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)
driftfleet2017-05-29 10:10 am
theroadwarrior) wrote in driftfleet2017-05-29 10:10 am
Entry tags:
Text. stuck in the middle with you.
Who: Max Rockatansky
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Starstruck
When: Today, for a short little glitch post.
(Also warning for some serious death talk in a thread below.)
[Max doesn't ask for a lot in life. Food of some kind so he doesn't starve. Water so he doesn't have to drink questionable things when its not there. A lack of ultra violence or cannibals. You know. Typical things. And he's been pretty good about behaving himself, keeping out of the way, not having any issues to speak of.
And then shit like this happens.
He's fiddling around at the little desk in the cargo bay when something peculiar happens. His screwdriver sticks to his hand. And no, he's been very hygienic, thank you — more so than usual — so there's really just one reason this is happening. He realizes it about when the empty tea cup on the desk also moves to stick to his arm.
Glitch.
So it goes. His time on the Starstruck the next few days are terribly bleak for him. See: the multitude of things that have somehow find a strange pulling gravity around him. It's not metal, really, it's anything. He's a Katamari character, and things just sort of fly and stick and he has to pry them off with way too much force necessary. Or they just fall off. In the kitchen, a plate falls off him at last, but shatters on the ground.
At one point, he just stays in the chair he's at, because if he stands up... Well...
It's stuck to his ass.
Records, hair pins, food (ugh), anything people leave behind...
And yes, people. People also stick to him.
This is the literal worst day of his life. Obviously. All the trauma that came before this is nothing.]
don't keep anything sharp or explosive on the starstruck right now.
might need remedies for nagging captains soon.
still tempted to saw the augment out of my neck sometimes.
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Starstruck
When: Today, for a short little glitch post.
(Also warning for some serious death talk in a thread below.)
[Max doesn't ask for a lot in life. Food of some kind so he doesn't starve. Water so he doesn't have to drink questionable things when its not there. A lack of ultra violence or cannibals. You know. Typical things. And he's been pretty good about behaving himself, keeping out of the way, not having any issues to speak of.
And then shit like this happens.
He's fiddling around at the little desk in the cargo bay when something peculiar happens. His screwdriver sticks to his hand. And no, he's been very hygienic, thank you — more so than usual — so there's really just one reason this is happening. He realizes it about when the empty tea cup on the desk also moves to stick to his arm.
Glitch.
So it goes. His time on the Starstruck the next few days are terribly bleak for him. See: the multitude of things that have somehow find a strange pulling gravity around him. It's not metal, really, it's anything. He's a Katamari character, and things just sort of fly and stick and he has to pry them off with way too much force necessary. Or they just fall off. In the kitchen, a plate falls off him at last, but shatters on the ground.
At one point, he just stays in the chair he's at, because if he stands up... Well...
It's stuck to his ass.
Records, hair pins, food (ugh), anything people leave behind...
And yes, people. People also stick to him.
This is the literal worst day of his life. Obviously. All the trauma that came before this is nothing.]
don't keep anything sharp or explosive on the starstruck right now.
might need remedies for nagging captains soon.
still tempted to saw the augment out of my neck sometimes.
1/3
[He's pretty sure it won't be. It'll be a ugly, natural death you'd see in the wastelands — in the wild, beyond civilization. Return to nature in some way, but it won't be pretty, and nobody who loves or even likes him will be there to send him off. Or more likely, someone will rip him to pieces out there and take his shit, leave him for the mutated vultures to find. But that's alright; it's what he expected since the day he got in his car and started driving, away from what he used to know. You don't do what he's done and come back clean on the other side. He's not exactly innocent himself, neither. He's had blood on his hands. He's tried to wash them, but at the end of the day, he's killed... mmm, who knows how many, on the Fury Road alone. Self defense don't change a damn thing. The Thunderdome was a bloodbath he'd signed up for. And he's turned his head away from plenty of people suffering and in need.
But really, especially now more than ever, he just wants to be left alone. He wants to know that the last time he saw it, the Citadel was taken, would grow. He doesn't think for a moment it'll all last, but he hopes just enough that maybe Furiosa and the girls would live long, together. Here, though. Here... he's not left alone. He can't even do anything stupid, because people catch him doing it. And even when he's having one of his episodes, people are there. People, always around, always insistent.
The wankers.]