video and spam
Jun. 29th, 2015 09:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
witness_thisSpam
[Furiosa spends most mornings in the gym. Honestly, she'd prefer the Enclosure, but she needs to be moving long and often enough that she can't justify using more than her share of the precious time in the false environment. She works out quickly how to run on the treadmill, but most of the other machines remain a mystery to her. If the right person is using them, they may see her watching, or so may decide to approach.
Some mornings her prosthesis is on, and others it is off, tucked protectively and nearly underfoot, out of habit, though this doesn't seem like the kind of place where anyone is likely to get any ideas.
When she is done, she usually ends by slipping upstairs, showering quickly, and permitting herself what feels like the decadent luxury of putting her feet into the pool. It takes her until about the fifth time to get up the nerve to walk in to the water, to lower herself down in it until she feels it lap up around her neck, then to hold her breath and gingerly, cover her mouth and nose, and cautiously, gingerly slip under the surface and just let herself float, suspended.
She can be found in any of those places.
Still, a workout isn't the same thing as practice, really, and the conversation that has been going on here has weighed heavily on her, though she hasn't participated. So, finally, she takes a break one morning in the gym and turns on the feed.]
Video
[She has to clear her throat to start, and wipe the sweat off her face. She's sitting in the frame, bare feet apart, elbows rested on her knees, metal arm down at her side. Furiosa isn't comfortable, exactly, talking to a little plastic box that will take her words all over the ship, but this is important to her.]
My name is Imperator Furiosa. I'm human. No powers. I'm in the gym.
If you need, I've been teaching people a little about how to fight. If you don't need, but you're--
I could use the practice.
[Short, unceremonious, she disconnects.]
[Furiosa spends most mornings in the gym. Honestly, she'd prefer the Enclosure, but she needs to be moving long and often enough that she can't justify using more than her share of the precious time in the false environment. She works out quickly how to run on the treadmill, but most of the other machines remain a mystery to her. If the right person is using them, they may see her watching, or so may decide to approach.
Some mornings her prosthesis is on, and others it is off, tucked protectively and nearly underfoot, out of habit, though this doesn't seem like the kind of place where anyone is likely to get any ideas.
When she is done, she usually ends by slipping upstairs, showering quickly, and permitting herself what feels like the decadent luxury of putting her feet into the pool. It takes her until about the fifth time to get up the nerve to walk in to the water, to lower herself down in it until she feels it lap up around her neck, then to hold her breath and gingerly, cover her mouth and nose, and cautiously, gingerly slip under the surface and just let herself float, suspended.
She can be found in any of those places.
Still, a workout isn't the same thing as practice, really, and the conversation that has been going on here has weighed heavily on her, though she hasn't participated. So, finally, she takes a break one morning in the gym and turns on the feed.]
Video
[She has to clear her throat to start, and wipe the sweat off her face. She's sitting in the frame, bare feet apart, elbows rested on her knees, metal arm down at her side. Furiosa isn't comfortable, exactly, talking to a little plastic box that will take her words all over the ship, but this is important to her.]
My name is Imperator Furiosa. I'm human. No powers. I'm in the gym.
If you need, I've been teaching people a little about how to fight. If you don't need, but you're--
I could use the practice.
[Short, unceremonious, she disconnects.]
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 02:46 pm (UTC)He sets the tray down in front of her, settles one plate in front her, and slips into the other seat.
They don't need to speak to each other, and he doesn't initiate any conversation. He eats quietly; doesn't taste a thing, but feels the chewing calm him down. It's strange that it works the way she'd said it would work, but he accepts it like he's accepted other things about her. It's only when he's polished off the entire meal and is halfway down his cup of coffee that he leans back, closes his eyes; trusts her to use the table to its full advantage.]
Be mighty bloody tiresome if this happened every time, Furiosa.
[He means to say: we shouldn't fight again, but it's easier to convince her of the reasons why first and then tell her that.]
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 02:50 pm (UTC)[She can't conceive of a world where that could be less than every few days. He must have a good idea by now, a reasonably large sample.]
You're gonna have to break that, fast. This place waits for no man.
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 03:12 pm (UTC)[He takes a sip of coffee, and his voice is no longer regretful like it was before. This is just stating facts.]
And guns are fine.
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 03:39 pm (UTC)[Cradling her cup of coffee, scanning the room, thoughtfully.
Yes, there's going to be a next time, Tommy.]
Seen that yet?
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 03:48 pm (UTC)No, I haven't. But if it can do that, I should've.
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 03:51 pm (UTC)[A shrewd glance, a private little smile.]
You're with me?
Re: [spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 03:57 pm (UTC)He leans his head back against the wall, then turns it just enough to look at her.]
I'm with you, Furiosa.
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 04:01 pm (UTC)Then we'll go there next time. In the mean time, do you want more of that drink?
[She doesn't know the word for coffee.]
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 04:37 pm (UTC)Coffee? No, thank you. [He makes it a policy to limit his non-alcoholic fluids intake to about 20% a day, Furiosa. The rest of it must be whiskey.]
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 04:49 pm (UTC)[Echoing, testing the word.]
We never heat water deliberately. Loses too much into the air. This tastes like a canteen left in the car on a hot day, but with flavour.
[Drawing her hand back, carefully unruffled.]
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 05:52 pm (UTC)It's made from beans. They roast them, then grind the beans down to little particles and let the water run through that so it gets its flavor.
Do you like it?
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 06:01 pm (UTC)[Fruit punch.]
But it's nothing compared to iced water. I've never tasted cold like that, even back when I was a girl.
[She hasn't passed blood in her urine once since she's been here, either. It's miraculous, as far as she's concerned.]
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 06:14 pm (UTC)[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 06:19 pm (UTC)[Swaddle Dog, the recitation pushes her to add, but these are details he doesn't need, and a mantra it leaves her throat a little tight to think of.]
I had a mother, MaryJo Bassa, and an initiate mother named Katie Concannon. We lived in the Green Place, which was then an oasis. A lingering stripe of green, nestled in behind a mountain range, while the rest of the world around us seemed to shrivel and wither.
When I was fourteen, JoBassa and I went out on bikes to trade food for what passed for medicine, and a raiding party nabbed us. We never told them where we came from.
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 06:52 pm (UTC)It's not his world, and he can't imagine being part of it, but one of the names is familiar enough that it throws him: makes him think, momentarily, that this might not be a different world-- just a future one. It doesn't bear thinking about for to long, and he doesn't want his attention to wander.]
And you bided your time.
[But he knows how it ended. She told him in the greenhouse: now the whole world is probably sand. She doesn't need his anger, nor does she need his sympathy, or his reassurance. But they are there if she asks for them.]
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 07:04 pm (UTC)[And many more lost to pain, disorientation, fever, infection, and the deepest, darkest weeks of captivity, in the bottom of that place.]
But it means that for me, there is a now, but there is also a before. I remember what trees are. The children do not.
[A shrug, and a nonchalant stretch.]
It means I'm lucky.
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 07:21 pm (UTC)[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 07:38 pm (UTC)[She explains, thumb drawing a circle around the rim of her coffee cup.]
You could see it. Or, for that matter, so could I. I want to know more about you but I can't quite-
[A frustrated gesture. She still has no idea what to ask, he's better at gleaning things than her.]
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 07:53 pm (UTC)He stands up, touches his fingertips to her shoulder and jerks his head in the direction of the door.]
Come on.
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 07:58 pm (UTC)Furiosa isn't precisely sure where he's taking her, but trusts it will be well-considered, important.]
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 08:12 pm (UTC)The door they stop at is simple, green painted wood. When he pushes it open they end up in something that she might recognize as a kitchen- a wood stove in the corner, a fireplace, a large wooden table. One wall is covered with small patterned tiles, and there's a large wooden cabinet with patterned china against one wall. The double doors leading to the next room are closed, but he'll open them after showing her this first.]
My family's house. I've lived here-- all my life. My brothers, my sister, aunt Pol- this is where we eat, sleep, do business.
[The whole room is old, with cracks in the ceiling and tears in the wallpaper above the door, but it's clean, and it's cozy. It's as close as he can get to showing her his family, without them actually being there. She needs to know: they are why he does anything at all.]
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 08:19 pm (UTC)She goes to those tiles first, focused, feeling impelled to touch. It's like the tile in the roof of the war rig, except flowers, instead of skulls.]
Pretty.
[She says, before turning to the stove. A critical glance and she guesses it must be for heat, but;]
It gets cold?
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 08:26 pm (UTC)Very cold. It rains more often than not, and snows in the winter.
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 08:40 pm (UTC)What do you burn?
[spam]
Date: 2015-06-30 08:48 pm (UTC)We keep it in there. We use it to cook on, and to keep ourselves warm.
[spam]
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