driftfleet | Closed

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Who: Max and Furiosa (and Katie!)
Broadcast: n/a
Action: Saavy trials and fail
When: This weekend

[It didn't take much to convince Furiosa which faction she belonged in. Moxie was tempting, Spirit something of an enigma, but Savvy felt like her people. While there was something unsavory about having to rely on survival instead of living life up, it was deeply ingrained; instinctual and second nature. Not having to explain herself for her eccentricities of hoarding foodstuffs, hiding weapons, checking over her shoulder in an empty corridor.]

[Upon expressing interest in aligning with Savvy, she was immediately assigned her survival tasks, and as she's heading out to the wilderness to complete them, she runs into another Fleet member who, frankly, she would have been surprised not to see.]

Max, I imagined I'd find you here.

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[Max's faction is obvious to not only himself, but likely anyone who's met him for even a fraction of a moment. The guy's daily routine seems to be adjusting the odds of his survival, of being ready, of relying on his gut instinct (read: overwhelming paranoia) to get by. So. Obviously, he's here. He glances up from inventorying his pack before she even speaks, caution in his features.

Of course, they let up as always when he realizes it's Furiosa.

She says his name so simply, and it always catches him off guard.

But he recovers fastest about it when it's her, so.]

Mm... Obvious, I guess. Others didn't seem to really... fit.

No, I didn't really feel they did either.

[Moxie maybe, but she's been in that hyper-competitive world before; to be able to make the choice to not engage in it was rather nice. Hearing about Savvy, she figured it was just a matter of time before Max showed up. ]

I've got to find a specific rock that they use in fire-starting, it's a little ways out in the wilderness. Where are you headed? [If they've got similar pathways, it might help to double up. ~~Also she might not trust him alone considering his last couple excursions and penchant for falling into holes and lakes~~.]

Edited 2016-08-22 00:06 (UTC)

[He hums, looking pleasant. Relatively, for who he is, anyway.]

Wanted to scope the place out.

Had a rough time on, hn... the other planet. Figured avoiding people would be nicer.

[She nods. She knows it wasn't easy for him.]

No one's going to try and hold your hand, here. [A wry little smile.] If you want some quiet company, you're free to join me.

[Max considers her offer very intently; that's usually how he rolls, unable to do anything without that abundance of solemn consideration. But he looks far from anxious — he looks quite comfortable, really, because he's grown quite used to Furiosa's company. It's strange how things change; how easily, toward some people. Getting used to Furiosa took no time at all, worked seamlessly.

It helps that Max actually found a part of himself and became less of a wild thing, drowning in his own madness. You know. Small favors.]

You sure? Might fall into holes or lakes.

[She knew how to handle him, knew when to back off and when to headbutt some sense into him. Knew not to wake him suddenly. He could trust her not to do anything unnecessarily. She, in turn, knew she could trust him to help out in a pinch, knew he wouldn't pressure her for past details. They could share an easy silence, which was saying something.]

[She gives him a wry smile.

Or, I could keep you out of them.

[Max rolls his eyes, but the good humor is there in the crinkles of crow's feet. Alright, then, an adventure it is. Suit yourself, Furiosa - Max always appreciates the silent world, empty of people; much like home in a lot of cases, he supposes. He appreciates the expanse where people used to thrive back home. Isn't that kind of terrible? He guesses so.

He leads the way for her, tucked in his leather jacket and another on top for comfort, a new scarf tucked in under his chin. He didn't want to inform her of the sad fate of the scarf she'd given him -- used as a splint for FDR's leg. That bastard ruined his good scarf and vanished from the fleet.

Max won't admit he kind of misses him, in a rude, mean way.

Such is life.

Watch your step, Furiosa; it's gonna be a long week.]

[Furiosa couldn't have blamed him for what happened with the scarf, if she knew. Things of their world were so often short lived; it was hard to hold onto favorite items when everyone was fighting for scrap.]

[She falls into step behind him, matching his pace and enjoying the silence away from the fleet and the cities. Moxie people were particularly loud, and it's refreshing to get out into the wilderness.]

[That is, until their path takes them further up, into the cold and snow dusted edges. Furiosa had her coat from the first cold world she had visited here, but she hadn't spent much time outside then. Now, she's starting to find her prosthetic in particular is reacting poorly to the temperature change. After a trying moment, she finally gives up and calls for a stop in order to remove the offending scrap. Off comes her coat, and a couple upper layers, until she's down to her standard wastelander gear. She shivers in cold and agitation as she struggles with the metal arm - hydraulics frozen solid and metal edges sharp. She mutters at it, hissed curses under her breath until she cuts her hand while simultaneously failing to undo a simple buckle.]

DAMN IT, useless piece of scrap!

Edited 2016-09-05 06:01 (UTC)

[Max is just a small ways away - nearby a tree, adjusting his own supplies on his back; he'd been working on a simple job to move things from point a to point b as one of his usual jobs offered by the savvy people, because lord knows Max is always working if he's not traveling. Or both.

He looks over in surprise at the echoed yell, eyebrows raising.]

Hey, you shouldn't -

[Something far up above them trembles. Like displacing sand, Max knows.

He'd gotten used to the snow now since his fall into icy waters, but, uh.

That's new.]

[Furiosa looks over at Max, feeling the trembling about the same time she heard him. She pauses in her endeavors to remove the prosthetic, looking down at her feet and and then further up the mountain to where it's coming from. The rumbling starts to get more intense, there's a shift in the air, and then she can see the cloud of white barreling towards them.]

[She's never faced such a threat, and her instincts are all based on natural phenomenons surrounding sand, and she doesn't have time to prepare. She tries to brace herself against hte ground but it hits her with full force, pulling her off her feet, ripping through the last strap of the prosthetic, and carrying her off with it. She's disoriented, unaware of which way is up, grasping for anything to hold on to, unable to right herself or slow her advance on her own.]

[Eventually, the avalanche subsides and loses momentum. Fortunately for Furiosa, it wasn't a particularly large event and she was caught up near the edge of it; she comes to rest already head and shoulders above the surface. The rest of her is stuck fast, however. There are a couple moments while she gets her bearings, and then she pulls and digs her way out. Adrenaline is running high, and she stumbles off with little clue where she is or where she needs to get to. She's disoriented and, as the adrenaline wears off, realizing how very deep down to the core cold she is. She's never felt anything quite like it; it's different, and terrifying. As she stumbles along, arms tucked up against her sides and chest, shoulders hunched, she realizes with startling clarity she doesn't quite know how to survive in this environment; not to the extent she knew how to survive in a desert wasteland.]

Max? Max! [It's half whispered, because it's so cold; anything louder would mean pumping her chest out and cupping her hand around her mouth, but also because she doesn't want to trigger another avalanche.]

[Katie's search pattern is thus: she jumps. Waits, light-footed on the snow. Gets a face of fresh air. Then jumps again. Each time, she comes down in a different place. She's wearing the snow gear that Rogue bought her a while ago, bundled up for warmth, but her jacket is off and wrapped tightly around another jacket-- she's dampening the smells she gets from it. That's all.

So when she finally lands, inhales, and catches a fading trace of the scent she's trying to trace, she breaks out into a smile and begins running across the snow, far too light on her feet for a human-- she barely disturbs it at all. She can only do it while nobody is paying attention to her (it's one of those weird magic things) but it certainly means she can travel reasonably fast, following Furiosa's scent to hopefully its still living and not-buried (please not buried) source.

So in all this blinding white out here, Furiosa might eventually pick out a small blur of green and yellow and dark curls. Katie will know when she's been spotted, because her feet will sink right through the snow crust and she'll have to walk like a normal human from now on. Boo. But uh. Hi.

Apparently a small child has come to get you? Either that, or she's just as lost as you are.]

[Furiosa is not buried at this point, having pulled herself out and wandered for a bit before huddling up against a tree. It's hard to concentrate on anything, beyond fighting the growing urge to just try to sleep it out. She knew, instinctively, that that was a bad idea.]

[She blinks up the figure before her, her brain sluggish in formulating a reply, or even recognizing quite what was going on.]

Cheedo?

Edited 2016-09-07 03:08 (UTC)

[Katie blinks at the name, but she shrugs after a moment.] That's my name.

[She shakes her jacket out. It's far too small for Furiosa, but it was wrapped around Furiosa's discarded jacket, which falls into the woman's lap.] You probably should put that on out here. You don't want to catch a cold.

[Man, her head is shaved and everything and she looks so cool no pun intended-- but even Katie can spot when someone's kind of in the middle of freezing to death, so she shelves it, crouching down.]

You're a friend of Max, aren't you?

Edited 2016-09-07 03:45 (UTC)

[She frowns at the girl, who didn't sound like what she remembered Cheedo sounding like. Has it been so long, that she's beginning to forget?]

[Her coat tumbles into her lap, and she looks down at it for a moment, before moving stiffly to try and pull it on.]

Max. [She's thinking hard to keep up with the conversation. Max. Sand. But this isn't sand. There's a ship, though, a space ship, like the kind that told stories. She's never been this cold. The desert nights, those seemed tame now by comparison, and she remembered walking by the war rig, blanket around her shoulders, talking with Max.]

Max. Yes. He ... yes. [She looks up at the Not-Quite-Cheedo Cheedo.]

Is he ... alright?

He doesn't like cats. [Katie will help, if Furiosa needs it, because a person stiff with cold and with only one arm might have trouble. Didn't Max say she had a pros... a fake? It must've been lost. She might be able to find it, but Furiosa is more important.] Nobody can be all right if they don't like cats. And I think he has snow in his ears because he doesn't listen. I bet he's warmer than you are, though.

[She bites her lip, wondering how to do this.]

Can you walk? Or do you want to sleep? If you want to sleep, it's all right. You'll wake up again. Probably.

Max doesn't like anyone. [She starts to stand, but it's difficult; some parts of her body felt like they were on fire, and others she couldn't feel at all. Her hand goes out to the tree for balance.]

Walk. No sleep. [If she's standing, she can handle it, and while she's not exactly standing straight or easily, it's enough to get her started.]

[Max should start liking someone. She's pretty sure he likes Furiosa, anyway. Katie holds a hand up to Furiosa, a little like a child looking for guidance from a parent. Other way round, isn't it? Her hands are mittened and warm, so that might help.

She spent a lot of her energy finding Furiosa, so they'll walk at least a short way before she tries using any more. But maybe she can pull the glamour she needs from present company. So Katie talks as she moves, whether Furiosa took her hand or not, heading slowly in the right direction for Max.]

You should probably keep talking! I know when I get really cold it's easy to sleep, so you should make your brain stay awake.

[She's not too worried, though. Worst comes to worst, she'll yank the glamour right out of Furiosa. It'll make the woman faint, probably, but that's better than freezing to death. She'll try and do it much nicer way first.]

[She does take ~~Cheedo's~~ hand, trying not to lean into it too much. At the same time, her movements are stilted and slow. She does take the girl's advice, though; talking would certainly help. It had the added bonus of helping her come to terms with her current situation.]

[But while she is definitely more talkative than Max, it's not by much.]

What should, I talk about? [Maybe the fact that she's more and more certain this isn't actually Cheedo at her side.]

Ummm.... something you like! It'll help. Favourite place? What you wanted to be when you grew up? Favourite food? Favourite memory?

[She shrugs her own jacket on while she talks, letting go of Furiosa briefly to wriggle her arm through a sleeve.] How you met Max? Any of those.

Max. [He is a sort of grounding influence right now; somehow the snow makes more sense when she thinks of him. She's not at home. Neither is he. The lines get blurry after that.]

He tried to steal our rig. He tried ... no one steals my rig. No one drives my rig but me. [Talking is turning out harder than she had imagined. The words feel like thick syrup in her mouth; it's hard to push them out. She couldn't feel her face. When the girl frees hey hand for a moment, she reached up and rubs her face. It's still there. Nux drove her rig once. Nux was reliable.]

Nux tried to fly into the sun. [It's a departure from the story, but it made sense in her own train of thought, and more importantly, it's the first clear thought she'd had about being in the Fleet. Gears seem to finally click in place. She's so cold. She had stopped to take her jacket off for some reason. Max was adjusting his pack.]

Max, is he okay [Who was this child? She was definitely not Cheedo. More was coming back to Furiosa but the thoughts and memories were still disjunct and unconnected.]

[She can't help but giggle at the jump from Max and rigs to Nux flying into the sun. But then she asks about Max again, and uh... well, that's probably not a good sign, is it? Katie's brow furrows. Does she have time to do this the safer way?

She can't keep answering variations on whether Max is okay or not.]

I think he's okay. But he's still searching, and he's not very bright. Should we find him faster, do you think?

[Furiosa nods, but she's not sure if the motion is enough; her neck feels painfully stiff.]

Yes. He worries. He shouldn't. [~~He totally should in this case~~] let's find him ...

[The easy way? She wondered just what the easy way was.]

[She's inclined to disagree. Max can glare and mutter and haul Furiosa back and look after her and feed her chicken sou-- oh. Actually. Never mind her imagination.]

Are you the one that gave him the plant?

[...she's shrugging off her jacket again, kinda stretching up to tippytoes to throw it over Furiosa's head like a scarf. It's the only thing she can think of to help right now. You have no hair up there to protect you :c]

[The plant. She thinks of Asteffiel's gift to her when she first arrived; her own plant. She'd gotten one for Max eventually, too. Their own personal little green.]

[She falls to her knees into the snow, letting the girl adorn her with her coat without much thought.] There's no green here. It's all white.

My coat is green! [Okay, yes. Fast way it is. She whispers a brief apology to Tully, before her hands land gently on Furiosa's shoulders.]

Close your eyes, okay? You can pretend it's green behind your eyelids. Don't go to sleep. Just... count to ten. I'm going to do a magic trick and summon fire.

[Regardless of Furiosa's response, she hooks into the glamour that makes up Furiosa's being-- low, guttering like a fire going out, but sparking in odd ways as the mind wanders. And draws it into herself. If Furiosa was at her best, she'd never even notice. But for this? She's already tired. It's a sense of emptiness that'll pull her another step down toward comatose.

She needs the glamour, Furiosa, sorry. The fae frown on dragging it out of people wholesale, but when the alternative is not getting you somewhere safe, well. They'll probably forgive this.]

[Furiosa has been in the Fleet long enough not to question whether or not little girls can summon fire. She's still grasping for details but this seems reasonable. She closes her eyes and starts to count, thick, troublesome numbers, but she doesn't quite make it to ten before she feels the pull and loses herself to the darkness. Wherever the girl brings her, she's slumping forward and hovering on the edge of unconscious.]

Edited 2016-09-07 07:55 (UTC)

[Katie lets Furiosa slump down over her shoulder, staggering a little under the weight-- she's small. But her arms come up under Furiosa's, not quite long enough to do more than pat at her back in an attempt to be reassuring. She can't take proper hold, but it's enough.

She has enough glamour to make the distance now. She jumps. They leave the ground in a small puff of snow, and the air is even more bitterly cold up away from the ground, shearing into the wind. It's almost like flying, except for the fact they curve up into the sky and then down, crashing down into the snow not far from where she left Max.

It doesn't hurt at all, though.]

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