My name is Max. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theroadwarrior) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-12-19 01:23 am
theroadwarrior) wrote in driftfleet2016-12-19 01:23 am
Entry tags:
video/action. one hobo and a baby
Who: Max Rockatansky and a small kid.
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: Corona, Starstruck.
When: From now to a few days, until the panicked fam is found.
[VIDEO.]
[Max starts the feed looking entirely uncomfortable, and it's abundantly clear in no time at all why that is. He's standing in one of the halls of the Corona, and there's a brunette toddler a little over two clasped to his neck like a legitimate barnacle; she's not exactly afraid, and she seems to have sandwiched a teddy bear between her cheek and Max's chin, and furthermore, she's not remotely concerned about her current predicament. Balanced on one of Max's forearms, she's smiling a thin-lipped and impish sort of smile. One single messy braid hangs down her back.
Did no one teach this kid about stranger danger? Nope.
She's wordless, though — dark-eyed and wordless and not at all ready to unleash her claw-grip on the poor man. He'd been walking her around the area already trying to figure out where she'd come from, but it's really to no avail. She can't do anything but signal her age with two fingers, as if perhaps she's incapable of conversation — and he's found her sign language is mildly understandable in the way sign language is, though nothing at all from any place from Earth. Also, she says a lot in the fact that he can't set her down without her demanding him mule her around; he'd tried to leave her with other people, and even considered, for a moment of blind panic, to just leave her somewhere and figure someone else will do something about it.
... He's a pushover, really. And his paranoia over the safety of a kid in any world trumps his desire to never hold another sprog ever again. If he left and something happened, he would never forgive himself, and that's just the nature of his life. Leaving behind the small and needy is a constant battle, with this one. And he's totally failed the leaving part. Again.]
Erm.
I found a kid.
... S'not my fault; she knocked on my door.
Need some help finding where she came from. Dunno, must've wandered off. She doesn't talk.
[He looks pretty nervous about the whole thing, thinned lips and worried grimace telling.
For good reason. It makes him think about the past. Makes him wanna bolt.
He considers dumping her off on someone for the hundreth time.
She just taps her stuffed bear's nose against his cheek, a bear kiss. He looks mildly offended.
(distracted from his own misery)
............................. Please don't do that, thanks.]
[ACTION.]
[He can be found boarding the Starstruck with said Kiddo later on (it's all he's taken to calling her, and it's not a Name, but it's something), primarily to make a beeline for the medical bay (yes it's kidnapping, sort of, leave him alone). Nothing serious, the kid just has a runny nose and Max sort of remembers how to treat toddlers with mild illness. A little congestion is normal when you're surrounded by so many germs in one place. She sits precariously on his shoulders watching him shift through the bottles, babyish eyes round and interested. She signs at him something he can't decipher, but he's trying to figure it out.]
Gonna drop your doll. Not gonna pick it up again.
[It's a sulky mutter. He's gonna pick it up again.
He can also be found on the Corona itself, looking for the mother or father or family member who must surely be seeking the kid out. Asking people when you hate talking to strangers is really not his thing, he's totally dying here. Please help him. Pls.]
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: Corona, Starstruck.
When: From now to a few days, until the panicked fam is found.
[VIDEO.]
[Max starts the feed looking entirely uncomfortable, and it's abundantly clear in no time at all why that is. He's standing in one of the halls of the Corona, and there's a brunette toddler a little over two clasped to his neck like a legitimate barnacle; she's not exactly afraid, and she seems to have sandwiched a teddy bear between her cheek and Max's chin, and furthermore, she's not remotely concerned about her current predicament. Balanced on one of Max's forearms, she's smiling a thin-lipped and impish sort of smile. One single messy braid hangs down her back.
Did no one teach this kid about stranger danger? Nope.
She's wordless, though — dark-eyed and wordless and not at all ready to unleash her claw-grip on the poor man. He'd been walking her around the area already trying to figure out where she'd come from, but it's really to no avail. She can't do anything but signal her age with two fingers, as if perhaps she's incapable of conversation — and he's found her sign language is mildly understandable in the way sign language is, though nothing at all from any place from Earth. Also, she says a lot in the fact that he can't set her down without her demanding him mule her around; he'd tried to leave her with other people, and even considered, for a moment of blind panic, to just leave her somewhere and figure someone else will do something about it.
... He's a pushover, really. And his paranoia over the safety of a kid in any world trumps his desire to never hold another sprog ever again. If he left and something happened, he would never forgive himself, and that's just the nature of his life. Leaving behind the small and needy is a constant battle, with this one. And he's totally failed the leaving part. Again.]
Erm.
I found a kid.
... S'not my fault; she knocked on my door.
Need some help finding where she came from. Dunno, must've wandered off. She doesn't talk.
[He looks pretty nervous about the whole thing, thinned lips and worried grimace telling.
For good reason. It makes him think about the past. Makes him wanna bolt.
He considers dumping her off on someone for the hundreth time.
She just taps her stuffed bear's nose against his cheek, a bear kiss. He looks mildly offended.
(distracted from his own misery)
............................. Please don't do that, thanks.]
[ACTION.]
[He can be found boarding the Starstruck with said Kiddo later on (it's all he's taken to calling her, and it's not a Name, but it's something), primarily to make a beeline for the medical bay (yes it's kidnapping, sort of, leave him alone). Nothing serious, the kid just has a runny nose and Max sort of remembers how to treat toddlers with mild illness. A little congestion is normal when you're surrounded by so many germs in one place. She sits precariously on his shoulders watching him shift through the bottles, babyish eyes round and interested. She signs at him something he can't decipher, but he's trying to figure it out.]
Gonna drop your doll. Not gonna pick it up again.
[It's a sulky mutter. He's gonna pick it up again.
He can also be found on the Corona itself, looking for the mother or father or family member who must surely be seeking the kid out. Asking people when you hate talking to strangers is really not his thing, he's totally dying here. Please help him. Pls.]
no subject
[She smiles, waves him off as she steps into the pool. She's handled wild war pups; one squeaky little orphan shouldn't be too much of a handful. And really, this is something of a rare opportunity for her. Something she didn't think she'd get to experience. She turns away from him to focus on the girl, talking softly, making a toy boat out of a fallen palm leaf.]
no subject
But he ends up a bit caught off guard by the sight himself; arms crossed over his chest and leg propped up, he closes his eyes, opens them, and sneakily observes as Furiosa and Kiddo keep each other company. It makes something in Max's chest thump painfully — grief that sometimes bubbles here and there, catching him off-guard, because he'd never properly unleashed it. Not the way mourning fathers and husbands would.
He killed with it, used it as a bat to bludgeon with.
Now, though, he's so very empty of that anger — it's replaced with those quiet pangs.
But it's a nice sight, really, it is. A calming one, even if it hurts.
It's a good image. Real good.]
no subject
[Eventually, the child plays herself out, and as Furiosa can see the signs of exhaustion setting in she leads her from the pool, towels her off, and tugs her dress back on. By this time the pup is comfortable enough to reach her hands up at Furiosa in a plea to be carried. Furiosa scoops her up, for once glad for the more human prosthetic than the aggressive iterations she's had in the past.]
[She carries her over to the bed and by the time they get there, Kiddo is already fast asleep. Furiosa lays her down next to Max and then settles on the edge.]
no subject
Kiddo is more than happy with flopping down next to the sleeping man to nap, herself.
Don't mind them.]
no subject
[Eventually, though, the power of suggestion gets to be too much and she resettles, sitting on the floor with her back against the bed, and slips into a light doze herself.]