They'll have to talk about Wraith hives later. Furiosa has almost no inkling of his species culture. Very little has survived the apocalypse, in the way of information. It's possible Immortan Joe had some books in his personal chambers, though. Regardless, she will be fascinated to hear about Queens.
The Wasteland has mixed feelings on congenital deformities in its children. Life is so harsh on the healthy, the chances of a weak infant are very, very poor. Still, the ones that can make it in spite of their weaknesses often prove themselves very cunning, or very tough, indeed. Corpus and Rictus were coddled, being Joe's sons as they were. Furiosa is still hesitant to underestimate Joe's last living blood.
She sees Todd grin, though, and knows he can tell exactly what she's thinking. She's starting to like him quite a bit, and she gives him a subtle, approving nod.
Meanwhile, he's asked Toast exactly the right question. She straightens her spine a little further, proud. "I was Wasteland-born, but my family settled at the Bullet Farm when I was little. I was counting rounds as soon as I learned numbers, and I could load a gun long before I came here."
"The other girls call her the Knowing sometimes," Furiosa says. She likes Toast. She's practical, and fearless. "For good reason."
The Queens were everything to the Wraith. A hive felt and looked weak without one. They lived double his own age at their peak and were more powerful than a male. They controlled legions of drones with a mere thought and the only thing she had to fear was another Queen.
There is much to talk about and little if anything was actually jotted down about the Wraith. His and his kin's involvement was more or less right before the world went apart. Most about them was at Stargate Command and Area 51, far, far from here. And everything released when the Stargate program went public was mostly on the internet, long gone now.
He listens attentively to her little backstory. So, like Furiosa, not born here. Taken. Or perhaps given as a gift between towns for Joe.
He glanced to Furiosa when she mentioned a nickname for Toast. More names. Thank goodness for a long memory.
A little more talk before they left, heading back to Organics as Todd needed some rest.
"Good group here. A shame much of their early lives were wasted with Joe leading them." he said
Furiosa and Toast work together well. There's a level of comfort there that wasn't present with the Dag. More like her interaction with Hela, the Vuvalini, earlier on. As fond as she is of all the Sisters she rescued and fought with, Furiosa is most comfortable with people who can handle themselves in a fight. Rough people that she doesn't have to worry about breaking.
Todd is tough, clearly, and not remotely breakable, although his inhuman intellect is several cuts above what she's used to. Her brain is leaping and bounding to try and keep up. She doesn't mind the workout.
"They are," she agrees with him, quietly proud. "The Sisters are shine and chrome. Even most of his soldiers, the war boys, are good men in spite of the old schlanger's best efforts. I just wish we hadn't had to kill so many in the road war." She pauses a moment, and looks sideways at him.
"I hate this place. I always have, thanks to him. But the people in it are worth building something better for."
He did have a couple years on her, still, there was much he had to learn from her as well.
"War always has its causalities." he said. The death of the world had taken everything from him after all. A way home, the humans he'd come to know, and a few loyal kin as well. He could only hope that, with the death of Joe, the world would start to heal. Or at least this corner of it.
There were signs it was. This place was already seeing great change thanks to Furiosa. And it had only been a couple days.
"Unless this Corpus starts going behind your back, recruiting against you, I think you'll have the war boy's full cooperation." he said. He stopped in their walk a moment to look at the sky, now dark and full of stars.
"Seen too much violence," she nods. "Maybe you have, too. We'll see still more, I'm sure. That's just...the world as it is now."
She's not happy about it, but unlike Angharad, she accepts it. Violence isn't inherently good or bad, she feels. Neither is killing. Both are tools, that can be used for bad ends or good ends, taken up and put back down as needed. If she has to use them to build this place up, she will, and grieve for it later.
"He won't be in a hurry to make trouble," she says. "I think he'll bide his time." And then she looks up with him, letting her shoulder bump his lightly, a friendly touch. "Do your people have different names for them than we humans do? The Vuvalini used the old Greek names for the stars. The War boys have their own."
Oh he'd seen a lot of killing and done his fair share of it, and not just for feeding.
He looked at her at the shoulder bump, a strange gesture, but shakes his head. "No, remember, we aren't the naming type." he chuckled with a grin. "Though thanks to several books I do know the names the Greek gave them."
His gaze returned to the sky for a bit longer before they continued to walk.
They were too far south to see the constellation Pegasus, in which his galaxy resided. Still, the open infinite of the sky was great to feel again.
At her best--on her own turf and her own terms--Furiosa is a fairly tactile person. It sometimes feels like a small triumph to be able to touch someone in a way that's neutral or kind rather than violent. She still remembers sleeping in puppy-piles with the younger trainees in the lancer barracks. The security of numbers, and the warmth of body heat.
She hums at his answer, nodding, and follows slowly, pointing. "Orion," she says. "The war boys call that one Blackfinger, and the three stars at the center are his toolbelt. And that one..."
She gestures to Ursa Major. "That one's the Spanner." Smile. "They're single-minded sometimes."
Oh did they have that in common. Young wraith did the same. All those who had yet to turn to feeding on humans stayed with one another in a creche. They did everything from eating and sleeping together to wandering their hive ship and learning about it and their older kin. You stayed in that group until maturity, and even then, like your brothers, you helped teach the younger generation.
A chuff as she described them. Humans couldn't help but name everything, even so, some names, like the Greek, stuck around for eons. Who knows? Perhaps in a thousand years Ursa Major would only be know as Spanner?
All too soon they were back at Organics. It had been quite the amazing day, and, thanks to Furiosa, he'd have more of them. Tomorrow they'd check out Joe's personal vault, and perhaps meet more of the sisters.
"Shall I wait for you to come to me tomorrow?" he asked, not quite sure about roaming around on his own just yet...also he had no idea where she rested in the Citadel so he'd likely find himself lost.
She'll like hearing about that. While the idea of a species that devours human life force is naturally unpleasant to her, and Todd is far from cuddly, some of his race's habits may be more reassuring to her than those of humans. He hasn't told her much yet, but from some of his offhanded comments, she's already intrigued.
Names have power, in Furiosa's estimation. Her own birth name, bestowed by her mother, is something she does not share casually. Furiosa is an initiate name, given later. Perhaps it suits her better, but there's a part of her that will always be Anna Jobassa, if only in remembrance of the mother that carried her.
"If you like, I can do that. I'm up at dawn. I'll bring you breakfast." She smiles a little. She did promise double rations for a while, to help him get back up to full strength. "Anything in here was Organic's, and you can have it. But if you need more or cleaner bedding, let me know in the morning. I'll see to it."
The Wraith nodded, thanked her again and they went their separate ways for the night.
He slept against the far wall as closer inspection of the mattress revealed some unpleasantness.
Just as well, the frame was very loud and creaky, and he was used to sleeping as he was. He just hoped when he awoke this wasn't some strange and wonderful dream.
Nope, it was real. Down to the smell.
Spine popping as he stood from the sitting position, Todd got up just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. While he waited for Furiosa, he began to work a bit on what was to be the hospital, tossing anything he knew right away that needed replacing or was just unneeded down the disposal chute. A little oil he found-who knows what its original purpose was-did the trick in stopping the squeaky bed and he applied it to all the others as well. In the end, all the mattresses had to go, stained or infested with something, there was no place for them here. Shoving them down the chute with the rest of the junk proved impossible so he merely moved them out of the room as a reminder they needed to be disposed of. Burning was likely the best course of action.
He was having a second look at some of the more intricate instruments when the far more pleasant aroma of food enticed him to the door.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sarken
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-08 02:19 am (UTC)The Wasteland has mixed feelings on congenital deformities in its children. Life is so harsh on the healthy, the chances of a weak infant are very, very poor. Still, the ones that can make it in spite of their weaknesses often prove themselves very cunning, or very tough, indeed. Corpus and Rictus were coddled, being Joe's sons as they were. Furiosa is still hesitant to underestimate Joe's last living blood.
She sees Todd grin, though, and knows he can tell exactly what she's thinking. She's starting to like him quite a bit, and she gives him a subtle, approving nod.
Meanwhile, he's asked Toast exactly the right question. She straightens her spine a little further, proud. "I was Wasteland-born, but my family settled at the Bullet Farm when I was little. I was counting rounds as soon as I learned numbers, and I could load a gun long before I came here."
"The other girls call her the Knowing sometimes," Furiosa says. She likes Toast. She's practical, and fearless. "For good reason."
hope you dont mind I nudged ahead a tad
Date: 2016-09-08 02:54 am (UTC)There is much to talk about and little if anything was actually jotted down about the Wraith. His and his kin's involvement was more or less right before the world went apart. Most about them was at Stargate Command and Area 51, far, far from here. And everything released when the Stargate program went public was mostly on the internet, long gone now.
He listens attentively to her little backstory. So, like Furiosa, not born here. Taken. Or perhaps given as a gift between towns for Joe.
He glanced to Furiosa when she mentioned a nickname for Toast. More names. Thank goodness for a long memory.
A little more talk before they left, heading back to Organics as Todd needed some rest.
"Good group here. A shame much of their early lives were wasted with Joe leading them." he said
no, it's perfect
Date: 2016-09-09 01:24 pm (UTC)Todd is tough, clearly, and not remotely breakable, although his inhuman intellect is several cuts above what she's used to. Her brain is leaping and bounding to try and keep up. She doesn't mind the workout.
"They are," she agrees with him, quietly proud. "The Sisters are shine and chrome. Even most of his soldiers, the war boys, are good men in spite of the old schlanger's best efforts. I just wish we hadn't had to kill so many in the road war." She pauses a moment, and looks sideways at him.
"I hate this place. I always have, thanks to him. But the people in it are worth building something better for."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-09 05:58 pm (UTC)"War always has its causalities." he said. The death of the world had taken everything from him after all. A way home, the humans he'd come to know, and a few loyal kin as well. He could only hope that, with the death of Joe, the world would start to heal. Or at least this corner of it.
There were signs it was. This place was already seeing great change thanks to Furiosa. And it had only been a couple days.
"Unless this Corpus starts going behind your back, recruiting against you, I think you'll have the war boy's full cooperation." he said. He stopped in their walk a moment to look at the sky, now dark and full of stars.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-10 02:00 am (UTC)She's not happy about it, but unlike Angharad, she accepts it. Violence isn't inherently good or bad, she feels. Neither is killing. Both are tools, that can be used for bad ends or good ends, taken up and put back down as needed. If she has to use them to build this place up, she will, and grieve for it later.
"He won't be in a hurry to make trouble," she says. "I think he'll bide his time." And then she looks up with him, letting her shoulder bump his lightly, a friendly touch. "Do your people have different names for them than we humans do? The Vuvalini used the old Greek names for the stars. The War boys have their own."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-10 02:18 am (UTC)He looked at her at the shoulder bump, a strange gesture, but shakes his head. "No, remember, we aren't the naming type." he chuckled with a grin. "Though thanks to several books I do know the names the Greek gave them."
His gaze returned to the sky for a bit longer before they continued to walk.
They were too far south to see the constellation Pegasus, in which his galaxy resided. Still, the open infinite of the sky was great to feel again.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-11 04:03 am (UTC)She hums at his answer, nodding, and follows slowly, pointing. "Orion," she says. "The war boys call that one Blackfinger, and the three stars at the center are his toolbelt. And that one..."
She gestures to Ursa Major. "That one's the Spanner." Smile. "They're single-minded sometimes."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-11 04:22 am (UTC)A chuff as she described them. Humans couldn't help but name everything, even so, some names, like the Greek, stuck around for eons. Who knows? Perhaps in a thousand years Ursa Major would only be know as Spanner?
All too soon they were back at Organics. It had been quite the amazing day, and, thanks to Furiosa, he'd have more of them. Tomorrow they'd check out Joe's personal vault, and perhaps meet more of the sisters.
"Shall I wait for you to come to me tomorrow?" he asked, not quite sure about roaming around on his own just yet...also he had no idea where she rested in the Citadel so he'd likely find himself lost.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-14 02:31 am (UTC)Names have power, in Furiosa's estimation. Her own birth name, bestowed by her mother, is something she does not share casually. Furiosa is an initiate name, given later. Perhaps it suits her better, but there's a part of her that will always be Anna Jobassa, if only in remembrance of the mother that carried her.
"If you like, I can do that. I'm up at dawn. I'll bring you breakfast." She smiles a little. She did promise double rations for a while, to help him get back up to full strength. "Anything in here was Organic's, and you can have it. But if you need more or cleaner bedding, let me know in the morning. I'll see to it."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-14 02:44 am (UTC)He slept against the far wall as closer inspection of the mattress revealed some unpleasantness.
Just as well, the frame was very loud and creaky, and he was used to sleeping as he was. He just hoped when he awoke this wasn't some strange and wonderful dream.
Nope, it was real. Down to the smell.
Spine popping as he stood from the sitting position, Todd got up just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. While he waited for Furiosa, he began to work a bit on what was to be the hospital, tossing anything he knew right away that needed replacing or was just unneeded down the disposal chute. A little oil he found-who knows what its original purpose was-did the trick in stopping the squeaky bed and he applied it to all the others as well. In the end, all the mattresses had to go, stained or infested with something, there was no place for them here. Shoving them down the chute with the rest of the junk proved impossible so he merely moved them out of the room as a reminder they needed to be disposed of. Burning was likely the best course of action.
He was having a second look at some of the more intricate instruments when the far more pleasant aroma of food enticed him to the door.