PSL post (for datbackstory)

[eumenis]

Even after Immortan Joe is dead and the Citadel won, they all know Gastown will be a problem. The lack of leadership from the People Eater doesn't make much difference; he was never a war leader so much as a businessman. The ranks of Gastown boys, flamers and polecats, are decimated, but guzzoline draws all sorts of desperates. Where trained soldiers are lacking, mercenaries are easily obtainable. All it would take is one charismatic leader to fill the power vacuum, and they would have the might of a very large city coming at them.

Of course, Furiosa and the Sisters have faced terrible odds already and come out better than they had any right to. She dares to hope even if the worst happened, they could survive and win. But if they can head off trouble at the pass, they should make the attempt. As the only one of them that's ever actually been to Gastown before, Furiosa is the only sensible choice for diplomatic effort. She's not much of a diplomat when it comes down to it. She can talk down a frightened feral, evidently, but diplomacy requires more patience than that.

Still, after several days of meetings in the city--some of them more like physical sparring matches than discussions--she thinks things are going well, and feels like she can breathe again. She slips away from the half-dozen war boys she's brought along as an entourage, and goes walking in the quieter alleys, the hovels on the edge of the marl pits. Half of them are being swallowed by sinkholes, and the rest are foul, but she won't be attacked here. The population is too sparse this far out.

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[datbackstory]

The Spine is all too happy to start to obey until she says the second part, that she'd try and hold it off. Nothing about that made him feel better, as he was prepared to offer to do that in her stead, as between the two? He was a much less attractive meal. Which meant that when those questing mouths breached the sand near Furiosa's heel, he spotted them.

"Furiosa, on your six!" Already running her way instead of towards the car, trusting that Throttle would get it running while he made damn sure that the strange creature wouldn't be pulling anyone under the sand again. If Furiosa was quick enough to backstep? Well she'd see three of those horrible tentacles, all intent on grabbing tight to whatever they could of her to drag under.

The running, the noise were hint enough that the creature's prey knew it was there, it would have to be quick. Not that it mattered much, it had been able to pull the last prey's vehicle under why would this be any different?

[eumenis]

She's the leader; the leader takes the risks. Granted, he's right that he would be a far less attractive meal. Actually, depending on how much he weighs, the creature might not even be able to drag or swallow him...but she's not always logical about these things.

She's attentive, though, in a crisis, and she registers the warning and responds almost instantly, turning, dodging, and firing at the nearest tentacle. She's got excellent aim, and there's a resulting spray of ichor, which makes her grimade in disgust. The other tentacles twitch and writhe, like the shockwave or the sound has upset them, and they slide under the sand briefly, hiding but not gone.

And then the car's engine starts up. Throttle's doing his job, and he's doing it well, but the rattle and thrum of a V8 gets the monster's attention away from the other prey. Now it's turning and heading right for the vehicle...

[datbackstory]

He was relieved that she reacted so swiftly, but noticed the reaction of the uninjured tentacles at the shot. Implications are there, but no time to really test them, it was time to leave, far beyond time to leave.

"C'mon!" Not even thinking twice about taking her hand not the one she needed to shoot with, but he didn't want to turn and run without some physical link, some guard against another attempt as they ran for it however tenuous it was.

The creature had learned quickly that those large vehicles? Were often full of tasty prey, so it was all too happy to go right after Throttle and the car. Only Spine would be able to tell where it was going, optics brightening in alarm as he realized.

"It's going for the Septireme!"

[eumenis]

It's her left hand he grabs, the one made of metal, and she's so shocked by it she forgets to protest or resist. Before the road war, most of her crew viewed the metal arm with a weirdly religious awe. With a few exceptions, they wouldn't touch it deliberately lest they be struck with lightning from Valhalla or some such foolishness. She didn't discourage the notion; she hates to be grabbed. Under the circumstances, though, it's for the best that she doesn't think to resist.

Her legs are long, but not as long as his, and she has to move at a fierce pace to keep up with him. Her scarred lung won't like that, long term, but right now everything is working well enough for her to shout her own warning in rapid succession after his: "Throttle! Eyes down! Incoming!"

Throttle is a good war boy; he responds quickly to orders. Still, there's only so fast his reflexes can respond, and even as he gropes under the dash for a rifle, the car rocks, tires popping and hissing with the impact of the creature under the sand.

[datbackstory]

When things were calmer, when adrenaline had faded, The Spine would apologize for grabbing Furiosa without so much as a warning. There were more important things to worry about, like the front tires of the car sinking a good four inches, the creak of metal hinting that the creature had grabbed hold of the undercarriage somewhere and had a good hold. And the way the car was jerked and tugged by the grip, the bot worried that Throttle would have trouble escaping before the creature had the car under the sand.

So when they got close enough, he let go of Furiosa's hand, sand spraying as he skidded to a halt, grabbing hold of the car by the rollcage, bracing against the sudden tug from the creature trying to drag it under. Heels drove furrows into the dirt, but with a shift of his stance the bot seemed to be holding his own, keeping the car from being dragged under by the mysterious creature.

"Throttle get out of there!" He didn't know how long he could keep the Septireme above the ground, didn't want to risk the Warboy going under with it. Steam hissed from vents as his grasp tightened, metal crumpling under his fingers with a creak, the creature trying to drag the car under screeching it's frustration at being stymied.

[eumenis]

When the car rocks and starts sinking, Throttle yelps, eyes wide, and gets tumbled to the side. He's quick to try scrambling back up, but the Spine's fears are justified; the way the vehicle is being thrashed and worried, he keeps getting hurled into the dash and the seats awkwardly before he can reach the door handles.

Furiosa still has her gun drawn, and once she's released she crouches, hastening toward the back of the car where the monster has it gripped. She squeezes off a round or two, but there's no way to get a good shot in. The sand and the car itself block her way, and she swears loudly.

The hiss of steam from the Spine's vents make her turn, wide eyed, and really look at what he's doing. Fukushima. It's a tug of war between a ridiculously powerful monster, and a silver metal man pouring steam and fog like some kind of angel of the Fury Road. She's struck by the image, just for a split second.

Then Throttle hurls himself through an open front window and scrambles away. He's managed to grab the rifle, which is good because as soon as the Spine lets go or loses his grip, their car is going down.

[datbackstory]

He didn't even think about how absolutely ridiculous the situation was, or how things might look. More concerned with keeping Throttle from being dragged under the ground. When he finally saw the warboy all but fall out the window, he finally let go with a startled huff of steam, stumbling back to keep from getting caught up.

Whatever the creature was, it wasn't expecting the sudden loss of resistance, and as the car was suddenly dragged much farther, much faster, there was a screech from under the sand before everything went deathly silent and still aside from the slide of sand into the sumbmerged vehicle, the small pings and creaks of the metal settling.

The creature hadn't cared for being hit by the Septireme like that, and with the abundance of easier prey elsewhere? It was not sticking around for this group.

Not that The Spine had waited to see this, moving to help Throttle to his feet in case they had to run, optics bright as he turned his attention to the car. "...don't think it was expecting that much resistance, it's leaving pretty quick."