everybody's starstruck in june.

[mucked]

Who: starstruck crew & visitors
Broadcast: n/a
Action: aboard the ship
When: june

[ another month; another mingle. but there are changes in the air! the starstruck has some fresh crew to boast of, as well as a spiffing new lounge. things have been difficult, lately -- the common area might make for a great place to decompress and socialize with your fellow starstruckers.

after all, it seems the captain's gone and requisitioned max's record player. for the first week in june, it'll be returned again and again to the new lounge. good luck hiding it from her, rockatanksy.

ready steady go! ]

Comments

[theroadwarrior]

[He picks up the whole record player, still playing Aretha Franklin.

And then he leaves with it.

Bye.]

[wingedman]

[Sam just blinks at the sudden appearance and disappearance - but he has an inkling of who this might be. Peggy's talked about him, if only briefly. So he doesn't make a fuss, doesn't try to go after him and grab the record player back. He just shrugs philosophically and relaxes in his chair. It's nice to have the music to break the silence, but it's not necessary. He's just fine without it.]

[theroadwarrior]

[He does return not long after - Aretha's still singing her heart out in the cargo bay elsewhere, distant but there. As he moves to start sliding the records back into sleeves and whatnot, he does spare the furniture cursory glances; uneven. Hnnn. He considers bringing his tool collection in to work on leveling it.

Without a word to Sam again, he leaves with the records, and returns with a toolkit to plop down, stretch his bad leg out, and start studying the underside of one of the wobbly chairs nearby with the most intense expression.

... Once again, without even acknowledging Sam.

He's in his own little world, seems like.]

[wingedman]

[Sam just picks up one of the books in the pile and starts reading. If he's not uncomfortable with him around, then he's just going to stay put for the moment. But he might as well introduce himself first-]

I'm Sam. I just transferred here; I'm the new engineer. I'm one of Steve's friends from back home.

[theroadwarrior]

[He glances at him, finally, eyebrow raised.

Now, to be rude to Sam or not — well, he's not quite as annoying as FDR was, and he actually gives people space. There's a whole process to Max's picking and choosing, of who gets his most unhappiest of company. He turns away toward the toolbox again, and makes a light huffing noise that sounds suspiciously light.]

Hnn. Friend of Captain Lovebird and First Mate Beau.

You some kind of hero, too?

[wingedman]

[Sam has to hold back a laugh at the nicknames, although he's definitely filing them away for future use (mostly with Steve, because he doesn't have a death wish).]

Some kind, yeah. Though maybe not right now, since my wings are back home. Can't do much flying in space, anyway.

[theroadwarrior]

[... He cocks his head slightly, and those brows raise high on a scruffy head.

And yes, he may be looking behind him, where wings may be, because people here may genuinely have wings. Hmm. Maybe he's being less literal.]

... Pilot?

[wingedman]

Nah, I have- had a jetpack with wings. Couldn't fly a plane if my life depended on it.

[He's better than a pilot. Obviously.]

[theroadwarrior]

What, just decided you wanted to fly around one day?

[bruh]

[wingedman]

Something wrong with that?

[HE LIKES BIRDS OKAY.]

I was in the Air Force, got chosen for a special project. Except then I left, and didn't pick up the wings again till Steve needed help with one of his crazy-ass plans.

[theroadwarrior]

[... It's a little weird. Even if he's far weirder than a man who wants to apparently be a bird. But ah. That makes more sense.]

No wonder you're here.

... Bet the captain's already given you a speech about me, too.

[--oh shit he's self-aware]

[wingedman]

She mentioned you, yeah. I didn't get a speech, though.

[And although Sam suspects the speech is necessary, from what Peggy's said, he still looks a little amused by the prospect.]

[theroadwarrior]

Mmm...[He's gone to measuring the legs of the chair with some thought. His braced knee crackles a bit under his shifting weight.] Must've been on her good side that day. Liable to change week to week.

[wingedman]

As opposed to the side where she steals your record player?

[Making an educated guess here, because someone has to have taken it against his will, and the scheme has Peggy Carter written all over it.

(Unless it's one of the other members of the Starstruck he hasn't met yet, but Peggy seems uncommonly fond of Max.)]

[theroadwarrior]

[Oop, there's the sour-face button, you pressed it.]

It's my record player.

[wingedman]

No, man, I agree. It's yours, you should be able to have it where you want it.

[He holds his hands up in a conciliatory gesture that he hopes doesn't come across as patronizing.]

[theroadwarrior]

[Bless you, Sam, he's not mad at you. He's mad at Peggy. Eternally. But it'll probably take time for you to get the hang of Rockatansky speak. He seems appeased by the gesture and answer, and looks back at the chair; just needs a little extra wood on the bottom of it, make it less wobbly. He grumbles his complaints as he shifts again.]

Doesn't really exist anymore, back home. Records. Songs from before.

[He hefts the chair on its side, big ol' sitter that it is, and starts working on attaching a little extra bit of length on the jacked-up corner. He could'nt complain; something like this would be a steal in a wasteland. A good catch. Just needs a little elbow grease. He huffs.]

It's priceless.

[wingedman]

Good collection of music, too.

[Sam pauses, wonders how much to press him. But it's his choice, and hopefully he knows his own limits. (He really doesn't want to explain to Peggy how he triggered an episode in his first meeting with Max.)]

Before what?

[theroadwarrior]

[Strangely, with Max, talking about his world has never been an issue. But then again, aren't most of 'em like that? The world around them is fine, fair play, but the moment it becomes too personal, it's easier to just shut down and shut it all out. He stops, glancing back.]

Nuclear fallout.

End of... hnn. Everything.

Not much left from before. Especially music; not like this.