#maskedwarlord

[completely-nux]

maskedwarlord:  Panic seized Joe as a motor rumbled madly towards Him, fleshy palms slapping searchingly about his middle for a gun, any gun. No luck. As He was testingly balling His hands should the need for close combat arise, Nux appeared in His blurred vision. With that gauntness, the hollowed eyes, skeletal scars - The Immortan briefly thought Death had finally come to carry Him to Valhalla. Eyes refocusing, He was presented with an even more welcome sight - a War Boy. “War Boy,” was wheezed, but not without that ever-present commanding tone. Stretching his right hand up towards His maw, He thought better of it as the burned flesh on His shoulders was pulled. There was a hiss of pain. Perhaps a blessing - a War Boy had never gazed upon His unadorned face. An Imperator or two, his Wives, occasionally the Bullet Farmer, and attending War Pups, but that was it. A different path was chosen: a stubby but strong hand carefully wedged a duo of blunt fingers between the horse teeth, prying them open until the terrifying jaw was open in a silent - scream, howl? Divine blood seeped from a small incision on the pad of one finger, coating one of the protruding teeth in crimson. “What… is your name, My son?”

Blue eyes flit over the blood he sees. So much blood. Not an unusual sight for any war boy, but never had he -nor anyone he knew- seen a God bleed before. The rough voice stopped Nux from staring too long, jerking his attention back to what really mattered. Blue met grey as he looked the Immortan in the eyes when he -or rather, his position in whatever was left of society- was addressed to show Him that He had his attention. The eye contact only lasted for a split second as the driver quickly averted his eyes and offered the God the canteen of water. Slowly. As if something bad would happen if he moved too quickly. Surprised by the question that follows his eyes momentarily light up with something similar to pride. 

‘Nux. I’m Nux.’ he answers, perhaps a little too excitedly as the confirmation was completely unnecessary. There was no time to waste, though. Nux turns his head to his car and he squints in thought before looking back at the holiness before him. Forming the v8 sign with his hands and bowing his head in respects he voices his suggestion. 

‘With your blessing I could get the car closer to you and bring you someplace safe, Immortan.’ 

@maskedwarlord

[partyinvalhalla]

When you get this, respond with five things that make you happy. Then send it to the last ten people in your notification anonymously. *covers face for anonymity*

Um.

1. Hanging with friends and family

2. my dogs

3. Not dying today

4. The high probability that I’ll get into UGA

5. Metal of almost any subgenre

[bulletfarming]

Can I call you Daddo?

[bulletfarming]

KeeperofAntiseeds: Spill it + Would you let Joey handle your darlings, Sarah and Jane?

Not unless he wants his fuku-damn head blown off....or if it’s an emergency. I guess then. Hm. But only a serious one. And he’s gotta give ‘em back right after.

[bulletfarming]

Immortan Joe’s a lying arse who ignores people that put their work on hold to have a nice dinner with him just so he can yell at his War Boys. Or beat up on the Wretched. Or whatever the hell it is he does over at the Citadel. I’m morsing this out for everyone to see because it’s time you all knew.

[bulletfarming]

It’s three inches of disappointment.

[bulletfarming]

If Moore’s a natural blond, then I’m a fucking pacifist.

Don’t believe a damn thing that old liar tells ya.

[ivakir]

↖

↖ - The diary entry from the day our muse’s met.

It happened two years ago, but for some reason I wanted to remember this day today.

In those years I often hang out around the Citadel, sometimes trading or stealing.I remember, how all of a sudden, in the middle of the time, when I was able to sell some junk, everything froze, as if the sun and moon, merged in a passionate dance, fell to the ground.There was a silence, wich could cut the ears. Of course, I did not understand, what was happening, couldn’t understand, why everyone stopped and began to look at the rocks, that were called the Citadel.

Reader, I should make an explanation here: I am not from here. I came from a distant place, inhabited by nomads and traders. I’m not going to mention the coordinates, as my diary can get to the evil hands.

So, as I said before, there was a deafening silence. All spellbound, people looked at one point. So I decided to follow them because, I was lead  by mere curiosity rather than servility, which was in their eyes.

Then I saw him.

The  tyrant, whose name I have heard repeatedly, when I came to these lands.People watched him, as if they were in some kind of trance and hypnosis. They greedely ate those words, whuch he put in them, as if they were pieces of bread. I guess, if I was completely drowned in despair, I would be like them. But no. You can’t cheat me. I know all the magic of words, that he used. And for the desperate people his words were like water.

Something happened or should have happened. The crowd began to stir, and they come closer to the pipes.And then something happened. There was a noise, the crowd cheered and quickly moved forward.

Tyrant just released water from his source.How deftly he led them, saying that they should not succumb to the temptation. But all these people … they were just miserable, who needed hope.And they fought with each other for the water.

Their God, their lord, the king, the tyrant was obviously pleased with what was happening.He is their God, they were blinded by his poisonous words.They, but, fortunately, not me.