let out a sigh as they walked, her thoughts spiraling. She should have never called him stupid. It was mean and pointless and now he had bit into it and wouldn't let go.

"Maybe," she said quietly. "Walks help me." She'd take more of them if it didn't get the him and the rest of the Luxe up in arms about her safety.

"But...you know, this, this was probably the worst time to start fighting you on this." Vel had meant to walk quietly and think, but her mouth was open so words started flowing out in tempo with her anxiety. "I mean, like, you just were all feverish, and you just got healed, so you've gotta be worn out. I shouldn't've gotten into it with you. That's, it's fucked up, so, I don't know. If...I don't want to force you to do anything, it's just, like, we're already talking about it..."

In the moments of quiet to follow, Maxilith was finally able to really take a moment to appreciate feeling well again. At least, in comparison to his previous state. Just walking and breathing did well to put off the disconcerting thoughts for now. He agreed with Vel- walks helped. It's why he often found himself outside when he felt restless.

Just as Max felt that he might finally begin to put his thoughts in order, Vel spoke up again. He listened, taking note of the anxiety clear in the pacing of her speech. Was she trying to apologize?

“Vel, you and I both know we wouldn't have talked through anything if not for my… mistakes tonight.” Max replied, his voice returned to him somewhat but still carrying with it something solemn. “I'd say it's more fucked that I brought you into this at all, but since you know now, it's only fair that I answer any questions you have. Go ahead.”

Guilt was starting to sink in and mix with the anxiety. Vel was digging into his past and everything he didn't want her to because of a mistake. And, yeah, it stung to be only involved accidentally. But if she had done something similar, would she want Max to push it?

Or would she want Max to open up in return.

Vel chewed her lip. "...Let's get home first. I don't want to do this out here." With her hand wrapped in her sleeve, she went to reach for his hand in turn, keeping skin shielded enough to be comfortable with holding.

They just had to get to the Luxe, and up the stairs, and into the warmth of her apartment, and she could figure out what to do from there.

Why was Vel so nervous? Max was a little concerned, but then again, she’d already learned some worrying things so maybe it was natural. He’d never left the door so open for her to ask questions before, so maybe she was nervous about what she’d find. But then again, she also held a lot back. Frankly, despite his suspicions about her vibe, Max had no idea how much she held back. Maybe something there was unsettling her.

“That’s fine with me.” The Bandito took the hand offered to him, smiling slightly at the effort she was making despite her issues with touch. He was glad, though. The gesture was somewhat comforting.

The hand holding helped. Max was welcoming her in, in more ways than one, and she just needed to get somewhere she felt *safe* to get them talking more.

She was quiet the rest of the short walk, mind whirling with what she would do, what she would ask him, what she would tell him. Ascending the stairs to get to her room, they could hear the dull bass beats of Court Luxe through the wall. It was soothing in its own way, knowing that people who accepted her were right there, no matter what happened with Max. He’d never hurt her, not physically, but there had just been a moment where things had almost snapped between them. It still felt raw.
‎
She opened the door for him to her small apartment, finally releasing the hand she’d held even on the climb. Within, lights were still on, and a soft flickering could be seen from the bedroom from the stream video game that must still be flashing on a death screen.

Her living room had a comfortable couch in it, and a television, and a copious amount of stuffed animals–-one Max would probably remember especially, as the bear was bigger than him and had been a bitch to get up the steps and into the front door when Vel had prematurely released it from the vacuum seal. There was no coffee table, but the side tables sported little coasters and a speaker so Vel could practice dances on the plush rug in front of the couch. She’d painted the walls a soft pink, and added little shelves (with more small plushes).

The living room was directly connected to the kitchen, only separated by a tall counter, and Vel gestured towards the couch for Max while she ducked in there to get them water and start a kettle going. And with a start she almost tripped over Pluto, who had gotten stuck in a corner trying to find his way to the door when he’d heard it open.

“Fuck! Oh, shit, baby, sorry, oh my god…” Max would hear from the kitchen as she scooped up the blind chihuahua. She’d momentarily reappear with glasses in one hand and the dog tucked under another arm, his tail going lazily as he stared into nothing. The sound of water heating in an electric kettle added background noise.

“Here, I’m sure you’re, like, worn out from the Vendy and everything…” she offered Max water, then settled onto the couch. It was all more stalling, really, and she chewed her lip before adding, “...Can you tell me about your, um, like, cravings?”

Holding Vel’s hand along the walk did a lot to keep Maxilith from fixating too hard on how bad this could get. Otherwise, some part of his mind might have decided he was marching towards punishment. The gentle contact reminded him that this was Velina, the one who’d been afraid to hurt him even in a training sense and who’d rushed to his aid not even twenty minutes prior. A few harsh words and a dash of anxiety wouldn’t change that.

Max followed her into her apartment, letting the distant din of the adjacent club roll off him more easily than it once might have. Once upon a time he’d be tense just being this close to a bar, but Court Luxe had become familiar. This walk up to Vel’s apartment was familiar. What was uncanny about it all was how the looming questions draped a veil of uncertainty over it all. What would she ask? Would she be able to accept what she’d hear? Would his walk away from this place later tonight be colored with heavy finality or relief?

Upon entering Vel’s place, Max sort of hovered in the living area, still standing despite her invitation for him to sit. He spent a brief moment looking at the large bear plush in one corner, feeling as if its beady eyes were scrutinizing him. He sighed, managing to register that it was just him feeling tired and self-critical, then finally sank onto the couch. Another layer of fatigue revealed itself to him, but he fought it. Now wasn’t the time.

Vel’s first question took him a bit by surprise. He was so immediately launched into thought that he didn’t even move to drink from the glass he’d been given. The Bandito was expecting something like ‘How did you get into this fighting thing?’, something more ‘let’s start from the beginning’ adjacent. This was sort of beginning adjacent, he supposed. Those urges, that energy? It's what made him run, after all.

“Ah, um… How do I put it…?” Maxilith pulled one hand away from his glass, gold-rimmed irises looking down at it.

“Like there’s too much energy but I’m too tired to act on it… explosive, like…” A thought occurred to him, “Like my vibe is a shell that wants to break. It wants to knock against something or someone until it shatters, and to hell with the damage left in its wake. If I ignore it and let the energy build I feel restless and jumpy- worse than usual. Like a dog who might bite if startled…”

Max clenched his open hand into a fist and let it settle on his lap, looking away to hide the shame on his face. It was a difficult sensation to put into words, one that made him feel foolish and weak for ever being unable to resist. Worse when he considered whether suggestions had aggravated the matter.

Vel listened quietly, trying to focus on what he was saying and not let her mind jump ahead to the next pause when she might bring up something foolish instead, or become preoccupied with her own experience instead of his. She kept her eyes on him even as he avoided looking at her, as he tried to explain the way his vibe made demands of him.

It was hard not to empathize, even if their cravings behaved in different ways. She spent a moment taking it in, letting it get quiet when she decided the next path the conversation might take.

Having Pluto, warm and settling, in her lap was a comfort maybe she should have offered him.

“So, that’s why you fight?” It was a question, but hardly one that needed answering. He didn’t like who he was when the cravings became intense, and fighting took the pressure off. Obvious and easy to understand.

“Has it always been like this?” That was a selfish question, she knew, though he didn’t, not yet.

While Max was busy being ashamed of himself, there didn’t seem to be any judgment in Vel’s reaction. She sounded thoughtful, and her initial perhaps rhetorical question lingered in his mind more than it needed to. He always looked for other reasons, but at the core of it there was that and there was the rush of seeing the itch sated, of seeing a challenge he was (usually) wholly in control of met and overcome. He could hide it behind nobler reasons, but that restlessness persisted regardless.

“Since V-Day.” He replied, still looking away and wondering how much to say. How strictly to stick to fights and his vibe and how much of his history was necessary to understand that. “It was… bad then. Hard for a kid to understand. It’s had its ups and downs ever since.”

Yeah, that would be difficult, to have aggressive cravings from a young age. Vel's had built over time with her Vibe, and with ignoring her Vibe, but maybe it always would have. Maybe it wasn't all the ways she'd tried to avoid using it that had done this to her.

"What about all of that, though, like...makes it so you don't want to ask for help? Maybe I can't go to the fights with you, but," she took a breath, trying to wrangle her feelings in order, "why do you act like I can't be involved at all? That asking me just to get you to a Vendy was a mistake?"

Maxilith tensed at the new line of inquiry, the hints of a more pained expression sneaking onto his face. She thought it was because of his vibe? Well it wasn’t as if he’d given her enough information to presume otherwise. This just… how did he explain enough for her to understand without explaining all of it.

“It’s not… None of it. That isn’t my vibe’s fault, I just…” Maxilith struggled with these words, an intense bitterness in his tone Vel had likely only heard from him once before, about a month prior when the leadership of the Purple District made a dramatic shift. This, however, sounded a little more hurt… “It’s someone else’s fault… I’m just left to deal with the scars left behind.”

"Can you tell me about it at all?" They were already here, in her apartment, safe and warm. He was healed, and tired, and was probably fighting a full on collapse from fatigue just to answer her questions. But she wasn't likely to get another chance to ask them.

"I don't know what happened, and...and, it's okay if you don't want to tell me everything, Max. You know I won't dig any deeper than you want me to go." Maybe she should, maybe it would be good for him if she wasn't so willing to let him close himself off. But if she didn't respect his boundaries, it was only a matter of time before he knocked on hers.

"I'm just scared for you. Tonight was scary. I don't know how bad that thorn stuff was, but...you could have died." Vel felt like admitting such a thing was a double-edged sword. Would knowing she was frightened for him make him take better care of himself? Or would he simply try harder to shut her out from it?

Surely Vel knew that when she asked like that, he had a hard time telling her no? She was facing Maxilith with a leap of faith- if he said too much, he would have to explain it all and he wasn’t sure he was ready to do that. Explaining why would lead to explaining how and mentioning names would necessitate explaining why he wasn’t still where he used to be…

“Let’s just say that… I used to answer to people who didn’t take that sort of weakness kindly.” It was the vaguest of answer Max could give, but he wanted to give her something since she was so worried. “It’s not something easy to unlearn… I’m sorry I scared you, really. I tried to avoid this because I knew it would.”

"Please don't avoid asking me for help because of this," she pleaded, knowing it was a lot to ask. She wasn't actually very helpful in most instances, she knew; more often than not she was more a burden in need of sheltering.

"I can, you know, accept it's difficult to ask for help. I get that. But, please do. Please. It's not being weak." She could tell her eyes were getting wet and she struggled with all her might to keep that down. To focus on him. "I know that's why I need help, but it's not the same for you. You know what you're doing, but, like, you can't do everything on your own. Nobody can."

The way Vel pleaded with him, Max wanted to hold her hand again. This time her shirt wasn’t in the way, though, and he wasn’t sure if the motion would be as welcomed as it had been before. Her words had a familiar ring to them. He’d heard Solace tell him similar things about asking for help not being wrong in hopes of encouraging him to allow her and Coriander to help him out more. Vel… well, she definitely wasn’t as put together as his sister-in-law but it was hard to ignore the heart with which she offered her own help.

Max’s thoughts went again to the question of why he’d bothered to humor Vel with things like the giant teddy bear looming in the corner. Sure, at first it might have been because he didn’t no how to tell her no, but so few people asked him out for such casual requests and even fewer thought of him enough to try and text him casually. Was it wrong of him to expect her to never insist on helping him in return?

“I… I can try. But, I also worry about keeping you safe.” Maxilith shifted his gaze back to the glass of water he was still holding but hadn’t otherwise touched. “I can’t ask you to help with this… not yet anyways. You’re not ready. Not just physically, but you’d see pain like tonight more often. On me and on others. I… I don’t want to ruin you like that.”

Something felt weird and wrong about the way he said ruin. It burrowed under her skin, reminded her that she was always lying to him. That he thought she was somehow special because she didn't fight.

She'd worked very hard to make herself a liability in a new, disappointing way by trying not to out herself as a vibepire, it seemed.

"I'm not going to be ruined. It doesn't matter how much violence I see, I'm still going to, like, worry about you and be afraid for you. But...not because I don't think you can take care of yourself." Vel struggled to find the right words, trying not to endlessly qualify her statements but worried something would get lost in translation and break them further apart.

"You can't teach me to fight and then try to keep me safe from everything. I'm probably going to get hurt sometime. But that's why I have people to ask for help, right?"

“That’s not-” Max was a little taken aback, finally looking back to Vel who he was sure misunderstood what he meant. At least in part. “I don’t want to be what desensitizes you to that. Not everyone on this fucking island needs to be able to look at violence without batting an eye.”

Maxilith sighed, considering something else, and seemed to relent somewhat. “But if I asked you to remain soft-hearted, it would just make you hurt and worry more in the long run. Neither feels right.”