open action | ADVENTURES ON ICY PLANETS

[theroadwarrior]

Who: Max Rockatansky & Whoever is willing to bump into him.
Broadcast: N/A.
Action: The planet Arslae.
When: January 1st — January 8th.

ACTION A.

[Max gets off the SS Starstruck very quickly — he thrives on open space, needs the natural world around him, even if it's a frozen land that he's unfamiliar with. Snow and ice is bizarre; thanks to the landscape he was from — the radioactivity, the climate issues, all of it, he's never witnessed it at all firsthand. Doesn't even know where to really begin. Armed with a rather intimidating kitchen knife wrapped up and carefully hidden on his person, he bundles up and treks into the thick of it. Admittedly — and a rare occurrence — he finds his curiosity curves his caution just enough for the task.

It's like a dog or a cat being thrown into the middle of a snowy backyard. He tests the earth, quirks his brows when his legs sink deeper and deeper into the flurry. Almost reminds him of quicksand, only there's still the solid sensation of earth underfoot.

Careful Max, wouldn't wanna get slurped in, a young voice chimes in. He can't place it exactly, but it's not Glory. He's seen and heard so many children die in his life out there in the Wastelands, he couldn't begin to guess who it could be. He grumbles under breath and slips his fingers into the snow, forming a snowball in hand. Strangely, it feels like the natural reaction to snow. Heavy when compacted, holds shape unlike sand. The voice keeps knocking on the inside of his skull, slipping through the folds of his brain, tickling his eardrum.

Max. Max... Come find me, Max. Help me, Max—

He sees the shadow of a ghost in his peripheral and throws the snowball in its direction.

Mostly out of relaxed irritation. He's used to the sounds of the dead.

But sorry if you're actually standing there.]

ACTION B.

[Max lingers around a bit closer than he'd usually stay, near the bonfires. He's nowhere near close enough to be brightly lit or partake in any of the good will or hospitality, but he's at least close enough in the background to leech a small amount of the warmth while he sits and starts slowly packing up a pack made of hide that he'd bought with the limited money he had. He supposes that's one small upside to being on a 'show'.

But he's also unfamiliar with using a real form of currency nowadays. So that's strange.

The biggest foe he's faced so far here, however, is his knee. He sits away from the others and suffers in silence, unbuckling part of his brace and moving it so that he can knead the aching scarred, stiff joint with his hand. He's not unused to it hurting sometimes, considering the inside of his knee is a mess of tissue and rough bone. But that's in the desert, where the sun rose — inevitably as it did — on the coldest of nights, and the aching would stop while he could bask in harsh sun like a lizard on a rock.

Here, it's a constant nagging. A little chiming bell of nerves that fight their own body. He doesn't like it. He chews the inside of his cheek, expressive only in the lines of pain forming at the edges of his eyes, near the creases of his mouth, beneath his slight beard. Maybe he'll look into medications, since this world may have them. His, not so much. It is a rarity, medical care. He's learned plenty in looking after himself.]

ACTION C.

[One may find him hunting, but he's surprisingly with a group of natives. It's not that he wants the company — he just wants to barter, to get things in return for staying in motion. It's really quite simple: you live, you move, you keep your supplies well-maintained. In exchange for using their weapons and going on the hunt with them, he'll earn salted meats from their supply. It's interesting for him to see such simple measures taken on a planet with some surprising technology. Then again, home had some interesting machinery of its own, for how broken the system was.

Maybe you're out there with this group. They're going after mostly easy game, but they're bound to run into the less pleasant sort of monster out here. Until then, Max plays it simple, opting to stay in the back of the group and reply only when he's needed. He's a man of few words, always has been, always will be.

But... this sort of thing keeps his wandering and fractured mind on track.

He sneezes into his sleeve, tightens up the jacket and scarf he has tucked into his collar, and pushes forward.

His mind is blissfully silent.]

ACTION D. (STARSTRUCK)

[Max hauls what he's given back to the ship in one of the small shuttles. He supposes this is where it's a good thing he's a pilot — it's not completely effortless, but it's like working an old atrophied limb, and he comes to find that he actually enjoys the trips back and forth more than he'd admit to anyone. Just having something to drive... wheels or not... it's good.

He brings back both raw and dried meats, most of which he tries to discreetly stock the kitchen of the Starstruck with. He's not one to share his things — anyone can tell that by how he carries everything he owns on him, in his pack — but he's also aware that the struggle for food here is not-so-woefully absent in comparison to the planet he had just been on, before joining the fleet.

It's not an easy thing to shake. Sharing. It's not in his nature anymore. But you know, going against your nature is okay, from time to time. After all, he's usually a scavenging buzzard himself. A vulture picking off the old world. For now, he'll try to play along.

He tries to leave the place as fast as he'd arrived, of course.

He hasn't picked a bunk, a place to sleep; he hasn't made a place for himself here yet.]

Comments

A!

[flickerflash]

[Wow RUDE. Luckily his aim is a bit off, or Katie's reflexes are just good enough that the snowball misses her face by a hair. Certainly it didn't veer off course very slightly at the last moment. She looks a bit surprised, right before her gaze sweeps across the area and then she turns her scowl on Max.]

It's not very nice to attack little girls, you know. We're meant to throw snowballs at you.

[theroadwarrior]

[Max's head snaps to the side as he looks at her — the voice is different, not exactly Glory, but his mind never plays fair with him. He narrows his eyes in her direction, vision shaking in a fit of disorientation. Sometimes it happens. Sometimes there are faces inches from his, or he wakes up gasping from hands ripping at his face. Glory is playing tricks on him. He ignores her and turns away, not acknowledging her at all.

But the echoes around him, ah. They're there. Weird discombobulating pieces, ghosts phantoming in and out of the air around him. They utter his name sometimes, ask for help others. Some of the sounds break the barrier and burrow into his head. Glory wanders through the snow behind Max, looking pleased even in her sparse clothing.

Max mumbles under his breath, tucking his scarf in a little.

Child, what child.]

[flickerflash]

[Hmm. Ignored by overgrown grumpy man with a whole pack of ghostly victims following him around. She could do this the mature way. It's entirely possible he's mad as a hatter and assumed she wasn't real, given she knows very well who he was throwing that snow at to begin with. She could say I'm real, you know.

But that would be the truth (mostly) and she doesn't like being ignored and it's a lot less fun.

Than, say.

Pitching a snowball hard at the back of his head.]

B;

[ino]

[ Ino's just passing by, bundled up appropriately for the weather and with a bag of fresh meat in hand to take back to the ship. But -- being the medic that she is, she can't help but stop and notice the attention he's giving his own knee. After a moment of consideration, she abandons the path back to her on ship to approach him. ]

Are you all right? [ She'll shift the bag and her long ponytail over her shoulder, looking down at his knee for any signs of current injury, before she looks back up to his face. ] An old injury flaring up, maybe?

[theroadwarrior]

[Not often that he hears those words directed toward him, but you've gotta understand — the place he's from, you're just expected to be in pain at some point, in some way. You see sometime hurting on a street, you just continue on, because they know and you know there's nothing to be done with it that hasn't already been tried. So he almost doesn't even realize it's being directed for him, if not for the fact that he's distanced himself from the crowd enough as it is.

He glances over to her. Her colors remind him faintly of Dag.]

... M'fine.

[It's universally used whether he's fine or not, mostly. He drops his hand from the throbbing knee.

... And then he remembers to try to be social, by just a fraction. Courtesy of his time on the Tranquility, and then again on the planet before the fleet.]

Old wound, it'll pass.

[ino]

[ Unfortunately for Max, not only does Ino have plenty of independent loner dude friends who don't need no man/woman, but she's also very perceptive. And when those two things come together, it pretty much means trouble for anyone who likes their space and alone time. ]

You should let someone check it out -- chronic pain isn't something you need to tough it out for, especially with access to everything we have on the ships.

Do you have a lab support person or a doctor on your ship? If not, I could have a look, see if there's anything I could do to help.

C

[alwayscomeback]

[Sokka's been spending a lot of his time hunting. It brings fresh meat to the Blue Fish, for one thing. That's important. Mostly, he does it because it reminds him of home. Like nothing weird has gone on in his life, like he hasn't been stuck in space for over a year.

He smiles over at the man accompanying them, definitely not a native. ]

Hey. How;re you finding the snow?

[theroadwarrior]

[He glances over at the young face, so much more friendly than Max is. Or anyone Max knows is. Nux the warboy was the closest to come to mind, right now — though he happens to remember a gyro captain from a distant time with a kind of counterbalance to Max's aloofness.

He adjusts the gun in his hands, more rested where it hangs on his shoulder.

Max isn't much of a talker, you know, but he'll give it the ol' Rockatansky go.]

Cold.

[... Yeah, you hear that dry humor, he has his moments.]

[alwayscomeback]

[Such dry humour. Sokka doesn't let that stop him, he's the master of sarcasm. He leans in, whispering conspiratorially. ]

I hear a good cure for that is more layers.

C

[lostthebet]

[Cayde is finding fewer hunting groups willing to take him in, because he has a tendancy of haring off on his own with whatever supplies they'd lent him. He's trying to stick with this one to build up at least a little bit of goodwill, but it's hard; Hunters from his world aren't exactly known as Team Players.]

[To help keep himself distracted, he finds what looks like the least talkative dude and hangs back, striking up a conversation. It should be pretty obvious he likes to hear himself talk.]

I've been in the wilds but, maaaaaaan, they were nothing like this. There's like, not even a speck of civilization. Of course, I usually kept to areas where I could scavenge useful stuff and let's face it; sticks ain't gunna do a ship much good, yeah? yeah? [He chuckles at his own joke and nudges his elbow at Max] But man, if I'd have known it was this picturesque I might have popped off for a vacation or two.

cayde please

[theroadwarrior]

[Max stares forward through Cayde's entire talk, looking more and more exasperated behind the firmly-set line of his mouth. He frankly looks like he wants to shoot himself. Please. Please. And then the guy goes and nudges at him, and it's pretty much this situation being reenacted out here. He gives the man a glance that is half murderous and half disgruntled.

He's thinking about walking in a curve, putting a few feet of distance between the two of them.

you talk so much he doesn't know how to handle this overload]

I don't care.

[What he doesn't care about, you figure out.]

please means keep going right?

[lostthebet]

[If Cayde notices the hostile looks, he doesn't show it. As a matter of fact he has noticed, and just ... chooses to ignore it and continue to power through.]

I got it, not a nature guy, huh? In it for the hunt. I can relate to that! There's definitely a thrill of the chase you don't get stuck up in the ships. I used to do this sorta thing all the time. Not against wild animals, though; I was hunting things a little more dangerous. And sentient. The Hive really kept us busy.

Oh fine E then

[mikangirl]

[The only reason Nami is out here at all is because Kirito's assisted tour of the ice temple awakened a curiosity for looking at others in the nearby vicinity. At the moment, though, she's kind of regretting it, and regretting even more that there doesn't seem to be any kind of transportation other than just walking places for people like her.

None that she'd pay through the nose for, anyway. Screw that.

She's trying to keep her mind off the cold on the slow, frigid trudge back to the ships by practising the draw of her new staff-- three pieces, just wood, won't bring showers or lightning or wind (or heat, goddammit), but this is what she started with and she feels less vulnerable having even the basics. Draw, snap it together. Fumble. Try again. Etcetera, etcetera. It's weird getting used to the difference in weight all over again.

She's almost got it down to a fine art, though, by the time she sees the dark figure out in the middle of a wide clearing, and she slows to see if he's someone she knows.

...that new guy, isn't it?]

[theroadwarrior]

[Max will not say at all, nor with any confidence, that he's familiar with this terrain. You won't find him saying he can handle it entirely on his own — it's a learning process, and some of the natives have endured his odd and often guarded personality to give him some advice. He has nothing to trade it for other than his services with a gun, but that'll do. He's only out now to scan the area, maybe look for any other potential animals to hunt down. He's been allowed their weaponry for the time he's on the planet — his assistance has proven useful enough that he's a bit more social than the average Rockatansky is wont to do.

It's fine until the rather hefty creature that Max can't at all identity leaps out from the brush, flying past Max and stomping down across the hard ground. And as Max whirls around to aim and fire, he feels that same earth give in a little. It cracks.

He looks down, surprised, and finds that it's splintering beneath him. A spider web runs through what he thought was the ground, revealed slowly to be a layer of frozen water over what is likely a small lake. He scarcely breathes, slowly slinging the rifle back around his shoulder.

A step forward makes it splinter a bit more. He freezes.

He's lost in thought of how to proceed without falling in and dying of the chill — he can swim, right? He thinks he can swim. Yes. Not very well, but he can. The problem really is the cold killing him.

Aaaand that's around where Nami comes in. Not that Max is focusing much on anything other than the way the ice makes an awful crackling noise.]

[mikangirl]

[Nami hasn't spent a lot of time in icy climates-- the godawful cracking sound she hears first has her look up, assuming there was a tree branch falling. It takes a few moments for her to realise, in process of elimination, what's actually going on. Clearing between the trees. Cracking. Frozen over.

Then she's sprinting down towards him, calling out urgently. He's just standing there--]

Hey! [This is why you need to give your name, jerk. She stops where the tree line breaks, because no way are they both going in. Hopefully not either of them. Up closer, she can see the ice splintering in jagged lines away from Max, slow enough that she hopes--]

Flatten yourself against the ice! Spread your weight out!

D!

[resnipstance]

[Ahsoka smells the meat instantaneously. She doesn't have a predator's ancestry for nothing. But more than that-- she senses Max coming and then going again. She's taken time to get to learn the feel of all her crewmates, should they ever get lost. But the new arrival is curiously difficult to get ahold of-- both in the Force, and in person.

She's sick of trying to track this guy down. This time, she's going to do it. She bolts out of her pilot's chair and-- on instinct, decides not to head to where she thinks he'll be, but rather... where she thinks he's going. If his previous patterns have taught her anything, it's that he tends to go as fast as he's arrived.

So she heads to the shuttle he docked instead. She can cut him off there. And that's how Max will find her-- waiting for him in the shuttle, feeling fairly pleased with herself.]

[theroadwarrior]

[Max is confident he's getting out of there, too, sheesh.

He appears with a swift but uneven gait, coming to a stop from his sneaking off by the woman who is — sitting in his shuttle, and he has to a.) remind himself that it's not entirely his, no matter how much his mind pings the word mine, and b.) sigh and look completely unhappy that she's there and blocking his escape.

He boards it slowly, apprehension in the way he moves, and sits slowly in the seat.]

What.

[He can tell you want something from him. Or you were at least looking for him.

He'd think she's an odd person to look at, but he's from the wasteland, and there are a lot weirder to see out there than Ahsoka. Strangely. Radioactivity's a bitch.]

( D )

[housepartyprotocol]

[ Unfortunately for Max, he doesn't manage to escape the kitchen without notice. Just as he's exiting, Tony walks in and opens a pantry, now filled with meat. He raises an eyebrow at it and turns to Max. ]

Any idea what this is the meat of? Space is seriously making me consider vegetarianism.

[theroadwarrior]

[Max's thought's fly to something that could be translated as: Oh great, someone who thinks they have an appealing sense of humor. He turns toward the man with a disinterested look before he packs away the last of the meat he'd brought in, wrapped carefully by one of the butchers on the planet.]

Doesn't matter. It's meat — you eat it for protein and enjoy that it's not shit and you can cook it.

[He's a charmer.]

D

[notmutantbutmiracle]

[Wanda will come to inspect the noise of someone rummaging around in the Starstruck's kitchen. She's greeted by a man that she doesn't recall having met yet, who appears to be trying to cram as much animal meat he can into whatever storage he can find. Odd... She'll stand in the doorway of the kitchen, a bit cautious of this scraggly-looking man.]

You sure you have enough dead animal meat there?

[theroadwarrior]

[Gosh darn it people don't walk in when he's stopping by. >:^|

Max whips around to look at her, looking for a moment like someone with their hand in the cookie jar — as if depositing food for the ship in general is something to be red-handed and troubled by. But then just as quickly he paints on that little brow furrow and rubs the back of his neck, putting away the last of the food. Everything about his body posture screams that he wants to walk right out without so much as a word to her.

But he's been... trying.

So he clears his throat.]

Better than most of what they give us.

[He's trying really hard not to be 100% horrible to talk to but he still looks like he'd wrestle your supplies off you before he'd sit and have a lovely chat, okay.]

A

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[and that's how Robin, who was actually minding his own business, got pelted on the side of the head with a snowball. the force tips him right over, as he was crouched on the balls of his feet, and he plops sideways into the snow with near-boneless surrender.

he lays there, half-buried for a second or two. maybe he's dead.]

...That's fine...

[or maybe he's just overdramatic.]

[theroadwarrior]

[... Huh. That's not how ghosts usually work for him.

But then, that doesn't look like a familiar haunting of the brainmeat, s'far as he remembers.

He steps forward toward the muttering body. He's assuming its still alive, because dying from a snowball would be the most pathetic way he's ever seen a man die. After a pregnant pause looking at the overdramatic lump, he... prods it with his foot.]

D

[lord_wizard]

[Max's presence, or lack thereof, on the Starstruck has largely passed Felix's notice, as many things tend to. However, the appearance of a stockpile of meat in the ship's larder does not. He misses the drop, but as he stares at the new inventory suspiciously, wondering if Atroma were somehow responsible, he hears the sound of Max's attempt at a hasty exit.]

Wait a moment!

[He hurries after the man]

[theroadwarrior]

[oh gdit how many people live on this ship

He doesn't appreciate the hasty tailing going on here — he spins on his heel when he realizes someone is following quite literally after, his hand drifting quickly to where his knife is hidden in his jacket. But it's only a precaution. It's just... if they're the only ones current aboard and not on the planet, which could be a possibility, then it gives too easy of an opportunity to strike.

It doesn't have to be entirely logical to Max. Just possible.

The look he shoots at the man as he arrives is by no means a kind one. More like someone who is edging around a dangerous world with all but his blood to his name.]

What?