Beau Taplin, The Wild Heart 

art by night-rooms

( insp. )

Fic: Finding Words [3/8]

I am fascinated by the use of words and silence in Mad Max: Fury Road, and by the way all the characters find their voices.

So this is a series about those little moments of voice. There will be one chapter for each of the eight members of the war rig family, all either expanded or missing scenes, posted in chronological order as they fit into the movie.

Warnings for: references to past abuse, including sexual abuse, but nothing explicit. It’s handled in much the same way as the movie itself.

(This chapter deals a little more closely with past rape and sexual abuse, though there’s still nothing explicit. But the references are stronger.)

(And lots more headcanon backstory in this one again.)

Chapter 1: The Splendid Angharad

Chapter 2: Toast the Knowing

Chapter 3: Cheedo the Fragile

Cheedo feels as though she’s made of glass. Fragile, Joe had always called her, almost fondly, in the same way that a collector is fond of the delicate little trinkets lined on his shelf. Cheedo the Fragile. She’s never felt it more strongly than now.

The rig is strangely quiet in the dark. Cheedo huddles together with her sisters, holding a light between them, a lantern burning in the desert night. It was Capable who lit it, Capable with silent tears running down her face and a fierce tremor in her voice as she said, “My mother used to say the lights guide people home. To – to the Great Mother Below.” She’d whispered that last bit, strange and reverent and trembling. Cheedo has never been sure she believes Capable’s stories about the Great Mother Below, but she understands the light in the dark, and maybe that’s enough.

Cheedo never knew a mother. She can’t really imagine what motherhood means, other than the strange, sad, determined look in Angharad’s eyes when she touched her swollen belly, or the slow, listless movements of the Milking Mothers, their eyes dull and far away.

Furiosa calls the Green Place the land of many mothers, and Cheedo thinks maybe that’s why she’s starting to hate hearing about it. (It’s not because Angharad is – it’s not it’s not it’s not.) She’s heard far too much about mothers.

What Cheedo knows is sisters. Sisters, and a husband.

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                  “You saying that I don’t have to and ‘I can take                             care of myself, Leo’ isn’t going to make                             me stop worrying.” leo huffed, brushing his thumb over her cheek affectionately.            “I’m always gonna worry about you. You’re             my sister. You’re sure that everything is okay?”

     she hadn’t much been pay attention to what he was saying. there was so much she had been focusing on to do so. too much she was focusing on. so much so she hadn’t caught on until his last words. 

     “ huh? yeah, yeah--. ”

                   “You know I worry about you, right?”

     “ You don’t have to-- ” she begins, and it nearly made her worry she had unintentionally revealed a bruise that’d been a few days old. cheedo’s teeth presses into the bottom of her lip, putting on a smile as she looks to her brother. 

          “ I can take care of myself, Leo. ”