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bleak_midwinter[Spam]
[Tommy walks the halls as if they belong ti him- it's not too strange, since they often did, back home. He walks as if's surrounded by hard men with razors stitched into their hats, with guns in their hands. It's easy to take offense to, but he'll be quick to reassure if anyone does.
He visits the Deck first, to smoke and to let it sink in where he is. After that, he makes the rounds, exploring: the dining hall for a good meal, the bar for some whiskey (Irish; always), the engine room. He spends a considerable amount of time in the common rooms, too, trying to figure out the TV's.
At night he's back on the deck, as high as he can go, as different as scene from his dreams as the Barge can provide.]
[Video]
[He's been on the ship for a full day before he announces himself. You might have seen him, or you might not have; for all he moves as if he owns the halls, his suit is drab enough that he can blend in when he wants.
He's in his kitchen now; there are patterned tiles, an old-fashioned wood stove, a china cabinet. It's cozy, if outdated for most of the Barge's inhabitants. Without his hat on, Tommy's eyes are a clear, penetrating blue. His voice is low, with a strong Birmingham accent. He's smoking, and it's obscuring his face in the already low lighting from the oil lamp on the table.]
From what I can tell, this place is all about 'forgiveness'. Not forgetting, but forgiving-- inmates and wardens alike. How long should forgiveness take? Are there things you could never forgive? People you'll always forgive?
Has your opinion changed, since you've been here?
[Tommy walks the halls as if they belong ti him- it's not too strange, since they often did, back home. He walks as if's surrounded by hard men with razors stitched into their hats, with guns in their hands. It's easy to take offense to, but he'll be quick to reassure if anyone does.
He visits the Deck first, to smoke and to let it sink in where he is. After that, he makes the rounds, exploring: the dining hall for a good meal, the bar for some whiskey (Irish; always), the engine room. He spends a considerable amount of time in the common rooms, too, trying to figure out the TV's.
At night he's back on the deck, as high as he can go, as different as scene from his dreams as the Barge can provide.]
[Video]
[He's been on the ship for a full day before he announces himself. You might have seen him, or you might not have; for all he moves as if he owns the halls, his suit is drab enough that he can blend in when he wants.
He's in his kitchen now; there are patterned tiles, an old-fashioned wood stove, a china cabinet. It's cozy, if outdated for most of the Barge's inhabitants. Without his hat on, Tommy's eyes are a clear, penetrating blue. His voice is low, with a strong Birmingham accent. He's smoking, and it's obscuring his face in the already low lighting from the oil lamp on the table.]
From what I can tell, this place is all about 'forgiveness'. Not forgetting, but forgiving-- inmates and wardens alike. How long should forgiveness take? Are there things you could never forgive? People you'll always forgive?
Has your opinion changed, since you've been here?
(no subject)
Date: 2015-06-28 09:02 pm (UTC)[She recalls what he'd said, earlier. Some things are universal, and so are the things they do to people. She can see that about him.
At once, she wonders if his war was the one that killed her world. But no, he talks about it in the past-tense, and with a pride that no soldier would ever have, for accomplishing something like that.
It's actually with a fair amount of tenderness that she decides not to be more specific about that. Let him think her world is alien, not inevitable, at least for now. She finishes the last few bites of her peach, and explains;]
Ivy keeps them to plant. Over here-
[A small tray, where you can leave peach, plum and cherry pits, apple seeds and orange pips. Mostly it's just Furiosa who is this diligent about saving them, but all the same.
Facing away from him, the brand is fairly stark.]
(no subject)
Date: 2015-06-29 12:03 pm (UTC)[He steps forward to put his pit in the tray, resisting the urge to pitch it away like he would have if he'd been home. A contest between brothers that's run since before he can remember- but his brothers aren't here.
This close, and with her facing away, he can see the mark. The skull raises his heckles, and he instinctively presses his arm against the holster at his side, reassuring himself that his gun is on him-- Totenkopf, is what the Germans called it. This brand isn't the same one, but it's close enough. Aggressive enough to count.
He doesn't want to embarrass her, but he doesn't want to ignore it, either. They've been honest with each other so far, and he's not sure where the line is, anymore. So he says, voice soft but clear:]
They made sure you'd remember your allegiance.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-06-29 12:45 pm (UTC)[Because she hears what he means, and even though this part of a story is a deeply uncomfortable one, she stops, glances back over at him.
Furiosa doesn't know how to get him to understand without sounding like she's inviting pity.]
They take you young. The brands come then. After that, it's whatever you're best for, be it the racks, the ranks, the shelf, the road. You die, you break, or you live like a dog on a chain, and wait the years it takes for them to become complacent.
[Even though she doesn't say it, there is nearly unspeakable violence simmering in her tone, with a healthy amount of warm satiation. Furiosa isn't a sadist, not in most cases. There are one or two exceptions.]
(no subject)
Date: 2015-06-29 12:54 pm (UTC)But when he takes in her words, and the tone she's speaking them in, he thrums with pride for a woman he's only just met. He should have known that she wouldn't let a brand define her. Satisfaction: he understands that, too.]
Patience is a virtue.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-06-29 01:01 pm (UTC)Her satisfaction takes on a slightly different quality. It isn't often she feels so comfortably understood.]
One day I'll tell you the story.
[It'll be a pleasure, when he has enough of the bare bones of her world to grasp it. Furiosa wants to know what he has to be proud of, like this, but decides that'll come.]
We can see the snapdragons next, or we can go get a proper meal.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-06-29 01:14 pm (UTC)But all in good time. The peach has stilled his immediate hunger, and her wonder at the plants around them makes him eager to see more, too.]
Think I'd like to see the snapdragons, too.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-06-29 01:22 pm (UTC)[Furiosa confesses at once, lively, and unsure maybe, but still with a total fascination and intensity of reaction that she reserves usually for things that are growing.
She is practically animated, as she leads him over to the little flowers, and shows him, cautiously, how if you pinch them just right they affect a snap.]
(no subject)
Date: 2015-06-29 01:35 pm (UTC)When they get to the flowers he kneels down, one knee on the ground and one knee drawn up so he can lean on it as she shows him. Her enthusiasm is catching, and he tries as well.]
I think they do, back home. [He does it again, huffing a little laugh at the motion the plant makes.] I heard there's a library. There must be books in there on plant care.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-06-29 01:45 pm (UTC)[Because she would like to learn more than what they got from the one or two dusty and dated books back home.
Next, the carnivorous lilies and flytraps, which she can never resist tormenting into a snap with the brush of a blade of grass. She's sure they don't have enough force to actually sting her fingers, but they look so impressive that it feels like it would be an insult not to be cautious.
From there, well- it's a very large greenhouse.]