[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/W7Gzyjm.png[/img] [b]Eru Iluvatar / The New Yorker Collaboration[/b][/center] Within the shorter part of a blink Blackagar was gliding through the length of the throne room, only half way between where he started and where Maximus stood. The quickness of the noir-minded Maximus was just as keen as Blackagar’s reflexes. Just as the darting Bolt was set to deliver a pounding blow crimson locks were wrapped around his neck. They squeezed and jolted him back into a laying position. Blackagar peered behind him, hands grasping at the follicled chokehold, and saw Medusa, eyes like saucers of light, restraining him with her powerful abilities. [i]Mind control.[/i] The thought rang out in Blackagar’s mind, as clearly as his brother’s menacing laughter, which even now echoed so clearly against the throne room walls. The mad chortling mixed with the fits and groans into a macabre cacophony. “He’s probably better off dead, isn’t he dear?” Maximus asked with a casual bite. Medusa’s glowing orbs only stared at him, then focused back on Blackagar as she focused on tightening her hold. Blackagar was slowly pulled along the slick Titanium floors. The hold contracted then constricted, flowed then pulled. It was like a tightening maze of hair, and no matter how much leeway Blackagar felt he might have, he could never find the end of it all. If he freed his hand, he was still choked and his torso was still being squeezed. Blackagar felt the life slipping from him, and he knew that he had only one choice, one chance. Just before the crimson hair swallowed him whole Blackagar focused all of his harnessed energy. “Wait…” Maximus began, extending his hand. Before he could say more, an invisible force broke through the mound of hair, shocking Medusa’s entire system and forcing her into a seizure. The force continued, however, outward and struck Maximus with equal, yet physical force. His body flung against the ceiling and got caught on a rafter. Blood seeped from a cut on his head down onto the royal chamber floor. Blackagar was then able to free himself from the now limp strands of hair. He turned in time to see the closing stages of Medusa’s minor seizure. She seemed fine, but the conceivable damage to her brain was invisible. When Blackagar looked toward where he imagined Maximus to be, he witnessed his semi unconscious brother floating to the floor safely. Some sort of antigravity device more than likely. Blackagar trotted up to his brother and grabbed him by the collar of his ripped silk blouse. He inspected the nasty wound on Maximus’ head, then brought his brother up to eye level. Maximus could still see the look on his kin’s face clearly through the haze of his concussion. A pang of horror shook through his entire body as he received the words through Blackagar’s talkative eyes. “You’re better off dead, aren’t you dear?” [center]-[/center] Gorgon's footsteps carried weight, in both a physical and a psychological way. As a known and respected figure of the Inhuman hierarchy, he could go where he wished and do what he liked. His Terrigen influenced ability also affected his feet, or rather - his hooves. The otherwordly mists had twisted his once human feet into large goat-like hooves that spewed out dark fur from the ankle up and were coated in a sleek black substance from the ankle down. They were also capable of producing kinetic shockwaves - seismic occurrences of ample destruction that would knock most anyone of their feet, and depending on Gorgon's anger to fuel it - could destroy structures of any size. Thus Gorgon remembered to tread lightly, and monitor his temperament in combat situations. He was striding down a regally decorated corridor, adjacent to the royal throne room in which King Maximus held his seat, when a desperate mental outcry burrowed through the wall to surround him completely. He sensed invisible tendrils, ever changing and morphing, twisting through each other to effectively form an enmeshed net of strong mental commands. Gorgon stumbled back in shock, momentarily forgetting his anger inhibitions. The paintings on the wall thrashed about after suffering Gorgon's kinetic vibrations. The large Inhuman could not escape from the all encompassing tendrils, and despite the headpiece he constantly wore that had the ability to fend off telepathic attacks, this particular assault was overpowering from it's urgent strike and power to back it. Gorgon sprawled out on the floor, yet fought vigorously until the tendrils took him. Instantly a frantic command reverberated through his helpless mind. [i]To the throne room! Attack Black Bolt! Defend your King![/i] Gorgon stood with lightning speed, and began running toward the archway a little further down the corridor. The paintings fell and shattered as he ran. [center]-[/center] Blackagar glanced at the doorway across the expanse of the throne room, and a hulking shadow flickered on the wall as the thundering foot steps got closer and closer. Suddenly the space in and between the archway was filled with steel, and cloth, and fur and flesh. It took Blackagar a moment to understand what he was looking at. The proportions were all wrong for a normal man. Within that confusion Blackagar lost his hold on Maximus, who jumped out of the way and began crawling back to the copper elevator. The mass was coming closer, but shrouded in the shadows of the ill lit room. Some pivotal electrical wiring must have been cut during Blackagar's exchange with his brother, and so the primary source of light was from the vibrant sea water above and around them. Blackagar searched his mind for the faces of the royal family. This wasn't Karnak, nor was it the aquatic Triton. Horn's glistened in the light and Blackagar could remember the lineage, finally. Son of Korath, brother of Agon, father of Blackagar. [i]Cousins.[/i] Blackagar managed to hold onto a horn as he was pressed into, his legs being lifted off of the ground and his torso pounded by this young man's shoulder. Even as Blackagar went crashing through his rightful throne he tried to retrieve this cousin's name. Blocking frightful elbow shots and hammering fists Blackagar could feel the name on the tip of his tongue. As the beast lifted himself, to try and release Blackagar's hold on his head, the more dexterous cousin was able to free himself from a grapple and climb over onto his back. A few strikes was all he could manage before he was thrown. Blackagar had a moment to collect himself after he rolled from the toss. He noticed his gloves were ripped, and so tore them off. Maximus was inching closer to the elevator. As the hoofed and horned man readied for another charge a flash of inspiration came to Blackagar. And with it a name: Gorgon.