Maxwell Carter aka Maxy
Maxy didn’t remember how he’d gotten involved in drug running. It just sort of happened. Mom never made much money. They never had enough for what they needed let alone the things he wanted so when he was offered a “job” delivering a package from one dude to another he took it. Now he had cops chasing after him, threatening to shoot him if he didn’t stop, but there was no way in hell he was going to do that. He cut across a parking lot, heading toward the freeway when something punched him in the back. It punched hard, and hurt like hell, and Maxy went tumbling down the embankment, all coherent thought lost in a wave of terror.
Then there was nothing.
There was a brown face with a halo of black hair framed by a brilliant blue sky. Then there was pain. So much pain. He screamed. The world faded back to nothing.
There was a soft light, and the brown face again, and words he didn’t understand spoken with an accent he’d never heard before. There was pain, but it was just a throbbing heat in his back now, rather than the sharp agony it had been. Gentle hands held his head up and put a bowl to his lips. He drank. It was warm and salty. Soup. The hands laid him back down, wiped his face with a damp cloth. He drifted back into the nothing.
Maxy woke alone. He could see, in the flickering orange light, that he was in some kind of tent. He could smell wood smoke, and some kind of roasting meat. His stomach rumbled and his mouth watered. With a groan he rolled into a sitting position. His back still hurt like a son of a bitch, but this he could handle. He pushed the blanket off his legs and struggled to his feet. Weaving and wobbling like a drunk, he made his way out of the tent…
… and into the darkest night he had ever seen. There were no street lights. No car lights. No lights in windows. No skyline. Just a big bright moon overhead and a wash of glittering stars. He had never imagined there were so many stars.
Maxy is 5’9″, with wavy dark hair, brown eyes, a lithe body, and a tanned complexion. He has an eagle tattoo on his right bicep. He wears denims, collarless shirts (t-shirts), and moccasins. He has a quick smile and a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
Maxy was born Maxwell Carter in 1975 AD, in Los Angeles California. He had a working mother, no father, and no guidance. Living in a poor neighborhood he quickly fell in with the wrong crowd and began dealing drugs. He was caught in a police raid and ran. One of the officers shot him; he stumbled and fell down an embankment, and woke in Sonora. It didn’t take him long to realize he wasn’t in the same when or where, though he questioned his sanity for a long time. He would have died from exposure, or starvation, or wild animals, had a village warrior not found him and taken him in. He spent five years with the village, adopted into the warrior’s family, until they declared him an adult and sent him out on his own, equipped to survive the new world he was in. He wandered south, eventually stumbling on the town of Ellay, and decided to settle down there.
He now works for Deacon Yumi at the Drunken Dagger tending bar… and occasionally helping smuggle goods into the city.
Maxy is an example of an out-lander character. He comes from an alternate reality and arrived in Sonora by way of a random inter-dimensional gate. He may have psychic or magical abilities, either of which could unlock and manifest now that he’s in Sonora.
This work by Jean Headley is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.