Special assistance required - TBD Vhalar, 718
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He’d never gone through a rupturing portal before, and he never wanted to again.
With the grace of a brick he landed face-first on hard, cold ground. He groaned as he tried to reorient himself, but up had turned down and left had become right, and for the better part of five trills he decided to remain on the floor. When he tried to get back up, he swayed like a drunk, stumbled, doubled over and only just managed to keep his insides inside as he staggered around for support. “What the hellll,” he slurred. “Whe- where are we?”
His mind seemed to run twice as slow as his body, struggling to comprehend the flashes of space and time it had just traveled through to reach what looked like the inside of a barn. After a few more moments of dangerous swaying he finally regained his footing and also managed to locate the collection of limbs and disheveled hair that most resembled Special Assistant Blackwood: Maxine’s, quote, friend, end quote. But of Mad Max herself, there was no trace at all.
Strange. He’d expected her to be putting Zipper’s dictionary of vulgarities to shame by now. Either Blackwood had screwed up, or Max the brave had once again tucked her tail between her legs and ran away from that monster called responsibility. In a way he could empathize.
A mooing cow send his heart flying into his throat and he very nearly collapsed into a miserable pile of limbs again at the sudden noise. Finally his brain caught on. Barn. Animals. Those two things at least made a modicum of sense.
Almost as suddenly the thought emerged to do something, and first on the list of things to do was to roll his eyes at the woman called Blackwood. He ruffled some stray bits of hay from his hair before he walked up to her.
“Gee, thanks lady. Do you think they’ll want to lock me up twice or thrice as long now that you’ve broken me out? Did you take a page from Max’s book on subtlety?” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave the woman a cold stare before he finally relented. “Thanks anyway for disposing of Max. She was getting on my nerves too…”
"Word of advice," he continued as he spun around and started searching for the nearest exit, "no one's ever friends with Max. You're either her enemy, or you're tolerated. There ain't much beyond that. But I trust you're aware?" Truth be told, the last time he'd seen Max before to-trial had been many, many arcs ago. Maybe, over the course of all those years she'd changed, become a little less defensive, a little less feline-like in the way she clawed at everything that she deemed a threat. Maybe-
Hell no. Fiona would sooner give him a hug.
Unless Sephira decided to follow, his voice would grow ever fainter as he zig-zagged between the various stalls in the barn in search of the fastest way out. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the free jailbreak," he called over his shoulder. "Just need to work on the stealth part...Ah, found it! Over here!" he called out as he waved to a single, unhinged door through which a crack of light beamed.