Starstruck March Mingle Madness!

[theroadwarrior]

Who: People aboard the Starstruck, visitors and crew alike.
Broadcast: N/A
Action: SS Starstruck
When: The month of March!!

[Just your typical monthly mingle.]

Comments

[mucked]

You're a pain in my neck. That's sure and certain. [ her smile doesn't reach her eyes. ] But you're just about one of the least tyrannical sorts I've ever met.

[ she's confident he'd throw himself on his own sword, so to speak, before he jeopardized someone else's well-being -- not for heroism, perhaps, but a tragically low self-worth. ]

[theroadwarrior]

[Of course not. He's the bloodbag.

And maybe, just maybe, he's Max. He's starting to get confident of that.]

Nicest thing you've ever said, right there.

[Teasing her maybe. He cocks his head to the side, apparently thoughtful.]

... Maybe that's why I'm here.

[mucked]

To be my own personal source of pain and administrative angst? [ peggy just about rolls her eyes at him. ] Very likely.

[ -- she doubts that's what he meant. and yet. ]

[theroadwarrior]

[Haa.]

Hmph... No. Mean more like this place is my Johnny Cash.

I don't think I'd work anywhere else. Not anywhere normal, anyway.

[Trying to imagine it... Being dropped in a normal society now...?

He'd probably end up in prison. Johnny would've been knocking at his jail cell.]

[mucked]

You may very well be right. [ she's been here so long that it's hard to recall that none of this is normal. she wakes up; she works; she eats; she exercises; she falls asleep curled next to the man she'd loved and thought lost. there's a part of her that almost craves that this be normal ] At least, 'working' would have taken a hell of a lot longer.

[ and nasty therapy, but she doesn't want to tell him so. ]

[theroadwarrior]

[If it even would have worked at all.

Max doesn't have a lot of hope for himself in a normal world. He barely has a flicker of hope for being semi-okay here. Baby steps. Maybe someday he'd believe it; but he'll never me normal, that's for sure. He huffs, humored it seems by Peggy's words, instead of believing.]

Nice thought.

[He rubs a thumb along the shotgun's makeshift barrel.]

I'll leave the job of 'working' to you.