[Accidental Video] y'all suck

[theroadwarrior]

[Max knew this whole stupid mind powers thing was a generally awful idea. Elizabeth and even a little bit of Rey's work on the comms (even if he still would rather glare at her, in private) had done a relatively bang-up job making Max think maybe there was a shadow of possibility this powers business would actually do any good for them. Besides — if he could calm his mind down enough to actually control it, he would stop giving away memories and hallucinations and feelings all willy nilly. So yes, he tried focusing, tried materializing things, tried to keep it all in check. Nothing too personal — just channeled it. Other than a few rather personal thoughts hovering through the cracks from other people he'd never know the names of, he has had pretty good luck.

'Til of course, a particularly rough series of nightmares had caused him to muck things up. He'd woken up in the corner of his room with something heavy and rough against his jaw and cheekbones and lips. Somewhere in his fervent dreaming, he'd gone and materialized that fucking muzzle; the same one he had supposedly locked up in his locker, kept away so that it couldn't actually get used against him again. And now it's on his fucking face. 

So he does the totally wise thing, which is struggling pathetically to remove it with his hands before he rushes into the nearest kitchen and starts pulling out drawers and ripping open cabinets. The motions are rough and not too careful, and his network device crashes onto the ground and displays him pretty much wrecking one of your kitchen areas. This drawer? He's pouring it out on the counter and digging around. It's all spoons, who needs spoons. There's a knife and he tries to shove it under the padlock behind his head and scrape it open, but it's just grinding down the grooves on the blade.

As he pushes over appliances and spills someone's coffee, this is an approximate translation one can hear while he spits the dummy:]

Fucking [INCOHERENT CURSING] shi—fuchgk [INCOHERENT GROWLING] my face, for fuck's sake, bloodghy— [???????] FUCK!

[WHERE THE FUCK ARE ALL YOUR SHARP THIN STABBY OBJECTS, I THOUGHT THIS WAS AN AWESOME HIGH-TECH KITCHEN

EGG-BEATERS ARE NOT GOING TO FUCKING CUT IT.

He tugs pretty pathetically on the long chain hanging there, slips his fingers under the thick metal bands before he tries to shove a butterknife into the keyslot.

....

THWUMP.

This the sound of his forehead softly thunking against the cabinet door in frustration.

... Well, maybe there's a decent nail file somewhere in engineering or something...

Fuck your powers y'all can eat your powers and get indigestion and cark it, for all he cares.]


((OOC: Action permissible for Nami and Elizabeth, have fun girls.))

Comments

...I don't know when this chronology is with respect to our plans ... winging it

[bespectacle]

Hey!

[Harry's tiny face flutters around the fallen comm device.] You-- umm. Angry-- [he lapses into a pause.] I got-- I mean, I recognize your muzzle. Because. [He's seen it flashing through his mind's eye and erratic his nightmares recently.] And you punched me in the face the other month. But no hard feelings, that's not what I mean. Mate, you've got to calm down. This mind magic stuff always goes woolly when your temper's up.

[Harry is an expert at being terrible at it, actually.]

winging it is the best thing

[theroadwarrior]

[You recognize it????

... Actually, you do look familiar, yourself. Or rather, your voice is hideously familiar, and he has enough recollection that he's aware he probably saw you in one of his memories. But which one... give him a moment. He glares down at the comm device, but then cocks his head. Oh. Right. Hmm. He thinks he does remember hitting that face. Maybe?

... Nope, no, no recollection of hitting that face.

Don't be intimidated, though, he's a big ol' teddy bear deep, deep, deep down. Deep.]

Who're you?

[Yeah he's asking while staring down at your face.

Do you feel short, Harry.]

[bespectacle]

[Maybe. A little. He's never been hugely tall anyways.]

Harry, [says Harry.] Harry Potter. I'm a wizard, like Sirius and Remus, if you've met them. Back in my world there's all this magic about memories and controlling them and hiding them, so I'm going off of that mainly.

[A beat.] I never caught your name.

[theroadwarrior]

[A wizard. A wizard, you say. Even after everything he's seen here, he's still unsure if Harry is just another typical psychotic. He ignores the request for a name, having no desire to give one, as usual.]

You have... magic in your world?

[He feels even crazier than usual, asking that, thanks.]

wings into this too

[kutte]

[ jesus christ he can feel that??? ]

Give it a fucking rest before you stab yourself! Christ, we got better tools.

[theroadwarrior]

[felt what? this??? when he waps his forehead again?]

Shut up.

[Not even looking @ you MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.

He needs a thinner knife, yes.]

[kutte]

I'm not gonna shut up and wait for you to stab up both in the skull, asshole.

[ PUT THE KNIFE DOWN THANKS ]

[theroadwarrior]

[?????? Why are you so buttchafed.

Max goes right back to chiseling, thanks.

If he accidentally pokes the back of his head a few times with a dull knife it's not that big a deal, right? Right. Have a nice day with your new feelings.]

video; 1/2

[oversight]

[ Well that's... disturbing.

Blake notices the feed on his phone springing to life and he's able to observe this spectacle as he fiddles with a switch he's been slowly repairing. The low angle makes him feel small and the mask—

He shifts uncomfortably and tries to put the whole scene out of his mind, effectively ending the connection. Honestly, no one likes to be spied on, whether it was an accident or otherwise, so John really doesn't feel the need to comment. But then, as a little more time passes, he finds he can't help that niggling urge he has to sew together the various misshapen pieces into a bigger, more complete pattern.

So he calls back. ]

Hey, someone in engineerin' oughta be able to help with that. Don't go stabbin' yourself with kitchen knives 'til you've exhausted other means, that's what I always say.

[ Seriously, dude. Get some help. ]

video; 2/2

[oversight]

Oh, and... call me back after you get that stuff sorted, yeah? Gotta question I wanna ask.

[ And that's where he'll leave it since he knows Max is a man of very few words. ]

1/2

[theroadwarrior]

[WELL FIRSTLY HE KICKS THE COMM DEVICE

SO PISS OFF, DRINKING COP, I DO WHAT I WANT!]

text.

[theroadwarrior]

[.......................... Ugh.

Questions, his favorite.

A few hours later:]

what.

text.

[oversight]

[ Oh, text. Good. Blake's much more capable via text message. ]

Have you ever considered shaving your head?

[video]

[circumitus]

Looks like you need help.

[Before you cut your face up, Max. You don't want your face to end up looking like Rey's, do you?]

[video]

[theroadwarrior]

[He squints at her from where he works.

Maybe he should be mildly flustered by the fact that everyone is seeing him trashing a kitchen with a big ol' muzzle, looking like a weirdo. Maybe. Mostly he's just grumpy as fuck. I totally trusted you, Rey. You villain.]

I don't.

[He sighs through his nose. Help? Him? No way.

It's not like he came from a situation where everyone was helping him tons.

Nope.]

[video]

[circumitus]

[THANKS REYBAMA whoa there bro, you can't blame this one on her.]

Sure you don't. From the looks of things, it's so clear that you've got everything under control.

[insert dripping sarcasm here]

[video]

[theroadwarrior]

[SHOOTIN' DAGGERS YOUR WAY.

Why are you so mean to him, gosh, you act like he's been troublesome or something smh.

...Is their CR simply just a lot of glowering?]

[Action]

[mikangirl]

[...

Yeah, Nami is having second thoughts about using this kitchen. If any of the inarticulate swearing and yelling and thumping that echoes down the hall outside is anything to go by. And chain rattling...? She hovers outside the door, trying to work out what the hell that is without, y'know, making eye contact or anything.

Does this place have a prison
Is there an escaped prisoner in here
Is there an escaped lunatic in here

all of the above

...if there is, is that a bad thing? This whole ship is kind of creepy-ass, just--

--huh. Now it's gone silent, and it takes her a moment to hear the more gentle thuds that sound kind of pathetic, which gives her enough courage to actually kind of. Creep in.

Oh, it's just you.]

Max...?

[What the hell.]

Re: [Action]

[songburdened]

[ Elizabeth has been spending a lot of time in the kitchen, considering her desire to learn how to cook. She's considering how best to use the products she'd obtained from the gardens when she hears the commotion and freezes, wary. Booker would advise her to get out of there; it like isn't safe, after all, and she's had her fill of danger.

... And yet. There isn't any harm in seeing what's happening, is there? If someone asks what she heard, she wouldn't have much to tell them aside from some enthusiastic banging and rifling around in the drawers. So, taking a big breath, the brunette peeks around the corner. ]

Oh! [ She remembers him from the hallways, when she'd made bread appear from thin air. The strangely quiet man from the corridor was now tearing apart the kitchen, to... remove the mask, she assumed. Elizabeth smiles slowly, watching his progress, making note of his... muzzle.

Well, she can always run if she has to. ]

Do you... need any help?

[ It's then that she notes Nami nearby and offers a smile to the stranger. ]

Hello. Did this just happen? This... whatever this is, exactly.

[Action]

[theroadwarrior]

[Oh look, it's the woman who knows his name against his will.

Hello, orange-haired woman. He barely even glances at her, grunting an affirmative, as if to say yep, yeah, that's my name, all while wearing his best scowl as he attempts to chisel down the knife into the padlock. Clearly he's got this under control, lady.

... Ladies.

The other shows up, and his shoulders sag a little, glancing around the mess he's made with a rather exasperated bend to his caged mouth. When Elizabeth asks if he needs help, he relents a response.]

No.

...

Yes.

[His pride and independence is horribly overshadowed by how much he hates this mask.

He finally turns to look at them, dropping the wrecked knife on the counter. On the bright side, other than a few very slightly bleeding nicks on the back of his head from the blade, he hasn't exactly gone too crazy with the silverware. Calm. He breathes in and out. It will be off his face eventually. He has to remember that, when he feels caged in. Yeah. There is plenty aboard the ship that can remove a muzzle.

He says, rather cryptically (or maybe not as cryptic as expected):]

Dreamed it on.

[Action]

[mikangirl]

I get it.

[She spent some time with Tadashi down at the bar when he was imagining up baseball caps. It's not too far a stretch that someone might subconsciously create something while having a dream. Or a nightmare, in this case, she assumes.

She doesn't get why a muzzle, but that's something she's not going to ask. Not after their last tetchy conversation at the bar. Instead, Nami runs a hand over her mouth, giving Elizabeth a glance and a quick smile. The question got answered, so...]

Barring a high-tech solution, we can pick the lock. Assuming it has a padlock. [She can't see from the front, but it makes sense.]

permatext.

[culver]

[nill is horrified. not by what the man is doing, per se. she's horrified by the anger and fear she sees in his eyes--the same anger and fear she saw in heine's eyes too many times. if she didn't know better, she'd think that the dog lived inside this man.

her hands shake as she types. she uses the text-to-voice function on her comm so that a computerized, feminine voice speaks her words:]

Please stop. Someone will help you.

[theroadwarrior]

[He stops, gaze whipping to the screen. Nill would be the first to see the genuine misery of the situation — he feels like he's trapped, even though his arms and legs are as free as they can be. The muzzle means a lot of things. Crappy things. And getting rid of it had been done with such a sense of freedom and disgust, he's dying to get it off a second time.

He's tense, but the sound of the voice is new to him.

Who are you...? He's never heard the text-to-voice before, so his mind goes back to a distant childhood, one where he envisions body snatchers and robots and aliens as a boy. Considering he's in space, he thinks it's fair to think that maybe this little voice is a robot. Hell, it could be his actual phone, for all he knows.]

How—?

[culver]

[that's it. that's the look she's seen on heine, exactly. and, what's more--she'd seen it on her own face all those years ago before she was rescued. the feeling of helplessness, of hopelessness. it makes her stomach sink and her heart thump too hard.

she breathes raggedly before typing.]

There are tools on the ship. To cut things like that.

[theroadwarrior]

[Though he's still tense, he at least stops stomping around the kitchen.

So there's that. He quiets, bowing his head in quiet defeat, because a.) he still has the muzzle on and b.) he's surrendering to the idea that people are offering him steps on how to remove it. He had admittedly let his panic spiral a bit, waking up out of a sweat-inducing nightmare with this damn thing back on... Still. What good is he if he can't handle it?

The memory of Furiosa slowly holding out the nail file crosses his foggy mind.]

... Shuttlebay?