My name is Max. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theroadwarrior) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-02-03 03:13 am
theroadwarrior) wrote in driftfleet2016-02-03 03:13 am
Entry tags:
A WORD FROM YOUR SPONSORS: TREAT YO' SELF (or don't)
Who: Max Rockatansky
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Starstruck
When: Lately, idk. Today??
[The feed opens up rather oddly, but then, Max almost never posts anything. So that in of itself is weird. The video catches Max wandering back and forth in the cargo bay of the Starstruck — apparently working on some minor damages to one of the shuttles. Likely a piloting gig, considering how much he'd been out of the ship and making chips on the side. He looks like an oil monkey right about now, black grease on his forehead and a general unkempt-ness about him from his time without bothering to trim his hair at all, in any way. Who has time for that crap? Not Max.
He makes a confused sort of sound off the screen, and then stops in front of the table that the feed is streaming from with a... box? It appears to be a new arrival, a confusing thing that Max can't figure out the original delivery time on. The label on it, if you turn your head, appears to say:
TO:MEATHEAD
BUTCHER
MR. SURVIVALIST
PILOT TWO
FOOL
POUTYLIPS
FROM: YOUR SPECIAL SPONSOR!
Max clicks the metallic locks on either side and with a HISSS, the box opens. What could be inside...?! Hell if he knows. He stares unimpressed at the giftbasket crammed full of... particular hygienic products. Shaving cream, razors, body spray, shampoos —]
[The name, of course, is actually just generic, changed just slightly from their Earth counterpart. XES is clearly more sensual than AXE. Not that Max is familiar with any of them anyway, but still. He continues his unimpressed stare as an electronic voice emits from said box. It kind of sounds like SIRI. Also something he is not familiar with.]
"Congratulations on your sponsor gift! Mysterious quiet type, what a sale! Here's a little something on behalf of sponsors watching; maybe a little self-maintenance is just the trick to make the lady viewers—"
[Max calmly shoves the box off the table, out of sight, with a great clatter.]
No.
[Can he get back to work now, that was a waste of his life he's not getting back. If you'll excuse him, he'll be going back to his next line of work: shoving non-perishable cans of food into one of the supply closets with the grim expression of a man who's Lumberjack Slam arrived to his table at Denny's cold. All while continuing — such a rebel — to smell like a sweaty human car engine.]
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Starstruck
When: Lately, idk. Today??
[The feed opens up rather oddly, but then, Max almost never posts anything. So that in of itself is weird. The video catches Max wandering back and forth in the cargo bay of the Starstruck — apparently working on some minor damages to one of the shuttles. Likely a piloting gig, considering how much he'd been out of the ship and making chips on the side. He looks like an oil monkey right about now, black grease on his forehead and a general unkempt-ness about him from his time without bothering to trim his hair at all, in any way. Who has time for that crap? Not Max.
He makes a confused sort of sound off the screen, and then stops in front of the table that the feed is streaming from with a... box? It appears to be a new arrival, a confusing thing that Max can't figure out the original delivery time on. The label on it, if you turn your head, appears to say:
TO:
FROM: YOUR SPECIAL SPONSOR!
Max clicks the metallic locks on either side and with a HISSS, the box opens. What could be inside...?! Hell if he knows. He stares unimpressed at the giftbasket crammed full of... particular hygienic products. Shaving cream, razors, body spray, shampoos —]
[The name, of course, is actually just generic, changed just slightly from their Earth counterpart. XES is clearly more sensual than AXE. Not that Max is familiar with any of them anyway, but still. He continues his unimpressed stare as an electronic voice emits from said box. It kind of sounds like SIRI. Also something he is not familiar with.]
"Congratulations on your sponsor gift! Mysterious quiet type, what a sale! Here's a little something on behalf of sponsors watching; maybe a little self-maintenance is just the trick to make the lady viewers—"
[Max calmly shoves the box off the table, out of sight, with a great clatter.]
No.
[Can he get back to work now, that was a waste of his life he's not getting back. If you'll excuse him, he'll be going back to his next line of work: shoving non-perishable cans of food into one of the supply closets with the grim expression of a man who's Lumberjack Slam arrived to his table at Denny's cold. All while continuing — such a rebel — to smell like a sweaty human car engine.]
Re: [ video ]
I'm sure you could trade it in for something else you'd find useful.
[ video ]
Better to have money than extra supplies.
[I HAVE WATER THAT'S GOOD ENOUGH TO CLEAN WITH.
People around here have stupid priorities, Obi-Wan. Stupid.]
Re: [ video ]
Surely some of it is useful. What did they give you?
[ video ]
Could be worth enough to someone on board.
Re: [ video ]
[ video ]
[... He raises an eyebrow, looking at Obi-Wan's beard.]
This apply to you? Trading?
Re: [ video ]
[ video ]
Five credits for a bottle.
[Seems legit enough.]
Give you most of it for 20.
[WHICH IS A HELLA DEAL.]
Re: [ video ]
Then, my good sir, you have a deal. Do I need to come over to your ship to collect?
[ video ]
Mmm... You're on that mess of a ship.
[MAX KEEPS TABS.]
Should probably come here to the Starstruck. It's... quieter.
[See, he's doing you a solid.]
Re: [ video ]
Not that it matters. ]
Then I will be there post-haste, if you don't mind. Or would you like to come some other time?
[ video ]
[......... That means 'sure yes come by'.]
[ action ]
For now though, Obi-Wan finds himself on the Starstruck. He doesn't know Max personally, but the Force allows him to pick up on his signature, leading him straight to the man in question. ]
[ action ]
But Max is, despite himself, an aura of good.
He is also... the weird fella closing up the panel he's working on, on one of the shuttles he takes to and from the FS Starlight. As Obi-Wan approaches, Max wipes his greasy, blackened hands off on a rag and gives a slight nod toward the table.]
They're all over there. On the table.
[He wanders over with his signature hobble, just the slightest and only obvious because of the solid, straight floor; usually he's in sand and rocky terrain, and it's not quite so prominent. The brace eliminates a lot of that.
Though, when you look at him over all, he looks like a real piece of work.]Re: [ action ]
Are you sure you don't want to keep any of it?
[ action ]
... Yes, very sure. He hums thoughtfully, scrubbing at the beginnings of a beard. Still not as intense as Obi-Wan's, but no doubt the precursor to a wicked cool one.]
Seems like a waste of time and energy.
Re: [ action ]
How so? We're not lacking in time here.
[ action ]
Soon, he'll be heading right back out there. No rest for the wicked, you know.]
Never know when time'll start lacking. Peace comes in small doses. Short-lived.
M'supposed to go back out and keep preparing the ship for the worst.
[In many ways, all paranoid as fuck.]
Re: [ action ]
[ Though it sounds like a depressing way to live - waiting for the next terrible thing to happen. ]
What do you think might happen?
[Action.]
Just about anything.
Mostly likely'd be... raiders. People out there ready to take what's ours.
Or, mmm. Atroma getting sick of our current, ah... rosters. Cutting us off. Torture. Could stop sending food. They already don't supply enough room. It'd be easy for them.
Re: [Action.]
[ He won't deny it or be blind to it. They do live under the Atroma's whims. ]
Have you managed to come up with plans for all of these scenarios?
[Action.]
Can't prepare for everything, but. Mm. Filling up on supplies in the supply compartments. Water, food. There's enough to keep the crew alive for a few weeks, if we spread it very thin.
Re: [Action.]
I'm sure Ahsoka appreciates such thoroughness.
[Action.]
Not sure why she would.
[He had. Actually sent Ahsoka off after giving her his well-paying gig.
He motions at the supplies.]
Selling her some of this when she comes back.
[So. You know. Don't take it all.]
Re: [Action.]
[ He claims some shaving cream and a razor. He then scrummages for a couple of credits and hands them out to Max. ]