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.]
no subject
HANDS ARE FOR REACHING OUT MAN.
He shrugs casually at the question.]
Well. You should. I mean, you did claim it was your body, right? That kind of declaration of ownership means you should take some pride in what you've got.
no subject
But it's not like he sees it as a necessity. Or valuable.]
Pride is a dangerous emotion to have.
Got more important things to focus on.
no subject
Oh, you so do not have anything more important to focus on.
no subject
You aware your bank account's frozen on this station?
[Do you even know there is a station, sir.]
Better off working to make the currency. Stocking the ship with non-perishables. Arming the shuttles. Should do something with yourself.
no subject
Doing what kind of work to make money?
no subject
[He's so elegant and helpful.]
no subject
C'mon. What else. Stocking only takes so long. Shuttles only need to be armored once. What else are you doing with your time that you can't do a little manscaping?
no subject
I pilot ships and vehicles in the station.
[You moron.]
You done? Go do something. Get a barber job, if you obsess about body hair.
[AAAAND DISCONNECTED.]
no subject
ANSWER HIM ANYWAY. Because he's calling back.]
no subject
He tosses his comm unit over his shoulder and gets back to work on the shuttle.]
...ACTION gdit (i'm sorry)
Sooo, he's just going to mosey on down to these shuttles you're talking about. Don't worry though, he's sure to keep a healthy out of punching or wrench swinging range when he does arrive.]
So I was thinking. How about a partner? You can show me the ropes.
ACTION (goddammit fdr)
No.
[bzzrt, bzzzzrt, bzzzrt.
Looks good. Now he just has to readjust the controls, and he can get it back out there to do little odd jobs. Stupid thieves, trying to hijack his cargo. It's good that he managed to do the drop-off proper. They'd warned him proper that people wanted their mitts on it, but he expected as much already...
...
...
Oh yeah, FDR's still here.]
Not how I work.
Aaaand operation annoy the hell out of is a go
[And there's a pause before he takes a step closer to look over NotTuck's shoulder-still out of elbowing range.]
Or I guess I can just hang out and chat while you work instead.
[That is every bit the threat it sounds like, dude.]
1/2
The ropes.
[Max glowers, defeat etched into his expression. Ropes are better than chat, right? What an annoying pest — and it's clear he has no intentions of letting up. With that in mind Max cracks his neck and moves toward the shuttle. He walks a bit closer, though, motioning FDR backward.]
But — [HUFF] Stay out of my space.
[Okay? Okay. Cool. He walks back toward the shuttle again, perhaps for tools.]
2/2
............. Ah. He also closed the shuttle doors.
And locked them.
......................
......................
It's locked.]
no subject
Round one in your favor, Nottuck.
He moves over to the shuttle and knocks on the window.]
We'll continue this later then. [And you see this grin, max? Yeah. This is the grin that's going to be coming by every single day.]
no subject
He's going to end up fistfighting him again real soon.
...
Max leans back in the chair for a nap.]
no subject
But seriously, he's coming back tomorrow.]
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You've got to play a little harder to get, Foster.
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Do me a favour and try not to push too many of his buttons.
[ she won't say 'please', but... ]
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Yeah. Okay. I'll try to behave. But only because I like you.
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