driftfleet | Video // Open, Ship wide, encrypted

Entry tags:

Video // Open, Ship wide, encrypted

Who: Furiosa and YOU, Furiosa and First Breath, Furiosa and Tyrion Lannister
Broadcast: Video
Action: First Breath
When: Today

Fleetwide Video

[A lot has gone on lately, many different conversations that in some form or another had Furiosa thinking about home. Even her experience ~~headbutting~~ helping Max took her back, and while she has been in the Fleet for some time now, the curiosity about the fate of those they left behind hasn't lessened. It's been unsaid, and she tries not to worry herself about it since there's nothing she can do, but she wonders. How would everyone fare? Who would take up in her stead? The Wives? The remaining Vuvalini? The past week has made it hard to forget about, so maybe if she indulges in dwelling in it]

[She opens a video, looking slightly worn after the debacle with Max's tooth and her own lingering concerns about home, but otherwise she seems to be doing well.]

Does anyone else wonder about the state of the homes we were pulled from? Anyone ... else ... feel like they're missing out on responsibilities?

First Breath

Mandatory target practice for those who received guns.

Encrypted to Tyrion Lannister

So. You've been busy.

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[He quirks an eyebrow.]

S'what I was thinking.

Could be useful for, um. Planets with bad terrain.

[Yeah not talking about where it hurts. Because everything hurts. Because that's life on a poisoned planet.]

Do you have any ideas for how to get one?

[Hnn.]

Could work for it. Offer our skills, receive one as a payment. Don't think they'll cost us more than that... wouldn't hurt to get on the -- people's, good side here.

Mm. True, we take a bigger job we'll get a bigger payout. [She drops her clean shirt in her lap and reaches up to rub at her temples. The nausea is persistent, but low enough she can ignore it, but she's got a headache ramping up on the back end of a growing fever as her augment works to help burn off the toxins.] You hear of anything comparable?

[He shrugs, hands motioning.]

Been working on jeeps for a small shop. Could ask them.

[... You alright, Furiosa? You should lay down, missy.]

[She's fine, she's fine. ~~She's not.~~ She stands again and puts her back towards Max as she changes. There were times it still felt like a luxury - oddity, almost - to be able to change into clean clothes. Even showering on a regular basis was a new concept, but not one she overused. It was an odd feeling to be clean like that, like how they'd arrived, and there was something comforting about a thin layer of grime.]

[She tosses her old shirt into the hamper and leans against the desk for a moment. SHe makes a mental note not to venture out again until she's over ... whatever this is ... and then allows herself to sink back into the chair.]

Good. Jeeps are good. What's their towing capability?

Edited 2016-04-02 13:28 (UTC)

[Max turns his head to not stare at her changing, just a small kindness in a world where being shy isn't really a luxury for people like them. He's still grimy himself, cleaner than home but by no means a fresh slate -- hard for them to adjust completely like that.]

Good enough. Probably a ton.

[... He raises a brow at her, but still -- no comment.]

[~~She likes big rigs and she cannot lie.~~ She nods, thinking. Max may be thinking about irregular terrain, but Furiosa's mind is on towing goods to and from the ship. It could give the First Breath a cutting edge.]

I think that'll work. [She reaches up to rub the back of her neck, massaging over the brand and the augment - the area around which is slightly hot to the touch. She's beginning to wonder about her decision to wander around maskless.] Have you had any problems on the surface?

Edited 2016-04-03 15:23 (UTC)

[He blinks owlishly.]

Problems?

[pretty broad word there furiosa

he can find 45984350 problems with something]

Without the masks. Have you felt different? Odd?

[She doesn't know if it's because she's acknowledging it now, becoming more aware of the scope of her symptoms, or if it's just the natural progression of the illness, but the longer they go she's starting to feel more and more off from the effects of the poisoned air. So far she's resisting as much as she can. She stands and starts to pull the girdle back on. As long as she's still able to stand, she's still able to work.]

[Ah. A realization with the question strikes him, and he wrinkles his nose.]

You feel sick, don't you.

[She winces slightly. Even if she wasn't as stubborn as Max, she still didn't like being incapacitated, and admitting she might be on her way to it left a sour taste in her mouth.]

I feel ... off.

[She finishes cinching her girdle and takes a few moments to breathe.] Do you?

Edited 2016-04-08 05:50 (UTC)

[....................]

Mmhmmm... so you're getting sick.

[He knows better than that, Furiosa, don't be like that.]

I was. Got real sick for a day.

I guess I must be. [The symptoms were persistent, and growing in a such a sublte innocuous way that she wasn't really aware she'd gotten to this point already until she took the moment to sit down and relax. She reaches up to rub her temples.]

How did you deal with it?

[At this pointshe's a little more breathless, a little more pale, yet still hanging onto the belief that it's not bad enough to warrant any great concern.]

[And he watches even still, though he takes note of the obvious decline.]

By complaining under my breath and sleeping it off.

You should be resting.

[She looks at him, then looks at her hands, picking at her prosthetic. She's not used to being incapacitated and this twice now since she's arrived.]

Maybe you're right. [It's not an easy thing to admit. She starts planning, maybe she'll go back to the bridge and curl up in her chair, like she's done before. She stands with that intent, but the motion is careless and two fast for how things have progressed; there's a rush in her skull and for a moment she very nearly blacks out. She catches herself on the wall, cursing under her breath. So far so good, right Max?]

[He frowns, then rises up with a grunt to his feet. He motions to the bed, a no-nonsense way about him, much like the Max she'd seen when he explained to go on without him in the bogs. The one who was sure of himself, sturdy and capable, giving orders like it was an atrophied limb being brought back to life. When she seems like she may crumple again, he puts his hand on the inner part of her arm, as he'd done when they were on the Gigahorse, driving onto the lift up to the towering rock above.]

Lay down. Rest.

I'll bring you medicine. It'll help.

[But he won't go until you sit down, okay. More gently:]

Don't need to be tough about it around some fool like me.

[There is a small, slight hesitance, but it's short lived. She recognizes now she'd probably never make it to the bridge in one piece, and it wouldn't really do for a crewmate to find their captain passed out in the hallway, would it?]

[But even though the circumstances are less than idea, it's good to see this part of Max resurface. She trusts it. She trusts him, more over than any one else in this fleet, but in general. She lets him usher her to the bed and she pulls herself onto it. It's been a while since she's used it, spending so much time on the bridge, but it does have its own strange comforts. Even as she starts to lay down she can feel her body trying to give in to sleep, but she struggles against it for a few more moments.]

Katniss - first mate. Put her in charge. My orders. [That's why they'd had that talk. She didn't know if it was quite official yet but they had at least put the contingency in place when she was sick before on the ice planet.]

[He hums at her orders (a "yes", as far as he's concerned), draping a blanket over her legs for her to do with as she pleases. But he recalls Peggy's anxiety and it makes him more cautious to keep his distance from the bed; though it's not something he addresses aloud, he'd been a little freaked out at his actions being taken in any way but neutrally concerned back then. So. He'll try to keep an obvious space. Respect the space. Furiosa didn't have any wits about her to object to his closeness in the gigahorse, anyway. And circumstances were different.

He vanishes and comes back with a glass of water and the pills to help dull the headache and nausea. Content with as much, he moves to sink down at the side of the bed, arm splayed on the top of one knee.]

Sleep.

[It's unspoken: don't feel concerned about any intruders; he'll keep an eye out for you.]

[Furiosa trusts Max, there's no flinch or negative reaction when he drapes the blanket over her, although she does take it and pull it up to tuck around her shoulders. She's feeling chilled and flushed all at once and wants to just sweat it out. She nods off while he's out, needing to be prodded awake when he returns with the medicine, but she'll take it without complaint. Once that's over, she hunkers back down within the blanket and allows herself to follow his suggestion to sleep.]

[Knowing he's there keeping watch means it's a deep and restorative slumber. She trusts him to have her back.]

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Video // Open, Ship wide, encrypted

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