Le pot à café
Ayant assez de temps dans le café mulling sur un expresso étonnamment décent Sasha succomba à l'ennui et s'abaissa sur sa chaise; inconsciemment, il espérait que quelqu'un l'aurait déjà forcé à révéler son vrai personnage, afin qu'il puisse alors montrer sa supériorité sur les paysans assemblés. Hélas, il semblait que ces ternes étaient dupés par son astuce, peut-être qu'il jouait un peu trop bien à Jocelyn. Avec un peu plus de charisme Sas... errez Jocelyn aurait ces idiots embrasser le sol ses pieds parfaitement pédigués marchaient sur. Il n'était pas irrité par le manque d'attention, pas de monsieur, pas d'un seul morceau.
Sa main droite traçait le luxueux cuir Epi de son embrayage Neo Belaia, tandis que le magnifique sac Louis Vuitton rappelait son statut, c'était aussi son sac de triche. Un sourire enroulé son visage, ces sycophants de retour au penthouse n'auraient pas dû prendre sa parole qu'il jouerait honnêtement. Au début, il n'a pas envisagé de faire entrer en contrebande des provisions avec lui, mais alors Dieu a de nouveau fait la tentation si séduisante. Sa nouvelle stratégie était de rester à l'écart (comme il doutait que ses toadies allaient vérifier sur lui dans une mesure notable) et il gagnerait ce défi idiot; la tricherie serait techniquement aller à l'encontre de l'esprit de tout le Shebang, mais s'il n'était pas pris était-il tricher?
Son téléphone a averti que son chauffeur UberLUX l'attendait à l'extérieur. Il a mis des billets froissés sur la table et a fait son chemin à l'extérieur. Un vent froid souffla alors qu'il entrait dans la berline de luxe haut de gamme. La marche a été surévaluée.
 L'ancien tribord 
Sasha roula les yeux tandis que le conducteur harcelait sans cesse sur sa couvée d'enfants. L'état de l'industrie des services dans cette ville était une blague et tout comme le fait que ce morse moustachu a procréé. Pire encore c'est que l'imbécile drone sur la scène gay locale quand Sasha s'est renseigné sur les bars. Pourquoi l'homme pensait que Sasha voudrait savoir que l'information était au-delà de lui. Il s'est tordu les cheveux dans les doigts. Stupide vieux fou, qu'est-ce qu'il savait. Rien de tout ça. Le simpleton ne s'est pas rendu compte que Sasha était l'un des célibataires les plus admissibles de la ville et non un homosexuel... il a juste dévié du chemin proverbial de temps en temps qui est une chose hétérosexuelle tout à fait normale à faire. Pervert devait le frapper ou quelque chose comme ça. Eck... gros. Il a supprimé un bâillon pendant que la voiture s'arrêtait sur The Old Starboard. Malgré son dégoût avec le peon, il a fait marcher la borgne autour de la voiture et lui a ouvert la porte. Sasha s'est moqué du conducteur car l'imp avait l'audace de lui dire d'avoir une bonne journée et de rester en sécurité. Comme c'est présomptueux.
Alors que Sasha se dirigeait vers le bar, il tenta de canaliser le personnage de Jocelyn, mais fut vaincu par une envie de participer à un vice particulièrement coquin. Après avoir commandé un scotch...J&B sur les rochers (un favori personnel) il a fait son chemin vers la salle de bains. Sur son chemin, il se plisa le nez dans le dégoût, alors que cet établissement sentait le manque d'ambition ainsi que la classe, la culture, le goût et l'intelligence. Il pensait qu'il reconnaissait aussi l'un des roubles de la cafétéria, ce qui serait trop approprié s'il était vrai. Une fois à l'intérieur de la salle de bain, il s'est assuré qu'il était vraiment seul avant d'atteindre l'intérieur de son embrayage pour un petit miroir, un billet de cent dollars, une lame de rasoir, et un sac clair contenant un gramme de cocaïne. Après avoir ronflé quelques lignes, il ferme les yeux et se sent réconforté par son cœur coureur; les larmes coulent sur son visage. Pendant un moment, il se sent bien en accord avec l'univers avant de retomber sur terre. Brillant la lame de rasoir et le sac vide, il replace les autres objets dans son embrayage. Sasha sèche ses larmes et essuie le léger résidu de cocaïne de ses lèvres avec un mouchoir. S'assurer que ses narines ne saignent pas, il lie son chemin à la barre un pep supplémentaire dans son pas à dire.
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: