TITLE: Sunshine, In A Bag
RATING: R
PAIRING: Will be Max/Alec but it could take a while (did u expect any other couple from me?lol)
DISTRIBUTION: Take it.... just lemme know where it's going
DISCLAIMER:Max and crew belong to James Cameron, Fox, etc. etc. etc. I will have some of my own characters in this but you'll be able to tell when they come up. The title is from the song Clint Eastwood by the Gorillaz. I thought it seemed kinda appropriate.
DEDICATION: To all the Max/Alec shippers who can all tell that all that fighting can be summed up in one word...... foreplay. lol
~~~
I ain't happy, feeling glad
I got sunshine, in a bag
I'm useless, but not for long
The future is coming on
~Clint Eastwood~Gorillaz~
~~~
Max swung her feet out of bed and shuddered as they brushed the cold wood floor. Today's the day. She didn't know when she had decided it but it had been back in her subconciousness for days and it suddenly felt right. She padded over to the closet and hoisted the bag, which had been packed for months, onto her shoulder.
She spared a final glance at Kyle who lay sprawled in the bed fast asleep. He had been a good distraction, nothing more. A tool to distract her from the fact that the world was falling apart. Max crept slowly down the stairs careful to avoidwaking the sleeping couples laying everywhere.
She stepped out into the morning air. Years ago the morning air could have been described as freash or damp but that was then. This was now. Now the air was harsh and polluted. The smog was thick and the sky hadn't been blue for a while. It was a hazy red-orange which burned your eyes if you looked at it too long.
Max slipped into the drivers seat of her car and reved the engine. She tossed her duffel into the back and pulled out of the long drive, cruising away from her life without a backward glance. It was the begining of the end. This was one of the few habitable places left in the world and under it's calm exterior a battle was raging.
The remaining Manticore escapees up against the "normal" humans who had managed to withstand the harsh condition of their home. It was a struggle over power and beliefes. Two confused groups loosing hope and fighting because they didn't know what else to do. They were helpless to stop the gradual destruction of their planet and no one likes feeling helpless.
Max shook her hair out, the wind whipping it back, as her car pushed 90mph. She couldn't pinpoint exactly when her motorcycle had lost it's appeal. Maybe it had been a gradual thing but eventually she had traded it in for a sleek black convertable.
She didn't know where she was going. It was an indistinct point but when she reached it she'd know. She had to find the Prowlers.
The Prowlers were a group of transgenis who fought on the side on the humans. Evening the odds a little. Max was convinced that's were she belonged. She had heard the stories of them and their elusive hideout as they spread through the whorehouse she had called home. She had filed them all away for the time when she would leave to join them. The one thing that remained consistant in all the stories was that they were virtually impossible to find. You just drove or walked or ran and if you really wanted to find them than you would.
They were the one's who questioned when they we became humans and transgenics rather than a single species. The transgenics were far from immortal but they never aged past twenty. They saw humans as a weak corupting force and blamed them for the world's sorry condition. The humans were simply a dying race stricking back.
Max caught sight of a sickly looking tree ahead. Trees were few and far between so she took a small joy in seeing one. Her car was the only one on the road and she knew all too well that it could stay that way for days. Travel was not a pleasent pasttime nowadays.
Max glanced down at her small hands gripping the steering wheel. Her fingers were coated in dried blood from her ragged nails. She had picked up the habit of chewing on them about ten years back and had found no reason to stop. She raised one hand to her mouth and tugged at an ugly hangnail which had been plagueing her for days. It came loose, tearing half of her nail with it. Dark red blood oozed from the new wound and began to trickle down her arm in crimson stripes. She took some comfort in this. She was a living, breathing, bleeding, eating, yawning, sneezing person. Not a transgenic freak.
She let her mind drift back 180 years. Back to the last time she really felt anything. She had friends who loved her and a purpose for exsisting. That had been before she found out that she would have to leave them all behind. She wouldn't get any old but they would. And they did. Her loyal friends abandoned her. Logan had been murdered at age 36 and Sketchy had died of a drug overdose four years later. Normal was the victim of a hit and run months after Sketchy's death and Alec had disappeared the next year. Original Cidy had survived to age 80 before leaving her peacefully in her sleep and Joshua had been one of the first war casualties in 2150. Max felt as though all this reminicing should be making her cry but she couldn't. She had cried far too long for them and it didn't bring them back.
Max wished despretly that she could locate the Prowlers and that they would provide her with some sort of companionship. Anything to end this dead state on nonfeeling she lived in.
~~~
I know that seems like a totally akward place to end but I'm not really sure if I'm gonna continue this and I dun wanna get too involved. I've got another story "Burning Bridges" going right now that I wanna finish and I suck at multitasking. Lemme know which I should finsh first!
Luv ya~ Amy
~~~~
RATING: R
PAIRING: Will be Max/Alec but it could take a while (did u expect any other couple from me?lol)
DISTRIBUTION: Take it.... just lemme know where it's going
DISCLAIMER:Max and crew belong to James Cameron, Fox, etc. etc. etc. I will have some of my own characters in this but you'll be able to tell when they come up. The title is from the song Clint Eastwood by the Gorillaz. I thought it seemed kinda appropriate.
DEDICATION: To all the Max/Alec shippers who can all tell that all that fighting can be summed up in one word...... foreplay. lol
~~~
I ain't happy, feeling glad
I got sunshine, in a bag
I'm useless, but not for long
The future is coming on
~Clint Eastwood~Gorillaz~
~~~
Max swung her feet out of bed and shuddered as they brushed the cold wood floor. Today's the day. She didn't know when she had decided it but it had been back in her subconciousness for days and it suddenly felt right. She padded over to the closet and hoisted the bag, which had been packed for months, onto her shoulder.
She spared a final glance at Kyle who lay sprawled in the bed fast asleep. He had been a good distraction, nothing more. A tool to distract her from the fact that the world was falling apart. Max crept slowly down the stairs careful to avoidwaking the sleeping couples laying everywhere.
She stepped out into the morning air. Years ago the morning air could have been described as freash or damp but that was then. This was now. Now the air was harsh and polluted. The smog was thick and the sky hadn't been blue for a while. It was a hazy red-orange which burned your eyes if you looked at it too long.
Max slipped into the drivers seat of her car and reved the engine. She tossed her duffel into the back and pulled out of the long drive, cruising away from her life without a backward glance. It was the begining of the end. This was one of the few habitable places left in the world and under it's calm exterior a battle was raging.
The remaining Manticore escapees up against the "normal" humans who had managed to withstand the harsh condition of their home. It was a struggle over power and beliefes. Two confused groups loosing hope and fighting because they didn't know what else to do. They were helpless to stop the gradual destruction of their planet and no one likes feeling helpless.
Max shook her hair out, the wind whipping it back, as her car pushed 90mph. She couldn't pinpoint exactly when her motorcycle had lost it's appeal. Maybe it had been a gradual thing but eventually she had traded it in for a sleek black convertable.
She didn't know where she was going. It was an indistinct point but when she reached it she'd know. She had to find the Prowlers.
The Prowlers were a group of transgenis who fought on the side on the humans. Evening the odds a little. Max was convinced that's were she belonged. She had heard the stories of them and their elusive hideout as they spread through the whorehouse she had called home. She had filed them all away for the time when she would leave to join them. The one thing that remained consistant in all the stories was that they were virtually impossible to find. You just drove or walked or ran and if you really wanted to find them than you would.
They were the one's who questioned when they we became humans and transgenics rather than a single species. The transgenics were far from immortal but they never aged past twenty. They saw humans as a weak corupting force and blamed them for the world's sorry condition. The humans were simply a dying race stricking back.
Max caught sight of a sickly looking tree ahead. Trees were few and far between so she took a small joy in seeing one. Her car was the only one on the road and she knew all too well that it could stay that way for days. Travel was not a pleasent pasttime nowadays.
Max glanced down at her small hands gripping the steering wheel. Her fingers were coated in dried blood from her ragged nails. She had picked up the habit of chewing on them about ten years back and had found no reason to stop. She raised one hand to her mouth and tugged at an ugly hangnail which had been plagueing her for days. It came loose, tearing half of her nail with it. Dark red blood oozed from the new wound and began to trickle down her arm in crimson stripes. She took some comfort in this. She was a living, breathing, bleeding, eating, yawning, sneezing person. Not a transgenic freak.
She let her mind drift back 180 years. Back to the last time she really felt anything. She had friends who loved her and a purpose for exsisting. That had been before she found out that she would have to leave them all behind. She wouldn't get any old but they would. And they did. Her loyal friends abandoned her. Logan had been murdered at age 36 and Sketchy had died of a drug overdose four years later. Normal was the victim of a hit and run months after Sketchy's death and Alec had disappeared the next year. Original Cidy had survived to age 80 before leaving her peacefully in her sleep and Joshua had been one of the first war casualties in 2150. Max felt as though all this reminicing should be making her cry but she couldn't. She had cried far too long for them and it didn't bring them back.
Max wished despretly that she could locate the Prowlers and that they would provide her with some sort of companionship. Anything to end this dead state on nonfeeling she lived in.
~~~
I know that seems like a totally akward place to end but I'm not really sure if I'm gonna continue this and I dun wanna get too involved. I've got another story "Burning Bridges" going right now that I wanna finish and I suck at multitasking. Lemme know which I should finsh first!
Luv ya~ Amy
~~~~