Maxwell stared at the pencil, his eyes narrowed in concentration, his chin resting on the palm of his hand as he leaned on the arm of the chair. Nothing was happening. He was still not entirely convinced that anything should be happening. Perhaps he needed to be clearer with his intentions. Perhaps vagueness was a barrier to progress in a situation like this. He tried to clear his mind of additional thoughts and form a clear mental image of what he wanted to happen. Which had no visible effect that he was able to discern. He sighed to himself and sat upright, walking over to the window of the classroom and staring down at the yard. It was empty save for one of two people rushing toward the gate.

At first he had been worried about practising in a public place like a classroom but as it turned out he needn't have worried. If anyone had seen him practising they had kept it to themselves, though it was far more likely that they just blanked it out from their minds. It must have a natural response to the unexplainable. He guessed that until recently he had been exactly the same, his mind closed off from the truth of the world. The truth of the world? The thought made him inwardly cringe at his own egotistical notion that he was now somehow special. Beyond his fellow humans. Now he was angry at himself. Better? Beyond? Then why did he feel so diminished as of late?

Maxwell sighed again and shook his head, stuffing his hands deeply into his jacket pockets. He decided to try a slightly different approach. Behind him the sound of pencil on paper was suddenly audible. There was no point in turning around to confirm what he already knew to be true. The pencil was writing on the paper as if gripped by an invisible hand. He closed his eyes in thought. So it was not a matter of concentration but desire? In fact desire seemed far more important than the intention itself. And it got easier each time as well, more natural and that worried him. He had no idea why.

He turned around and looked down at the paper. The invitation was still there next to the sheet of paper that he had been practising on. He stared at it in silence for a moment before deciding to give it a chance. In all honesty what was the worst that could happen? He walked past the desk and stuffed the invitation into his jacket pocket and pulled his hood up over his head as he walked out of the empty classroom. The pencil sat motionless on the desk. The potted plant on the teachers desk was dead and withered up. It had been alive when he had entered.

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Maxwell found his way to the meeting point easily enough. It was dark and unpleasant looking. It lacked life. Or spirit. Or whatever it is that places come to lack over time when left to idle. Even with all the people already present it felt unwelcoming somehow. The lack of light made him a little more relaxed about the whole situation though. It felt appropriate somehow. [b]“Charming,”[/b] he said more to himself than to anyone in particular. A cupcake had found its way into his hand despite him having not been anywhere near them. He took a bite and paused for a moment before carrying on chewing without comment. [b]“So, what exactly do you want?”[/b] he said before taking another bite.