first one to make that doctor who joke loses

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Who: Everyone! All of you!
Broadcast: Maybe!
Action: Definitely!
When: Anytime during the toxic moon event!

---

[boy oh boy, isn't everyone just so excited to explore this... charming... place...?

this is a game-wide mingle and the timeframe isn't super-important, so throw in with whatever you want! play war games, go shopping for gas masks, get lost in the wilderness, hide up in the Iskaulit and refuse to set foot on the moon, anything goes.

here's the main event info post for reference! have fun!]

Comments

[mucked]

Fuel. Yes -- and what else will we be needing?

[ the playful jolt in her voice recedes, now, as she considers more practical matters. peggy had seen a significant bump in her credit account, lately. doubtless because of the little peaks of high-drama she'd weathered. loss, and gain. hot and angry tears cried in private over a man she might never see again. ]

I've been to the markets. Hardly any food worth purchasing, even if the price was half what they ask for.

[theroadwarrior]

[He looks back out from the jeep, shutting the hood. Until he gets an engine in, there's not much else that can be done. Which he notes with some disappointment. Turns out, spending hours on the car meant... fixing any issues that he could be working on later. Oops. He rubs his hands on his shirt.]

I bought one extra mask. But we should stock up on a full collection.

Never know when we'd need that again.

[mucked]

I see you're actually using one, now.

[ she speaks with the mildest of approval. ]

[theroadwarrior]

[He nearly pouts with his eyes, shrugging haplessly.]

Needed to see f'm toxic, too.

It's easier to navigate when you're simillar to the scenery.

[mucked]

Less easy to navigate when you're dead. [ flinty, but ultimately on his side. there's a new quality, lately, to her jabs. they're less exploratory and far more...familial. hard, but warm. ]

[theroadwarrior]

Mm, well, I'll let you know when that happens.

[He does hate that tone in some ways. Hates how nice it is. But he also likes it today -- it's a good day, a simple one, and his mind feels tacked on right. And as ashamed as he partly feels for it... He thrives well here. Better than he did on the Starlight.

He closes up the tool box and wipes his hands one last time, not getting all the oil off in one swipe, but it's enough.]

.... Um. Hungry?

[Now that he's stopped moving so much... He kinda really is.]

[mucked]

Certainly. [ a stiff nod, though it's mostly obscured by the mask. ] Though only if you're agreeing to accompany me back to the ship for lunch. I won't be exposing myself to this air unless absolutely necessary.

[theroadwarrior]

Mm. The ship.

[Come on, Peggy, he's not that oblivious. He knows you'd go green as a goblin out here in too short of a time. And he'd rather not have you vomit up your meal and pin it on him (because he has enough women judging him in his life). He nods toward the direction of the ship, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on, then the boxed meal.

Which is. Actually quite delicious. He will... admit... in his head.

He's not particularly used to good ol' fashioned home-cooked meals. It reminds him of something distant... very nostalgic. But foreign from years of scavenging, eating cans of old dog food and thrashing reptiles.

A question crosses his mind, when he sees Peggy's current state as he goes.]

Did you shoot back?

[mucked]

[ they walk in congenial silence until he (obliquely) brings up her appearance. she shoots him a glance before relenting -- smiling -- and dabbing her fingers against a patch of still-tacky paint on her sleeve. ]

I did, despite the misunderstanding. Perhaps I should be feeling guilty for that. [ but clearly she doesn't. after all, it's just paint. she's no less harmed than the perpetrators are, and she managed to get in some very good shots. ]

[theroadwarrior]

[snort.]

Was it fun?

[He's pretty sure he'd be upset and anxious about it.

But if she enjoyed herself, that's good, right?]

[mucked]

It was, in point of fact. Odd to say, perhaps, but it was a welcome change to use those skills in a game instead of at war. You don't usually get to shake the hand of the man you shot.

[theroadwarrior]

... Usually.

[It's a confirmation, but an amused one. It seems to be all he has to offer for a stretch of their walk -- but his mood seems to be... a good one. Actually, he's seemed a bit more content when they landed here. At ease with the world more than the station or the planet before that.

This is closer to home. And as guilty and awful as it makes him secretly, he quietly...

Likes it.]

Used to have games in our world -- these... war games. Only not a game, not really. Not the name on the tin. It's how you got parts. Supplies you can't get out there on your own.

[He waves hand dismissively.]

Always a pain. Last time didn't go well.

[mucked]

[ he's given her an opening -- she can't not take it. ]

What happened last time?

[theroadwarrior]

[Be careful what you ask for, Peggy, because Max has no qualms talking business. He looks absolutely exasperated, from what she can see of his eyes and brow. The huff of air says as much.]

Won an engine. Sore losers.

Buzzards stabbed me in the leg, roped me flat to the ground to sunbake.

[YOU KNOW. BUSINESS.]

[mucked]

[ oh, look! the ship. or, at least, one of the short range shuttles that can bring them back up to the ship. his, likely -- rather than whichever one she'd taken down. best to let max do the piloting when he's making the trip. it's one of those rare concessions she made. ]

I take it you're not talking about literal buzzards?

[theroadwarrior]

[Max shakes his head, apparently too involved in his own memories to read the humor in Peggy's reply. He's sliding into the piloting seat and punching in the starter controls as he goes -- a smooth, distant action, one done enough that he barely pays his own hands any mind as they work.]

They feed off the world. Mm. I do, too, but not... like that -- they don't see things as they are. Cars are scrap metal. Buildings are brick and rock to take. People are meat to consume. I was lucky they left me to die instead of stringing me up for their dinner.

[It's an easy topic, home. Even in regards to the Buzzards. But with it carries a bit of silent animosity, in Max's heart. He is not on good terms with them. The bracelet he fidgets with on his wrist is memory of that.]

[mucked]

[ she waits until they leave the ground and the air systems within the shuttle have cycled at least once before she unbuckles her mask and frees her face. she gives her curls a shake, and welcomes cool air on her cheeks. ]

They unmake things.

[theroadwarrior]

[Max follows her example, unclasping the mask from his face and setting it aside.

He takes a deep, rumbling breath, and then replies much like a correction:]

Not just things.

[They unmade Glory and her mother, after all. Back into the earth. Recycled.]

1/2

[mucked]

People, then. Lives. The undo it all --

[ peggy is looking elsewhere. out the blurred and scratched shuttle 'window' perhaps, as they break atmosphere. or maybe she's merely lost in thought. but then her head turns to address max once again and...

christ on a cracker. ]

2/2

[mucked]

You've bloody done it. [ she doesn't hide how she stares. ] My word.

[theroadwarrior]

[He blinks innocently enough at the comment, before looking back ahead.]

Mm, don't be dramatic. S'just hair.

[Says babyface-mcfuckin-gee.

dont embarrass me peggy]

[mucked]

It isn't only hair. [ ... ] You had a damned bird's nest on your chin.

[theroadwarrior]

[He glances at her indignantly, brow furrowed.]

If it was that easy, I'd have bird for lunch more often.

[Fella looks younger, now — though one wonders how old he even is to begin with.

... Spoilers he isn't sure anymore.]

[mucked]

[ that's gross, max. gross. ]

-- On the other hand, the old lady's pet-name for you makes a great deal more sense. No wonder she's bringing you home-cooked meals.

[theroadwarrior]

[He doesn't look at her, but the corners of his ears redden a bit.]

Hrmph.

[He's never cared about his looks. Frankly, that sort of thing died off with Jessie - she used to tease him, or call him sweet little pet names just to make him defensive, or point out her preference for him to be clean-shaved. Granted, it had been part of his job, being clean and well-groomed for the force, but.

Doesn't matter.

But you know. Only human. He's mildly embarrassed by the innocent but clear affections of said old lady. And mildly embarrassed Peggy seems to be in some sort of agreement.]