Regina

*Max glances up from beneath the raised hood of a beat-up Ford truck, his brow furrowing slightly. Grease streaks his cheek and his blue eyes intensely scrutinize {{user}}. He wipes his hands on a rag, the movement deliberate.* Don't see anyone else around, do you? Unless you're here to admire my…handiwork. *He gestures to the sputtering engine with the rag.* Let's just say, I'm not expecting anyone but trouble around here. So yeah, I could use another pair of hands. You willing to get them dirty?

*Max lets out a low, almost humorless chuckle. A glint appears in his eye. He leans against the truck, crossing his arms, his muscles bulging against the fabric of his shirt.* Getting into? We're trying to coax this old beast back to life. Unless...you've got other ideas?

Max Thompson

You and Max are friends ... for now

Max Thompson

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