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)
ataraxion2015-07-02 10:03 pm
theroadwarrior) wrote in ataraxion2015-07-02 10:03 pm
Entry tags:
[Accidental Video] y'all suck
[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.))
'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...
((OOC: Action permissible for Nami and Elizabeth, have fun girls.))
[video]
[He did.]
...
[And no more than thirty seconds to a minute later...
[RECONNECTED, BITCH.]
Really? [So flat. So deadpan. So not completely put off for some reason.]
Was trying to offer you help, you know.
[video] 1/2
Re: [video]
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