driftfleet | video/action | I'VE BEEN BEDEVILED

Entry tags:

video/action | I'VE BEEN BEDEVILED

Who: Max Rockaaaaaaatansky (At Age 22)
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Starstruck, or at the Iskaulit bars!
When: Today.

[Augment glitches really are a bitch and a half, aren't they?

Max wakes up — different. Young, fresh-faced, barely over into his twenties. He wakes up in a shuttle, and boy, his mind is reeling; this isn't home. This isn't home at all, it's something out of some old sci-fi movie on the television, something a buncha' jockeys'd muck around on smoking some seriously fucked up mull. He knows things, certain particularly strange things: like how to pilot this strange shuttle contraption, like how the parts work, how they purr. He knows not to damn well airlock himself, knows how to use the phone. This is a phone, right?

He steps out of the shuttle, an old crippled dog whines at him. Ah, a friend, his only friend in the world at the moment. He crouches down and rubs at the dog's ears, eyes still glued in wonder at the room around him.]

Ahhh, hey, old mongrel, hey. Don't suppose you've got any clue what's going on?

[A pause.]

Right. A dog out of something science fiction that speaks a lick of English would be a stretch. Atta boy. Alright, alright, sit. Thatta' boy.

[He pats the dog's chest, stands up, adjusts his jacket... which is clean, but it's... different, in some ways. Where's his damn sleeve? Someone take a switchblade to it while he was unconscious or what? He puts a hand on the gun at his hip, in the holster, wandering quietly through the corridors of the Starstruck. Nobody pay him any mind, he's just... y'know. Exploring. The augment's still a bit jacked up, so the information is sketchy at best, but he's getting bits and pieces about the place. Jessie and Sprog aren't here. That much is clear, and it concerns him the longer he wanders (and questions the thing strapped on his leg, what the hell).

He can be found just about anywhere, poking at the squared space food on platters, investigating the rooms, hell, even just running a hand along the wall of a shuttle, interested on how it works.

What the bloody fuck is all this, guys.]

[VIDEO]

[Somewhere during all that — a broadcast. Hey look, it's some young buck transmitting from the Starstruck, don't mind him.

His accent is certainly more pronounced. Less gruffy. In fact, it's downright high in comparison to Max's grumbles and mumbles. Clear. Legible.]

If someone told me I was gonna wake up on some slick spaceship, I woulda' told them they've gone troppo and put them under observation. Starstruck — fancy name, sure is good for any means of transport. But. Why'm I here? Where's Earth, and where's the next space-cab to get there? Don't tell me there's some big conspiracy I wasn't privy to — honestly, I'm having a helluva' time trying to come to terms.

I need to go back home. Or at least get to bring people back here with me. Hell, I'll take that; as it stands, I got too much waiting for me that I can't go leaving behind, but I could be willing to move to space if I get a few people for the ride. Otherwise... No thanks.

And he way I hear it, we're all stuck here until these Atroma give us a punch-card out. Don't suppose anyone could tell me where to find one, because while I'm dying to take one of these shuttles out for a spin, I'm not too impressed by being stolen away by a bunch of dickheads in astro-suits to get the opportunity.

... They even took my badge... Buncha' bastards.

[He blinks, still a bit dazed, like he's living in a dream.]

I'm gonna go grab me a heart-starter at the bar, think I'll need one or five.

[BRB GOING TO YOUR BARS ON THE ISKAULIT. Feel free to meet him there, he's not doing much but staring off into space in thought.

OOC: Max is younger Max (who has a family and is a cop yoooo) for 2 weeks thanks to an augment glitch! Enjoy the improved personality while you can.

Also don't make fun of my attempt to give him Mad Max Slang. Y'bastards.

Replies will be from

theroadcop .]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He purses his lips, looking a bit troubled. He's already had the weird experience of... maybe being here before? Or at least things are particularly screwy. But he might as well go through the motions, try to keep a level head, eh?]

Fair Dinkum, ma'am, I'm still trying to sort that out.

I woke up in this ship with a helluva' headache and strange orange schoolies patting my face and claiming to know me.

[ her attention remains honed in on that face. she doesn't like how she recognizes it -- and begins, at first, to wonder whether the augment is playing some game with her. except there's an itch of instinct in the back of her mind. voice, coupled with mouth, coupled with something. it's like watching a code being deciphered in front of her very eyes: all the quirksome changes and twists and tics are ironed out, and all that's left is plain english.

or not-so-plain english, as the case may be. she can guess at the meaning behind some of his slang. but describing anyone as orange makes it obvious... ]

My first mate. Ahsoka. She knows you? [ i know you -- the puzzle pieces are just beginning to fall into place. a slow realization dawns on peggy's features. she makes no attempt to hide it. ]

[He squints, and makes no attempt to hide his own realizations. His being that there's something more to this lady, too, that her expression is telling him. Lord, he's going to really running into a real snag here, surrounded by people who are filling in gaps he didn't know he had.]

Guess that's the case... captain.

[Said with some question, though. Great, she's the leader of the ship, too.]

I don't have memory of this place now, f'I even had any to begin with. Last I remembered before this, I was sleeping back home next to my old woman, fighting to kick off some blankets because it had been blazing hot this morning.

...

That morning. [He's so very lost. But he taps the augment, studying her response to all this carefully, despite his relaxed demeanor.] Next thing I know, I'm slumped over the controls of some serious space wheels. M'lucky this bizarre lump of a science fiction story filled me in.

[ -- his old woman? oh, hell. peggy's reaction is so mixed. she would love to push the topic and learn more and squeeze out every bit of information this young man is willing to share, but the more she watches his eyes and the more she connects them with another pair...well, the less inclined she is to betray an old trust.

she grimaces. ]

It's all very bewildering, I admit. To wake up in the fleet. [ she knows for certain he's not someone truly new, or he would have woken up on the marsiva first. that seals her assumption in steel: what's happened to mister arthur hall before has now happened to a member of her own crew. and he seems...woefully earnest by comparison to his older self.

oh, bloody hell. ]

Perhaps you should join me in the kitchen. We can take our time discussing the phenomenon.

[He smiles with some relief at that offer, shoulders slumping just a bit.]

Sounds fine with me. I've had half a mind to try and tackle that dog food people call food here.

[He moves to leave, but hesitates — turns back and offers his hand. Even if she's acting a bit shonky with her eyes, he might as well do this proper.]

Ah, sorry. I'm Max. Max Rockatansky, with the MPF. Though I'm woefully off-duty, seems like.

[ and there, it seems, is the nail in the coffin. peggy clears her throat -- she buries her awe and curiousity -- and meets him with a bright, friendly smile. but it doesn't really reach her eyes. she's being polite: no more and no less.

she gives his hand a firm shake. ] Peggy Carter. Captain, here, on the Starstruck. But you've already sussed that one out.

[ she gestures towards the door. ] MPF. What does that stand for?

[ -- a police force. she knows that much. but the m? melbourne? she can't be certain. ]

[He walks out obediently enough, his stomach rumbling with hunger.

Food and maybe something cold, that'll do it.]

Main Force Patrol, ma'am. Founded for the purpose of combating the organized crime, 'specially on the highways. We've got a lot of biker scags and nomadic jockeys burning rubber on the roads that regular patrols are too buried to handle, what with the state of the world as'f late.

Been with them for many years now.

[Considering he's in his earliest twenties, it's an odd sentiment. He's all too aware at how broken the system is, but he hardly thinks he's not qualified to be out there. Somebody's got to do something, don't they? Especially considering the scoundrels ruling the roosts.]

Makes for busy work, at least.

[ he sounds so -- diligent. so optimistic, in his youngish and dutiful way. it kindles an admiration in peggy that she's felt, off and on, ever since his much older self revealed to her that he'd once worked with the police. she looks over her shoulder, marveling at his youth. wondering at all that must have happened between this man and the man she knows.

her heels clip loudly against the hallway floor as they walk. ]

Highways. Of course. [ cars. another piece settles gently into place. ] I'm afraid there isn't much call for that sort of work here in space.

[He chuckles warmly, shaking his head.]

Then I wager I'm out of a job, sounds like.

Considering the sad state of my uniform here, I'm betting the people in charge of the idiot boxes here took my bronze just to be spiteful.

[He pats his jacket, referring to it. It's really quite a prized possession. His symbol of making the world better, or trying to. He's not do blindingly stupid to think he can fix much of what's broken, but he can certainly try. That's what makes real men; not those loons out on their shoddy bikes, terrorizing innocent folks.]

But if it's all the same to them, I'd rather go back home. I already drive her mad with all the overtime as it is; she'll dunk me in a scalding pot next.

[ oh, hell's bells. she can't stop herself. peggy showed admirable restraint at the last hint of a special someone. but now, as they walk into the kitchen -- and she's forced to listen to his happy, warm laughter -- she cannot help herself. ]

-- She?

[ oh, carter. you are treading the deep waters now. ]

Gossipy, aren't you, captain.

[He seems more relaxed, used to this level of playfulness with someone above his rank; Fif gives him a hell of a time himself, though he's far more of a jagged old brute than this captain here. Despite his words, he looks pleased by it.]

She, yeah. She. Would be a bit of a confusing name, She. Her name's Jessie; my wife. It's why I can't stay too long, s'much as I like the idea of walking on the moon. This place is just a spit in the bucket without the people back home, isn't it? Kidnapped, and they don't have the decency to kidnap the whole family.

[ -- the story writes itself with quick, bold strokes. max had a wife and her name was jessie, and peggy doesn't hesitate to consider her in the past tense within her own thoughts. because she's witnessed the loss and grief left in the lines of max's older face, but she'd never known their source before now.

she wonders is jessie is one of his ghosts.

peggy approaches the counter and (first things first) puts the kettle to boil. she doesn't turn back around to face him as she lies: ]

You don't belong here. [ ... ] I'm certain we can have you back home within a fortnight.

[ whatever the atroma have done to him -- it must be their fault, yes? -- it'll wear off. they'll get their ratings and it'll wear off and she won't participate in making some huge fuss over it.

he's a lovely, funny, engaged young man -- but the kettle misses the pot. ]

Don't belong here at all.

[It's agreed. He watches her prepare with great interest, eager to do it himself but not wanting to step on her hospitality; he just always put up a pot for him and Jess, always made them their tar for the morning before he zipped off to work. He taps his fingers rhythmically on the counter. He knows there's more to this. He knows she's keeping something quiet, something hush-hushed.]

But how exactly can you be so sure?

That I'm going home so soon.

[What do you know that he doesn't, cap'n?]

Because your Jessie sounds like a fearsome woman. Dunk you in a scalding pot, you said? [ peggy turns with a muted smile. ] I couldn't allow it to happen. I'd best pull out all the stops to get you back in place before she realizes you're gone.

[ it's a bad lie. she knows it's a bad lie. but she hopes the young man also has that latent sensibility to not poke too hard at the truth -- the very sensibility that she so often lacks, but does appreciate in max. ]

[He smiles; alright, alright, he'll play nice. For now. But since we're here, stuck in space -- stuck with our hands tied in regards to the dickheads who have us captive... A little small talk doesn't hurt much while the kettle boils.]

That's right. She can be downright vicious; one time, pulled me by my ear. It was red as a beet when I pulled up in front of the boys. They had a laugh and a half at that one. [He waves a hand then.] But more often than grumpy, sweet. Strong girl. I got lucky.

[He glances at her.]

You, captain? Anyone you pulling the ear on?

[ she's charmed, really. utterly truly charmed. how unusual it is to hear that much vibrancy from the man she knows to be max -- and so much love, lost in his eyes. it almost makes her heart hurt. it makes her teeth gnash.

peggy clears her throat -- caught off-guard by the question. ] Heavens, no. Nothing so domestic as that. I'm afraid it's rather not in the cards for me.

No?

[He leans on his elbows.]

Not interested in something cozy, two or three rooms. A hubby, a little ankle biter? Maybe a rough little girl who muddies all her dresses? I mean... I can't talk much; I'm a busybody who doesn't know the first thing about kids; been more of a learning process, I guess.

[As exasperated as he gets with Jessie's grumping, he also knows she's right on some level. He's always out on the job, always hard at work. It makes them enough to survive on, gives them some comfort in a world where comfort is dwindling, but... yeah. He could be a better husband. Better father. He thinks about it sometimes, because he has some long, quiet drives. Room to think. About the future. About plans for his small family.]

A busybody, maybe, but -- forgive me for saying so -- you sound awfully sentimental.

[ peggy smiles before she puts a mug of strong tea before the young man. ]

I mean it as a compliment, of course.

[His smile falters a bit, and he looks almost sheepish -- or like someone who hates to wear such a feeling on the cuff of his sleeve, anyway. Damn. Caught easily. It's one thing to be a sentimental goofball around his wife, but another to be in front of someone in charge of him. Fif would catch him sometimes -- nothing like this, but he'd get a Look and the bald bastard would know it. Like when he married Jessie. 'You're dumb and drunk with it, aren't you mate?' Yeah, that Fifi, he loves to bust balls.

He turns the mug in his hands, looking at it with a little smirk.]

... You've got me figured out, captain. I guess it's just been a special occasion back home. My boy's turning a whole year old tomorrow, and I suppose that makes me mushier than any bronzy should be on a workday; everyone at the station'll give me a rough time for it, if they knew.

[Sproggo, a whole year old. It opened a lot of talk, a lot of quiet thoughts. Jessie, asking about make another little money-guzzler, another little creature shuffling about the house. He had to admit, he loved Sprog so much, he wasn't sure he could survive loving two at the same time. Not that he said that. As sentimental as he is, he has an exceptionally rough time detailing to Jessie just how much he loves her and their boy. He's always been a man of action, hard with the emotions that come with it. Little gestures. He hopes she reads them loud and clear.]

[ peggy leans back against the counter while cradling her own mug against her stomach. his boy. oh, bloody hell. it pains her to dredge up a polite smile -- to feel happy for his happiness, although she can already sense the doom waiting in the wings. life and hardship has stripped max of these reasons to smirk sheepishly and boast about his own family. she sees the older, sadder man in the shadows of this one's cheekbones. ]

A year. My word. Then we really must get you back home, Mister Rockatanksy.

[He nods, staring into the contents of his coffee cup.

And then he sighs, almost exasperated.]

She's been talking about having a girl someday, but I wouldn't know the first thing about girls. [It's why he mentioned it earlier, if he's honest; something to consider in the wake of Sprog's birthday. He looks over at her, leaning his chin on his palm.] Maybe it's a surprise, but I was useless in school around them. I'd be a lying dill if I said she didn't do most of that legwork.

She must have thought you were worth the legwork, then.

[ there are thoughts gearing quickly through the back of her head. she wonders whether the couple had an opportunity to have a second child before catastrophe took over their homeland. wasted it. ]

[He cracks a grin at that, shaking his head.]

Because she's crazy. I'd say I'd know how to pick 'em, but she picked me. Right off the tree.

[He looks over at her.]

As you can imagine, my friends are all rowdy men with half a brain.

Don't suppose you would have advice for me, if we did end up with a little lady?

Advice? Good heavens. I'm rubbish with children...

[ or so she assumes. peggy hasn't had much opportunity to interact with kids. she's pleasant enough, if a little...hands-off. stilted.

but then she thinks a moment about her own childhood. ]

Say you have a daughter, Mister Rockatansky. And say she isn't the prim and proper lady you and your wife might expect of her? Don't press the point. If she wants to rough-house and go on adventures in the back yard with her brother, let her.

Some experiences are worth a soiled dress.

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