Let's all hold hands and sing Kumbaya

[notzubats]

Who: Everybody! It's a planet mingle!
Broadcast: If You want!
Action: On the Holding Hands plant!
When: From June 23 until whenever we need a new mingle.

[At long last, the fleet has arrived to a new planet. This means it's time for a mingle guys! Get in! ]

Comments

[mistyday]

[Unfortunately for Max, Misty only moves closer, getting angrier by the second.]

Or maybe you shouldn't be such an asshole.

[theroadwarrior]

[His brow wrinkles, confusion sparking in his eyes.

Is she really that dense? Being an asshole is just the basics.]

M'hardly the worst they could have run into.

They need to be more careful. Could grab people who - hn... [panic] react... differently. Not everyone has good feelings tied to being touched.

[mistyday]

Oh I know you ain't the worst they could have run into but that don't make it right to shove people.

[theroadwarrior]

Then they shouldn't touch me.

[... Ugh, he's going in circles on this.

He turns and starts hobbling away, not interested in continuing this.

LOLBYE MISTY????]

[mistyday]

[Unfortunately for you Max, you don't get to walk away from Misty Day. He will find suddenly that there is some sort of... force keeping him in place, almost like someone's grabbed hold of his foot and won't let go. Should he turn around, he'll find nothing, only Misty staring intently at him, her brow furrowed with concentration.]

[theroadwarrior]

[Now that is quite the link. He feels that - feels the grip of Misty's power as it stirs an uncontrollable panic in his stomach that turns to heavy lead. That kind of direct energy is enough to imprint Misty with some of Max's memory, vague and mostly sensations if anything; it's as if she's got her hand clasped firm, one person's internal battle trickling into another.

She can see it. Feel some of it. Hell, it might even be relatable. The panic Max feels as the war boys wrestle him and strip him down, take his things, force a mask on his face. The sensation of the sun baking his beaten and bruised skin as he's left tied to stakes in the sun; left by buzzards to die of heat stroke while they take his things. Touch is bad, it all says. Strangers are dangerous, touch is bad, don't touch me - don't touch me-

Max looks at her like a wild creature entangled in rope, spit and grit in the way he grits his teeth, but also a growing anxiety in his eyes.]

Let go.

[mistyday]

[The anger and resistance she more than expected, but not this, not the memory sharing and not the panic. It triggers memories of her own, memories she's been pushing down, down, the whole time she's been here. Not fair to inflict those on these nice people. But now, Max gets bombarded with her own memory of being hunted. Racing through the bayous in the dead of night, literal torches and pitchforks and the clamor of a mob on her heels. She runs, fast as she ever has, but it's not enough.

Hands grabbing at her from all sides, forcing her to a stake and tying her up. Faces of people she knows, people she's trusted her whole life, but now they blur in her panic and desperation and anger. As the smoke billows up all she can think about is revenge. Revenge and retribution. They'll pay for this, they'll...]

Apologize! Repent and I'll let you go.

[theroadwarrior]

[Lord, this is spiraling, ain't it. Max bristles and struggles away from her — and wow, isn't this familiar? More flashes, more images, but this time they're not his own. He hated this in the Tranquility, and he hates it now, hates it especially now. He draws his gun swiftly and aims, eyes wide and alarmed by what he's experiencing. Seeing.

As it turns out, Misty, Max is a horrible person to pin down and give traumatic memories to.

The crowd gasps and startles and rushes backward, and Max is as tense as a wire about to snap.]

Let me go.

[Rock barks frantically at the scene, unsure of what to do, of where the combative, wild energy is even caused by; the old dog just knows something's wrong, can't place where, but his owner is clearly panicked and discomforted, and it's his job to try and decipher this - but he can hardly use human sense in this nonsensical place.]

[mistyday]

[The gun helps matters not at all. Instead of loosening her mental grip, she reinforces it, suddenly scared of what he might do to the people around her if she lets him go. She remembers staring down the barrel of a poacher's gun and she remembers the gators twisting by their tails.

Oh God does Misty hate guns.]

[theroadwarrior]

[Well, shucks, now we have two anxious, scared people. Max isn't a rookie - even under the pressure he is now, he isn't about to kill her or anyone here; Max has never enjoyed killing, if it matters anymore. Even when the war boys were chasing him down... Or when Furiosa aimed to kill.

He just wanted to be let go.

And now, he wants to be let go.

He's afraid of her and her confounding power, and he just wants to be let go.

The panic in his eyes flares to his face when her grip strengthens; he aims for her arm and fires, careful to be nowhere near the fleeing crowd. He hopes pain in the limb will distract her enough to free him.

And hey, he was nice enough to shoot the arm she doesn't favor as much.]

[mistyday]

[Misty cries out in pain when the bullet hits, the burning sensation ripping through her upper arm as she tosses out her other one defensively. Max wanted to be let go, but now he's going to find himself hurdling backwards through the air, her magic coming out of her in a forceful blast before she falls forward in shock. The world feels like it is moving too slowly and everything starts to lose its focus.]

[theroadwarrior]

[Works for him.

... Granted, he doesn't much appreciate getting thrown into a building, and it rings his bell something fierce. But he's learned to exist and function in confused pain, so he immediately gets to his feet, ignores the throbbing pain in his back and the slight concussion, and barks an order for Rock to follow.

By the time Misty will be able to focus, Max will be lost in the frightened and rushing crowd, into the pathways and out into whatever closes forest there is. He can tend to the back of his battered scalp and try not to feel like an old man when his back hurts. There's the concern for retaliation, of course, and he deems the city unsafe - deems his time on the planet good only for the less traveled areas.

He sure the hell isn't visiting the city ever again, thank you.]