Posts by MAXIME K.

A headache. It was the kind that made you close your eyes in order to hold back the tears of pain. And, it was all he remembered. He didn't know when he'd woken up nor how long he'd been walking. As he trekked through the cold, a steady stream of blood flowed from a gash on the side of his head and made a trail of dark red dots in the snow along with his... pawprints. Pawprints. Why was that so significant? Each time he tried to think about it, the pain in his head flared. He wasn't a doctor, but he assumed his headache was only half a result of his injury.

Other than that, his entire body ached and he was getting more tired by the minute. And somehow, he felt like he'd been through worse before.

Eventually, he could see something in the distance. A little bit further and he could make out what it was through the blurred lenses of his glasses. A floating. Freaking. Island. With stairs. That makes sense, he mused. For a brief moment, the canine considered the possibility he was dead and entering some sort of afterlife. He couldn't help himself. He laughed, despite the pain, confusion, and current situation. If that were true, he'd sooner expect to be greeted by the gates of hell than some stairway to heaven. He wasn't sure why exactly, but he could only barely remember that he was no stranger to lying, cheating... even killing for a cause. What that cause was, he couldn't recall.

That didn't seem important now. He had to find somewhere to get out of the cold, rest, and fix up his wound the best he could. And, up the stairs seemed like a good place to do so, even if he had to make the climb first. He'd gone this long, why not a little bit farther?

But, by the time he'd made it to the top, he could barely stand. His muscles protested every step, his head throbbed, and his vision swam. He focused on his front paws, telling himself he needed to keep going. No, he needed to lay down, only for a minute. Even before he'd made the conclusion, he had toppled over onto his side. Landing on his head harder than he'd intended, he winced. Then, because his sideways view of the world started to spin, he closed his eyes.

// simply because it won't let me tag Illya's account

feel free to post before dream does, though c:

Hearing a voice, the wolfdog's eyes remained shut. He realized he should've been more careful. He just hadn't been fully aware this place was inhabited. But, it was a little late now to be on guard. Fortunately for him, this stranger didn't sound hostile. "Well, miss obvious," he said quietly, strained voice laced with a soft russian accent. "I had gathered this much. Thank you, though." He only opened his bright yellow eyes when she began to prod at him, but remained laying down. "Please let me sleep." This time, his tone was sharper. "I can't move another inch."

Then, there was another, this creature incredibly easier to recognize. A cat. He assumed him and the weird-looking child were friends, or at least acquaintances. They had a similar scent to one another and neither appeared wary of the other. The male's first question had been answered - he tried to ignore the fact he'd been called an 'it' - but he too had stated what was plain to see. "I'm glad that everyone I've ran into so far has some common sense. But, I haven't passed out. Not yet anyways." He smiled, something that once again felt strange. There was a prospect of him dying here, with no idea of who he was, who these people were, nor where on earth he'd be taking his last breath. Yet, he found amusement. "Perhaps you could leave me to it? Or, if you'd like to help, you could get me a scotch. I'm starving."

It seemed there were more in front of him each time he blinked. All of them a part of some group or colony or something, he figured. "I think the fact of me being alive has been made known several times now." That was starting to get on his nerves. That and the fact they refused him a drink. "Whatever your experience, I say there's never a time alcohol 'isn't good'." Well, it appeared he wouldn't be getting anything from them. He'd have to find someplace else to nap. Then, he'd track down some liquor on his own. He rose slowly into a sitting position, wincing despite wanting to believe he was alright. His head still pounded and he was unsure how much farther he'd get walking. But, as long as it was away from these people, he'd be fine. What stopped him was the girl's mention of a medic. Well... he supposed he could wait a minute. He'd get patched up, then be on his way. "Look, 'druzhishche', I'll stay awake. And, my name..." The question gave him pause. He'd thought about it since he'd woken up, but only now did something seem to stir in his memory. "It's Max. Maxime."

Next, the fancy looking feline addressed him again. He wasn't giving him anything and his question had already been answered, so Max posed his own. "How about you give me your name? I might as well know if I'm to be staying here however long."

His attention then moved to the dog who looked like he might've just crawled out of a garbage can. "If I had the choice, I would think to introduce myself differently. But, I've had a smidge of bad luck, it seems." And, he'd thought that maybe whoever was up here would be more welcoming. He was about ready to get up, leave, and forget about this medic before the male presented him with a flask. A smirk replaced his neutral expression as he removed it from the ground, eyeing it for a moment. "I usually prefer something fancier in a glass, but seeing as I'm 'trespassing', I suppose I can't be too picky. Thank you, Rick." With a bit of effort, he managed to pry off the top and take a drink. It tasted terrible, but if it was all he'd get, he would take it. He didn't care what the name of this place was. He'd be on his way soon enough.

Finally, Max's eyes met those of the last to appear. He assumed the one he spoke of was the resident doctor and was glad someone was being sent to fetch her. He'd had quite enough of the people here. But, this one seemed... different. He couldn't place a paw on it. Not yet. But, he was determined to figure it out. Perhaps, it was the other's accent, similar to his own but more prominent. "I can't recall," he said with a nonchalant shrug, raising the paw that wasn't occupied by Rick's flask to absentmindedly touch the gash on his head. It still stung like hell, but he tried to distract himself by focusing on this individual. "Vy govorite na etom yazyke?" Hopefully, he was understood. If not, he'd still have an answer.

[druzhishche - buddy

Vy govorite na etom yazyke? - You speak the language?]

Now this was someone he wouldn't mind talking to. A small smirk graced his maw as he did his best to appear relaxed despite his injuries. "Hey, milaya. I'm Max." He took one more swig from Rick's flask before replacing the top and sliding it back towards its owner, although his gaze remained on Imperia. "You're alright. I got the opportunity to meet some of your friends while I waited. As for my wounds..." The wolfdog tilted his head, allowing her to see his injury better. "This. And my head hurts, along with just about every muscle in my body. Perhaps you can give me a look over?" he asked. "But, I'm sure with you taking care of me and a bit of rest, I'll be all better in no time." After a pause, the canine added, "Imperia's a beautiful name, by the way." He noted her brief glance at the tuxedo kitty and wondered what the relationship was. He figured that if it were anything important, he was sure to hear about it soon.

The next femme to speak to him was a lot less friendly than Imperia had been and Maxime didn't appreciate it. "I don't remember asking you," he said simply but sharply.

Then, it was back to the fellow russian. He too laughed at the answer he'd received, knowing it was likely true in part. His memory was foggy, but it seemed the other language was strangely clear in his mind. Why he remembered that above everything else didn't make much sense and was really quite frustrating. But, it was something he could use, if only to talk with this individual. "Eto tak? But, I'm afraid I'd never met you until only a few moments ago." Although, how could he be sure? As far as he knew, his life had began when he'd woken up a few hours ago. These people before him were really the only ones he'd ever met. He tried not to let that worry him, but he couldn't help but feel concerned. All he had to him was a name, a language, and a wound. What else was there that he didn't know?

[milaya - sweetie

eto tak? - Is that so?]

Jersey... boy? That seemed like an odd name. He didn't say as much, only offering the other a nod. "Nice to meet you, Jerseyboy." But, despite his attempts at being nice, it appeared that the feline wasn't having it. However, this didn't damper Maxime's own mood, or at least he didn't show as much. "Hey, I was just making friends. I'm sure speaking to her will not hinder her work." Now that he had gotten the last word in, he was prepared to try and ignore Jersey when the other posed another question. "Nothing that concerns you," was Max's simple answer, paired with a forced smile, like that you might give a child asking about something that's none of their business. Yes, he was being kind of a conceited jerk - almost on purpose now to see how much he could irritate the other - but, when all was said and done, he didn't care.

Now, back to Imperia. If he hadn't been sure before, he could now gather she was a shy one by the way she hid her face. But, that was quite alright. The wolfdog returned her smile as she thanked him before perking his ears to listen intently to what she had to say. To be honest, he hadn't expected so much attention to be put into his ailments. If it had been him, he would've simply found something to cover up the gash on his head and then forced himself to suck it up when it came to the rest of his pain. "Thank you, I'm glad it's not too bad. I had thought I should get some rest," he paused, looking around at those who had interrupted his attempts to lay down. "But, I suppose I should find a more proper place to do so. As for a concussion, is there anything you can do about that?" After her reassuring words to Jersey, Maxime stopped himself from adding some snarky remark. If him and Imperia were friends, he didn't want to tick him off any further in front of her.

Max had been in a similar position not long ago. Wounded, he too had stumbled upon the steps leading up to the still awe-inspiring floating islands. While he knew his introduction to the Clan wasn't one to envy, stumbling up the staircase dizzy, tired, and aching, he thought it better than running into them. The wolfdog watched the whole thing from nearby. He had been wandering the cold territory below the islands to think and search for anything that may offer him a clue as to what he was doing here. Unfortunately, he hadn't discovered much, but the sight of the feline made it worth it. Though, he probably shouldn't laugh, knowing that wasn't how he'd like to be greeted. Instead, he hid his amusement with curiosity as he approached the wounded one close behind someone he didn't recognize. "Dryan'," he muttered, watching while the witchy cat prepared to look after the stranger's injuries.

[dryan' - yuck]

In Max's case, the situation couldn't have been more perfect. Not only had he not ended up trapped in the pit, but he was here after someone had fallen in. And, it was the perfect thing to take his mind off of other, more concerning things. Hearing the voice from below, the wolfdog approached the edge, careful not to fall in himself. He looked down, unaware of Beck's presence, and smiled at the unlucky individual. "Hey, there, druzhishche! Need some assistance?" There was no need in trying to hide his amusement. The tiger was down in the hole. Maxime didn't have any idea how the other would be rescued, but he would be sure to stick around and watch.

[druzhishche - buddy]

Max was late to the game, but he figured he'd still be allowed to join. In all honestly, he'd much rather opt to hug most of those currently present, but he could always hope more would join in as the game progressed. And, if not, this was a good opportunity to get to know everyone around here. So, seating himself beside Caledonia, he looked at Sugarpop in waiting.

So, he'd decided to stay, check things out around here, at least for now. This place - BlizzardClan, as it was called - would take some getting used to, however long he was going to be here. He hadn't met anybody he'd consider a friend yet and he didn't plan on it. Max much preferred being alone. That was, unless the company of a good-looking lady or two was an option.

He was by himself now, hunched over a river he'd managed to locate. After getting the wound on his head fixed up, he wanted to clean up what blood remained on his fur, glasses, and scarf. The first two were simple: a few dips in the decently clear water and a rub. His scarf seemed to be a different story.

Maxime plunged it into the river for the fifth time, brows furrowing in annoyance as he lifted it from the water once again to reveal the faded scarlet stain was still there. He assumed that whatever fabric it was made of didn't agree with the blood that had happened to drip onto it. Why he was so disappointed, he wasn't sure. He didn't know where the thing had come from, only that he'd woken up wearing it. The color wasn't even that appealing and it was rather plain. But, he was having a hard time convincing himself to throw it out. Perhaps that was because it was one of the only things he had to his name.

The wolfdog held the soaking scarf in his paws and began using one of his pawpads to rub the pesky stain as hard as he thought he could without risking somehow ruining the fabric. "Come on, pozhaluysta," he murmured to himself. But, as he looked to see if the mark had gone away, that wasn't the case. It was still there. Maybe he could wear the scarf inside out? The stain would certainly be less noticeable then.

[pozhaluysta - please]

Really, he shouldn't be surprised who came to ruin the fun. Natasha seemed to enjoy the scene alongside him, but miss no-alcohol was extremely quick to want to rescue the tiger. They couldn't tease him a little bit longer? The wolfdog stepped back a little, rolling his eyes. He'd been about to leave when his call had finally been answered by the unlucky one who'd ended up trapped. He chose not to answer either one of Rajah's remarks, wanting to enjoy this a little longer. But, then there was another who wanted to rescue their clanmate, this guy also unfamiliar. "Please? Well, I can't exactly say 'no' to that," he joked with a smirk as he moved closer to the others, ready to help when they said so. Before that could happen, though, he was quite surprised to see someone pop out of the trees above. Again, someone he didn't know, but he assumed he had been responsible. In that case, Maxime thought that maybe he could get along with the feline. That was, as long as he didn't fall into one of Beck's traps.

Maxime liked to think he wouldn't be staying here long, that he wasn't bound to one place. But, where else would he go? Would it even matter? He'd still be lost, both when it came to physical direction and to himself. He had no memory of where he'd come from, who he was, no north on his compass that could help him in figuring out where he needed to go. So, really, there was no point in hurrying out of here until he had those things settled. Spotting Rick, Max told himself he was one of the few here he could tolerate talking to. He sat down, following the other's gaze down to the territory below BlizzardClan's islands, the place he'd woken up only days ago without a clue of what he was doing here. Then, he removed his glasses, the lenses of which were spotted with water droplets and looked to the canine beside him. "Hey, would you mind some company?" It was a little late to ask, seeing as he'd already made himself comfortable here, but whatever.

Max wasn't well acquainted with the dragon, nor the vials he wore. So, the chance to learn what that was all about couldn't be turned down. He couldn't help but be curious. Padding closer and stopping to stand beside Natasha, he watched as one of said vials began to glow. So, they were some sort of light? Weird. "Some of them broken? You need new ones?" he asked, only adding to the questions being hurled at the dragon.

Well, it seemed like he wouldn't be alone for long. The wolfdog turned to look and see who had spoken to him. The individual was unfamiliar to him. It was as if everywhere he went he ran into someone new. Dunking his scarf under the water one last time, he shook his head. "Nah." Then, at the feline's remark, he laughed. "So, you agree it's not very attractive? I was thinking the same thing, but I'm afraid I'm rather fond of it."

Then, there was someone else he had yet to meet. He hadn't realized cold water was what one should use; he'd only chosen a body of water at random. But, the other's gift of soap might help. Max nodded in gratitude as he began unwrapping the bar of soap before using it instead of his paw to rub out the stain. "Spasibo, eh, thank you."

The third to approach he did recognize. He didn't know her by name, but figured that wasn't important. If she was appalled by his habits, he didn't think they'd get along, anyways. Even in her trying to be friendly and offer him aid, she was no help at all. Bleach sticks? Sure, maybe that might've been helpful, but like her, he hadn't the foggiest where he'd find them. The people around here had some things, the soap he was using from the three-tailed fox thing was an example of that. He wasn't going to track down someone with stain removing sticks, though, no matter how desperate he may be.

Choosing to ignore feline, his attention moved to the last to appear. He wasn't much help either, but, then again, Maxime hadn't asked for any. "Sure sounds like fun," he mused sarcastically as he continued to scrub.

//surprise private thread 'cause I need muse ^~^ - ILLYA K.

It was a strange thing, being alive but not knowing who you were. The wolfdog might as well be some pawn in a board game. He'd been put here by some unknown entity without any memory of what had happened before that. He only had one way to go, and that was forward. He physically could not look back. Any attempt to think about his past only gave him a headache.

But, slowly but surely, he was regaining pieces of himself. One of those was his fondness for a drink. He'd managed to track down the small container of whisky that now sat between his paws. Drinking was a bad habit, he'd been told. That didn't mean he'd change. Another thing he'd discovered was his preference for being alone. While it was true he could be a bit conceited, he liked to spend time by himself, just thinking, as he was now. Max had figured out that not many parts of this territory were free of commotion, seeing as the place was teeming with members. Hopefully, the clearing he found himself in now wouldn't be disturbed, at least for an hour or two.

Promotions, demotions, who was and wasn't here... Max wasn't yet in the loop about these things. After being alone for the first few hours of his remembered life, Clan life would be hard to adjust to. He would hopefully get there soon, though, because right now everything just seemed confusing. And he meant everything.

Although Maxime had chosen to be out here in order to be alone, the presence of this guy was one he didn't mind. It was probably the fact they shared a way of speaking, but he felt like he could get to know the other canine. Maybe they'd be friends or drinking buddies. "I dunno. Maybe you should stand," he said, tone laced with sarcasm. Then, a moment later, a smirk graced his maw. "No, you have my permission to sit. I don't mind having someone to talk to for a bit." It was only then that he realized he didn't know the other's name. "Uh, I never got your name, though," he said, moving to pick up his whisky with a paw. For some odd reason, he felt like that simple task had been easier under other circumstances. But, he couldn't ever remember not using paws. Anyways, it took him a minute, but once he had a good hold on the flask, he lifted it. "Want some? Actually, this all I have and I don't really want to share." After a laugh, he brought the drink to his lips and took a long sip.

//I'll do what I can x3 but whatever it is about BlizzClan (the size maybe, or my general laziness not to keep up) just drains my muse

//I'm having the same problem with school after doing nothing all summer. After I get my other charries situated, I'll be able to get more active with Max, hopefully. But, I hope your school situation gets cleared up and you don't feel so overwhelmed! Just let me know if I'm being too impatient xD Also, this is really long and out of nowhere, sorry!

If the other didn't really understand sarcasm, he'd have to get used to it while hanging around Max. Simply because the wolfdog often couldn't help himself. Messing around with others was enjoyable to him and, oftentimes, if he saw that it bothered someone, the teasing would only increase.

In fact, he was thinking of making some remark about the other canine's seemingly grumpy attitude when his scheming was interrupted by Illya's introduction. Although that first name seemed eerily familiar enough, it was the last name that stuck out. Then, like someone had flipped a switch in his mind, there was something there that wasn't only moments before.

~

"Off to the States again, Max?" asked the man who sat across the table from him. His messy blonde hair stuck out all over the place and matched perfectly with the thick eyebrows that were likely his most notable feature along with his crooked nose. The other man's accent was thick and telling of his russian upbringing. "One of these times, I'm going to have to throw a party and invite some gals. You'll wish you were here!"

Maxime chuckled, raising an eyebrow in exaggeration. "You do that. And, make sure you get some pictures, that way I have proof." In comparison to his friend, Max's accent was softer. Along with Russian and English, he knew how to speak a smidge of French from his time in the beautiful city of Paris. He'd been there twice - both times for strictly work-related reasons, of course. English was his second language and he was almost most familiar with that one over the others. Well, unless one counted the 'language' of computers. But, that didn't really sound as attractive as something like French.

Looking down at the table as him and his buddy laughed together, his eyes skimmed over the glass he held loosely in his hand. He'd forgotten what exactly was inside, but the aroma of alcohol was thick in the air. Absentmindedly, his gaze continued to wander and he caught a brief glance of himself in a decorative mirror that hung not far from their table. Unlike the man sitting across from him, Maxime was substantially better groomed, his short black hair gelled and his extended goatee also short and well-trimmed. Moving his focus back to the other gentleman, Max adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses before continuing the conversation. "It won't be as long as last time, I promise you that."

"You said that last time!" his friend returned after taking a swig of his own drink. "I'm starting to think you've found some Amerikosy gal and plan on settling down, leaving me to come to this place by myself."

"Does that sound like me? No, I can't think about getting married. I've too much work to do." But, they both knew that wasn't the reason. Maxime just had a habit of being undecisive and noncommittal. The longest he'd been with a girl was eight months, and that had even been on and off.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. That's why you're leaving me here and going to the U.S. This work that's so important to you." As far as the other man knew, Maxime worked with computers and that was it. He hadn't gone into much more detail intentionally. "Are taking that brother of yours? The Kuryakin twins work for the same organization, if I'm remembering what you told me correctly."

"That's true, but we... do different jobs." The most vague way he could put it. "We mostly keep to ourselves. He does his thing, I do mine."

His friend bit his lip, as if thinking about whether he should press Max for more information. Eventually, he must have decided against it because he changed the subject. "Well, when you come back, I'll have to have you take a look at my television. I think there's something wrong with the picture-"

He cut himself off as Maxime rose from his seat, drink still in hand. "There's a redhead at the bar who I suspect I'll have a much more interesting conversation with." He pointed behind the other before making his way in that direction. As he passed, he patted his friend on the shoulder with a teasing smile. "Nice meeting up with you, Usov."

~

As the memory faded, Maxime realized he was probably making some stupid face. Hoping the other hadn't realized his quite obvious baffled expression, he raised invisible eyebrows in surprise. "Kuryakin? Kuryakin. The name sounds familiar. Is it very common?" Deciding to try and forget what had just happened, he carried on their banter about drinks. "Oh, I couldn't agree more when it comes to scotch. I usually just take whatever's available, though." That was, as long as it didn't taste like complete garbage.