CHIEF

WHERE DO YOU GO WHEN THE PLACE YOU'RE FLEEING TO IS NO DIFFERENT TO THE PLACE YOU'RE RUNNING FROM?

[duncan-gist]

[furiiosa-blog]

                    [ GUITAR THRASHING IN DISTANCE ]

[droptherocks-blog]

nice helmet hair chief

[droptherocks-blog]

sicklyvulture

He wants to ask the Rider why else he was stopped if the Chief doesn’t need anything from him, but figures it’s ultimately best to remain quiet until it comes to be his turn to offer up another response.

“…Ah,” an underwhelming response, Nipper glances down at himself to inspect his own tools, letting his scarred fingers trace over the equipment. “Thank you. You have…,” he struggles off, before raising the hand that was previously on his belt, “impressive horns. You’re– you’re sure you didn’t need something?” He presses again, tentative.

His comment about the horns gets a good laugh out of the chief. Maybe Sawyer is being too relaxed around a warboy, but his hesitance is reassuring. He could even go as far as to say it’s a little endearing. Without acknowledging the last bit, he continues with his thought.

“-----You got a lot of working people here. Don’t suppose there’s anyone who would miss it if you traded one of those away.” He waves his hand, almost dismissively. “Hypothetically. 

[jeffsimpsonkh]

I’m a bit late to the mad max party, but I finally drew some Furiosa

[mynameismilkthemusclegirl]

you win

[droptherocks-blog]

ivakir

His words echoed off inside her head, causing dizziness. Iv heard that the rocks were inhabited by people, but she didn’t meet any of them before. Without taking her eyes off him, Iv’s hand was trying to find her staff. No, too far from her. She could not defend herself because she was too weak at the moment. She just wanted to stand up. - I’m just, - her voice was hoarse because of thirst. - No, it’s just dummy, - she slowly pronounced the words, making hand gestures. Any reaction of people on her strangeness was a great proof of how she became lost to society, how far she has gone in her illusions. - No, I’m not looking for, - she spoke with difficulty because of the pain in throat. - I just … rest, yes. I do not want problems. Iv wasn’t afraid, because she was too exhausted to be afraid. - I am a trader, - of course, she knew that she was looked pretty pity to be a trader. - If you want something, then I’m ready to exchange. Just give me some time to recover. In fact, Iv felt that she wasn’t ready to trade right now, but she hoped it will save her life.

Sawyer remains silent after his initial question, watching and waiting for any sign that she could turn violent. When that doesn’t come, he feels a sense of pity. And as much as he knows that pity is dangerous in the wastes, the hoarseness of her voice, the delirium with which she speaks, it becomes too much to ignore. If she was telling the truth, then there would be something to get out of this.

That’s how he justifies reaching into the pocket of his trousers, and pulling out a flask, not unlike her own. The main difference is that this one holds water.

“-----I don’t want problems either.” He holds it out for her to see, and eventually takes the few careful steps necessary for it to be within her reach. His gun remains within his reach as well, just in case his charity goes unappreciated.

[droptherocks-blog]

spoke-of-the-citadel

The war boy furrowed his brow. He wasn’t sure what the chief meant, but he was almost positive the Immortan wouldn’t be happy about it. This would not bode well. Not for the mountain hoppers anyway.

“You have big words, but a small tribe. The Immortan has big words and an army! Are you sure you want to be against that?” Spoke grinned at the prospect of war.

Sawyer has to grit his teeth to keep from responding too quickly. From the corner of his eye, one of his senior riders is anxiously looking between him, and the intruders. As much as it angers him, he knows the messenger is right; they’re ill equipped for an all out war against the Immortan’s forces. Even if with the upper hand in battle, resources would immediately be shut off to not just him, but the entire tribe. He has to force himself to play by their rules, for the riders. That’s what they need him to do.

It doesn’t stop him from hating the Immortan, and this cocky messenger of his, more by the minute, though. 

“---------We never claimed to be against the Immortan. He, of all people, should know the worth of his alliance.” Sawyer’s tone shifts. Less emotion. “------Any deal we make, we make with only our regard in mind. The mechanic bargained well, and we let him pass. That’s the end of it, warboy.”

[peanutbutterbandwidth]

From Dusk til Dawn, 1996

- desert roads

[droptherocks-blog]

>

[celluloidtoharddrives]

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) Directed by George Miller

The Rock Riders were played by a crew of international motocross champions to better execute their movements and stunts due to their familiarity with this particular type of motorcycling.

[droptherocks-blog]

spoke-of-the-citadel

Spoke takes a deep breath. The seriousness of the matter at hand has to transfer clearly so he prepare his voice to carry over the space.

“The Citadel has caught word that a traitor mechanic has passed through your land. You must know the great Immortan does not take kindly to such actions. In his graciousness he is giving the chance to explain them.” His voice booms like an authority though he is only the messenger. He doesn’t understand why such a crime would be given this much trial, but who is he to question the Immortan Joe.

He grips the handlebars of his bike tightly, first in anticipation, then in offense. Sawyer knows full well the exact mechanic in question. The warboy had offered valuable commodities in return for one-way passage, of course he agreed. It wasn’t his fault for the Citadel’s insanity driving one of its own away, the chief knew that.

“We have nothing to explain to the Immortan.” He barks the words out, louder, more harshly than necessary; he’s getting defensive. Some voice of reason in his head tries to pull him back.  “Does your leader always make a point to threaten the cook for choking on his own food?”

[ringelrei]

found here

[alongtimealone]

Mark Daniel Nelson

[vash-the-scavenger-blog]

At the Gates (Closed w/ Droptherocks)

[droptherocks-blog]

vash-the-scavenger

Originally he intended it to be a single trip, but he likes the idea of unlimited passage. He quickly recalculates his offer. His offer will have to be something longer spanning. Perhaps a cut of his finds, but how big of a cut. The numbers crunch in his head. What if nothing is out there? A deal with no profit is nothing to be a part of.

Of course. An idea springs forth in his mind.

“I intended only once, but if it can be worked out then many trips is nice. Not knowing what is past rocks I cannot make a full deal yet. I offer this. One time in and out for things I offer now if they are worthy. If it is profitable land I let you have first pick of things when I come through cliffs.” Vash is glad this leader has the mind to trade. Many would react violently just for him being a buzzard, Of course, his fellows gave plenty of reason to be violent which is why he often traveled alone.

From behind his cover, Sawyer can’t resist the look of surprise, as well as satisfaction. Of all the deals he’s made in regards to passage, this is by far the one that leans the most in his favor. And while he entertained generosity as much as was safe, he did enjoy prosperity.

“You make a good bargain.” He comments, taking a solid amount of time to feign thinking it over. “-------We have a deal. But just for you, buzzard. Alone.”

[spoke-of-the-citadel-blog]

Spoke approached the looming cliffs at a moderate speed with two fellow war boys on bikes behind his own. This was a strange trip. A rarity among rarities. He had been sent to deliver a message to the rock hoppers up there.

As he drew closer he let out a howl to alert of his presence. He stopped his bike at a distance he could yell to the cliffs.

“The Citadel has a message! To the Cliff Springers. The tribe at the top of the rocks!.” He bellowed.

[droptherocks-blog]

It’s equally as strange for Sawyer to receive direct visitation from any member of the Citadel’s forces. They’re two forces with power, that much isn’t easy to debate, but the Citadel is much larger, and is the only clear-cut provider of key resources. That was the kicker.

If they crossed paths, it was always on the Citadel’s soil. Never like this. Sawyer wouldn’t consider himself a pessimist, but the harsh, sinking feeling that creeps up on him doesn’t bode well, and he can only find himself thinking of the worst.

“-----We’ll hear it.”

[droptherocks-blog]

(sorry replies and such have been taking a bit! ive been doodling a lot so...here’s some stuff from the past day or so)

[ivakir]

starter for  droptherocks ! Iv felt overwhelmed after sleep. She sighed and rubbed her head, which seemed to split into a thousand pieces. But what happened to her? She just sat down to rest and did not notice that she fell asleep? Maybe. She couldn’t remember exactly. Only that she didn’t sleep for two days. - Grand, give me water. Silence. Well, of course, how plaster head could say something? - … I’ll take by myself. Rummaging in her pockets, Iv found a flask. Surprisingly, it was pretty light, but Iv hoped that there was water. The only thing that would give her relief. But in the throat dropped only a couple grains of sand. - Damn! Probably she forgot to close the cap, and all water drained out. Ivakir angrily slammed her fist on the ground and immediately grimaced in pain. - Grand! Where are you, white head? The head of the manikin had no value, but sometimes Iv just needed someone to talk to - she didn’t want to go mad from loneliness or talking to herself. While Iv was trying to find the head, she realized that she wasn’t alone. She stopped abruptly, as if she was caught in some crime. - You’re not Grand Wilhelm Ferdinand the Third, - Iv said with sincere disappointment.

[droptherocks-blog]

It isn’t the first time he’s come across a limp, motionless figure in one of the more isolated areas of the canyon. Lone travelers who think the rocks will give them some kind of safe haven. Most of the time it’s nature that gets them; hunger, starvation, blistering hot or freezing cold. If that doesn’t take them first, then one of his people might. That’s just how it is.

Sawyer has every intention of looting what’s left, but as he approaches, she stirs. He fleetingly wonders if it’s wrong to wish she would have just stayed down.

He’s standing well within her field of view, a hand resting near the holster of his gun if she turns violent, but it takes her almost 2 minutes to even take note of his presence.

“Can’t say that I am.” The chief keeps his words cautious and simple. “That who you’re looking for?”