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)
driftfleet2017-02-19 10:47 pm
theroadwarrior) wrote in driftfleet2017-02-19 10:47 pm
Entry tags:
voice. MAN DOWN, MAN DOWN.
Who: Max (potentially featuring an injured and less-lucid Maggie) and you...!
Broadcast: Fleetwide | Voice
Action: N/A (Unless you're coming to pick up! We'll see based on threads. Or if you find him on the Starstruck after all this.)
When: Sometime now, whatevs. After this very intense encounter.
[Max has elected to put it to voice; easier to talk when one arm is currently giving blood, but not video to alarm anyone of this very scene. Maggie's lost a lot of blood, but Max is hoping to rectify that a little bit until they can get some help. Speaking of help — time to get some of that. His voice is gruff and calm, but there's an underlying urgency to his words.]
Need pick up, got someone down here on the ring who's hurt pretty bad. Her name's Maggie.
Don't know which ship she's from, but she's got a neck injury from a knife, near the back. Lost a lot of blood... Got it closed up and she's not critical. [Yet. He's pretty sure. She's drowsy as hell and she'll be weak for a while, but she should pull through.] Need a ship to pick us up, though. I can't move her like this on my own through the forest and she shouldn't go long without a real medical bay.
[A thoughtful pause.]
... I didn't do it, by the way.
[Look, he knows he's caused some shit before, but he has been so good. Seriously.
He'll do her a favor and try not to mention she did it to herself yet. He's not sure if he will or not... Honesty is more his policy on injuries. But...]
[Action | Starstruck, optionally]
[Eventually, he'll probably end up back on the Starstruck after getting her somewhere safe and clean and medically sound, sighing a big grumbly sigh and crawling off into the shuttle to sleep off his stress for the day. Y'all are monsters, making him care like a real person. Monsters. He'll have to check on her later, in secret, where she will never know. Perfect plan.
Don't mind if he has blood on him, he'll go to the bathroom to wash it off. He's gonna be a bit woozy on his feet for a few days.
Better than having his neck cut into, though.]
Broadcast: Fleetwide | Voice
Action: N/A (Unless you're coming to pick up! We'll see based on threads. Or if you find him on the Starstruck after all this.)
When: Sometime now, whatevs. After this very intense encounter.
[Max has elected to put it to voice; easier to talk when one arm is currently giving blood, but not video to alarm anyone of this very scene. Maggie's lost a lot of blood, but Max is hoping to rectify that a little bit until they can get some help. Speaking of help — time to get some of that. His voice is gruff and calm, but there's an underlying urgency to his words.]
Need pick up, got someone down here on the ring who's hurt pretty bad. Her name's Maggie.
Don't know which ship she's from, but she's got a neck injury from a knife, near the back. Lost a lot of blood... Got it closed up and she's not critical. [Yet. He's pretty sure. She's drowsy as hell and she'll be weak for a while, but she should pull through.] Need a ship to pick us up, though. I can't move her like this on my own through the forest and she shouldn't go long without a real medical bay.
[A thoughtful pause.]
... I didn't do it, by the way.
[Look, he knows he's caused some shit before, but he has been so good. Seriously.
He'll do her a favor and try not to mention she did it to herself yet. He's not sure if he will or not... Honesty is more his policy on injuries. But...]
[Action | Starstruck, optionally]
[Eventually, he'll probably end up back on the Starstruck after getting her somewhere safe and clean and medically sound, sighing a big grumbly sigh and crawling off into the shuttle to sleep off his stress for the day. Y'all are monsters, making him care like a real person. Monsters. He'll have to check on her later, in secret, where she will never know. Perfect plan.
Don't mind if he has blood on him, he'll go to the bathroom to wash it off. He's gonna be a bit woozy on his feet for a few days.
Better than having his neck cut into, though.]
action;
not better]
S... so you're okay...?
action;
[... But Max you said it wasn't yours.
He sighs softly, realizing that himself.]
Someone got hurt, needed blood. I gave 'em some.
action;
[Her gaze drops to the bandage on his arm.]
You can do that?
action;
... Ahh. Yeah...
[His sight shifts away from her, expression somber as he looks down the hall. His neck itches where the hooked needle used to leech from him as he hung disabled, bound, and humiliated. His back itches along the green-black lettering.]
Universal donor. S'not... a power or anything.
[Everything bobs like he's in the ocean, and he just stares at his arm.]
It's just... blood.
action;
Then she shakes her head and gives her cheeks a little smack to snap herself out of it.]
R-right! Do you need anything, then? I can get some fresh clothes, or bandages, or- oh, food! You need to get your strength back if you've lost blood! How about if I make some dinner?
action;
Because... uh.]
Slow down.
[Says the confused man with the wrinkled brow. Not because he can't understand her, but because he'll never really get the dedication some of his crew put forward in being nice. He has a hard time with being nice, you see. Takes a lot of energy.
But ahh, she looks so adamant.]
... Ahmm... I need a new shirt.
[He looks like he's murdered someone still.]
action;
THis! This is something she can do. She nods hastily.]
Okay! Why don't you take a nice warm shower and get cleaned up? I'll leave clean clothes in the change area, and then you can come have some dinner when you're done!
[Did you want to have an opinion about this, Max? Well, too bad, because she's already scampering off to get his stuff.]
action;
[He says to the person who is not there anymore.
He vanishes into the bathroom for a short spell, showering off the blood, hardly under the stream for too long; it's just blood on his arms and chest, really, a little around his neck from moving Maggie. In and out, probably done before she even can return any clothing, and studying his face with some exhaustion in the mirror, rubbing a hand over his stubble before touching the old brand on the base of his neck thoughtfully.
This has dredged up things he didn't want to think about.
Like the tattoo there on his back, dark and ugly and a reminder of what can be taken. Of what someone can be turned into. But it's different now, he thinks. He gave it up willingly; it has to count for something.]
action;
I-I'm sorry! Sorry! I should have knocked! I'll just- I'll leave it... hang on...!
[She starts edging sideways, trying to find a place to set the clothing down, without uncovering her face. This is awkward. She's gonna hit a wall at this rate.]
action; 1/2
.....................
Oh. Woops.]
action;
And then the shower curtain talks.]
... You can put the clothes down now.
action;
I-I'll be in the kitchen...!
[RUN LIKE THE WIND]
action;
But he puts on his clothes and wanders out, scrubbing his still-wet and hardly brushed hair. He needs to go retrieve his jacket from the shuttle, but this isn't so bad. Just usually feels a little naked without that jacket. He's still a bit woozy, though. Bloodloss is a real bitch and a half, and his stomach twists at how empty it is.
He flops tiredly on the kitchen table.
....
Someone left a plate of half-eaten cereal-something, so he grabs it and eats it lazy.]
action;
A-ah! Wait, wait, that's not edible yet!
action; 1/2
He blinks up owlishly, spoon in his mouth.]
action;
[He slowly puts the bowl back where he found it, mildly disappointed.]
action;
It was supposed to be for dessert, but... if you're that hungry, eat this while I cook, okay?
[Gonna turn the burner on now. Pancakes take like three minutes, so try to muster up some chill, buddy.]
action;
But his eyes land on the mochi and stay on it.]
... Mmhm.
[You've won. He slides over the little container passively, though his stomach gurgles otherwise. Apparently he's pretty hungry. All that transfusion-ing, and whatnot.]
Umm. Could just grab a can... if you want the rest of that.
[He doesn't cook anything from the cans, but it's fine. He doesn't usually eat to enjoy the taste anyway... It's nice when he does, but. He knows it's not smart to get used to good-tasting food.]
action;
[She pours a scoop of batter onto the pan, and just listen to that satisfying sizzle! While it cooks, she's off to get a plate and fork.]
Do you like anything on your pancakes? We don't have syrup or anything, but we can fake the butter taste... ooh, or fruit flavours! I bet I can whip up some strawberry sauce!
Re: action;
[He looks like he's trying really hard to remember.
What did he like on pancakes....? Before the end times?]
Anything'S... good. S'been a few decades... since I had those.
action;
[What the heck, that's way too long. Determined now to make the best pancakes their shitty rations can offer, she gets busy making a sweet fruit flavoured syrup while the cakes simmer on the burner.]
Why's it been so many years?
action;
Apocalypse.
[His lips twitch faintly.]
Great pancake famine of '64.
action;
That's a terrible apocalypse! You should have mentioned it sooner, I'd have made them whenever you wanted.
action;
Better to not get used to good food.
action;
No, no way! I can't agree with that at all. Not being able to have good things all the time means you need to enjoy it more when you get the chance! Like giving yourself a little reward, when you work hard and don't get much for it. People can survive on plain rice every day, but you can feel extra-alive if you give it a little pinch of salt or soy sauce once in a while!
[And lo, a pair of pancakes drizzled with red fruit syrup is set in front of him, complete with a fork and a young girl's expectant stare. See!? Doesn't it look more appetizing than the plain, sloppy mix you were eating before?]
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