Why'd You Kill the Merchant?!

[sansseraph]

Who: ALL O' Y'ALL
Broadcast: If you want
Action: FRICK YEAH PARTY AT THE JUNKYARD...I mean, Waystation. Junkstation.
When: 10/07 - Event End

It looks more like a junk heap than a waystation, but luckily there aren't any math fetishists to add you to the pile (hopefully). Talk to the scavengers and heed their warnings...if you want. Or perhaps you'll approach a shady individual for purchasing or selling stuff.

"Welcome, stranger!"

Comments

[theroadwarrior]

Mnn. Good.

[He fires one shot with his free hand — to the left, where one man is trying to pull a gun on him while he's preoccupied. Thing is, Max is paranoid as hell, so he sees it well ahead of time. The shot hits the guy's hand, burns a hole right through. Lasers. Helpful. It cauterizes it just as well, and the guy crumples to his knees and forfeits retaliation.

Max looks a bit like a mangy dog ready to bear his canines. Apparently, a guy armed with both a normal handgun and a laser gun is enough to start to drive away the small but greedy huddle of men. He keeps his eyes on them, though. Doesn't break their surprised gaze.]

You want...?

[He flexes his hand on the gun, as if asking her without words.

Should he make them leave, or hurt them, and then make them leave?]

[dancingmd]

[Beverly can't help but wince as the laser cuts through the crook's hand and he lets out a surprised shout of pain, clutching his hand as he stumbles backward away from Max. He exchanges glances with the ringleader, still held in place by Max's gun, before making the decision to bolt, evidently not trusting his fate to Beverly's decision.

That still leaves three, however, one of which is still knocked out thanks to Beverly. Her gazes falls first on Max's hand and the gun, then flickers back to his face. She shakes her head. Let them go.]

[theroadwarrior]

[As hard as it is for any ol' outsider to believe looking at Max and how he is, Max has no desire to kill — he's not like the other wastelanders he's often running into, hardly enjoys the idea of violence. He uses it when he was to, kills if it's required in his world, but he's never felt enjoyment from it. More often than not, he just feels like an animal numbed by instinct, by the need to survive even if his mind isn't always in agreement.

The men scatter as Max lowers his weapon, a fierce gleam in his eye even still until they're mostly gone. Gone, but one obnoxious voice howling their need for revenge. Max doesn't care. He's heard it a million times. He holsters the gun and approaches the doctor, his hard edges softening.]

Scavengers.

... Sure you're okay?

[It's not that he's worried, okay!!

Because! He's! Not!]

[dancingmd]

[Sure you aren't, Max.

Beverly lets out a long sigh as she watches the men flee.]

I am now, thanks to you.

[Though that final threat causes her some concern and her brow furrows.]

All the same, perhaps it is best if we get out of here.

[theroadwarrior]

[He relaxes a fraction more, nodding.

Well, if she's fine and they're gone, it's a good day.]

Mm. Sitting ducks isn't the best way to go.

What're you doing here?

[It's not accusatory per se, but it's clear he doesn't think it's a great idea to be here in this kind of place. It's crawling with unsavory characters — Max included, he feels. Not the best place to be a polite and kind doctor, even if it's clear she's got more to her than that, judging by her defense.]

[dancingmd]

Seeing if I can find anything useful for the lab.

[As they walk away from the scene of the fight, she glances at him sidelong with an amused twitch of her lips. Worrying about her are we?]

[theroadwarrior]

[Glancing at her, he seems to have traded out some of that seriousness for sass.

Shockingly.]

You, looking for lab supplies? Couldn't be.

[busybody]

[dancingmd]

I know. Who would have ever guessed?