C'est l'heure?
Dans son état chimiquement modifié, Sasha n'était pas en mesure d'éviter la collision et la chute éventuelle; s'il n'avait pas été pour le bruit et la douleur aiguë qu'il aurait à peine enregistré le dos de sa tête claquer sur le sol. Ce n'était en aucun cas une chute gracieuse. Sa vision est devenue floue et le petit homme s'est évanoui pendant quelques secondes.
Quand il est venu à lui, il s'est demandé comment il a réussi à se retrouver sur le sol et pourquoi son pied lui faisait mal; il se sentait aussi stupide, mais ce sentiment découle davantage du fait qu'il était profondément ignorant de son environnement que d'entrer en collision avec quelqu'un. Quelques questions ont poussé à l'avant-garde de son esprit. Pourquoi était-il à un point de vue qui semblait être un bar? Il a bu? Il est soûl? C'est pour ça que tout a duré? Non, il était mourant... il a été tué dans un bar? Pourquoi a-t-il été tué? Malgré la paranoïa alimentée par la cocaïne, Sahsa a réussi à se calmer en se concentrant sur les connus. Il n'était pas mort ou mourant, il semblait juste qu'il rencontrait littéralement quelqu'un; peut-être était-il très sujet aux accidents. Son nom était Sas... Non, c'était Jocelyn... c'était totalement Jocelyn, car ce nom lui avait une signification intrinsèque. L'embrayage cher a suggéré à Jocelyn qu'il doit être joli mode avant de se promener avec un sac à main femme. Cependant, cela, associé au fait qu'il se sentait étrangement excité par le beau étranger qui s'est heurté avec lui a parlé de volumes de sa sexualité; cela a été soutenu par un souvenir brumeux d'un chauffeur d'Uber poli lui parlant des divers établissements homosexuels dans la ville plus tôt dans la journée. Quelle personne utile orientée vers le service que le conducteur était, Jocelyn s'est rappelé de laisser un examen positif quand il a obtenu la chance.
 J'ai entendu parler de tomber pour un homme, mais c'est ridicule chéri. J'imagine que la plupart ont tendance à m'acheter un verre d'abord. », a dit Jocelyn poussant les cheveux bruns errants de son visage alors qu'il s'élevait chakily à ses pieds; son accent russe plus prononcé que normal comme ses inhibitions étaient assez faibles en ce moment. Quelque chose se sentait comme s'il devait humilier cet homme pour son incompétence et exiger des excuses, mais Jocelyn l'a rejeté car il n'avait pas l'impression qu'il était aussi terrible d'une personne.
 Pardonne-moi ma maladresse... Je suppose que je peux être un sacré ditz quand je bois. Je suis vraiment désolé. » Après avoir désinfecté ses mains avec une lotion trouvée dans son embrayage, il a étendu une main maintenant propre pour essayer d'aider le beau étranger vers le haut avant de rougir.  J'espère que vous n'étiez pas un rendez-vous en ligne. Ce serait vraiment embarrassant. Je me sentirais encore plus terrible alors je le fais déjà. J'espère ne pas être toujours aussi terrible aux premières impressions. Je déteste sonner en avant, mais avant que je fasse un plus grand imbécile de moi-même pourriez-vous s'il vous plaît me dire si je devrais vous connaître ou pas. Il semble que j'ai pris toute la bosse à l'arrière de la tête et les choses sont encore assez floues. » 
Quelque chose se sentait encore mal, comme s'il devait être beaucoup plus impitoyable et vil alors qu'il agissait. Son subconscient lui criait d'éternuer, mais Jocelyn lâcha un léger sourire à la place.
Max Sylvester Summerson
Age: 28, just.
Apparel:
Height: 5'11
Weight: 145 Ibs
Likes: Cigarettes, Cigars and Malt Whiskey; Fast Cars and Slow women; Coffee and Morning Mist; Working under the wing on a sunny day; Flying the plane in stormy weather; Lobster Thermidor and Pot Noodles; Letting off steam and Buckshot; Keats, Burns and Chaucer; Risk, Monopoly and DnD; Batting off of the wing of his plane; Big Dogs and sweeping up the runway; playing music loudly in a traffic jam.
Dislikes: Paying Taxes and Government Plane Inspectors; Large Airlines and Traffic Control; Electric Cars and Counting Pennies; Other Pilots and Other Mechanics; Daedalus and PanAm.
Zodiac Sign: Libra
Special Talent: Mental Arithmetic
Profession: Commercial Passenger/Cargo Pilot
Personality: A bit on the quiet side, when Max says something his voice demands attention, that said he's not an attention seeker by any stretch of the word. Despite that he is a fun loving, and creative individual when you've been around him enough, with a very genuine sense of life and openness. As of recently however he has become more irritable and moody, with the decline of his company and the loss of his one other employee. He lives his life in a state of barely satiated boredom, having relied on his own entertainment as his circle of friends is fairly scant. But when he is with people, people he likes, he likes to take part in good hearted mayhem. Max doesn't feel like he is above anyone, and that comes off in the way he speaks to people, this doesn't mean he won't speak up if he knows he's right.
Bio: To understand Max, one must take a trip back in time, to a time before he was born. Max's grandfather had emigrated from Germany to the United States in the Mid-30s, under his new, anglicized name Simon Summerson (previously Simone Zimmersonne). He had worked for Dornier as a technician at one of their engine works, and so had experience with motors and planes, as his engines went into Dornier's planes; the rise of the Nazi Party, however, convinced him to leave Germany. Quickly Simon found that his German Marks were worthless, and stuck in Britain as a young man with no credible references, he had to do petty work for petty cash. Once the war started however, he was drafted into the Airforce as a mechanic, and during desperate times he himself was forced to pilot fighters.
After the war, decorated and an ace, Simon made the final leg of his journey to America. There, on the cramped boat, he made the acquaintance of one Axel Suhlhoff (Anglicized to Axel Suhl), a German Catholic who managed to escape in the final months of the war to Spain. Both being native to south Germany, they stuck together; Axel had not come alone however, he traveled with his wife and children. And his sister, Mira (whom Simon later married). Upon arriving the group continued to travel together, and found a place to settle in Solaris County. There, with what funds they had left, opened a machine shop and worked on tractors and crop dusters. It was in the summer of 51, when the government was surplusing DC-3s, that year Summerson and Suhl entered the business of actual flying.
By the end of the 50s Suhl had passed away, but the company was in strong financial shape, the fleet had tripled to 9 planes by that time; making numerous flights every month under contract with state government. Summerson and Suhl continued to preform strongly for decades, hauling goods, mail and passengers and into and out of state. Plans for an air traffic control were drafted up and Martin, Simon's son, was acquiring finances when news arrived that Pan-America was opening a division on the west coast. Daedalus. Those plans of opening a terminal and getting the contract to traffic surrounding airspace were quickly put aside as an up hill battle ensured. Backed by the wealth of its mother company, Daedalus had established a large regional airport that quickly became international, state shifted its contracts with the newer airline and business began to dry up as a result of uncompetitive pricing of Daedalus deals.
During this time Max was being raised, his father had insisted Max and all his children go to public school, despite his considerable wealth. Max didn't do particularly well, nor did he do particularly poorly, he was an average student by all accounts, only really excelling in maths but not algebra. Max was considered one of the cool kids, but his choice of company never really expressed it. He tended towards hanging out with the "nerds", going so far that people called him King of the nerds, a title he begrudgingly accepted. In this time he got into bored games and maths championships, skipping out on parties and dating for a night of DnD or CoC. Not to say he's never had experience with with the other gender, but his experience is lacking. Upon graduation his father's connections easily found him a place in the state university, where mostly he kept his head down and did his work, all the while training to be a pilot. It had seemed as though he was the only one of his father's children who had any intention on joining the family business.
S&S slowly began to decline, and as did Martin's health, the once large fleet had to be sold off to cover medical expenses, and Daedalus tried numerous times to buy out the company to no avail.
Max assumed control of the company a week after his father's passing, by that point it was him, and one other pilot. And 9 silent DC-3s, the planes that his father had instructed him not to sell no matter what. Loyal customers continued to be loyal, keeping the company barely afloat, but the company never really operated at full capacity. Recently the other pilot left for a more lucrative contract at Daedalus, and Max carries out contracts very rarely, coasting on the money he was left by his father and his degree in Civil Engineering. Max resides in the large house that was once his family home, his siblings had all grown up and left, and the house was empty but for a few rooms. His mother continues to live with him, quietly assuming her duties as head of the house.
Your character's favorite song: