Text/Action.

[theroadwarrior]

Who: Max and you
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Starstruck
When: Now-ish! Potential talk of mental health, but who knows! PTSD always, anyway.

[Max is not really social, in the days that follow the calibrations. In fact, he's downright hard to find — even for the Starstruck crew. Not mysteriously so, as there's always a shuttle missing and one can assume Max is marooning himself nearby in space itself, but he's still even more out of sigh than usual. He mainly just checks in to make sure nothing much has changed. Finally, after so much avoidance, he wanders back in and appears to seem... semi-manageable as company.

Or maybe he just got sick of space. Feel free to find him around the Starstruck; he's not leaving it much, if at all. He likes napping on the lounge chair, leaving the record to spin without the needle or a tune. If your character is really quiet they can sneak around him and play something. Or maybe try to stir him. But — wait. What's that? Written in Max's handwriting, there's a little note on the spot beside him.

Such a pleasant note. He's apparently learning after the last few punches or near-punches he's given people.

Or, you might find him with his rather nicely-crafted knee brace off; it's sitting beside him as he sits at his desk, and he's carefully working on a busted part to the shuttle with a melding gun. His bum leg is stretched out, relaxed, with a little TLC — one of those nice icy hot packs to quell the ache. Is that a single solitary beer bottle on the desk? Shucks, he's just having a nice cold one while he works. Or, you know, maybe a cuppa tea he took from the kitchen. Maybe. Maybe you find him in the bathroom, trimming his beard, because he hasn't been cutting it and it's getting way too out of hand. Like his hair, which is currently trying to go down his forehead and eat his eyes.

Anyway. He's had some things on his mind. What better way to ask than a text, so he can possibly ignore replies or disconnect early or take his time building his social gauge again?]


medication.

how far has it advanced for you
back home.

doesn't really exist anymore in my world. not a lot other than some natural remedies.

no pharmacies to visit.



anyone need to take them here?


[Just... wondering. He's got a bad knee, after all.

And, well. A bad brain. But he's not about to go into detail about that being a reason he's asking.]



if you were in my head




leave it alone. don't want to talk.

Comments

text.

[torsion]

Hard to compare it with "not existing" as a baseline.

Guess it's pretty advanced. Not as advanced as the technology and everything here is, but we can create a vaccine in a week or sometimes a day if the circumstances are right. Guess that's the extent of my knowledge on the industry outside of pharmaceutical companies and my specific area of it.

I don't need to take any, but I was on some pain meds semi-recently before coming here. Sometimes the pain isn't bad and you need it to push forward, but other times it's just so unbearable that you can't sleep. It was a bit of both columns for me. Still take sleep aids or over the counter stuff for little aches and pains occasionally.

Not sure if you really mean you don't want a reply or not. In that case, it's no big deal.

[mucked]

[ -- she'd poured herself a cup of tea. peggy's certain she did. and when her attention had been briefly called elsewhere, she'd stepped out of the kitchen only to return not long later and find her cup missing.

peggy damn well knows the first place to look for it. she stalks her way into the cargo bay and comes to stand on the other side of max's work desk, hands perched imperiously on her hips. ]

Last straw, Max.

[ oh, aren't we feeling dire today. ]

[theroadwarrior]

[Max looks up with slightly rounded eyes, as if he's already innocent of whatever she's huffing about -- a sort of "ahh?" to her arrival, bookmarked with him adjusting his leg just slightly to avoid it going numb on him. The imp takes a moment to look at the tea cup, and then at the woman, and then back to his work on the shuttle component.]

We don't have much of that back home.

... Straw.

[What a nuisance. And more than willing to face the captain's sour mood.]

Text.

[theroadwarrior]

[Not the first time Max's awful writing and social skills lack enough comprehension.

Can't blame her for assuming anything about those scattered thoughts.]

replies are fine
Just not for calibrations

Side-effects?
Old injury?

[mucked]

[ she reaches for the tea cup -- planning to take it back. reclaim it, as it were. ]

It's not cute, you know. This act of yours.

[ her lecturing voice is out in full regalia, this afternoon. ]

[theroadwarrior]

[He huffs.]

Don't want to be. Would rather take after you and be curdled milk.

[Also that cup is half-drank, on closer inspection. The devil.

He's back to working on the blasted doohickey without much fanfare over the thievery.]

[mucked]

[ she tilts the cup towards herself, tsking and and letting her lip curl when she sees how much has already gone to waste. an unkind sentiment, that, when ordinarily she wouldn't consider even his most egregious thefts to be a waste of her tea. peggy's usually more permissible about it. ]

Well, that should be easy enough for you. [ a huff of breath as she tilts the half-drank and lukewarm tea towards her mouth, fully intending to finish it off despite the fact that he started it. ] I've never met a man quite so curdled.

[theroadwarrior]

Mm, at least that's usual. Calibrations and first mate out, though... Made you more ornery than usual lately.

[He moves to stand, using the desk to balance the weight his bum leg doesn't want to, reaching for another wrench that's smaller for his task. He's been rather avoidant, but most expect that out of him to begin with.]

[mucked]

And you've been running away. More than usual. Lately.

[ peggy drains the cup before slamming it back down on the table. two can play at this game. ]

[postocular]

Not really sure. Finding doctors isn't easy. Medicine is starting to expire.

I don't know how everywhere else is, but I don't think there's a group of doctors making new things or a cure.

text;

[noprophecies]

[leave what alone? We ain't talkin' about shit, bro]

compared to most worlds we are not advanced at all but at least our remedies do not take like arse like modern medicine does. it is mostly natural, though human physicians are able to make proper medicine if the problem calls for it

what is a pharmacy

[torsion]

[ It's fair enough. Her social skills can be lacking at times, but the ones she does display these days are all a distraction from how she feels. That creeping feeling of dread when she closes her eyes and she forgets where she is. ]

That's what that memory thing was called, right? Don't wanna talk about that, anyway. No offense.

Depends on the medication. Sleep aids can cause drowsiness and a lot have warnings of doing things in your sleep like eating or even driving. Can be addictive, just like pain meds. Usually things like upset stomach or bowel movement changes or dry mouth. Sometimes things more extreme.

Me? Got a bunch.

action

[wingedman]

[After Sam catches sight of Max's network post, he decides to seek the man out. It's not hard to find him where he's working on a shuttle part. He'd noticed the way he favored his knee in their previous encounter, and he wonders if he's asking about medication for that, or for other reasons.]

Hey, Max.

[Sam always makes sure to make plenty of noise around anyone he knows has PTSD, former soldier or not. Trauma can kick in at the worst times, and nobody needs to get hurt because they thought he was sneaking up on him.]

Your knee doing all right?

[theroadwarrior]

Not really running away when there's nowhere to run to.

[Nice try, Peggy. He's turning right back to his work after getting that wrench.]

Just don't want questions. Annoying.

[theroadwarrior]

medicine's expired long time ago for us.

world ending, right? or feels like it's been. not a good outlook so far, anyway

[He's been around enough of you zombie survivor world people over the years. He got into a fistfight with Daryl naked once.]

[postocular]

[ Max, you lead such a wild life... ]

Feels like it has yeah.

action

[theroadwarrior]

[As likely predicted, his eyes snap open -- it's rare to wake up quietly, peacefully, or even groggily with him. As much as he's adapted to this place (for the worst, he thinks, most days), it's hard to undo twenty years of jerking awake with a gasp or with swinging fists. It's not a severe reaction, though; Sam knows how to handle his type, something Max is well aware of, and he sits up stiffly to eye the man.

Hnn. He twists his leg a little, looking down with a frown.]

... Still works enough.

[Wastelander medical: if it still works a little, it's good enough.]

[theroadwarrior]

sleep aids seem like a bad idea
need to move quick, always be alert, in case of emergency. raids. surprise attacks.

you treat em with medication?

[theroadwarrior]

undead or something, right?

walking corpses.

met your father, before you or the other girl

[He has a hard time remembering names, forgive him Maggie. :(]

text;

[theroadwarrior]

pharmacy was a place they keep medication, before the world fell.

what sort of natural medicine?

[postocular]

Yeah, that's it.

In that other place you were at? You could again, because he's here now.

[torsion]

They're pretty difficult to predict, but they can be just as necessary as being alert. It's something I relate to, though. Emergencies, I mean.

Sometimes, especially if it involves a surgery. I only take painkillers when necessary. As you said, sometimes you need to be alert and aware. Sometimes being numb is worse.

[mucked]

You could do what I do and simply not answer them when they're asked.

[ -- she waits. it seems she's not going anywhere. ]

[theroadwarrior]

[He hmmmphs in that sandpaper voice, not quite looking at her.]

Look how much we have in common.

... Except I don't linger around. I scowl at a distance.

text;

[noprophecies]

why would doctors not keep them, they are the ones who give them yes?

teas, mixtures of herbs turned into something edible or something to place on a wound, things like that