"Excuse me if I'm still gettin' used to being magically transported places, sex dungeons or no," Maxwell grumbles with a dismissive wave of his hand, after nearly jumping out of his skin at the unexpected addition of another person's voice behind him. When he turns to face the source of the sound, Maxwell notes that the woman who's joined him cuts an imposing figure, indeed. Fortunately, Moira seems like she's here to be snide rather than attack him, which is good. Condescension is something he can handle.

He also notes the lack of mark on her throat. He's just newly arrived, but checking for it is already second nature.

"I'm a cotton man, myself. Less static and cheap to replace," Maxwell answers with a shrug, like it matters. But since Moira seems to be as unhappy with their predicament as he is, maybe they'll be able to work together. Just as he's about to suggest teaming up to bust out of the joint, he notices a little placard with what looks to be steps of written instructions. Like this is... a game. As it's closer to Moira, he gestures towards it.

"You see that?"