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

2/2

[mucked]

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.

[theroadcop]

[He blinks, leaning back, looking... surprised, just a bit.]

Is that normal? Not letting daughters rough-house and play in mud?

Who's prim and proper when they're small babes?

[omg he's going to get defensive on your behalf]

[mucked]

[ her smile is rueful -- perhaps a little self-conscious. it's a detail she'd never share with an honest stranger. only max isn't a stranger, is he? not in the ways what counted. ]

My mother always hated when I'd barrel out to the garden to play St. George and the dragon with my older brother. She was convinced I'd follow him anywhere.

[ in a sense, she did. peggy would never have gone into field service if not for michael. ]

[theroadcop]

[He wrinkles his nose.]

Seems stupid. To stop a child from having her fun when there's not as much to be had later. Childhoods supposed to be easier, right? [He shakes his head.] I just grew up with a father, but I'd like to think our mum'd have given not a damn, one way or another.

[He shrugs.]

Hell, that'd be the best way to prepare a girl for the world.

No room for being anything but tough, nowadays.

[.........]

Don't suppose it's fair to teach her how to shoot some guns?

[mucked]

Fair, indeed. Once she's old enough. [ ... ] I believe it's entirely possible to teach someone certain skills while also hoping that someone is never called upon to use them. Girl or boy.

[theroadcop]

...

How old is old enough?

[i let my baby play with guns





they're not loaded????]

[mucked]

The answer is probably not a hard number -- but more some sort of emotional benchmark. I was barely into the Middle Sixth when I first picked up a gun. Under my older brother's supervision, of course.

[theroadcop]

[He drums his fingers on the table surface.]

Alright, Middle Sixth.

[He smiles. Curiosity, he's got it, too.]

Sounds like you're really close to your brother.

Bit envious; no siblings to speak of for me. Could have used someone to knock me down a peg when I got too cocky.

[mucked]

I was. [ she admits. and, in a sense, she supposes she needn't guard it so secretly. it's damn well near a matter of public record -- although it doesn't haunt her all the way to america's shores, she supposes. ] Michael was everything, once, I suppose. A bone fide hero. A good man. And always willing to play the dragon to my St. George.

[theroadcop]

My dad was the same. From what I remember of him, anyway.

[He gives a sad little smile.]

It's not a miserable topic, is it?

[mucked]

Heavens, no. [ she tries to dismiss his concern, but it's evident there lingers at least a streak of grief. ] It was years ago. A lot of brothers died in the war; I can't be the only sister left behind.

[ perversely, michael's death catapulted her on to bigger and better things. saved her from a loveless marriage. lead her to her career. ]

[theroadcop]

I can understand that sentiment. We had a lot of those. Wars.

Not a lot of family left -- on the side that wanted anything to do with me, anyway. Was a rough time of things for everyone.

[He scrunches his nose, frowning, thoughtful.]

My late condolences, anyway. It's hard, when the people you love pass on.

... I imagine he'd like the lady you've come to be, though.

[mucked]

[ a bit of a sputter. a frog, in the back of her throat. is it an honest compliment? perhaps from this younger max, but she can't be certain the older would care what kind of lady she was or wasn't. peggy buries her attention in the refrigerator -- trying to find a bite to eat and share. ]

Is it too narcissistic to say you're likely right? Michael hated me to be idle. [ ... ] Lovely things, older brothers. Mayhaps you ought to indulge your wife in a daughter if only so she might have an older brother, too.

[theroadcop]

[He laughs, though it's hard to say whether it's at her semi-covert sputter or the actual reply.]

Well, I'm not someone who likes being idle, so I can agree with that.

But you think so? I guess that's something for us to talk about. Life's short, isn't it?

[mucked]

Incredibly so. [ ... ] Australian, aren't you?

[ maybe there is some info she can mine for without feeling too guilty. ]

[theroadcop]

[He smirks.]

As much as you are British, I'm thinking.

[mucked]

Quite British, if you can't tell. Despite a few detours across the continent and over in America. Never Australia, however. Not yet.

[theroadcop]

Yeah, well, you could probably hold off. It's dry and hot and people use machetes as letter openers.

[He grins.]

[mucked]

Dry and hot. [ a puff of her cheeks. ] That's the same thing I keep being told about Calfornia. Oh, it's hot, they say, but it's a dry heat.

[ heat is heat. ]

[theroadcop]

What, can't you handle the heat?

[Look at this smartass over here.]

[mucked]

I don't suppose you've ever been to Britain. [ ... ] Heat is not our forte.

[theroadcop]

And speaking from someone who's never stepped foot out of the great outback, what is?

[mucked]

Rain. Fog. [ a quirked smile. ] General, muted malaise.

[theroadcop]

Rain and fog, oh, that sounds wonderful.

[MAX'S LIFE IS A SAD LIFE WITH VERY LITTLE RAIN. OR FOG.]

I think the last thing is probably something we have in common.

Only ours is -- a bit less muted. And toxic. The earth's looking a little sick lately.

[mucked]

Yes, I rather expect that's the side-effect of nuclear fallout. [ peggy crosses her arms. ] Nasty stuff.