Iliana
New Member
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Priya
kyber child
"My name is Max. My world is fire and blood.
Once, I was a cop. A road warrior searching for a righteous cause. As the world fell, each of us in our own way was broken. It was hard to know who was more crazy... me... or everyone else."
Max had to hand it to those War Boys; the Interceptor was nothing to sneeze at for a long time after they had taken it from him and modified it in their garage. But the old girl wasn't the automobile she used to be, and nowadays she could barely cough and limp along in the sand. The engine whined at the slightest effort; the brakes would squeal with pain when applied.
So when the road warrior drew nearer to the edges of the Citadel's territory, Interceptor in tow, his outlook was one of pity and embarrassment rather than the prideful and heroic return he had been envisioning in the poisoned imagination of his mind. At least he knew of a few black thumbs who might be around to fix it up for him. And of course, there was Furiosa, and the Wives. Max hadn't paid the Citadel a visit since he had helped the women claim it for their own.
Getting closer to the towering gardens and rocks of the Citadel, Max noticed something felt off. There were people outside, looking more or less clean and well-fed, cheerily interacting and exchanging goods with each other. Max recognized them as the Wretched, the impoverished people who lived under Joe's rule. They didn't seem very wretched anymore. Most of them had all four of their limbs, even, and we're greeting strangers near the entrance of the district.
As Max coaxed the dying vehicle closer to the gates, a shock of messy red hair floated in a gate tower above him. It was Capable, round-faced and fair, still wearing the goggles she had been given (had taken from?) by the War Boy called Nux. The redhead smiled from several meters above the ground, and gave Max a hearty salute before scrambling down the watch tower and careening off to hopefully notify Furiosa of Max's return.
The gates opened, allowing Max to will his forlorn vehicle inside. Will was the right word for it; at this point, the thing was running off Max's sheer willpower. Inside the lush expanse of the Citadel, Max was greeted by an uplifting sight. Farmers milled about, working happily, while healthy-looking children ran about amongst the green. The War Boys no longer wore toxic white paint and black grease, and some had scars on their necks and shoulders where Max could only assume tumors had been removed. Everybody looked surprisingly well-fed and nurtured.
Max was ushered in by a gaggle of War Boys, ones that must've remembered his face from the day he and the women had returned to the Citadel with Joe's corpse as a hood ornament. There was no sign of Capable. She had probably gone looking for Furiosa and the Wives and hadn't returned yet. A few of the older War Boys had congregated around the Interceptor, were touching the dented hood and peering at the front-mounted engine. It all proved too much for the old girl, and she gave one final cough and wouldn't move a centimeter more.
Max kicked the door open and eased himself out, wincing at the pain in his knee. His brace could use a good deal of maintenance as well as the car, but that was for him to worry about. As the rough, road-worn man turned around, expecting to meet Furiosa, he was shocked to see who had arrived instead.
Was this another hallucination?
Once, I was a cop. A road warrior searching for a righteous cause. As the world fell, each of us in our own way was broken. It was hard to know who was more crazy... me... or everyone else."
Max had to hand it to those War Boys; the Interceptor was nothing to sneeze at for a long time after they had taken it from him and modified it in their garage. But the old girl wasn't the automobile she used to be, and nowadays she could barely cough and limp along in the sand. The engine whined at the slightest effort; the brakes would squeal with pain when applied.
So when the road warrior drew nearer to the edges of the Citadel's territory, Interceptor in tow, his outlook was one of pity and embarrassment rather than the prideful and heroic return he had been envisioning in the poisoned imagination of his mind. At least he knew of a few black thumbs who might be around to fix it up for him. And of course, there was Furiosa, and the Wives. Max hadn't paid the Citadel a visit since he had helped the women claim it for their own.
Getting closer to the towering gardens and rocks of the Citadel, Max noticed something felt off. There were people outside, looking more or less clean and well-fed, cheerily interacting and exchanging goods with each other. Max recognized them as the Wretched, the impoverished people who lived under Joe's rule. They didn't seem very wretched anymore. Most of them had all four of their limbs, even, and we're greeting strangers near the entrance of the district.
As Max coaxed the dying vehicle closer to the gates, a shock of messy red hair floated in a gate tower above him. It was Capable, round-faced and fair, still wearing the goggles she had been given (had taken from?) by the War Boy called Nux. The redhead smiled from several meters above the ground, and gave Max a hearty salute before scrambling down the watch tower and careening off to hopefully notify Furiosa of Max's return.
The gates opened, allowing Max to will his forlorn vehicle inside. Will was the right word for it; at this point, the thing was running off Max's sheer willpower. Inside the lush expanse of the Citadel, Max was greeted by an uplifting sight. Farmers milled about, working happily, while healthy-looking children ran about amongst the green. The War Boys no longer wore toxic white paint and black grease, and some had scars on their necks and shoulders where Max could only assume tumors had been removed. Everybody looked surprisingly well-fed and nurtured.
Max was ushered in by a gaggle of War Boys, ones that must've remembered his face from the day he and the women had returned to the Citadel with Joe's corpse as a hood ornament. There was no sign of Capable. She had probably gone looking for Furiosa and the Wives and hadn't returned yet. A few of the older War Boys had congregated around the Interceptor, were touching the dented hood and peering at the front-mounted engine. It all proved too much for the old girl, and she gave one final cough and wouldn't move a centimeter more.
Max kicked the door open and eased himself out, wincing at the pain in his knee. His brace could use a good deal of maintenance as well as the car, but that was for him to worry about. As the rough, road-worn man turned around, expecting to meet Furiosa, he was shocked to see who had arrived instead.
Was this another hallucination?
Iliana
New Member
In a large cave bedroom where a pile of large pillows of different fabrics, made by the fellow citizens, was the beautifully messy blonde bedhead of Angharad and in her new attire of long, draping ivory cloths there were "blessed", per say, by special herbs from newly-organized local shamans. Her room was relatively decorated with petty gemstones with unusual, putrid colors and leaves from the outskirts of Citadel where she and Cheedo loved to walk. They would often talk on philosophical matters as to how the world was murdered and Cheedo, an admirer of Splendid, asking many questions about love and how to appreciate her womanhood. The questions on the latter would sometimes get overwhelming as she had many traumas instigated by none other than Immortan Joe himself of times that he would abuse of her but she knew it was never love. However, Angharad would always answer as to her optimistically on what she imagine to be love much to Cheedo's happiness.
She shifted around her bed with an anxious expression to her soft face, rubbing her temples against the pillows as her regular pulsating pain on them began. She always had them when her traumas of her life before the Escape and Rebellion.
Her mind was lingering on the disturbing reminder of the large, stainless steel vault door where she was forced into and grew up. Of the times when she was there alone before she met the other Wives... and after, when they weren't present. Of when she discovered she was pregnant. The sight of blood from her miscarriage feeling more relief than joy. She had already imagined it was going to be a boy. She was dead-set on it. He was to become a War Boy and essentially, be one of Immortan's right-hands, and spit on his own mother. There was a time that Splendid had struggled incredulously with her current lifestyle of being a Wife. She worked harder to keep the rest of the young ladies together while she kept everything bottled up until Furiosa confronted her. It was something she would chuckle about because she had thought Furiosa was a beautiful man behind the goggles, mask, and loose attire she was in. She stopped her from acting upon harming herself and that was something that she still had to owe her for, no matter how much Furiosa waved it off, reminding her that if it had not been for Splendid, the rest of the young Wives would have not followed her dangerously and as orchestrated into the War Rig.
As the pain began to lessen from the gradual shift of memories, a grin came across her lips, admitting to herself that the Rebellious Escape was more exciting and liberating than to finally be at the Green Place. Although, she didn't imagine that a strange man, which happened to be the beloved Road Warrior, to come along on a truck of women but his demeanor made everyone secured and assured that he was refreshingly incomparable to the men they knew back home who always looked forward to taking advantage of others. After declaring Immortan Joe dead at the end of it all, shortly thereafter, Toast admitted to her that she was sure Max had admired her will and spirit for having helped out of all of them to which she replied with a humble smile.
"Splendid..." a soft, cheery whisper from a young woman called.
It couldn't be Cheedo since she liked to sleep throughout the entire day with The Dag so it was surely Capable, always up and energized like the scorching sun for which her hair color perfectly suited.
"Angharad, come on," she cooed.
Her eyelids lazily opened as she blinked at Capable, greeting her with a half hug as Capable helped her to sit up.
"I know that you told me not to wake you up like this anymore unless it was really important and... it is," she grinned. "He's here... Max," she hinted.
The two walked down the hardened sandy steps until it lead to the mouth of the open field of the marketplace where Capable gave her a nod to the direction where Max was but it was not needed as his trademark attire and his treasured jacket was stood out from the rest of the crowd. It was what she had been used to seeing for a week that felt like a happy lifetime with just her and the others. As she sauntered to him with Capable loyally following behind but leaving some space, she stood in front of the pensive Max who was mumbling nothings about his car until his attention was finally concentrated on her. She let out a heartily laugh as she came up to him to embrace him tightly, releasing him to take in the details of his face.
"Max," she happily sighed. "Welcome home. It has been a very long time and you look more rusted than the last time we saw you, right, Capable? What brings you here? This is a very interesting car," she commented as she tilted her head with curiosity. "Anyways, you probably came a long ways to see Furiosa but unfortunately, she left half a week ago with a few other Mothers. I think they might be looking for more territory but that's just between you and me, okay? She trusted me with this and I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I told you. Goodness, it's really good to see you. You look worn," she gestured back to the mouth of the cave where she, Furiosa, and a few other Mothers from the Green Place slept.
She shifted around her bed with an anxious expression to her soft face, rubbing her temples against the pillows as her regular pulsating pain on them began. She always had them when her traumas of her life before the Escape and Rebellion.
Her mind was lingering on the disturbing reminder of the large, stainless steel vault door where she was forced into and grew up. Of the times when she was there alone before she met the other Wives... and after, when they weren't present. Of when she discovered she was pregnant. The sight of blood from her miscarriage feeling more relief than joy. She had already imagined it was going to be a boy. She was dead-set on it. He was to become a War Boy and essentially, be one of Immortan's right-hands, and spit on his own mother. There was a time that Splendid had struggled incredulously with her current lifestyle of being a Wife. She worked harder to keep the rest of the young ladies together while she kept everything bottled up until Furiosa confronted her. It was something she would chuckle about because she had thought Furiosa was a beautiful man behind the goggles, mask, and loose attire she was in. She stopped her from acting upon harming herself and that was something that she still had to owe her for, no matter how much Furiosa waved it off, reminding her that if it had not been for Splendid, the rest of the young Wives would have not followed her dangerously and as orchestrated into the War Rig.
As the pain began to lessen from the gradual shift of memories, a grin came across her lips, admitting to herself that the Rebellious Escape was more exciting and liberating than to finally be at the Green Place. Although, she didn't imagine that a strange man, which happened to be the beloved Road Warrior, to come along on a truck of women but his demeanor made everyone secured and assured that he was refreshingly incomparable to the men they knew back home who always looked forward to taking advantage of others. After declaring Immortan Joe dead at the end of it all, shortly thereafter, Toast admitted to her that she was sure Max had admired her will and spirit for having helped out of all of them to which she replied with a humble smile.
"Splendid..." a soft, cheery whisper from a young woman called.
It couldn't be Cheedo since she liked to sleep throughout the entire day with The Dag so it was surely Capable, always up and energized like the scorching sun for which her hair color perfectly suited.
"Angharad, come on," she cooed.
Her eyelids lazily opened as she blinked at Capable, greeting her with a half hug as Capable helped her to sit up.
"I know that you told me not to wake you up like this anymore unless it was really important and... it is," she grinned. "He's here... Max," she hinted.
The two walked down the hardened sandy steps until it lead to the mouth of the open field of the marketplace where Capable gave her a nod to the direction where Max was but it was not needed as his trademark attire and his treasured jacket was stood out from the rest of the crowd. It was what she had been used to seeing for a week that felt like a happy lifetime with just her and the others. As she sauntered to him with Capable loyally following behind but leaving some space, she stood in front of the pensive Max who was mumbling nothings about his car until his attention was finally concentrated on her. She let out a heartily laugh as she came up to him to embrace him tightly, releasing him to take in the details of his face.
"Max," she happily sighed. "Welcome home. It has been a very long time and you look more rusted than the last time we saw you, right, Capable? What brings you here? This is a very interesting car," she commented as she tilted her head with curiosity. "Anyways, you probably came a long ways to see Furiosa but unfortunately, she left half a week ago with a few other Mothers. I think they might be looking for more territory but that's just between you and me, okay? She trusted me with this and I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I told you. Goodness, it's really good to see you. You look worn," she gestured back to the mouth of the cave where she, Furiosa, and a few other Mothers from the Green Place slept.
Priya
kyber child
Max received Angharad's affection stiffly, unsure of what to do with his hands. He ended up wrapping one arm awkward around her shoulder after getting over the initial shock of her embrace.
"...Angharad," he greeted in a rocky voice, rough from almost a hundred days of disuse. The tall woman was easily his own height, if not higher, as Max bore a limp from his bad knee and a perpetual shoulder-hunch from years of battling the elements. Angharad's posture was impeccable. Her soft blonde hair fell over her shoulders, brushing Max's face and neck. She was so clean and unmarked, in stark contrast to Max's scraggly beard and numerous scars and the caked layer of dust and blood on his skin. He almost felt bad touching her, like he could somehow stain her with his uncleanliness.
Although he was really hoping to see Furiosa, Max felt a sense of uplift to see Capable and Angharad in such good spirits. He hoped he could see Toast and The Dag and Cheedo as well before he left. Their purity and sense of hope was a refreshing change from the bleak, vicious landscape of the wasteland. Even though Furiosa's absence had made him want to turn and leave again, he found himself wanting to stay with them. He couldn't leave anyway; a few War Boys had rolled his car off and it wouldn't run whether that had let it alone or not. Like it or not, Max was stuck at the Citadel for at least a day or two.
Perhaps he could find a brief period of peace here, Furiosa or no Furiosa. He trusted that Angharad and her girls could take care of themselves in a place like this, and he could certainly find a place to crash and wash up while he was stuck here. Max hadn't had anything to eat other than lizards and insects for at least a couple months; it was probably time for some actual nutrition.
Max nodded at Capable, who smiled at him in return.
"It has been...quite a long time," the road warrior said in response to Angharad's rapid narration. She seemed so genuinely pleased to see him; it was a strange reaction he was no longer used to receiving. "My car," he said, looking back at where the black thumbs were rolling it away, "I needed someplace to go." And he had nobody else he could trust not to brand him and cage him like a feral dog. But that was slightly beside the point.
"You look well," Max added, in a stiff attempt to be friendly. It had been so long; he hardly remembered how. "This place is...it's changed a lot."
"...Angharad," he greeted in a rocky voice, rough from almost a hundred days of disuse. The tall woman was easily his own height, if not higher, as Max bore a limp from his bad knee and a perpetual shoulder-hunch from years of battling the elements. Angharad's posture was impeccable. Her soft blonde hair fell over her shoulders, brushing Max's face and neck. She was so clean and unmarked, in stark contrast to Max's scraggly beard and numerous scars and the caked layer of dust and blood on his skin. He almost felt bad touching her, like he could somehow stain her with his uncleanliness.
Although he was really hoping to see Furiosa, Max felt a sense of uplift to see Capable and Angharad in such good spirits. He hoped he could see Toast and The Dag and Cheedo as well before he left. Their purity and sense of hope was a refreshing change from the bleak, vicious landscape of the wasteland. Even though Furiosa's absence had made him want to turn and leave again, he found himself wanting to stay with them. He couldn't leave anyway; a few War Boys had rolled his car off and it wouldn't run whether that had let it alone or not. Like it or not, Max was stuck at the Citadel for at least a day or two.
Perhaps he could find a brief period of peace here, Furiosa or no Furiosa. He trusted that Angharad and her girls could take care of themselves in a place like this, and he could certainly find a place to crash and wash up while he was stuck here. Max hadn't had anything to eat other than lizards and insects for at least a couple months; it was probably time for some actual nutrition.
Max nodded at Capable, who smiled at him in return.
"It has been...quite a long time," the road warrior said in response to Angharad's rapid narration. She seemed so genuinely pleased to see him; it was a strange reaction he was no longer used to receiving. "My car," he said, looking back at where the black thumbs were rolling it away, "I needed someplace to go." And he had nobody else he could trust not to brand him and cage him like a feral dog. But that was slightly beside the point.
"You look well," Max added, in a stiff attempt to be friendly. It had been so long; he hardly remembered how. "This place is...it's changed a lot."
Iliana
New Member
"It truly has," she nodded to Capable as she rushed over to Max's side grabbing his arm to wrap around her as Angharad did the same. "Don't worry about your knee, we'll take care of it. As for your car," she chuckled. "The War Boys here have truly dedicated their time repairing and upgrading vehicles. Furiosa allows them to. I told her that I was worried they were going to start a little, rag-tag revolution but surprisingly, they didn't. I guess they fear her that much," she laughed. "They really admire her."
"Not to mention the fact that I watch over them too," Capable winked.
"That's right, I'm sure the other Wives will be as happy to see you as we are. However, you're more than welcome to stay here with us, Max. Even though you look worn, you looked good yourself and I'm glad. I wouldn't be able to survive out there alone so I don't know how you do it."
Once they reached the top of the stairs to their bunker, the girls carefully released him as they sat him on a chair with a table beside of cards, rocks, and threads.
"Cape," she called out as she looked up from serving Max a mug of water, "Can you bring in the doctors? It'd also be good if you let the other girls know that he's here."
She gave a salute with the snap of her goggles and rushed down the steps.
"This place has really changed a lot, for the better. The cave of we're in now leads to the water apparatus. Furiosa and I came together on working on a schedule for opening it so everyone had a chance of taking showers, collecting enough water, until everyone was satisfied. We preserve it a lot but nowhere near how Immortan Joe managed," she visibly cringed at the mention of his name as she handed the glass to Max, sitting on the other chair that was beside him.
"I think that's a good introduction of what's going on here, you're more than welcome to roam around Citadel."
There was a comfortable silence.
"How have you been, Max? What was it like out there?"
"Not to mention the fact that I watch over them too," Capable winked.
"That's right, I'm sure the other Wives will be as happy to see you as we are. However, you're more than welcome to stay here with us, Max. Even though you look worn, you looked good yourself and I'm glad. I wouldn't be able to survive out there alone so I don't know how you do it."
Once they reached the top of the stairs to their bunker, the girls carefully released him as they sat him on a chair with a table beside of cards, rocks, and threads.
"Cape," she called out as she looked up from serving Max a mug of water, "Can you bring in the doctors? It'd also be good if you let the other girls know that he's here."
She gave a salute with the snap of her goggles and rushed down the steps.
"This place has really changed a lot, for the better. The cave of we're in now leads to the water apparatus. Furiosa and I came together on working on a schedule for opening it so everyone had a chance of taking showers, collecting enough water, until everyone was satisfied. We preserve it a lot but nowhere near how Immortan Joe managed," she visibly cringed at the mention of his name as she handed the glass to Max, sitting on the other chair that was beside him.
"I think that's a good introduction of what's going on here, you're more than welcome to roam around Citadel."
There was a comfortable silence.
"How have you been, Max? What was it like out there?"
Priya
kyber child
Max was tempted to resist the aid of Capable and Angharad, but he was grateful for the help for the sake of his knee brace; the thing was locking up and coming apart at the joints, and certainly wasn't doing its job. So the road warrior (uncomfortably) allowed himself to be helped up the stairs and sat in a chair.
Angharad handed him a mug of water, which he downed in a flash. He watched her face carefully as she spoke, curling his lip up unpleasantly when she forced herself to say Joe's name.
When Angharad asked Max how he was, he hadn't the faintest idea how to respond. He was awful, same as always; constantly in pain from this injury or that, sick half the time, and hallucinating the other half. When he wasn't awake there were nightmares; and when he was, he was living the nightmare. It was hell, just the same as it was for every other soul out there on the sand.
But Max couldn't tell the Splendid Angharad all that. Of course, the woman was tough; there was no doubt about that. But Max couldn't help but feel that speaking the truth would only make her sad for him, which he couldn't have. Pity from any of the Wives was not what he had come for. He didn't want to disturb the peace.
So instead Max just made a grunting noise in his throat and shook his head, running a dirt-caked hand through his lengthening hair. Angharad had known plenty of suffering; she could be spared of his own. The two sat in silence again for a while, Max not wanting to speak further on Angharad's topic and enjoying the time to get weight off his feet and breathe without having to worry about somebody trying to shoot him or abduct him.
He was still quite amazed at the transformation Furiosa and the Wives had brought about the Citadel. The district felt like a safe haven from the hell waiting outside the gates, and the people seemed more or less healthy and content. Max didn't believe in hope, but if he did, this would be it. This peaceful and energized city of brightness and green was more than Max could possibly have expected when he first made the decision to return.
Angharad handed him a mug of water, which he downed in a flash. He watched her face carefully as she spoke, curling his lip up unpleasantly when she forced herself to say Joe's name.
When Angharad asked Max how he was, he hadn't the faintest idea how to respond. He was awful, same as always; constantly in pain from this injury or that, sick half the time, and hallucinating the other half. When he wasn't awake there were nightmares; and when he was, he was living the nightmare. It was hell, just the same as it was for every other soul out there on the sand.
But Max couldn't tell the Splendid Angharad all that. Of course, the woman was tough; there was no doubt about that. But Max couldn't help but feel that speaking the truth would only make her sad for him, which he couldn't have. Pity from any of the Wives was not what he had come for. He didn't want to disturb the peace.
So instead Max just made a grunting noise in his throat and shook his head, running a dirt-caked hand through his lengthening hair. Angharad had known plenty of suffering; she could be spared of his own. The two sat in silence again for a while, Max not wanting to speak further on Angharad's topic and enjoying the time to get weight off his feet and breathe without having to worry about somebody trying to shoot him or abduct him.
He was still quite amazed at the transformation Furiosa and the Wives had brought about the Citadel. The district felt like a safe haven from the hell waiting outside the gates, and the people seemed more or less healthy and content. Max didn't believe in hope, but if he did, this would be it. This peaceful and energized city of brightness and green was more than Max could possibly have expected when he first made the decision to return.
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