driftfleet | video/action | I'VE BEEN BEDEVILED

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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 .]

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[Ahsoka is intricately attuned with the life force of her fellow Starstruck crewmates. Especially the ones she's attached to. Spending six months living together in a small ship, travelling through space, tends to have that effect. Where ever she is on the ship, so long as they're on the ship too, she can feel them. She feels when they're happy, when they're absent, when they're sleeping, when they're angry...

And she can feel when something feels distinctly not right. Suddenly, Max's energy signature no longer feels like Max anymore. At least, not the one she's familiar with. She runs down the hallway to his room, but pauses before knocking at the door. Of course he isn't there.

She runs down to the hanger instead, opening the shuttles one at a time until she finds the one he's in.]

Meathead?!

Badge? What did you have a badge for?

[There's something oddly familiar about this kid, but Furiosa can't quite put her finger on it.]

[Max jumps at the sudden noise, bashing the poor crown of his skull on a low spot of the shuttle — but instead of whipping around and threatening with a punch or pulling a weapon, he swivels around to stare at her with some surprise. He takes in that she's young, younger than him by a few years at the least, but... uh. The rest of her look is sort of what takes center stage. What a weird hat. What a strange tan. What interesting markings.

But by no means Max's idea of what an alien would look like.

He stares for a long moment, and then, in a thicker accent:]

... S'pose I'm a bit of a meathead.

Yeah you are!

[She grabs his face with both hands-- gently-- so she can turn his head this way and that, looking at it all over.]

What did you do to your hair? What happened to your face? I thought you hated shaving!

Sorry — bit vague, I guess. I'm a cop back home; MPF, Max Rockatansky. Pleasure, ma'am.

[He rubs his scalp, frowning.]

But I guess the bronze is worth about as much as the food here, now.

Whoa, whoa, you can take back your ten.

[He pushes back her hands, looking... not particularly worried about whatever she is now that she's coddling at him like an oldie.]

Bit young to be pinching cheeks and fixing hair, aren't you?

How d'you know me?

[That's the most unsettling sensation, that there.]

... Wait. [That gives Ahsoka pause. She sits backwards, hands dropping.]

You don't remember me?

[He pinches the bridge of his nose.]

You must... have me confused with someone else, yeah? I'm new. Just woke up here, actually.

I'd never even dream of being in space.

[Ahsoka looks at him for a moment, confused.]

No... that's not right. People who have just woken up here wake up on the Marsiva. Always.

[She leans in close to his face again.] You look... younger.

[ in time, his investigation reaches the captain's quarters. the room is modestly more spacious than the others -- and on this particular morning, the door stands open despite clear evidence of activity inside. peg is sat at her vanity/desk; she leans forward on one elbow while applying lipstick. it's her armour for the day.

she can't be certain of anything, but there's just enough noise underfoot outside her door that she can make a guess at someone hovering. without looking away from her mirror (she can see the doorway from this angle, anyway) peggy clears her throat and raises her voice. ]

Come in, then. I can't abide dithering.

Ah —

[Well great, he's about to go peeving someone immediately. He wanders in, his steps fluid and unhitched and easy, and pauses just a few steps into the room. He feels like he very well shouldn't be here, but he's at least one for trying to be civil; his father taught him as much. Gentlemanly. The world is going to hell, son, so leave a good impression on the girls before it all falls down. He clears his throat, assuming the generic and rigid pose of a cop reporting to his supervisor.

She seems very official, this lady.

He voice that speaks up is young, not a grumble or rumble to it; the twisted up accent Max had gained over years of integration has crumbled, leaving a simple Australian accent, strong and sharp and a bit humored.]

Righto then, I'll be sure to pass along the message; no dithering.

Feels like that's been my occupation so far today, so I might be in a heap of trouble.

[ she pauses mid-application of colour to her lips. the voice is odd, now that it speaks. and the face is familiar but (looking only at a reflection over her reflected shoulder) peggy isn't quick to place how she knows the bone structure beneath bare cheeks.

with a pop, she presses her lips together and releases them. then, in one motion, she turns and stands. the tube of dark red lipstick becomes something to be brandished -- and she points it at him with all the cautious intention of a broadsword. ]

New crew? [ peggy lifts her chin. ]

Mar —

[He leans back, blinking, looking unsure as all getout.]

Okay, okay. Settle down. I'm not sure what's...

[He moves back a bit, pulling at the contraption on his leg; he plops down on the console and his hands travel to it, wiggling the straps. It looks like some kind of brace — futuristic a bit, in contrast to anything he's seen before. Max of course doesn't remember Tadashi putting it together for him in a past universe. Nor does he remember having to fix it again after falling into a mineshaft.

It seems he is well and truly a blank slate here.]

Still trying to figure out why this gizmo's strapped to my leg, hardly got half a mind to figure out the lump in my neck feeding me weird space facts.

... What d'you mean, younger?

[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. ]

[Nami finds his face familiar to say the least, and a measuring glance as he walks into the Space Bar is enough that she's reminded of a younger Max or Tuck. But that's the problem. Apparently face-snap is a new thing around here-- FDR with that other guy on the network, Max and Tuck-- that she just shrugs and writes it off the moment she thinks it.

New guy, right?

She smiles cheerfully as he approaches the bar.] Hey, new face.

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.

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