Text. stuck in the middle with you.

[theroadwarrior]

Who: Max Rockatansky
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Starstruck
When: Today, for a short little glitch post.
(Also warning for some serious death talk in a thread below.)

[Max doesn't ask for a lot in life. Food of some kind so he doesn't starve. Water so he doesn't have to drink questionable things when its not there. A lack of ultra violence or cannibals. You know. Typical things. And he's been pretty good about behaving himself, keeping out of the way, not having any issues to speak of.

And then shit like this happens.

He's fiddling around at the little desk in the cargo bay when something peculiar happens. His screwdriver sticks to his hand. And no, he's been very hygienic, thank you — more so than usual — so there's really just one reason this is happening. He realizes it about when the empty tea cup on the desk also moves to stick to his arm.

Glitch.

So it goes. His time on the Starstruck the next few days are terribly bleak for him. See: the multitude of things that have somehow find a strange pulling gravity around him. It's not metal, really, it's anything. He's a Katamari character, and things just sort of fly and stick and he has to pry them off with way too much force necessary. Or they just fall off. In the kitchen, a plate falls off him at last, but shatters on the ground.

At one point, he just stays in the chair he's at, because if he stands up... Well...

It's stuck to his ass.

Records, hair pins, food (ugh), anything people leave behind...

And yes, people. People also stick to him.

This is the literal worst day of his life. Obviously. All the trauma that came before this is nothing.]


don't keep anything sharp or explosive on the starstruck right now.

might need remedies for nagging captains soon.



still tempted to saw the augment out of my neck sometimes.

[Video] [From the Marivisa] [Public to the Fleet]

[timelysteward]

[The first angle you see of the phone screen is, strangely enough, looking up at one of the ceilings of the Marivisa. Out of the corner of the screen, you can the edge of a shelf, or perhaps a desk. Slowly peering over the edge, you can see a small, Baroque style clock.

Which has eyes. And a mouth. And it's two hands twitch on the side of his small mechanical face like whiskers. You cannot believe you can make this out, but yes, it does in fact look like the clock is scowling downwards.

Then sighing. Rather dramatically, at that. Then the clock disappears. There is the sound of wood scuffling across metal, then a 'Careful Cogsworth, careful waaaugh!', and the sound of a crash as something wooden slips off of something plastic and then down to something hard. Like the metal floor.

After a moment, the phone is tilted back up into the clock's face, and it growls at all of you in an impossibly posh British accent.]

I don't know where I am. I don't know where this is. I don't know what is happening. But whatever It is? It is somehow Lumiere's fault!