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Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

Warrior among the stars

0 · 137 views · located in The Altar Room

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by NotAFlyingToy

Description

wip

So begins...

Mike "Milk Man" Simmons's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose) Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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The stick jumped and quivered in his hands like a living being, both of his hands gripping it as he stomped on the pedals, trying to keep the bird afloat as Terra's gravity began to suck at his ship. The crippled Taiyou bomber spun out beside him as he grit his teeth against the strain, trying to level the bird out.

"Hierophant, Milk Man. I'm flying a fuckin' brick, here. I have no flight control. Repeat, no flight control. Hierophant, do you read? Anyone? Milk Man to any Aschen forces, do you copy? My radar's soup and I'm feeling a little hot in here!"

Nothing. Radio silence as the Viper spun tightly in an uncontrolled dive, heading straight for a city that was all but friendly.


The woman stumbling around the emptiness of their current surroundings had drawn him like a moth to flame; disruptor pistol low, feet silent as he moved towards the sound of scuffling feet. The ghostly quiet of the slums gave the downed pilot a clear sense of her direction; with nothing but the wind whistling through the windows, it was hard to get snuck up on. He watched her progress from between two planks of a lean-to, a few hundred yards up the road, his eyes squinting at the grey uniform she was wearing. Special Projects, he mouthed to himself. Here alone, she must've been someone important.

Smelling his ticket back to Langara, Michael Simmons slowly slid from his hiding position, a tattered balaclava covering his face, reddened skin around his grey eyes the only flesh visible on his body. Clad in his standard issue flyboy getup, he stood easily, keeping the gun pointed downwards.

"Please identify yourself," he hollered, voice hoarse and scratchy, carried by the nothing on the wind.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose) Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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Milk Man's fear clutched at him when he took two steps closer to her, the constant stress of the past long days wearing him, grinding him into a powdered keg. The way she mooved... she wasn't in good shape. Something had been done to her.

His immediate thought was Tayou. They were more than capable of torture, mental destruction, and any other kind of insidiousness if they had caught the slight woman unawares. As he approached steadily, his eyes widened even further, taking in the bandages wound around her head, covering her eyes.

They took her eyes, he thought to himself, lowering his weapon to his side and approaching her steadily. The pistol banged against his thigh as he moved, a frown coming over his face. They didn't look like bandages from a new wound; no blood, nothing.

Curiosity beat down the fear, swallowed up the quiet rage as he moved, his hands spreading to his sides. "My name is Michael Simmons, and I'm a Lieutenant, stationed aboard the Aschen ship Unyielding Hierophant. I'm not going to hurt you. Tell me your name."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose) Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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There was a long, heavy moment of silence.

Then, "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

Milk man approached her, the gun in one hand as his other reached to cup her chin, trying to get a look at the pallour of her skin. If this was some kind of Taiyou joke, he wasn't seeing the amusement. What on Langara was some Aschen Egghead Science project doing in the middle of an enemy hub, high as a jetliner, alone?

"What sort of music do you see, babe?" he murmured, reaching to try and check the pulse of her throat.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose) Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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Her hands on him made him flinch slightly; a sucking-in of breath through his teeth signalled that she hurt him. Not a fan of weakness, he spoke quickly, hiding the noise up.

"You got a violin handy or something, babe?" he asked, though he kept his hand on her throat, a frown on his face. He couldn't help but feel like the Taiyou wouldn't do anything that made a woman so... euphoric. The chances of her being a user increased, and he didn't like the odds.

Just what the fuck was she on?

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose) Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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He felt the heartbeat of a young soldier suddenly stop and snuff out, a wave of terror amongst his comrades as they fled the streets of Wing City, adrenaline, anger, hatred flowing through them as they tried to fend off death.

He heard the quiet cry of a baby in the night, anguish in a mother's face as she snuffed out the precious life to buy her more time from soldiers who sought her.

He could taste the anxiety and neediness of men and women, meeting as if it were their last night on earth. Most of all, he felt determination in place of strength, will in place of cunning, a hard drive to live - survive through the madness and hell and destruction of the past few days. He felt a pang of pity - for him? For her? - and a wash of sorrow.

"Yes," he breathed, entranced, his hand tightening slightly, wanting to pull away from her.

Desperately afraid to.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose) Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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Staggering backwards, Milk Man let out a ragged breath, hands reaching to run through his hair before remembering the thick black cloth. Gloved hands twitched once - violently - before falling back towards his sides. He settled for bending over his knees, huffing out short breaths, calming himself down.

When he was ready, he stepped towards her, crouching near her. "Hey, listen," he said, his voice unsteady, bouncing with the memory of what she'd shown him. How had she done that? Was that one of the egghead's tricks? Had she drugged him by skin contact?

"We need to get out of the open. Can you stand up for me?"

He brushed her arm with his hand, holding it palm-out, so she'd know where it was.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose) Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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Wrapping his arm around her, he allowed her to lean on him as they moved, his gun at his side, eyes wary and watchful. Their progress was as quick as he could make it, coming up on a lean-to that was propped against a crumbling building; a large slab of sheet metal slanted against a remnant of brick. Inside was the cleanest mattress he could find with a bedroll draped over it, a primitive oil lamp, a small wooden desk and a chair, papers filled with red circles and crude drawing draped over it. In the corner was a helmet - the words
Code: Select all
Lt. Michael "Milk Man" Simmons
stamped into the side. It was sitting on top of a survival pack and a shotgun.

"In here," he muttered, bending her so that she didn't cut her head on the sharp metal. He manouevered her so that she was beside the bed, the mattress against her shins, then headed to the writing desk, removing a pencil from a cup.

"What was our status on that name of yours, babe?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose) Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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Circling a position he had scouted, he nodded to himself, replacing the pencil before letting out a breath. He started turning, smiling slowly. "What's it going to b-"

Pausing, he glanced down at her, out of her mind on his makeshift bed. He allowed himself a shake, peeling off his balaclava with not a small amount of effort, some sucking in and out of breath. When the black cloth was free, he brought a jug of water off of the ground, pouring some into cupped hands and carefully washing his face and skull.

When complete, he put the jug back, stripped off the top half of his flight suit, and collapsed beside her from exhaustion. Despite the prone woman beside him, sleep wasn't a chore.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose) Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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"Back down from your trip to the moon, I see," came the voice from behind her. Simmons stretched out, his face a macabre criss-crossing of patchy, oozing burns and scars - everywhere but his eyes. He was wearing a muscle shirt - dirty, grimy with blood and sweat and clinging to his skin. His flightsuit pants still hugged his legs.

Swinging off the bed, he planted both feet on the ground, fishing for a bottle of pills in his pocket. He swallowed one quickly, observing her. "Never did get your name, sweetheart."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose) Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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"Nice to meet you, Ms. Rose," he said, standing from the makeshift bunk. He pulled on the flight jacket, shrugging into it easily as he kept his eyes on her. "I'm Michael Simmons. Callsign Milk Man. Got shot down over Terra..."

He furrowed his brow, then lifted a shoulder. "Some time ago."

He took his time, straightening the jacket, zipping it up carefully. Finally, he levelled his gaze upon her.

"So. Recreational drugs in the middle of a warzone. Pretty ballsy."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose) Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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The pilot raised what was left of his eyebrows, moving to grab his pack, helmet, and shotgun. "Hell of a mistake, babe," he muttered, checking the gun before fastening his helmet to his head. He moved towards his sidearm, strapping it to his side, levelling his gaze at her behind the blast shield.

"I'll let you lead on. I don't see any reason for the Admiral to know that you had a night to block it all out." He frowned behind the thick shield, testing the low light abilities of the visor with a deft flick of his wrist. "Lord knows we could all use one."

The setting changes from the-abandoned-slums to The Altar Room

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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For a time, nothing else joined the woman but the silence of the room, the occasional echoing of movement on stone; cloth, leather, skin rasping on the dust and grime of the stone floors. For a time, Whisper was alone with her thoughts and her needle, her guilt and her rage.

For far too little a time, she was left alone.

The soft sound of breathing through a filter joined the subtle echos of the room, a flashlight beam cutting through the dim lighting. Both were seen and heard before the man himself; dressed in a clean tan muscle shirt that showed off ropy sinew and a lean build, pants that were camouflaged to the night. He moved as if on a prowl, the light shining directly on Whisper, a frown etched into his face.

"I take it with all the skulking," he said, his voice tinny and pitched through the filters of a gasmask that was strapped to his face, covering his eyes and mouth, "that that isn't your daily dose of adrenaline inhibitors or a stimulant."

Even though the woman was blind, he gestured towards the vial with a single gloved hand.

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Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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He sighed - a staccato sound that echoed throughout the room, sounding high and whiny. He moved past her, leaning against the wall near her as he watched the syringe in her hand with thoughtful eyes. His muscles underneath the mask jumped slightly; causing a twinge of pain.

"I wanted to thank you," he murmured. "You got me here alive, and, as I've just recently discovered, probably saved my life. I was hoping that I could get you to take a favour off of me."

Behind the mask, he frowned at the syringe. Gentling his voice, he crouched slightly, the shirt rasping against the wall as he slid down it.

"Are you okay, Jacquelyn?"

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Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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A smile behind the mask was all that answered her. "When is for someone that pries into your business?"

His gaze trailed the raised infectious boils, marring her pale skin. He winced slightly, holding his comment as he reached into his belt, sliding thumbs into his utility pouches, searching for something.

"I'll get out of your hair in a minute. I just saw you coming down here, and judging on how I found you wandering the city, I figured I knew what was going on, here."

His gloved thumb touched paydirt, and a bag rattled as he lifted it from his pouch. "I'm going to start by saying that I think you should get clean. Of... whatever you're using," at this, his eyes strayed back to her arm, "whether it's smokes, pills, what. But since I know that's not always the most viable option..."

With that, he tossed a small bag of syringes and pill bottles onto her lap.

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Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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"Infection is death, death is bad," he immediately fired back. "I won't tell if you won't."

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Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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A violent shrug and an offhand "Eh" was all the response she got to her quiet thanking. "There are alcohol swabs in the bag if you want to further sterlize. Oh, and don't go waving it around to any of the medical staff. I kinda sorta maybe borrowed it without asking."

He gave her a cheery salute, slipped back around her, and started walking. Stopping, suddenly, he turned back to her.

"I meant what I said though, Jacquelyn. I'd like to see you get better. Look me up sometime; I can help you."

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Character Portrait: Mike "Milk Man" Simmons

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With that, he walked away, his footsteps and breathing retreating into a memory, leaving the woman to her needles, guilt, and rage.