Furiosa certainly didn't expect him to grow her arm back for her. If he could and had offered, she likely would refuse. The abbreviation of flesh and bone is a part of her now, as much a part as the limb itself once was. But it's nice to have the ache subdued, and the swelling a bit reduced.
"Not a war boy," she shakes her head, moving between rows of plants and pausing to watch a bee work with visible pleasure. "No, he was a feral. They'd been using him as a bloodbag, and he got dragged into the field on the front of a war vehicle. It's amazing how cruel we can be without even trying."
'We' meaning ostensibly the Citadel, or maybe war boy culture. It might be applicable to humanity as a whole, though. "But he got loose in the storm, joined us, fought with us. And he gave me his blood when I was dying."
She won't forget that. It's a monumental thing, to have someone give you freely what they've had taken from them once by force. "But I think he's wedded to the road. I'll miss him, but he's gone now. Maybe he'll come back some day."
Quite the human to be used and then give back to those who used him. Then again Todd was in a similar position, although with the difference that Todd preferred to take his chances here rather than out in the wastes.
The smell of herbs greeted him as they continued along the path. Rosemary, basil, parsley, all growing full and well in the sun and damp earth.
As they made their way along the rows and came to the end where an open area had been freshly tilled, a woman with long platinum blonde hair was kneeling in the dirt and almost tenderly burying seed after seed in the dark soil.
Todd looked to Furiosa. "One of the Sisters?" he guessed
She realizes just that, after she's spoken: that Todd has had his ability used by force, and yet just gave the benefit of it to her freely, only an hour or so after being released. She never asked it of him, and never would have, and now she wonders what it is she does that makes people decide she merits these kinds of things. Maybe it's an even more extravagant gift from a Wraith; he's not even the same species.
She's giving him a thoughtful, almost soft look as they turn the corner toward the garden, and touches his arm lightly without speaking, a second, subtler thanks.
She's quick to brighten at seeing the Dag working, though. She wastes no time. "That's the Dag. She has the seed hoard from the Vuvalini."
Furiosa whistles to catch the other woman's attention and wanders over when she looks up. "Working alone?"
"Cheedo went to fetch extra water," she answers, tones clipped but not hostile. Her gaze strays to Todd quickly, sharp and thoughtful.
Despite all he'd been through, both here at the Citadel and before the death of the world, compassion was still very very, very new to Todd. Wraith considered it weakness. It was really in his benefit, or so he'd say, to keep her alive and well.
But also, though he'd never admit it out loud, he longed for that companionship again like that he'd shared with the man who's named him. Perhaps also why he'd healed her, hoping to regain that familiarity.
Todd glanced to her touching his arm but said nothing of it.
Ah, so this was the gardener he'd heard about.
He looked around the cleared area and what the woman-and her vacant companion-had accomplished so far. Needless to say they didn't waste time around here. Two days ago they were dealing with Joe after all.
He turned back to her when she spoke and he politely inclined his head. "My name is Todd." he introduced. If she cared to know about anything more of him, then she need only ask, if not, he need not bother elaborating.
Furiosa isn't the type to push affection or even friendship on someone, and she's inclined to give him space, knowing his ordeal has been even longer than her own. Still, even after all these years here she feels like an outsider, trying to stand in three worlds--the Green Place, the Citadel, and the Fury Road--with only two legs. Maybe the presence of another outsider is reassuring.
"Todd," the Dag repeats, a little distantly. "So you're the monster old Joe kept under the bed, eh? Not so scary. What's this about, then?" She gestures to indicate the markings around his one eye.
Furiosa's expression is a blend of amusement and mild apology. The Dag has no tact whatsoever, but she's very bright and very observant.
Todd chuckled at the other's bluntness. He preferred it over feigned politeness.
When she gestured to his tattoos he answered, "A symbol of a great victory my kin had. A very, very long time ago. My kin do not mark themselves like humans do. We do it only when we achieve or accomplish something great."
Also because of their healing ability the process to get a tattoo was far more of a pain than it was for humans so tats merely for decoration were very few and far between. Usually only Queens got them.
Not everyone feels that way about the Dag, but she's grown on Furiosa, at least.
"War boys cut the shapes of engine parts into their flesh," Furiosa says. "As totems. Engines can be fixed. Human bodies are harder to deal with. Mysterious. They hope if they carve spanners or engines onto themselves, they'll be a little more fixable. Last a little longer."
She puts her hand up to touch the brand on the back of her neck. "Thinking some of us will want ink to cover up these, though, before long." She hates that brand, that symbol. She's not sure if it's better or worse that so many others share it.
"Oh, definitely," the Dag says, and displays her tattooed knuckles. "Let me know when you want yours done, Fury. Miss Giddy taught me."
Todd thought about the strange scars he'd seen on the war boys, past and present. Ah, that was what that was. An odd ritual as machines, unless organic, eventually broke down. Then again a lot of what was done around here would be considered "odd". They had to adapt in a way humanity likely had not had to do since the last ice age.
It took a great deal to leave a Wraith with a scar. Even old ones, with enough feeding, healed up. He'd only met a handful of fellow wraith who'd had been injured beyond healing.
He glanced to the brand on the back of Furiosa's neck. Joe had tried to brand him too, on his shoulder, to mark him as his, but thanks to his healing, it was gone within the first feeding. Still, no less painful.
As the two women spoke to one another, his eyes landed on a large bag near the Dag. Mindful of the rows, he stepped over to it and peered inside. Seeds. Dozens of types, hundreds of each. Where had they gathered so many in such variety?
War boys break down, too, and often in less time than it takes a well-maintained machine to do so. Many of the tumors they sport are benign, but not all. Furiosa has seen some go in very painful ways. At least three begged her to 'take them to Valhalla' rather than let them die slow and soft. She's not sure what to do with those memories; they're both touching and horrible.
Were she aware he'd been branded but healed, she'd be both sympathetic and envious. She'd do a lot to get Joe's mark off of her skin, but even getting it surgically removed from her would leave a scar where it had been. That doesn't strike her as productive. Better to cover it with something better, than to allow the dead Immortan to take one more ounce of flesh and blood from her.
The Dag notes what he's doing before Furiosa does, and reacts much as if he were coming over to peer at a vulnerable infant in her care. She doesn't snatch the bag or push him away, but she does put both hands on it, an unmistakeably possessive gesture. "They're heirlooms," she tells him. "Precious."
Ow nope, not a good idea to be cutting skin off, especially near the neck. Tattoos are a far better alternative.
He doesn't touch it nor get any closer to her. Like a mother guarding her young. But he simply nods. "Indeed they are. How'd you come by so many, might I ask?"
If they'd been Joe's, he suspected they wouldn't be carried around like luggage. Had they come across a bunker like his during their flight? Or perhaps the road man Furiosa spoke of had them?
Wise of him not to push his luck with the Dag. She's not especially violent by nature, but she might react exactly like a mother protecting her young, and she does have steel toes in those boots. His answer mollifies her, at least. "They were a gift," she says cryptically.
"When we left the Citadel to escape, we made it all the way out to where my clan, my people, used to live." Furiosa explains for her. "One of our elders had been keeping them for years. Judith, our Seed-Mother. She died in the battle, but...these live on."
She does a subtle grasping gesture in the air and pulls her hand to her sternum. A memorial for the dead, perhaps. The Dag does the same thing, a little warily.
Todd wondered a moment if the Dag was being smart with him or perhaps hiding something, but he turned to Furiosa when she answered him properly.
The gesture was curious, much like the salutes human soldiers gave one another, though he assumed it didn't mean the same thing. He doesn't ask about it though.
He looked over the field planted thus far. It was strange to think that one day this area would help sustain not only everyone here but also himself. No more feeding on humans. Unless they deserved it of course.
Inclining his head at the Dag, he and Furiosa continued on their tour. The sun was starting its dip below the horizon, and though he'd not admit it, he was feeling the day's stress. Still, the prospect seeing the stars again, especially this high up, kept him going.
Furiosa is quiet for a while, walking contentedly beside him. She's tired, too. Her lungs feel back to normal--better than normal, maybe--thanks to his healing efforts, but she's still expending energy. The past few days have been stressful. At length they come to a large greywater cistern set in the ground near the edge of the cliff, and she takes the opportunity to sit gratefully, stretching her spine and toeing off her boots slowly to bury her feet in cooling sand. Nodding at him, she gestures as if to invite him to sit, too.
"When do you want the expedition to find your cache?" she asks. "You want to settle in first, for a few days?"
He took a seat beside her as she invited, watching her bury her feet in the sand a moment before she spoke.
"I would like to as soon as possible." he answered with a nod. After all, who knew when or if the other towns attacked and it might be better to have some incentives to work together. Knowledge was always worth pausing a moment for.
"However, such a trek as I mentioned is several days back and forth so it would be wise for me to regain my strength for another couple days before setting out. Also time will be needed to prepare provisions for the journey as well as decide on which rig to bring and how many need to actually go."
The fewer the better to avoid the need to bring a lot of food and water, as well as keep a low profile. He could technically go alone, but not only would it take longer without at least a second person to take over driving to rest in shifts, but also he doubted they trusted him to just wander off with a rig.
"If everything in the bunker is intact and still there, there's about two-shacks worth of things within it." he said to give her an idea of how much room on a rig they'd need.
"That's a lot of salvage," she comments, eyebrows going up. His plan seems sound to her, but she hasn't gone into details with him about how many vehicles they've likely lost. If he's got that much to bring back, she may have to have some quick modifications made to some of the cars left behind. Or tow a trailer behind the Gigahorse, but that would make for slower proceedings, and they might need a couple armed outriders for safety.
...no. It would better to use a lower-profile car and make the trip with just him and her, maybe Hela or Maat. "I'm going to have to check the garages and see what we have to work with. Ah, fukushima, that reminds me, I need to go through the armory with Toast, too."
She rubs her face. This has been a nice interlude, walking with him, and she'd forgotten how much work she has to do.
"I believe the bunker was created to house a large family." he said. "There are some items we can skip if we lack the room to carry them like the bedframes, though the mattresses would be useful for the hospital." he pointed out. He was sure she could figure it out, and in the end they could pass over the mattresses if it meant taking more of something else along.
"Still have things to do? Very well, let's go, you can give me that knife you promised while we're there."
And he could meet more of whom he could only assume were more of the Sisters. Unless they talked to bread here.
She likes that he's using the word 'hospital'. War boys always called the place 'Organic's ledges' or 'the Blood Shed', a wry joke. She's going to be more than happy to let Todd take it over. "Mattresses are always useful," she agrees, and sighs. "We'll make it work. I can get a few blackthumbs to work on the best vehicles we have left. They can take parts from the Gigahorse if they need to."
She blinks, then smiles sheepishly, because she'd forgotten about the knife. Figures he wouldn't, though, it being one of his conditions. "I'll do that," she promises, and heads for the entrance back into the tunnels of the Citadel. "We're probably low on guns and ammunition, but I'd be willing to bet there are plenty of knives and bayonets."
Once inside, she pauses a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dark, then asks slowly, "You want to come along when I go through Joe's old things, too? He had a hoard in his chambers, not just the Vault."
He has some ten thousand years of memory under his belt, very little forgotten. Sometimes for better, sometimes for worse.
His own eyes adjust, somewhat grateful to be back in the dim as his kin preferred it.
Todd looked to her at the question, wondering why she was hesitant about it. "Absolutely." he grinned toothily. A chance to raid the old pig's treasures would be great. Or rather secondary treasures if you counted the former wives as he seemed to hold onto even more preciously.
She can't even imagine being so long-lived. It sounds miserable, actually. Not that she's looking to die anytime soon, but a human lifespan should be plenty. He's not human, though. His perspective is undoubtedly different.
She's a little amused by his enthusiasm, lips quirking briefly as she leads the way down the hall. "Tomorrow, then. By rights, I suppose his things are mine, since I'm the one that struck him down. I don't like going into his quarters. We used to have Imperator debriefings there. Never felt comfortable."
There's probably more she's not saying. Something about the twitch in her jaw suggests that much. She doesn't want the girls with her when she goes, because they'll have good guesses as to what she's thinking, and she doesn't want their compassion. At least not yet. Todd, she thinks, will be more interested in what they're looking at and what can be done with it. That, she can handle.
"Whatever we can use as trade goods, we should, but there might be things too useful to sell, as well."
Their lives might be longer, but it was true, a human's life, even here in the wastes, was far more full than a Wraith's. Art and music, the things humans took for granted and created with relative ease, practically non-existent in Wraith society. Even stories, apart from historical facts, weren't a part of their culture. If it didn't have to do with feeding, it was rarely a hit. The idea of fiction for entertainment was a mystery to them. Sparring between brothers or racing around in darts was about as far as entertainment got. Todd understood a bit of it all having been around humans-not to eat-far longer than any other of his kind known to him.
Even though he didn't know of her past with Joe, he could only imagine how awful standing in the man's quarters might feel. But while her anxiety may be up thinking about going into that room, excitement was his only feeling. His only regret was that Joe couldn't watch them touch what he hid second most dear to him.
Todd gave a grunt and nod when she told him when they'd go. The idea of doing it tonight was tempting but she likely had a lot to get done before bed and he was already pushing himself for adventures so soon out of the cell.
They headed inside the armory and he had a look around, though stuck nearby Furiosa as she called for "Toast".
Art and ornamentation is still very much alive after the Apocalypse. Furiosa's tendency is to devalue non-functional artworks as mere trinkets, but she's much more enthusiastic about pretty tools, attractive clothing, well-made cars. Her personal steering wheel was quite elegant, set with intricate wire-work.
Stories, poetry, and music are different. Those are always valuable, in her eyes.
She guides them past the guards at the entrance to the armory, looking around for Toast. It's a large room with stacks of crates and shelving, and Toast is a petite girl, if gifted with more than the usual amount of grit and determination. It might take a minute to turn her up. In the meantime, Furiosa goes to a wall rack hung with various knives and looks them over critically. If she's going to give Todd one, it's going to be a decent one.
Todd follows along, drawing looks from the few war boys in the room. Furiosa stops in front of what is indeed a large wall of blades.
Hand-to-hand combat was always taught to the wraith, even the queens and females were taught at a young age how to fight. While a lot of their battles were in space, there were occasions that being on the ground left one vulnerable. As a result the wraith had developed two primary blades. A simple knife, often hidden in a boot or up a sleeve, and a long blade much like a scimitar. Their stunners were more often used, a large one akin to a shotgun or rifle for the drones and the pistol-sized ones everyone carried.
Todd browsed the wall, picking up and handling a knife that he liked then putting it back. Many were quite large and he wanted something small, simple. Finally he came across with with a sharp blade and a smooth plain handle. He slid it up his sleeve then swiftly drew it to see how it fit in his grasp. He held it by the tip and held it up to Furiosa. "I think I'll take this one."
He then looked around at the guns while they waited for Toast.
A bit like a rapier and a main gauche, perhaps? They seem to have a few swords in the armory, too. They're little-used, though. Hand to hand combat is still taught here, but war boys mostly fight from the backs of vehicles, which means they need ranged weaponry more than swords or daggers. Knives are mostly used for hunting or other practical tasks, but Furiosa and the pups she's taught know how to use every weapon they can get their hands on, from a rifle to a switchblade.
She lets Todd look over the blades, picking up and putting them down as he chooses, and nudges one or two toward him to inspect. Her choices in weapons are small but weighty, always with a tang the full length of the knife handle. The one he chooses is a weapon she approves of, and she smiles faintly. "You can have that one. Yes."
"We'll find you a sheath for it later, or I can have a leatherworker make one..." She follows him past a half-empty rack of rifles, and on the other side of it is where they find Toast. She's small and lean, but curvy, dusky-skinned, with short brown hair. There's a healing wound on one cheekbone, but it doesn't seem to bother her, stitches small and tidy. She seems to be cleaning a Smith and Wesson model 10, and doesn't even look up as they approach, busy.
"Hey, Furi. So, you let him out after all?" she says, smirking. "That Corpus is going to be horrified."
"Corpus isn't in charge," Furiosa points out. "But he can be horrified all he wants. You can call this one Todd. Todd, this is Toast."
He nodded his thanks then added, "Don't need a sheath" he said, sliding the knife back up his sleeve. Hidden from view and easy to access if needed.
He followed her around and got to meet Toast, which was, if possible, an even stranger name than The Dag. She seemed to care even less about him than the other woman had. Fortunately his Wraith pride died many years ago.
Like the Dag, he inclined his head respectfully when Furiosa introduced him but looked back at the former imperator. "Who's Corpus?" he asked. Another of Joe's close henchmen?
"More power to you, then." She flashes him a wry smile. The metal will keep better outside a sheath, anyway. "I'll get you a little clean oil to sharpen it with later."
Toast is watching them out of the corner of her eye, but it's her way to appear as unimpressed as possible until she can't any longer. She's curious, though. Once the ice is broken, he may be peppered with questions. Todd's Wraith pride might be more gratified when he meets Cheedo. She does wide-eyed, innocent awe better than anyone Furiosa knows.
"Corpus is one of Joe's sons," Furiosa answers. "The middle son. He had three, but the other two are dead."
"Good riddance," Toast adds, and rubs the stock of the gun clean with a rag. "They're all bad seeds, you know."
"Maybe so, but Corpus has the potential to be useful." She looks at Todd. "He's the small one. Confined to a chair, with delicate bones. He knows more about the old trade alliances than anyone else in the place, though."
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sarken
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-13 04:56 am (UTC)"Not a war boy," she shakes her head, moving between rows of plants and pausing to watch a bee work with visible pleasure. "No, he was a feral. They'd been using him as a bloodbag, and he got dragged into the field on the front of a war vehicle. It's amazing how cruel we can be without even trying."
'We' meaning ostensibly the Citadel, or maybe war boy culture. It might be applicable to humanity as a whole, though. "But he got loose in the storm, joined us, fought with us. And he gave me his blood when I was dying."
She won't forget that. It's a monumental thing, to have someone give you freely what they've had taken from them once by force. "But I think he's wedded to the road. I'll miss him, but he's gone now. Maybe he'll come back some day."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-13 05:24 am (UTC)The smell of herbs greeted him as they continued along the path. Rosemary, basil, parsley, all growing full and well in the sun and damp earth.
As they made their way along the rows and came to the end where an open area had been freshly tilled, a woman with long platinum blonde hair was kneeling in the dirt and almost tenderly burying seed after seed in the dark soil.
Todd looked to Furiosa. "One of the Sisters?" he guessed
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-13 04:40 pm (UTC)She's giving him a thoughtful, almost soft look as they turn the corner toward the garden, and touches his arm lightly without speaking, a second, subtler thanks.
She's quick to brighten at seeing the Dag working, though. She wastes no time. "That's the Dag. She has the seed hoard from the Vuvalini."
Furiosa whistles to catch the other woman's attention and wanders over when she looks up. "Working alone?"
"Cheedo went to fetch extra water," she answers, tones clipped but not hostile. Her gaze strays to Todd quickly, sharp and thoughtful.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-13 05:03 pm (UTC)But also, though he'd never admit it out loud, he longed for that companionship again like that he'd shared with the man who's named him. Perhaps also why he'd healed her, hoping to regain that familiarity.
Todd glanced to her touching his arm but said nothing of it.
Ah, so this was the gardener he'd heard about.
He looked around the cleared area and what the woman-and her vacant companion-had accomplished so far. Needless to say they didn't waste time around here. Two days ago they were dealing with Joe after all.
He turned back to her when she spoke and he politely inclined his head. "My name is Todd." he introduced. If she cared to know about anything more of him, then she need only ask, if not, he need not bother elaborating.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-15 01:21 am (UTC)"Todd," the Dag repeats, a little distantly. "So you're the monster old Joe kept under the bed, eh? Not so scary. What's this about, then?" She gestures to indicate the markings around his one eye.
Furiosa's expression is a blend of amusement and mild apology. The Dag has no tact whatsoever, but she's very bright and very observant.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-15 02:11 am (UTC)When she gestured to his tattoos he answered, "A symbol of a great victory my kin had. A very, very long time ago. My kin do not mark themselves like humans do. We do it only when we achieve or accomplish something great."
Also because of their healing ability the process to get a tattoo was far more of a pain than it was for humans so tats merely for decoration were very few and far between. Usually only Queens got them.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-16 01:23 am (UTC)"War boys cut the shapes of engine parts into their flesh," Furiosa says. "As totems. Engines can be fixed. Human bodies are harder to deal with. Mysterious. They hope if they carve spanners or engines onto themselves, they'll be a little more fixable. Last a little longer."
She puts her hand up to touch the brand on the back of her neck. "Thinking some of us will want ink to cover up these, though, before long." She hates that brand, that symbol. She's not sure if it's better or worse that so many others share it.
"Oh, definitely," the Dag says, and displays her tattooed knuckles. "Let me know when you want yours done, Fury. Miss Giddy taught me."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-16 01:49 am (UTC)It took a great deal to leave a Wraith with a scar. Even old ones, with enough feeding, healed up. He'd only met a handful of fellow wraith who'd had been injured beyond healing.
He glanced to the brand on the back of Furiosa's neck. Joe had tried to brand him too, on his shoulder, to mark him as his, but thanks to his healing, it was gone within the first feeding. Still, no less painful.
As the two women spoke to one another, his eyes landed on a large bag near the Dag. Mindful of the rows, he stepped over to it and peered inside. Seeds. Dozens of types, hundreds of each. Where had they gathered so many in such variety?
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-16 02:25 am (UTC)Were she aware he'd been branded but healed, she'd be both sympathetic and envious. She'd do a lot to get Joe's mark off of her skin, but even getting it surgically removed from her would leave a scar where it had been. That doesn't strike her as productive. Better to cover it with something better, than to allow the dead Immortan to take one more ounce of flesh and blood from her.
The Dag notes what he's doing before Furiosa does, and reacts much as if he were coming over to peer at a vulnerable infant in her care. She doesn't snatch the bag or push him away, but she does put both hands on it, an unmistakeably possessive gesture. "They're heirlooms," she tells him. "Precious."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-16 02:40 am (UTC)He doesn't touch it nor get any closer to her. Like a mother guarding her young. But he simply nods. "Indeed they are. How'd you come by so many, might I ask?"
If they'd been Joe's, he suspected they wouldn't be carried around like luggage. Had they come across a bunker like his during their flight? Or perhaps the road man Furiosa spoke of had them?
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-18 01:09 am (UTC)"When we left the Citadel to escape, we made it all the way out to where my clan, my people, used to live." Furiosa explains for her. "One of our elders had been keeping them for years. Judith, our Seed-Mother. She died in the battle, but...these live on."
She does a subtle grasping gesture in the air and pulls her hand to her sternum. A memorial for the dead, perhaps. The Dag does the same thing, a little warily.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-18 01:44 am (UTC)The gesture was curious, much like the salutes human soldiers gave one another, though he assumed it didn't mean the same thing. He doesn't ask about it though.
He looked over the field planted thus far. It was strange to think that one day this area would help sustain not only everyone here but also himself. No more feeding on humans. Unless they deserved it of course.
Inclining his head at the Dag, he and Furiosa continued on their tour. The sun was starting its dip below the horizon, and though he'd not admit it, he was feeling the day's stress. Still, the prospect seeing the stars again, especially this high up, kept him going.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-18 02:22 am (UTC)"When do you want the expedition to find your cache?" she asks. "You want to settle in first, for a few days?"
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-18 02:33 am (UTC)"I would like to as soon as possible." he answered with a nod. After all, who knew when or if the other towns attacked and it might be better to have some incentives to work together. Knowledge was always worth pausing a moment for.
"However, such a trek as I mentioned is several days back and forth so it would be wise for me to regain my strength for another couple days before setting out. Also time will be needed to prepare provisions for the journey as well as decide on which rig to bring and how many need to actually go."
The fewer the better to avoid the need to bring a lot of food and water, as well as keep a low profile. He could technically go alone, but not only would it take longer without at least a second person to take over driving to rest in shifts, but also he doubted they trusted him to just wander off with a rig.
"If everything in the bunker is intact and still there, there's about two-shacks worth of things within it." he said to give her an idea of how much room on a rig they'd need.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-28 05:42 pm (UTC)...no. It would better to use a lower-profile car and make the trip with just him and her, maybe Hela or Maat. "I'm going to have to check the garages and see what we have to work with. Ah, fukushima, that reminds me, I need to go through the armory with Toast, too."
She rubs her face. This has been a nice interlude, walking with him, and she'd forgotten how much work she has to do.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-28 08:40 pm (UTC)"Still have things to do? Very well, let's go, you can give me that knife you promised while we're there."
And he could meet more of whom he could only assume were more of the Sisters. Unless they talked to bread here.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-28 09:45 pm (UTC)She blinks, then smiles sheepishly, because she'd forgotten about the knife. Figures he wouldn't, though, it being one of his conditions. "I'll do that," she promises, and heads for the entrance back into the tunnels of the Citadel. "We're probably low on guns and ammunition, but I'd be willing to bet there are plenty of knives and bayonets."
Once inside, she pauses a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dark, then asks slowly, "You want to come along when I go through Joe's old things, too? He had a hoard in his chambers, not just the Vault."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-28 10:15 pm (UTC)His own eyes adjust, somewhat grateful to be back in the dim as his kin preferred it.
Todd looked to her at the question, wondering why she was hesitant about it. "Absolutely." he grinned toothily. A chance to raid the old pig's treasures would be great. Or rather secondary treasures if you counted the former wives as he seemed to hold onto even more preciously.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-29 02:16 am (UTC)She's a little amused by his enthusiasm, lips quirking briefly as she leads the way down the hall. "Tomorrow, then. By rights, I suppose his things are mine, since I'm the one that struck him down. I don't like going into his quarters. We used to have Imperator debriefings there. Never felt comfortable."
There's probably more she's not saying. Something about the twitch in her jaw suggests that much. She doesn't want the girls with her when she goes, because they'll have good guesses as to what she's thinking, and she doesn't want their compassion. At least not yet. Todd, she thinks, will be more interested in what they're looking at and what can be done with it. That, she can handle.
"Whatever we can use as trade goods, we should, but there might be things too useful to sell, as well."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-08-29 02:48 am (UTC)Even though he didn't know of her past with Joe, he could only imagine how awful standing in the man's quarters might feel. But while her anxiety may be up thinking about going into that room, excitement was his only feeling. His only regret was that Joe couldn't watch them touch what he hid second most dear to him.
Todd gave a grunt and nod when she told him when they'd go. The idea of doing it tonight was tempting but she likely had a lot to get done before bed and he was already pushing himself for adventures so soon out of the cell.
They headed inside the armory and he had a look around, though stuck nearby Furiosa as she called for "Toast".
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Date: 2016-08-30 02:34 am (UTC)Stories, poetry, and music are different. Those are always valuable, in her eyes.
She guides them past the guards at the entrance to the armory, looking around for Toast. It's a large room with stacks of crates and shelving, and Toast is a petite girl, if gifted with more than the usual amount of grit and determination. It might take a minute to turn her up. In the meantime, Furiosa goes to a wall rack hung with various knives and looks them over critically. If she's going to give Todd one, it's going to be a decent one.
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Date: 2016-08-30 02:47 am (UTC)Hand-to-hand combat was always taught to the wraith, even the queens and females were taught at a young age how to fight. While a lot of their battles were in space, there were occasions that being on the ground left one vulnerable. As a result the wraith had developed two primary blades. A simple knife, often hidden in a boot or up a sleeve, and a long blade much like a scimitar. Their stunners were more often used, a large one akin to a shotgun or rifle for the drones and the pistol-sized ones everyone carried.
Todd browsed the wall, picking up and handling a knife that he liked then putting it back. Many were quite large and he wanted something small, simple. Finally he came across with with a sharp blade and a smooth plain handle. He slid it up his sleeve then swiftly drew it to see how it fit in his grasp. He held it by the tip and held it up to Furiosa. "I think I'll take this one."
He then looked around at the guns while they waited for Toast.
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Date: 2016-09-05 05:11 pm (UTC)She lets Todd look over the blades, picking up and putting them down as he chooses, and nudges one or two toward him to inspect. Her choices in weapons are small but weighty, always with a tang the full length of the knife handle. The one he chooses is a weapon she approves of, and she smiles faintly. "You can have that one. Yes."
"We'll find you a sheath for it later, or I can have a leatherworker make one..." She follows him past a half-empty rack of rifles, and on the other side of it is where they find Toast. She's small and lean, but curvy, dusky-skinned, with short brown hair. There's a healing wound on one cheekbone, but it doesn't seem to bother her, stitches small and tidy. She seems to be cleaning a Smith and Wesson model 10, and doesn't even look up as they approach, busy.
"Hey, Furi. So, you let him out after all?" she says, smirking. "That Corpus is going to be horrified."
"Corpus isn't in charge," Furiosa points out. "But he can be horrified all he wants. You can call this one Todd. Todd, this is Toast."
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Date: 2016-09-05 05:23 pm (UTC)He followed her around and got to meet Toast, which was, if possible, an even stranger name than The Dag. She seemed to care even less about him than the other woman had. Fortunately his Wraith pride died many years ago.
Like the Dag, he inclined his head respectfully when Furiosa introduced him but looked back at the former imperator. "Who's Corpus?" he asked. Another of Joe's close henchmen?
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Date: 2016-09-05 07:42 pm (UTC)Toast is watching them out of the corner of her eye, but it's her way to appear as unimpressed as possible until she can't any longer. She's curious, though. Once the ice is broken, he may be peppered with questions. Todd's Wraith pride might be more gratified when he meets Cheedo. She does wide-eyed, innocent awe better than anyone Furiosa knows.
"Corpus is one of Joe's sons," Furiosa answers. "The middle son. He had three, but the other two are dead."
"Good riddance," Toast adds, and rubs the stock of the gun clean with a rag. "They're all bad seeds, you know."
"Maybe so, but Corpus has the potential to be useful." She looks at Todd. "He's the small one. Confined to a chair, with delicate bones. He knows more about the old trade alliances than anyone else in the place, though."
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