Antifreeze. Motor oil. Guzzolene. She's dead-set now, taking down an enemy's Rig, and indifferent to whatever mental force is driving it. When it rears, she manages to cling, fully prepared to hang on until she can get in another shot and hoping to her Mothers that the swords in its hands can't quite reach her.
A second later Azwel yells out and she remembers how terribly efficient he is at flinging lethal force through the air, and decides to take his warning. Luckily for all concerned, she's as good at flinging herself off exploding vehicles as she is at getting up on them. She barely has time to holster the Taurus before she's leaping clear and tumbling again, metal arm held far enough away from the rest of her so she doesn't break her ribs on it.
Glory, what a beautiful explosion! In the lull of quiet afterwards, Furiosa gives a bone-chilling harpy's cry of approval, a wordless shriek into the wind. That's a Vuvalini war-cry, not a War Boy's, and probably a higher compliment. She can give Azwel more articulate congratulations later.
On her feet once more, she aims her rifle at the lingering smaller creatures. She has no interest in speechifying: "Fuck off, or die," is all she says, and even that much seems to have been superfluous as they scamper off in retreat.
The next moments are a flurry of beacon-retrieval and reaching out to Natasha via radio. Furiosa sounds breathless and like she's on an adrenaline high, but her judgment isn't compromised. She checks both teammates for injury and shock, then gets them moving against fast once the beacon is retrieved. Given they're both as eager and competent as she is, it won't be hard.
The weapon cache in the middle of the street is a surprise. Furiosa finds it strange and is wary of traps around it, but once they have the exchange with Ghost via radio, she's happy to collect as much of it as they can carry. And she makes a point of taking the trauma kit, as well as the strange crystals.
The crow strikes her as an odd sign at once, and maybe it's just the black against so much white, but a long time ago she had an exchange with crows in the Nexus. They're not what they seem, here, if her memory serves. Or, at least, they're nothing like the crows back home.
But she has no shinies or eyeballs to give this time, and while she holds up a hand to her teammates to urge they refrain from shooting at it, she only meets its stare and says nothing. If it's going to demand tribute, she'll talk to it, but it's just as well it doesn't.
She stands watch this time, asking Natasha and Azwel to remove the beacon, and when Ghost radios, she picks up right away. "Alpha here. Situation calm on our end; what do you need? Over."
no subject
A second later Azwel yells out and she remembers how terribly efficient he is at flinging lethal force through the air, and decides to take his warning. Luckily for all concerned, she's as good at flinging herself off exploding vehicles as she is at getting up on them. She barely has time to holster the Taurus before she's leaping clear and tumbling again, metal arm held far enough away from the rest of her so she doesn't break her ribs on it.
Glory, what a beautiful explosion! In the lull of quiet afterwards, Furiosa gives a bone-chilling harpy's cry of approval, a wordless shriek into the wind. That's a Vuvalini war-cry, not a War Boy's, and probably a higher compliment. She can give Azwel more articulate congratulations later.
On her feet once more, she aims her rifle at the lingering smaller creatures. She has no interest in speechifying: "Fuck off, or die," is all she says, and even that much seems to have been superfluous as they scamper off in retreat.
The next moments are a flurry of beacon-retrieval and reaching out to Natasha via radio. Furiosa sounds breathless and like she's on an adrenaline high, but her judgment isn't compromised. She checks both teammates for injury and shock, then gets them moving against fast once the beacon is retrieved. Given they're both as eager and competent as she is, it won't be hard.
The weapon cache in the middle of the street is a surprise. Furiosa finds it strange and is wary of traps around it, but once they have the exchange with Ghost via radio, she's happy to collect as much of it as they can carry. And she makes a point of taking the trauma kit, as well as the strange crystals.
The crow strikes her as an odd sign at once, and maybe it's just the black against so much white, but a long time ago she had an exchange with crows in the Nexus. They're not what they seem, here, if her memory serves. Or, at least, they're nothing like the crows back home.
But she has no shinies or eyeballs to give this time, and while she holds up a hand to her teammates to urge they refrain from shooting at it, she only meets its stare and says nothing. If it's going to demand tribute, she'll talk to it, but it's just as well it doesn't.
She stands watch this time, asking Natasha and Azwel to remove the beacon, and when Ghost radios, she picks up right away. "Alpha here. Situation calm on our end; what do you need? Over."