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
The mother turns and signs at the father. The father signs back.
Kiddo keeps waving and trying to get Max's attention again, as her bear flops lifelessly in her arms.
And Max turns and leaves with heavy, long steps.]
no subject
It's not like she can't find him easily enough when she's done. Which she does. Where'd you go, loser.]
no subject
In a cold sweat, Max rubs his face with his hands, the passer-bys walking in more of a curved line to avoid being too close to him and his anxious aura. The smell of burnt rubber is pungent. He dare not look up, afraid Sprog will be as lifeless as that girl's bear, limp and folded backward and spineless. He doesn't want to look.
The kid lived, she's back with her parents, it ended fine.
This time nobody died. It's a bleeding miracle.
He mumbles it to himself, into his clasped hands, and will start to believe it if he says it enough.]
no subject
Either way. She gives Max a modicum of space, not wishing to startle him. The burnt rubber smell that surrounds him reminds her of the car accident that started things for Katie, all the way back when. Perhaps there's a reason for that.
Eventually, she approaches the opposite side of the bench, sitting down quietly on the very edge.]
...you know. I suppose it surprised you to find I was a police officer now. But I like it when children get happy endings.
no subject
Mm... It's... nice.
[When things go right, it's nice. It's just almost never the case.]
Kid's safe. It's good.
no subject
[That's all she says about Max's involvement. She stretches her legs out in front of her, before hooking them up onto the bench to rest her chin on her knees.]
It doesn't always turn out so well, does it?
no subject
He almost left her to be dealt with by someone else.]
... No.
[Almost never. Glory sits cross-legged on the ground in front of Max, looking up at him curiously, with that occasional lack of aggression or malice.]
no subject
I suppose you're not the type that likes to talk about it.
no subject
No.
no subject
[She stands, hands in pockets.] Take this one as a mark in the good column, yeah?
no subject
But Max knows strange very well. So perhaps not as concerning as it should be.]
Yeah.
... Umm.
[He scratches a hand over the back of his head, against the short hairs there.
And of course doesn't quite look at her.]
Thanks.
no subject
She grins at the thanks.]
Don't worry about it. I wouldn't have helped out if it wasn't my job.
[Liar.]
no subject
His echoes are no less aggravating and overwhelming, but he appears to have... calmed.
It's easier when he isn't isolated in his own thoughts, it seems.]
Sure.
... Should, mm... get back to the fleet.
no subject
[Cheerfully.]