Ithaqua wants to remain here. Better place, more freedom. Romano wants to do the right thing, regardless of how it turns out for us. The last guy... gonna take some time.
Yeah. Weird to work with, but you get used to it. Connor's our fourth. He's one of those thinking machines, Robots. Androids. Whatever you wanna call it. So the way he thinks? Hard to change from his programming.
Okay, okay, maybe not that dramatic, but still a little surprised. But... a year is a long time, and she had him for a tiny fraction of that before he was pouring his blood into her veins. ]
[Somewhat noble. But really, it was... trying to make things even.]
When I was under punishment -- he fed me. Under the table. Alrys didn't know.
[He could be dead or worse off. It's... hard to shake his buried sense of honor in that. He will if he has to — will take out Connor if there truly isn't a way to change his protocol, or convince him. But. He can't do it without a fair shake.
Tch. 'Fair'. It's gonna be the death of him to entertain things like fairness, someday.]
Mm. Hard to fight it. Hard to go against what you know.
[Max knows it in his own way. Not by virtue of being under the orders of others — not in the same way Furiosa had been, or Connor likely is. But changing from the safe status quo is... also it's own kind of troubling task.]
[ Inside Furiosa there are two wolves: the wolf that is fiercely independent and has never willingly asked for help in her life, and the wolf that is trying to convince Max about the benefits of sleeping indoors.
[Why does this feel like some karmic being trying to force him to interact with an apartment? Surely that's what's happening here. Regardless, he's not about to drag Furiosa out of one, and he's not about to leave her to redo popped stitches with one arm. So.
[He'd never ruin a perfectly good barrier between them and immediate danger, Furiosa. That's just poor strategic planning for when this place inevitably goes into the shitter (which is what he thinks, because he has always been fatalistic, always assumed the worst will happen). For now, though, he focuses on this: Furiosa has stitches popped; those must be taken care of, for better healing time.
So he hobbles his way from the junkyard to the trolley system, mourning the absence of the motorbike he'd been glued to for a large portion of his time in Solmara — and inevitably makes it back into the more active area of the city. It can be a hell of a ghost town in places on the outskirts; he immediately pines for the extreme quiet, maybe foolishly so, considering the quiet is what births so many unpleasant dreams and images of long-dead ghosts.
[ A couple of sutures are no big deal. Furiosa's been through worse (pretty obviously), but the spot is just annoying enough to have difficulty managing it by yourself. Add a missing arm, and it becomes near impossible.
She checks the peep hole before letting Max in. He'll hear her click open the extra locks and chains she's reinforced the doors with. She may not be as paranoid as Max, but that doesn't make her trust her neighbors naively either. ]
Come on.
[ She seems well enough, gesturing him in with the jerk of her chin. He'll see the sticky blood, blooming into a stain through her shirt from her popped stitches. She gave up trying to fight it. A little blood doesn't bother her.
She's only been here for a few days, but Furiosa's started piles of eclectic scavenged bits. Here, a pile of scrap and sheet metal. On that surface, stripped wires and a pair of pliers next to a small collection of colorful glass. Her project isn't immediately clear. There's more utilitarian stores too, of course. Food and medical supplies stacked into piles into the kitchen. ]
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