#furiousredemption

[radiaking]

*plays 'goodbye earl' by the chicks. stares at you the whole time*

COOP VC: I AM A FARMER. IN LOVE WITH AN ANGEL. I'VE DONE NOTHING WRONG IN MY LIFE EVER!!!

[atomiqueen]

♔ — memes / accepting!

@furiousredemption said: “it's not the worst injury i've ever seen, but it's pretty bad.”

        The bone in Lucy's right forearm is not quite poking out through the skin, but it does seem to have come pretty close. Broken sometime in the chase away from the Citadel, they have a brief moment now for the treatment of injuries.

        And for mourning the lost.

        It's surreal for Lucy to be surrounded by so many women after spending more than half her life hiding amongst men in the Citadel. One of the elders—the Vuvalini—steps forward and offers to set the bone for her. Lucy swallows thickly, grits her teeth, and holds out her arm knowing it must be done.

        It hurts, too much for her to remain silent through the pain. She cries out sharply and whimpers after, though the Vuvalini woman is gentle while wrapping the break in a makeshift sling.

        “Thank you,” she says to the woman, when the thing is done. Then turning to Furiosa: “And thank you.” They may not be truly safe yet, but they are at least clear of Immortan Joe's hands for now. Furiosa did not have to take her with them. But she did.

[heartsdefine]

a smol angharad starter for @furiousredemption as i feel out her voice

        Angharad has already been stuck in bed longer than she particularly likes, but with her leg being slow to mend she doesn't have much choice. At least she's able to keep her son close by, in the pram Capable brought in to her new room for her. Angharad is sitting up, holding the child preciously in her arms, when Furiosa finally makes an appearance. Knowing the (former) Imperator, she's up and about sooner than she ought to be, but Angharad is happy to see her with the strength to stand nevertheless.

        “I've been thinking about a name,” Angharad says, instead of asking Furiosa how she feels. A pause, as her eyes fall briefly to the scrunched, fresh face of her son, then rise again to the woman who made his safety possible. “What do you think of Max?”

[harriedwritings]

    ( closed for @furiousredemption​ - max & furiosa )

There was never any telling how long he’d been gone. He certainly didn’t keep track. But he found it best not to question when the course he drove started to eke him home back. He tried not to come back empty-handed. Never did. Didn’t actively look for stuff, but found it anyway, kept things for them, brought them useful things or useless things they’d like anyway. Books. Soil samples and coordinates. A wind-up frog once. This time was a find and a half.

He closed his eyes going up the lift into the Citadel, his fingers drumming at the steering wheel -- he welcomed the static, helping to usher the ghosts into the quieter corners of his mind. They led him to Furiosa without asking, idly chattering away about the goings on. He wasn’t really listening, but the knowledge that things were going well here was...good. He needed that. Especially after where...hm.

When he saw her, he said nothing, just took the bag from his shoulder and set it down on a table. The only thing in there was a tool box, one that had definitely been stashed away at the edge of Before. Why definitely? Because he knew this for a fact. Because he’d stashed it.

Max cleared his throat, nodding at the bag. “-- Found it. Out at uh-- Past uh-- hm.” He frowned, unsure of how to put it into words. Settled for opening up the bag, withdrawing the tool box.

“-- From before.” He nudged the toolbox toward her. “-- More use for you.”

[harriedwritings]

    ( @furiousredemption​ || modern!au )

The downside was that Shadow was sprinting away from him on their walk.

The plus side was that Max recognised the woman towards whom Shadow was running full-pelt, tail going like mad. She was in his catchment zone for post-delivery. Decent enough woman, not that it was any of his business, if the way she answered the door was any indication. Sometimes other people answered. Young women, mostly. Again, not like it was any of his business. The point was that he didn’t feel the need to run after Shadow to stop the staffy from excitedly wagging her tail at F. Bassa, which was probably for the best, being as his knee was fucking killing him. Which made this somewhat of a downside as well, he supposed.

But he digressed, and instead, just made his painstaking way towards his dog and her target, the look on his face more than a little apologetic. “-- Sorry ‘bout her,” he directed towards the woman who he...really didn’t know, once he was close enough for it to be audible. “-- She uh-- She really likes people.”

[harriedwritings]

“ debates are stupid because why would i want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me” (this is absolutely for max)

    ( @furiousredemption )

Max’s response was simple and unrequiring of much thought;

“– Usually you’re standing for a debate.”

[harriedwritings]

    ( closed for @furiousredemption​ || furiosa & max )

It didn’t used to be often that he’d return somewhere with the express intent to return there. But then, it wasn’t often that he knew where to find the stragglers in whose plot he’d become involved.

There was something comforting, almost, to know that at least these ghosts were corporeal, to know that there was a pillar against the sky with green on top. There was something harrowing about it too, though, something niggling at him in the back of his mind and convincing him he was wrong, and he had to come back to prove that it had happened. Then there were the times when he returned out of necessity, to repair the car beyond what he’d managed to jury rig out on the flats, or the times when he learned something and it immediately became his number one priority to inform the citadel.

    This was none of those times.

Sometimes, when he was driving for hours at a time with no thought to where he was driving except away, it wasn’t until he registered the spires in the distance that he realised he wasn’t driving away at all. He was driving towards.

    This was one of those times.

Max went through the motions and signals and lifts and grunts and nods and greetings with all the enthusiasm of a damp paper towel. Nevertheless, motions and segues later, there he was, a few feet from Furiosa as he wordlessly withdrew the tattered fabric map from the depths of his jacket and pointed at its newest addition.

“-- Decaying settlement,” he said, his voice gravelly with disuse and general wasteland effects. “-- People moving out, foot and horses, probably coming here. Had to leave a lot behind.”

    The ‘it might be worth checking out’ was implied.

[deficd]

@furiousredemption whispered, ❛ for the first time in years, i felt something that i thought had been lost to me. ❜

He's been dead so long, nothingness slipped in between the cracks, leaving him as abstract as he is pulled apart. Sand would be better-- could make himself glass and shatter and shatter. Make himself the ghost they speak of in the canyons and where the cities once slept.

Instead, he's an echo. He reverberates in the marrow of Furiosa's bones; tried to slip away before he could seep out of the pores, but it's too late. For her, it's too late.

For him, it's never early enough.

"Freedom?" That's what the desert is, what it craves. Yet, he lingers at the Citadel, immoveable. Not for the flowing water.

Or something else? Or something else?

"Peace?"