In Medias Res
The sound of a door being knocked upon drowned out all others--it was the most prominent, if only to Rey.
The constant chatter of inane conversations stories above could certainly be heard, but were far too easily ignored. Right now, the only thing that mattered was making sure his cousin was doing alright. The suddenly close proximity of light, pillowy footsteps behind the door just in front instantly brought all sounds back into equilibrium, forcing Rey to reality.
The door opened. "Ah...Reymont." The voice was as light as his own, if not more so, but contained a prominent rasp. "You're late."
"I have reasons--"
"Don't fret, cousin. Step inside for a moment--it's simply frigid out here." A hand motion ushered Rey inside, wherein the door closed behind him.
The interior was most certainly a sight for the sore eyes of Rey. The tiled floor alternated between blue and white, and the walls were painted a pleasant wan. A gilded chandelier hung up from the ceiling, spreading its stretching rays blending all across the room, while a thick, soft-looking bed with white sheets sat itself a few feet from the doorway. To his right was what appeared to be a dining table, though nothing was set upon it save a deep violet cloth, and beyond such was what appeared to be the beginning of a kitchen.
"So," began the other, sauntering to a seat at his bedside. "What happened? You look dreadful." He, too, was a white rabbit--but rather than snowy, his fur was a deathly pallid. As Rey, his features were soft, if a bit seemingly disheveled, but his eyes were also notably narrowed. They radiated a blood-crimson, there being nothing to hide the obvious sanguine, and gave him a surprisingly intimidating appearance.
He wore a lavish grey suit coupled with a darker overcoat, albeit missing a tie. Overall, his very appearance exaggerated the discrepancy between he and Rey, the latter wearing a featureless fur-colored shirt, blue jeans, and an ocean-azure hoodless jacket.
"Yeah, today was frantic, to say the least. But it's worth knowing that you're okay," he said gently. Though the details of the albino's eyes were indiscernible, Rey could tell he was being looked at directly.
"Is that so? Is that why you're late for...how many times has it been, now?" Rey found himself taken aback by his sudden disappointment.
"I've risked my life to see you, Max! Really, I'm sorry, but I'm trying as hard as I can." The albino named Max dimmed his eyes and let out a breath of a chuckle.
"What has given you so much trouble, regardless...?"
"Giants, Max," he retorted simply.
"Ah...right. Listen to me, Reymont." His demeanor was suddenly commanding. "I'm actually glad you're here later than usual, for you've caught me during the fine four hours of the day that I'm not confined to my bed." Rey took a seat on a wooden chair and leaned intently.
"I have been chained to this life of weakness for so long. The opportunities to see the folk, that is to say you, are few and far between. I grow wearier with every passing day--not due to age. I've only just passed my thirtieth year; I should not suffer this magnitude. And so, your visits mean a titan's burden to me." He suddenly stopped, unscrewed the cap from a plastic cylindrical container at his bedside and popped a tiny pill into his mouth.
"Maximillion Tolst." He exhaled the words. "Now, isn't that a proud name to go by? It's also one the giants here in Scotton know quite well." Rey cocked his head, but waited.
"If the mayor sees me hurt, he'll stop everything to make sure I turn out just fine. He's at my whim, Reymont. Do you know why?" Rey only shook his head, refusing to disconnect eye contact.
"I have connections. I have lots of them. To you, I am one under chronic illness--while that is not incorrect, there is much more to my life. I must have the whole town in my pocket, ironic as that may seem. I've earned a mutual trust with the mayor, and such it is so that my word is valued, and such it is a great source of my income.
"There is one other thing I can value of Scotton, and that is sympathy. When they came, I thought I'd be the first to go." He then shook his head solemnly. "But no. And it turned out they valued my views on politics as well. If you couldn't tell, I just returned from a meeting." He finished the last as he pinched his own suit by the neck.
"Oh yes, and since then, life has been as best I could hope for. I can even say that I am wealthier than a good amount of the giants that live here. Though, sometimes, I can't help but think." He stopped, this time not showing signs of immediate continuation.
"Think about what?"
"You. Scotton in general, I suppose. A lot of things. The thing is, wealth is great. Working in such a high position is great. Life is...well, no, that's what I was going to get at.
"You face danger and poverty every day, do you not? I find it so easy to forget it, but it's true. But in the meanwhile, I'm here--trapped, it feels like. Four hours of purity; the remaining twenty is agony. I can't say you know what it's like."
"I can't either. But I can well imagine, and for it I'm very sorry." Rey kept a serious visage, but sighed. "But you're right in saying we face danger every day. I risked my life to see you, you know."
"You don't seem to be understanding, so I'll say it: sometimes, I think I envy you," Max retorted flatly. Rey's eyes widened.
"Please, don't say that." That was all he could say without sounding obviously hollow. Max's eyes drifted away from Rey.
"You think I have a point." Rey felt a sudden surge of impatience, but quelled it as quickly as it came.
"I understand how much your condition hurts you, but it hurts me too. And it hurts even more when you feel you might be better off dead." Max sniffed and turned his gaze back to Rey.
"You're right about that, so don't worry yourself. I won't take my own life, if that's what you're thinking. And I certainly won't put myself in harm's way. I suppose that...all I wish to say is that you're the only thing keeping me in a remotely hospitable state. I might as well have this town eating out of my hands--I have everything--but I haven't forgotten you. Remember that."
"Trust me, I will." Rey smiled, causing the other to reciprocate.
"Glad." All was silent for a short while. "I'm done beating around the bush, now. I understand you and your friends might be needing help." Rey seemed to spring up at the mention.
"Oh, like you wouldn't believe." He suddenly stopped, remembering something. "But I think seeing you will be much less trouble. Either way, I'm not sure what can be done."
"You're right," said Max. "It's not as though I can simply tell everyone to 'lay off.'--I have authority, but not that much. I have to propose some big things, you know? And I have to give them reason to agree." He trailed off abruptly, leaving them both to thought. Rey found himself staring up at the mesmerizing brilliance of the chandelier above.
"Anyway. I'll do what I can, yes? Until then...suppose I can get you something to eat?" Rey nodded, catching up to reality. Max laughed again.
"I always knew you weren't one for words and all, but really. You need to speak up. You probably haven't had anything half-decent in a great while."
"It'd be wrong to spoil myself; just some bread would be fine." Max gave him a queer look, but promptly stood and walked past the table to a cupboard in the kitchen.
"True." Max returned with a whole loaf, uncut and perfectly fresh. "Always were the efficient one, though." Rey took the loaf gratefully.
"It's valued among the others in the Undersector," he said with a bit of pride, tearing a small piece off the bread. Max visibly cringed, leaving Rey to wonder momentarily at what.
"Eh...where you live, it's called that? The _Under_sector? How...shady."
"Giants gave it the name, leave it be," Rey said dismissively, whirling his wrist about. "But still, I'm surprised we've gotten so far. Progress in most regards is slow, but we're surviving." He didn't notice the grip on his bread had tightened slightly.
"Survival is good, yes," he said absently, as though hardly listening. "Tell me, what kind of...folk, I'll say, do you tend around?" Rey seemed disappointed by the question.
"Perfectly normal ones, if that's what you're asking. I understand why you would be suspicious, but trust me, nobody has cracked or anything, and we're all doing okay. One of my close friends takes over a lot of responsibility over the operations and goings-on of the Undersector." At the last, Max raised an eyebrow.
"Reymont--that close friend wouldn't happen to be the one..." he trailed off only to be interrupted by a defensive Rey, the two in a state of mutual understanding in regards to the subject.
"Please, don't bring that up. Dex is a great guy, a great mechanic, and he's perfectly fine in the head."
"If you insist. But there's always going to be some grain of truth in those rumors--there's no debunking that. What is he like?" Rey already had attained a sense of snooping, but answered anyway.
"He doesn't like to be bothered most of the time, very...reserved with his work. If you happen to meet him, try not to ask too many questions."
"Heh. A man of mystery?" He said the last more as a statement than a thoughtful question, and a sarcastic one at that. "I already don't like him."
"That's fine, you don't have to. I wish that weren't true, though," Rey said meaningfully. "I mean, the whole group at the Undersector already has enough trouble keeping on equal terms with each other. I think that we as tinies need to stick together, you know?" Max seemed to ponder his words silently.
"I understand. But keep in mind I only judge because I'm trying to keep an eye out for you--I'm a decade past you, after all." Rey only nodded, wanting to change the subject. Max seemed to notice the anxiousness in his visage.
"So," he started again, "any others I should know about?"
"I invited a nice girl. She's an orphan now, I think. But she made it safely to the Undersector just the other day. I'm hoping that she'll find her place soon enough, and that she'll stick with Dex so she doesn't get hurt." Max smirked knowingly and leaned in his sitting position.
"A girl? In times like yours, I suppose everyone needs one--"
"N-no, no, it's really not like that. We're friends. I don't think I could ever see us anywhere beyond that." He could feel his face turn warm for a mere moment, nonetheless. "She, uh, is pretty cute, though." Max's smiled faded only slightly.
"Oh, that's a shame. Suffice to say I'm a tad staggered that you haven't set your sights on a lady yet." Rey shifted slightly.
"Well...that isn't completely true. See--uh, wow, this is going to sound weird."
"Sounds like you've a story to tell," he sang almost tauntingly. His sanguine eyes were filled with a delight Rey hadn't seen often in him.
"Okay. You know I cut through a giant's place to get here. Through a series of events I'd rather not recount, I, uh, ended up getting set up for tomorrow. With her." The very air suddenly became quiet for what must have been nearly half a minute. Just as Rey began to want to take back what he had said, Max's harsh, rasping laughter--only as powerful as he could be allowed, which was not very--shattered the silence.
"Oh, you're kidding! I'm not sure whether to laugh or to cry, Reymont," he said, despite being already knee-deeply engaged in the former. "Such a thing is positively unheard of. Have my congratulations and best wishes." It was not long before he regained composure and only made a contented hum every few seconds.
"I...yeah, I thought you'd say that. Better yet, I'm not the one who suggested it," he said shamelessly.
"All's well. Who's the lady?"
"Fiela--she lives just behind you, I think." Max suddenly straightened his posture completely, appearing at least somewhat taken aback.
"Oh. Yes, I'm aware of her. I'd be careful if I were you; she's more than a bit of a feisty girl, rather in tune with her instincts." Rey nodded.
"I get that," he said, drifting off retrospectively. "I don't really know what to think of the whole thing. Though like I mentioned earlier, coming here shouldn't be as much of a hassle, at least."
"I'd advise you not to worry about it extensively. If she, of all people mind you, is interested, it's probably real. What could go wrong?"
"Don't jinx it." The two shared a short-lived mild-natured laugh.
"But in all seriousness, I hope it goes well for you." Rey nodded again.
"Thanks. I have to be there around noon tomorrow." He stopped and looked away for a moment, clearly thinking about something. "And it'd be a little odd to show up passing through again until that point."
"You'll be needing a place to stay." It was again a statement, or more or less an observation. Rey once more noted his unorthodox speech. Perhaps he really was observing something.
"Yes, if that's okay with you."
"Of course it is, Reymont. Stay as long as you need to--company's the better." Rey gave him a momentary smile, which said as many thanks as words would. Max seemed suddenly solemn, obviously in deep thought, hunching over slightly and temporarily avoiding eye contact.
"On the topic of homes," he muttered softly, "I can't help but ponder: why don't you leave? It seems awful to live the way you do." The arctic hare opposite him put a paw to his chin, but removed it shortly thereafter. He knew the answer, but phrasing it just so was the important part for him.
"Sometimes, I wonder the same thing. I could go north, where the family's lived for so long. There aren't any giants there, not as far as we know. It would be great--nobody outgrows a good snowball fight either, and I'd be glad to show them what kind of a person I've become." He paused again.
"But I'd have much less to show them." For once, Max seemed genuinely perplexed, if only slightly. "Staying here may well be my calling, I suppose one could say. I just can't leave now--especially not after helping the others get so ahead. A lot of other tinies don't even have any places to go to. I don't want to say they'll struggle without me, but there's nothing to show for my courage, or whatever you want to call it, if I call it quits and leave in the middle of it."
"...Poetic," said Max. "I hadn't thought you one for such a degree of foresight. Or self-consciousness. Either way, I'm glad you feel that way. If I were in your place, I'd have packed up and ditched the place long ago."
"It could just be me being stupid," he laughed, shaking his head. "But I've too much of my life here, even if it is the wrong choice."
"Never know," Max agreed forebodingly.
"Nothing to do but to wait and see, right?"
"Indeed." Rey straightened himself in a stretch, then stood up.
"It's getting a bit late. I'm exhausted," he said suddenly. Max only laid the upper half of his body on the bed and sighed contentedly, hardly acknowledging him.
"The guest bed's past the kitchen. Pleasant dreams and all that. I'll be turning in myself; less than an hour left for me anyway." Rey didn't bother to respond or turn around. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of person his cousin would be like if he weren't so gravely ill. Regardless, he only thought for a few moments before he continued.
Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day.