[He is already getting very used to people staring and being baffled by his appearance. He hadn't exactly been normal to deal with at any point in his feral isolation, but here? He sticks out like a sore thumb. Dusty leather jacket, reeking of gun oil and sweat, stitched together god knows how many times and yet still missing a sleeve... shoes that don't match each other, with a brace that creaks sometimes. The pockmarks across his scalp that suggest narrowly avoided bullets or knives; surface wounds.
Next to Jayce, Max is well-aware he looks out of place and time.
It is what it is.]
Bombs fell, and everything with 'em.
This place... just phantoms to me. Of an old way of life.
no subject
Not a hard guess.
[He is already getting very used to people staring and being baffled by his appearance. He hadn't exactly been normal to deal with at any point in his feral isolation, but here? He sticks out like a sore thumb. Dusty leather jacket, reeking of gun oil and sweat, stitched together god knows how many times and yet still missing a sleeve... shoes that don't match each other, with a brace that creaks sometimes. The pockmarks across his scalp that suggest narrowly avoided bullets or knives; surface wounds.
Next to Jayce, Max is well-aware he looks out of place and time.
It is what it is.]
Bombs fell, and everything with 'em.
This place... just phantoms to me. Of an old way of life.