video/action | I'VE BEEN BEDEVILED

[theroadwarrior]

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 .]

Comments

[dancingmd]

[She shakes her head.]

No, I'm completely serious. It mimics the more pleasant effects of alcohol without the ah...less desirable ones. Most importantly, it won't give you alcohol poisoning and it's non-addictive.

But... Going extinct? How is that?

[theroadcop]

[He puts down the jug, thoughtful.]

Just not anything left that could make it. Everything's going dry. Plants aren't doing to good. And there's not as many hands left to do it.

[He sombers a bit at that; the world is well and truly fucked. It's up to what's left to figure up just how fucked it is, though. It's why he puts a badge on everyday. Contributing, being a worthwhile help, that'll at least buy the planet some time, right?]

[dancingmd]

[Ah. Perhaps it's coincidence, another man who looks like Max living on a dying world, but that seems unlikely.]

I'm sorry to hear that. Do you know what caused it, if I may ask?

[theroadcop]

[A soft sigh, as easy as exasperation over a broken fence.]

Usual chaos, I guess. Wars over oil, over guzzoline and all sorts of things human beings can't seem to see eye-to-eye on. Not taking care of anything worth taking care of, guess you could say.

[He shrugs.]

It's rough, but we're getting by. Might as well try to make the most of it for the people back home, in any way I can.

[dancingmd]

Sometimes it's all you can do, unfortunately.

I'm Beverly, by the way. Should have introduced myself earlier.

[theroadcop]

[Oh! He wipes his hands off on his pants, offering a warm hand to shake.]

Likewise. I'm Max. S'good to meet you, Beverly.

[The urge to shorten that to Bev was very strong, but he'll abstain.]

You usually work in the bar?

[dancingmd]

[She gives his hand a firm shake back, hiding her underlying unease. She kept hoping maybe it wasn't really him, but now that it has been confirmed - well, she's not quite sure what she should do. Tell him that they know one another? "Oh yeah, I'm the doctor you'll punch in the face in your future?" Great introduction.

Doesn't seem right to leave him in the dark and yet telling him may not be the best thing either.]

No, I'm a doctor, aboard the Blue Fish. But I help out where I can.

[theroadcop]

[He whistles, in all good moods despite the situation. He's had a rough time trying to... take this all in, but this is at least something to focus on until he can get down to the bottom of all this. If there's even anything he can do but wait until the Atroma let him go.]

A doctor. Then you're one of the brilliant ones out there, eh?

How long've you been stuck here, yourself?

[dancingmd]

Over a year now. I arrived last March.

[theroadcop]

[He blinks.]

Wow. Someone else stuck here for so long?

Got me kind of worried; I need to get home, would hate to be trapped for months when I've got a lot of work to do. I hope everyone's right about the time not changing thing, or my wife'll kill me.

[dancingmd]

I hope so too. I have family there as well.

[theroadcop]

You do?

[Oh, something familiar. He might as well latch onto it.]

What are they like? Bit hotheaded, maybe? Head as fiery as yours?

[he teasin', bev]

[dancingmd]

[Max is teasing. The concept is so strange to her that it actually takes her a moment to respond, and her answer is slightly confused sounding, when normally, this sort of banter comes naturally to her.]

No, no... [Snap out of it, Bev!] Wesley - my son - is... he's much more like his father, in many ways.

[theroadcop]

[Lucky you, Max just thinks you're awkward with small talk.]

You've got a boy, too, do you? What's he like?

Other than being seemingly like his father, of course.

[dancingmd]

[He has a son. Had a son? With what she knows about their world, from him and Furiosa, that past tense seems… all too likely. Her chest tightens at the thought.]

Well, he’s no longer a boy, not really. [Small smile.] Though parents never are very good at recognizing that their child has grown up. He’s about your age, in fact. And brilliant - truly, it’s not just a mother’s bias.

[theroadcop]

[His eyebrows shoot up. His age? He should have considered that, wow. He tries to imagine what Sprog will be like -- who he'll turn into most. But it's hard to separate him from the chubby little infant who still can't walk. He smiles fondly back.]

Another doctor?

[dancingmd]

[Sometimes it's hard to separate Wesley from that chubby little infant who couldn't walk either. And now... now he's traversing space and time, achieving things far beyond the scope of his mother's abilities or even her understanding.]

Ah no, he's a... physicist, I suppose is the simplest way to put it.

[theroadcop]

Keeping it simple for me does me a world of good. [He says it in good nature, rubbing a hand over his neck.] Couldn't imagine Sprog that old. Doesn't seem possible, for your kid to turn into a man. Everyone else's, sure, but yours?

It's gonna be a helluva' trip.

[dancingmd]

Sprog?

[She can't help but smile at his choice of nickname for his son. It's cute and very fitting for Max, somehow.]

What's he like?

[theroadcop]

[A laugh.]

I'm sure he'll be sore about the nickname when he's older.

Right now -- hmm. Still think he's growing into a person, you know? Small little thing, but he's fulla' rolls. Chubby. I'm not sure what I looked like as a infant, but I imagine he's a close look.

Loves his food. Loves playing with everything but actual toys. And a good smile; he'll be a ladykiller.

[dancingmd]

[She laughs too.]

Does he like boxes? They always seem much more excited about the packages themselves than the gifts inside.

[theroadcop]

Boxes? Miss Beverly, he likes anything that isn't an actual child's toy.

Really, there's no helping him. I usually just give up and let him have whatever he wants.

.........

S'long as it's not gonna kill him, anyway. Kids aren't supposed to scare you until there about nine or ten, back-flipping off high places or playing with firecrackers.

[dancingmd]

Oh, trust me, they'll find ways to scare you long before then. They've got a special talent for that - or perhaps we have a special talent for worrying.