wordburger | MAD MAX SANDBOX POST

[Nux doesn't feel sick anymore, but his gut still gives a wrench at that.]

I... lived. I lived long enough to see--

[She had pushed him from the rig and he had lived. She had fallen from the same rig -- out of the same door, even, he thinks -- and been crushed by his blood bag at the wheel. It hadn't been anything like glorious, he'd thought even then. It had been brutal and ugly and senseless. He looks down.]

I lived long enough to try to help.

[He doesn't know, now, if there was much glory even in his death, but he knows he at least died for something better. That doesn't help as much as he would have thought it would.]

(angharad doesn't answer for a long moment. she hadn't thrown him from the rig in order to kill him; rather to save him, from both furiosa's anger, and hers. because angharad knows the immortan and his legions of young soldiers. the war boys fighting (dying) for him fight for a lost cause: he won't ever care for them. he won't carry a single one of them to the gates of their precious valhalla. it's why she had been so insistent upon saving them. they didn't understand. not really. they were only mindless pups, following the order of the hand that fed them treats.

looking at him now, angharad isn't sure how the war boy before her factors into this.)

To try to help? (she echoes, confused, and then realization hits so suddenly her expression blows wide open, mouth hitching in a startled smile.)

The Green Place. The Green Place of Many Mothers. They made it?

Edited 2015-06-15 03:48 (UTC)

[He glances up at her face, then immediately away again as he sees the hopeful glee spreading across it. The shake of his head is quick and contained, as though it might cushion the blow if he keeps the movement small. As though he feel smaller for being the one to tell her the truth.]

There is no Green Place anymore. It went sour.

(angharad squints, brows knitting together in confusion and then her expression crumples, but briefly, only ever briefly. she'll never be used to hearing bad news, but she is used to pretending she isn't rattled by it.)

Oh, (she says simply, after a long, silent moment. clenches her hands against the open air. the green place, hope for them, home for furiosa: sour, gone. why?)

What, (she tries, has to start again after a careful swallow. the words hurt in her throat.) What happened? Where did they go? Do you know?

We were...

[Oh, but this will be hard to explain without giving her the wrong idea. He hesitates, looking around himself a little helplessly, as if all the green will give him an idea of what to say.

Surprisingly enough, it does. He looks back at her, nervous, but tentatively hopeful.]

There's green on top of the Citadel -- the others said so. We were going back through the pass, Imperator Furiosa and the other Wives and the Many Mothers, and my blood bag and me. And we-- they-- we killed Immortan Joe.

[That still doesn't feel real. Even saying it aloud, it doesn't feel possible. Now it's his turn to swallow back a lump in his throat, and it's neither Larry nor Barry this time.]

(she stares at him for a long, even moment, desperately trying to process this information. eventually she turns back and rests her chin on her knees again, staring at the grass as it sways in the breeze. the immortan is dead.

she can see furiosa's plan laid out neatly before her now, knowing that. he had taken his entire war party out to chase them across the sand, leaving the citadel unattended. she hiccups on a breath, and presses her cheek into her knees, squeezing her eyes shut tight. the relief is unbearable. there's something else there too, something twisted and scared, a small part of her that thinks he'll be the next to show up.

when she gets a grip on herself again she stands, unable to help marveling at how easy it is to stand now that she isn't carrying the extra weight of a child with her.)

You helped them? (she asks, coming to stand opposite the war boy, drawing herself up tall before him.)

[He watches her grapple with it, feeling lost and unsure. This place is her place; he doesn't understand it, and he doesn't know if he understands what looks like grief or fear or both to him.

Well, no. He understands it perfectly well, if that is what it is. He just doesn't understand why it's hers. Isn't she happy? Hadn't she hated him? Or does she feel just as confused as Nux without him, even so?]

I tried.

[That's another kind of grief. He wishes he knew what happened next. What had happened to Capable... He swallows.]

I drove the rig into the canyon pass. To bring the rocks down -- block the pursuit coming back.

Oh.

(it's all that angharad can think to say. she doesn't feel badly about facing him harshly, before– she hadn't understood, then, and how could she have known what he did? she feels badly for him now, instead. she isn't sure how she is supposed to react.

her mind is still reeling from the amount of information he's threaded her.)

... Thank you. (gratitude is always a good start. she startles herself with how sincere she sounds when she says it, but if he sacrificed himself to aid in their escape, why shouldn't it be so? she had been prepared to do the same. she's touched to know she isn't alone in that respect.)

[He doesn't blame her for it, though it does make him a little awkward around her now. If she were Capable, Furiosa, he might know how to take the thank you. With Angharad... He's just as unsure as she is, if not moreso, and all he can think to do is give her an uncomfortable nod.

Like her, he's still dressed the same, right down to the mismatched boots. He hitches his thumbs in his belt and hunches a little, ducking his head as he glances around.]

What is this place?

(she takes her time with answering, slow turning in place on the spot to take in the green, and the trees.)

I don't know, (she admits eventually, fingernails pressing gentle into her palms. something old and half-forgotten bubbles to the surface as she thinks, something she thinks miss giddy must have mentioned to her a long time ago.)

Maybe this is Heaven.

Heaven.

[He echoes it without any real understanding. Then he thinks of the Dag, though, praying to anyone who would listen, and he wonders if someone heard.]

Wonder why.

[Why this place. Why them, and not any of the others who'd died.]

Mmm.

(maybe it is only a stop on the way to something else.

still, she's glad she got to see it. she loves the trees, how the steady breeze makes the leaves rustle gently above them. it's hot, but not so much that sweat sticks to the back of her knees and under her arms.)

Whatever it is, I wouldn't mind staying.

MAD MAX SANDBOX POST

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whoops, thought it ate my comment so i rewrote it. ignore that first one!

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