Furiosa is actually a master of the poker face. She's had to be, to hide her rage, to prove her strength, to maintain her position. Her eyebrow barely quirks as she meets the pup's gaze. She'd be lying if she claimed she doesn't enjoy the power she wields. The mystique of the Imperator grease is useful in so many ways, not the least of which is her own protection. Maybe she hates herself a bit more each day for using and enjoying it, but here she is anyway, towering over a half-grown blackthumb pup and amused by the alarm of his peers.
She's not completely ruined, though. There's a little soft place between the calcified ridges around her heart, and children sometimes manage to reach it. She gives a little sigh as some of the pups cringe or slink a safe distance away, and sinks into a crouch, placing her right palm on the pup's bared neck.
"Easy," she says. "I'm not going to shred you for a little thing like that."
She lets the touch trail to his shoulder, gives him a light thump on the back, and then rests her elbows on her knees. "Spanner's a little to the left. Go on with what you were doing."
Hopefully Freki doesn't suffer too much from performance anxiety. She's not going anywhere.
Of course he doesn't resist the hand coming down to his neck. Of course he doesn't flinch or try to shift away. No one had ever been rewarded for being nervous or cowardly.
Motion only returns at the comparatively gentle words. It's impossible not to blink, even for a moment after the encouragement of the thump on the back. It's also impossible not to respond to directions. His fingers are scrambling left for the spanner before he even entirely realizes what he's doing.
Thankfully, the familiarity of metal in hand was a wonderful adrenaline boost back toward normalcy. The other pups don't immediately fall back into place--the real smoothness of the human machine remains interrupted--but Freki at least is clearly happy enough to fall back into what he'd been doing.
Letting his hands fall into work at the cam chain is one thing, of course. It's driven by instinct, after all, somewhere below where nerves came into play. The weight of eyes on him couldn't dislodge that. It could, however, dislodge his tongue.
"--jumping." Not that she had asked. Not that she needed to be told. "Maybe-- broken teeth. Better soon."
Nervous chatter isn't uncommon when an Imperator wanders into a knot of pups. Some of the ones that know Furiosa a little better--better enough not to be terrified she'll shred them on a whim--will sidle in quietly to try and touch her metal arm for luck, when she stands or rests near where they're working. She pretends not to notice, with mixed feelings on the matter. The part of her that's still just a bit Vuvalini feels that the regard of a child is never to be carelessly discarded. She certainly doesn't deserve it, and hesitates to encourage it, but she rarely spurns it, either.
That, and war boy culture itself holds a healthy pup to be of reasonable value. Maybe not quite worth their weight in guzzoline, but with hands to work and a back to carry goods; children can't be coddled but they can be trained up for better things later on. Watching this pup's hands flutter around to grab the spanner and back to get to work, Furiosa thinks he's got a head start at being useful. Truly seems to have an idea what he's doing; maybe he'll be a master blackthumb some day.
She makes a soft hum of acknowledgment at his diagnosis. Seems accurate as far as she can tell. "It's a shine little machine, isn't it? Seen better, but not many."
She moves just enough to give him space for his elbows and rolls to sit with her legs folded under her, then glances at the other nervous pups. "Well? Don't leave this one to work alone." It's gentle, for a scolding; she didn't intend to make them scatter. "You'll all need to figure out how to work under pressure. Better get a start."
And useful is the sensation as the Imperator crouching close gives a quiet hum. Useful gets something like a smile, brief and frantic in its own way but real even here among the shadows and slick, all flashing teeth and bubbling of delicate energy. It's good to be useful. It's everything to be useful.
It's better still to be useful among many. One of Freki's hands extends without thought as the others are chided, and there's barely a heartbeat before a scrap of cloth is pressed into his palm. The automatic nature has his teeth snapping happily again as he reaches in to wipe at a bit of a crusted leak.
Getting back into the swing will take a moment. The flow of work always takes a moment to find after ripples like this. And maybe, just maybe, that means little bit of other things can settle into a new, disrupted pattern.
There's hesitation in the way he glances back again, hands moving along in familiar patterns to begin taking off the chain. "--okay?"
She knows more. She's seen more. She could make all of them more Useful.
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sarken
(no subject)
Date: 2016-07-26 02:54 am (UTC)She's not completely ruined, though. There's a little soft place between the calcified ridges around her heart, and children sometimes manage to reach it. She gives a little sigh as some of the pups cringe or slink a safe distance away, and sinks into a crouch, placing her right palm on the pup's bared neck.
"Easy," she says. "I'm not going to shred you for a little thing like that."
She lets the touch trail to his shoulder, gives him a light thump on the back, and then rests her elbows on her knees. "Spanner's a little to the left. Go on with what you were doing."
Hopefully Freki doesn't suffer too much from performance anxiety. She's not going anywhere.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-01 07:40 pm (UTC)Motion only returns at the comparatively gentle words. It's impossible not to blink, even for a moment after the encouragement of the thump on the back. It's also impossible not to respond to directions. His fingers are scrambling left for the spanner before he even entirely realizes what he's doing.
Thankfully, the familiarity of metal in hand was a wonderful adrenaline boost back toward normalcy. The other pups don't immediately fall back into place--the real smoothness of the human machine remains interrupted--but Freki at least is clearly happy enough to fall back into what he'd been doing.
Letting his hands fall into work at the cam chain is one thing, of course. It's driven by instinct, after all, somewhere below where nerves came into play. The weight of eyes on him couldn't dislodge that. It could, however, dislodge his tongue.
"--jumping." Not that she had asked. Not that she needed to be told. "Maybe-- broken teeth. Better soon."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-03 01:37 pm (UTC)That, and war boy culture itself holds a healthy pup to be of reasonable value. Maybe not quite worth their weight in guzzoline, but with hands to work and a back to carry goods; children can't be coddled but they can be trained up for better things later on. Watching this pup's hands flutter around to grab the spanner and back to get to work, Furiosa thinks he's got a head start at being useful. Truly seems to have an idea what he's doing; maybe he'll be a master blackthumb some day.
She makes a soft hum of acknowledgment at his diagnosis. Seems accurate as far as she can tell. "It's a shine little machine, isn't it? Seen better, but not many."
She moves just enough to give him space for his elbows and rolls to sit with her legs folded under her, then glances at the other nervous pups. "Well? Don't leave this one to work alone." It's gentle, for a scolding; she didn't intend to make them scatter. "You'll all need to figure out how to work under pressure. Better get a start."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-23 02:07 pm (UTC)And useful is the sensation as the Imperator crouching close gives a quiet hum. Useful gets something like a smile, brief and frantic in its own way but real even here among the shadows and slick, all flashing teeth and bubbling of delicate energy. It's good to be useful. It's everything to be useful.
It's better still to be useful among many. One of Freki's hands extends without thought as the others are chided, and there's barely a heartbeat before a scrap of cloth is pressed into his palm. The automatic nature has his teeth snapping happily again as he reaches in to wipe at a bit of a crusted leak.
Getting back into the swing will take a moment. The flow of work always takes a moment to find after ripples like this. And maybe, just maybe, that means little bit of other things can settle into a new, disrupted pattern.
There's hesitation in the way he glances back again, hands moving along in familiar patterns to begin taking off the chain. "--okay?"
She knows more. She's seen more. She could make all of them more Useful.