Max Maximum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
maximumcake) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2022-12-10 12:17 pm
maximumcake) wrote in come_sailaway2022-12-10 12:17 pm
Welcome Max Maximum [Open]
Who: Max Maximum & YOU
What: Introing Max to the game using the same exact prompts from the TDM because they are still good
When: Timey-whimey but let's say Dec 10-17-ish range (so like that first week here)
Where: All over, places mentioned in the prompts
Warnings: This character's backstory comes baked-in with some things that may be triggering: slavery/servitude, sexual abuse/mental abuse, biting/bloodplay (because vampires), unhealthy power dynamics I have an opt-out RIGHT HERE for anyone who would like to specify any topics they want me to avoid.
1. You know the drill (Dec 10th)
One shock leads to another, leads to another. It was bad enough waking up in an unfamiliar place alone. But then he was compelled to come to drill, and meet that lady with no face. How is that possible? How is any of this possible? He tried asking her but all the answers he got were vague and unsatisfying.
"Please," he pleads to the nearest person who walks by. For such a tall and athletic man, Max looks for all the world like a cowering lost puppy, complete with big watery brown eyes. "Have you seen Lord Osborne? Has anyone seen him? I have to get back to him."
2. Maybe I'm a different breed
It's been days now. He kept hoping maybe this was some terrible nightmare. But he's still here. It's the longest he's been without his master in seven years. In the back of his mind, he always wished and hoped a day might come when he could be free. Not like this. This isn't relief. This is terrifying in its abruptness. What can he do? Who can he trust?
He only knows one way to cope--sticking to his routine. 5:30 am he's in the gym, running, then lifting, then drilling martial art techniques, until sweat soaks the tank top and shorts he scavenged from Tommy Bahama. 8:00 am he goes to the pool to swim laps for another hour after that. Then he finishes with stretching and yoga poolside. After that, he grabs some coffee and gets himself cleaned up. He arrived here in a nice suit, it seems to get washed every day, somehow, so he goes on wearing it. (Just his luck he ended up with one of his least favorite ties, the gold paisley one. Why couldn't it have been the nice navy blue one?)
By 11:00 am he's washed, dressed, and ready to present himself. This brings him to the problem. Usually, now is when he would go upstairs and find his vampire master. He'd make himself a hearty brunch and then sit at the table discussing the affairs for the day, plan what chores need doing. But his master has not appeared and everything seems to clean itself. What is he supposed to do with all these unfilled hours?
Catch him between noon and 7:00 pm all over the ship, trying anything and everything to stay busy. He scours the bookshelves in the library for interesting titles. The Tommy Bahama has seemingly endless rows of clothing for him to look through...though not much to suit his style which shows in all the sour faces he makes at those gaudy patterns. He goes to the arcade to try and distract himself with games. The casino too. He's not bad at cards. Playing against vampires with hundreds of years of experience bluffing means he's pretty used to losing. He's a good sport about it. Max makes his way to Sand Dollars several times a day to feed his coffee addiction. Although, the way he jitters and spooks at every little sound or sideways glance makes it seem like more caffeine is the last thing he needs.
By the evening, as early as it feels safe, he can be found occupying a seat at one of the many bars (except for Tauva, because his master was always against smoking), nursing whiskey after whiskey with his shoulders hunched down, like he's trying to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. Sometimes the fear and hopelessness overcome him, and he sniffles into his glass, hiding his face from view while he wipes at his stinging eyes. He will stay huddled up like this for hours, well past midnight, because he can't bring himself to go back to that room and sleep alone. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees all his worst fears coming true. But, he can't keep up this pattern forever. Sooner or later, his head thunks against the bar and he starts to lightly snore. Not exactly an ideal way to catch any rest, but he feels less guilty this way, like at least he fought for as long as he could not to get comfortable here.
3. You actually eat like this?
There are a lot of things that suck about being here. But the worst--the absolute worst--is that buffet. He's standing there frozen in place with a mixture of disgust and horror while he surveys the rows of homogenous lukewarm food offerings. No. He can't do it. He can't. Where are the kitchens? He'll make something himself!
"People actually like eating here?"
4. Wildcard me!
I am up for anything you want to throw at me. You can find me on plurk at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
KansaiBanzai or discord at Cmdr.Crackers#5481 come and get it. FYI, since Max is an OC there is a ton of info about him on his journal. Feel free to ask if you want clarification on anything at all. :)
What: Introing Max to the game using the same exact prompts from the TDM because they are still good
When: Timey-whimey but let's say Dec 10-17-ish range (so like that first week here)
Where: All over, places mentioned in the prompts
Warnings: This character's backstory comes baked-in with some things that may be triggering: slavery/servitude, sexual abuse/mental abuse, biting/bloodplay (because vampires), unhealthy power dynamics I have an opt-out RIGHT HERE for anyone who would like to specify any topics they want me to avoid.
1. You know the drill (Dec 10th)
One shock leads to another, leads to another. It was bad enough waking up in an unfamiliar place alone. But then he was compelled to come to drill, and meet that lady with no face. How is that possible? How is any of this possible? He tried asking her but all the answers he got were vague and unsatisfying.
"Please," he pleads to the nearest person who walks by. For such a tall and athletic man, Max looks for all the world like a cowering lost puppy, complete with big watery brown eyes. "Have you seen Lord Osborne? Has anyone seen him? I have to get back to him."
2. Maybe I'm a different breed
It's been days now. He kept hoping maybe this was some terrible nightmare. But he's still here. It's the longest he's been without his master in seven years. In the back of his mind, he always wished and hoped a day might come when he could be free. Not like this. This isn't relief. This is terrifying in its abruptness. What can he do? Who can he trust?
He only knows one way to cope--sticking to his routine. 5:30 am he's in the gym, running, then lifting, then drilling martial art techniques, until sweat soaks the tank top and shorts he scavenged from Tommy Bahama. 8:00 am he goes to the pool to swim laps for another hour after that. Then he finishes with stretching and yoga poolside. After that, he grabs some coffee and gets himself cleaned up. He arrived here in a nice suit, it seems to get washed every day, somehow, so he goes on wearing it. (Just his luck he ended up with one of his least favorite ties, the gold paisley one. Why couldn't it have been the nice navy blue one?)
By 11:00 am he's washed, dressed, and ready to present himself. This brings him to the problem. Usually, now is when he would go upstairs and find his vampire master. He'd make himself a hearty brunch and then sit at the table discussing the affairs for the day, plan what chores need doing. But his master has not appeared and everything seems to clean itself. What is he supposed to do with all these unfilled hours?
Catch him between noon and 7:00 pm all over the ship, trying anything and everything to stay busy. He scours the bookshelves in the library for interesting titles. The Tommy Bahama has seemingly endless rows of clothing for him to look through...though not much to suit his style which shows in all the sour faces he makes at those gaudy patterns. He goes to the arcade to try and distract himself with games. The casino too. He's not bad at cards. Playing against vampires with hundreds of years of experience bluffing means he's pretty used to losing. He's a good sport about it. Max makes his way to Sand Dollars several times a day to feed his coffee addiction. Although, the way he jitters and spooks at every little sound or sideways glance makes it seem like more caffeine is the last thing he needs.
By the evening, as early as it feels safe, he can be found occupying a seat at one of the many bars (except for Tauva, because his master was always against smoking), nursing whiskey after whiskey with his shoulders hunched down, like he's trying to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. Sometimes the fear and hopelessness overcome him, and he sniffles into his glass, hiding his face from view while he wipes at his stinging eyes. He will stay huddled up like this for hours, well past midnight, because he can't bring himself to go back to that room and sleep alone. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees all his worst fears coming true. But, he can't keep up this pattern forever. Sooner or later, his head thunks against the bar and he starts to lightly snore. Not exactly an ideal way to catch any rest, but he feels less guilty this way, like at least he fought for as long as he could not to get comfortable here.
3. You actually eat like this?
There are a lot of things that suck about being here. But the worst--the absolute worst--is that buffet. He's standing there frozen in place with a mixture of disgust and horror while he surveys the rows of homogenous lukewarm food offerings. No. He can't do it. He can't. Where are the kitchens? He'll make something himself!
"People actually like eating here?"
4. Wildcard me!
I am up for anything you want to throw at me. You can find me on plurk at
POOL TIME
Anyway. It's the sound of water splashing, and activity in the pool that has him stirring, blinking blearily back into wakefulness. Jeff rubs his eyes, sitting up with a whine and--
--oh. Hey. There's a hot dude in the pool. A big hot dude.
Okay, he's going to take a moment to admire the view. Then: "Duuuude, it's way too early for exercise..."
no subject
"Sorry," he says, paddling over to the side so he can talk to the no-longer-sleeping man. "I was trying to be as quiet as I could. I'm almost done, but I can stop if you want me to."
no subject
"You can keep going. I'm not, like, the pool czar or anything..." Buuuut: "Is it cool if I hang here? I can go if you want, uh, privacy or something."
no subject
"I don't mind at all. Feel free to enjoy the view." Yes, that was a wink he just gave you Jeff, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you.
Max offers a hand up out of the pool while he introduces himself, "I'm Max Maximum. Pleasure to meet you."
no subject
"I will!" Whoa, Jeff. Play it cool. "I mean. Cool, thanks." Nailed it.
(He swears, he was actually cool once...)
And, of course, upon learning Max's name, Jeff's first thought is: is this guy a porn star? But, like, he's sure the guy gets that question all the time, both because he's hot, and because his name's Max Maximum, so. Jeff will thoughtfully sidestep his curiosity and leave that question in the dark where it belongs. He leans in to shake Max's hand.
"I'm Jeff. You're, like, the third Max I've met here..." A beat. "The other two are cool, too, so you're in good company."
no subject
"Well, you're the first Jeff I ever met, which must mean you're one of a kind." Max's handshake is firm and professional, wetness from the pool aside.
"Did you and that bottle have a good time last night? No judgment, by the way."
no subject
"Oh yeah." There's something a little wry in his voice that gives away that he's not being totally honest. "I was a regular one-man party."
no subject
"Hey, if you ever feel like making it a two-man party, I'm up for it. And, if it makes you feel any better, I woke up with my nose squished against the bar this morning. At least you made it into a lounge."