jaebility: (beatles // relaxed john)
Fortunae Plango Vulnera (series) by eag

Furiosa, War Boys, Wives, Ace, world-building, angst, pre-canon, post-canon
Wow. Wow. Even if you aren't in the Mad Max fandom, you should read this fanfic.
Through connected short stories, eag explores the world and characters of Mad Max: Fury Road. Not just explore - eag builds them. The depth of these stories, the depth of these characters! I've read each of the parts... six? Ten? Maybe a dozen times and each read-through I learn more.

And damn, is there a lot to read. As of January 2016, the series is over 160,000 words. This is a tome-sized fanfic. And it's just as complex as well-written as any professional piece of fiction. If it were published in a book, I’d buy the hell out of it. I can’t rec this series hard enough. The complexity of the characters’ growth, and the joy of their triumphs and pain of their suffering gives them all such a pathos - Especially when you know their ultimate fate.
jaebility: (da // aveline)
Title: Six-String Soldier: Chapter 13
Fandom: Mad Max Fury Road
Rating: PG13ish
Warnings: No warnings for this chapter.
Author's note: Lots of women interacting with women in this one. Cheedo's play, Angharad breaking everyone's hearts some more, and a quick date.

Link to AO3
jaebility: (da //  alistair <3)
Manifest Destiny by KcDStudios

Required reading for any Capable/Nux fan. This fanzine is absolutely adorable! So one of the many reasons I love Nux and Capable together is how supportive and gentle they are of each other. Kacie/KcDStudios art style captures the sweetness of the characters and their relationship - Even the squabbles between Capable and Slit over Nux are cute. Choosing a favorite story/picture is hard... Maybe the one with a chibi Capable playing guitar, since musician!Capable is my jam, but really everything in this fanzine is great. They deserve happiness and in this zine, they get it.
jaebility: (da // yeeaaah)
Title: Six-String Soldier: Chapter 12
Fandom: Mad Max Fury Road
Rating: PG13ish
Warnings: Swearing and not very graphic violence
Author's note: New chapter! This is another from Nux's perspective.

Link to AO3
jaebility: (zelda // battle)
A Toast to the Future by juliettdelta
Slit/Toast, romance, world-building, post-canon fix-it, 23/?? (incomplete)
juliettdelta is another author that writes consistently amazing fic. This one is probably my favorite because the world-building is so fascinating. Gastown and the Bullet Farm are really great - creepy and horrible, with juliettdelta’s own unique spin on those places and what happens there. And Toast! And Slit! I really love how they’re both trying so damn hard, sometimes struggling or even fighting to get what they can out of the harsh environments that make up their lives. But they always remain interesting and sympathetic. I think they can both be difficult characters to write, but juilettdelta nails it.
jaebility: (beatles // paul in glasses)
Wifed by redcandle17
Slit/Toast, romance, humor, post-canon fix-it, 17/17 (complete)
redcandle17’s Slit/Toast stories are always awesome so it was hard to choose just one to rec, but I’m currently obsessed with “Wifed.” It’s a funny premise: Slit gets trolled by the women when he “gets” Toast as his wife, but then the story progresses and the two learn more about each other. I really like the way their relationship develops without them losing their core personalities. Also there’s this one line: Toast says about Slit, “The worse something is, the more he believes it’s true.” That really encompasses the absurdity of the War Boys, and it’s cute and sad and ridiculous all at once, and dammit do I love these guys.
jaebility: (nyc // strawberry fields)
Night Like This (Fanzine) by kotteri

Everything about this fanzine is beautiful. There's something in kotteri's artwork that captures the pathos of the characters, gives them a dignity and and even a sweetness despite their brutal circumstances (and actions). Each of the stories is touching, but I think my favorite is the one where Nux sews up Slit's cheek after he's been injured.

So the MMFR fandom has all sorts of different explanations for his scars. In this one, a young Slit already has a scar on one side of his face. I totally agree with this headcanon - god, it's so sad and awful to think someone cutting through a child's face like that. And god, what does that do to a person? And to think that it happened to him twice? Anyway, so back to the comic: Nux finds Slit is at the organic mechanic after his second terrible injury. The scene is sad, but poignant - Nux takes the needle and thread, and sews his partner's face back together.

The War Boy system is righteously fucked, but there are bits of their humanity that their society hasn't yet stripped away. And kotteri's art does an amazing job at showing that.
jaebility: (digimon // daisuke nap)
“I want to do more,” he told Furiosa. He was standing without a crutch and without wobbling, but she could see how he still listed, still learning how to shift his weight onto his new metal leg.

Her missing hand ached a bit as she looked at him, ghost fingers curling. Even though they spent most of their days in the garage together, she hadn’t seen much of Nux - They were both too deep in the cars to do much more than pass tools and parts. She was proud of him in a way that she tried to dampen, so she just gave him an abrupt nod. “Yeah. So where are you gonna start?”

“Fighting, guns - defense only,” he added quickly. “Rifle, maybe snipe, for scouting. How to get out fast, how to take the other guy down before he does it to you.”


“Not how to do war,” he insisted. He leaned to the other side, over compensating, and had to take a step to balance himself. “But how to stay safe. And maybe win - or at least not lose. And that’s all right, right? They should know. And if I can do it, they can too. And they’ll be better, all black thumbs over their chrome.”

“Yeah,” she said again.

“Especially Capable,” he couldn’t help but add and then looked even more satisfied.

The brand on the back of her neck itched and she ran her callused fingers over it, then up into the bristles of her hair. The scars she’d picked up on Fury Road were almost gone already, pink lines fading like the whole thing had been a dream after all. Furiosa didn’t exactly sigh, but she exhaled a breath that seemed to come from some deep, dark place in her chest. She’d always been focused on the immediate - the road right ahead of her - and faced with options and ideas and possibilities, she felt like she was jammed in the mud again, with wheels spinning and not enough gas to get out. She might’ve mused on it more, now that she had the time to, but she caught him staring, waiting, with his big eyes wide. So she started her brain back into motion as she considered in earnest his suggestion - running over routines, remembering what she’d been taught and what she had had to learn on her own. “Defensive fighting first, then guns. They’ll need to be strong enough for the kick-backs.”

He nodded eagerly and she continued, engine finally running clear, “Don’t waste energy. Stick with basics: the stance, dodging, where to hit. After that, loading guns, any you can get your hands on. Then easy targets. Get the Milk Mothers, too.”

“Yes, Imperator!” he responded and straightened under her orders, a reflex that he hadn’t routed yet.

“You can handle it?”

Nux nodded again even as he started tilting. This time Furiosa was faster than him and she grabbed his arm with her mechanic hand to pull him upright. Without the white paint, she could see him flush - good, type O-negative, high-octane blood still in his veins - and he stammered something apologetic. “Never shiny but I’m not rusted yet. Fixed.”

“You weren’t broken,” she said and he shook his head, but he stayed silent when she glared. War Boys, she thought - They barely lived out their half lives, but here he was. Here she was. Not fixed, but better.

She hadn’t let go of him, although he’d steadied himself, and with an anxious-to-please expression he raised his own hand and clasped it over the bars and tubes of her wrist. He waited for her to shake him off and when she didn’t, he said quietly, “I’ll follow you, Furiosa. And not because I have to.”

And then, like he had before, he added an after-thought. “After Capable. She comes first.”

She snorted and released him, and Nux practically danced backwards. “I never was a lancer, but I’ll do it for them.”

Walking he did fine. Better at moving than he was at rest - That was a War Boy trait, beaten into them from their War Pup days. He was halfway down the hallway when she called out to him again, “Nux! How come you aren’t teaching them to drive?”

She could see his grin through the dusty lighting. “Gonna for Capable! She’ll be my driver and I’ll be hers, and she’ll lead your Citadel wherever you want. She’s a beacon, she’s a light in the dark like - like a nitro flame!”

“Only Capable?”

“Front seat only sits two. And she needs to learn the engine, plugs, me and her under the hood.”

“Smeg. You teach ‘em all - Anyone who wants to learn.”

“Yes, Imperator.” His reply came prompt enough but the smile was gone.

“Smeg,” she said again. “Fine, Capable first. But then all of ‘em.”

“Yes, Imperator!”

He clasped his hands together - a v8 engine in her honor - before disappearing into the dark. She rubbed the back of her neck again and then returned to her tools. Cars, bikes, trucks - The whole fleet needed work, from the wheels up. They needed a rig first, that was obvious. The two spares weren’t half the rigs that hers had been. There were a thousand other things that needed to be done - ten thousand other things, a million other things - but at least this time she wasn’t doing it alone.

mad max!

Jun. 12th, 2015 09:14 pm
jaebility: (zelda // battle)
He goes back for a car. The bike the Citadel gives him is... fine - it roars under him like it reads his thoughts - but he wants more wheels, an engine he can slid under, a roof to get the damned sun off his face. So Max goes back, the third time on the same trail. For a car, he thinks like a mantra, for a car.

There's no storm and there are no armies, so he makes good time and before long the cliffs rise out of the sand like they were waiting for him. And smoke that gets in under goggles and through the bandanna, but Max doesn't slow down even when his breaths start to burn. Nothing's chasing him this time - at least, nothing that's still alive - and there's no reason for him to ride the bike hard and fast enough that the engine burns along, too. He could've stayed at the Citadel - they would have let him, and maybe even wanted him to - or he could've found some place in the desert, waited out a few days until whatever War Boys had survived had crawled off to die someplace else.

He needed a car - that was his reason. The smoke was a signal all right, and the other gangs would be coming to take their own bite of the war party's remains. So he'd left as soon as they'd arrived. He'd come to get what they owed him, what he'd started with.

Max slows down at last, giving the disaster a wide enough berth. Everyone could be dead, he considers, but Max has never been a positive thinker so he reaches down to touch the two guns at his hips, pulls one out. He has a shotgun on his back like a second spine and a rifle behind him, strapped over his water. He slows down bu doesn't kill the engine, just quiets it enough to listen - And wait, and wait, while the fire crackles and eats guzzoline, and metal shrieks as it bends.

Even from his distance it's easy to see how it happened: the rig came through and the Doof Warrior's stage crashed in behind it, and the trailer took down the rocks and the sand, and anyone else too close to brake. He finally turns off the engine, even scratches behind his ear to show what a good target he is, but there's nothing in the smoke.

"Max!" says a voice that he shouldn't be hearing. They'd been quiet for once, or maybe the noise of the chase had blotted them out, and although he tells himself that he shouldn't be surprised that his ghosts haven't been purged, he still feels sick and damp from it, slick with sweat that doesn't evaporate despite the heat.

He climbs off the bike and takes the rifle, but there's nothing threatening enough for a bullet. Just rock and sand, fire and smoke. He makes himself study Furiosa's rig, then forces himself to consider if it's worth saving. No real conclusion there, some good reasons to save it, some good reasons to keep going, but either the ghosts start pushing or his feet don't listen to reason, because Max keeps walking up to it.

"Why'd you leave, Max?"

"So I could come back," he says to the blood on the ground.

A ghost hisses at that. It might just be the sand as it pours from one end of the world to the other, but Max thinks that it's too deliberate to be accidental. It's the ghosts again, digging out from where he'd buried them. He's better prepared for them now, though, and Max digs his boots in to keep himself from running.

"Why, Max? Die die die - we died, Max. You should be dead too!"

He shrugs under his coat. "I will be."

"Not soon enough!"

Furiosa'd built the rig good, damn good, built it strong enough to survive the apocalypse all over again. Max ducks down to peer at the metal skeleton of it, bent but not ruined. The whole top of the machine was gone, but it had allowed sand to get in, smothering the flames. it was luck, or maybe it wasn't - Max can't tell and he isn't going to start laying bets.

"Why don't you die?"

"She decides, she witnesses. I did it for her, for them, for her, even though it hurts. s it supposed to hurt this much?"

"I don't know," Max says and almost dislocated Nux's arm as he pulls the War Boy out.


jaebility: (Default)
a jar of jae

November 2016


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