#nuxtheuncrackable

War drums. That was what finally broke him from his reverie. Seeing the War Rig off on a supply run, that he could care less about. Happened every week. He had a rifle to attend to and a sister to keep from shenanigans; responsibilities that needed attending.

But war drums were unusual. War drums meant a war party. A real, proper war party; those taiko drums were only carried on the Doof Wagon, and Coma didn’t bother with minor raiding parties. Hastily, he reassembled the rifle, rocking a magazine into place and cycling the bolt, bounding down to the motor pool.

He bumped into someone on the way down. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary; the press of bodies was the same at Coma’s late-night performances and in the rush to the garages. But this someone, he got a look at. A War Boy, face almost entirely white, hooked up to a bloodbag and staggering down to his car.

She sneered behind her mask, keeping her blaster trained on him as she widened her stance. Her ship was half buried in the sand, and if this planet was as primitive as she assumed, there’d be no finding parts to repair it. But if there was anything to be found...maybe this Immortan would have something of use.

With the sudden explosion of infighting and violence between several other War Boys within the garage bay earlier that day Rook found himself rather pleased towards the sudden surge of calm that replaced it when a bulk of the others left for food. It was impossible to be completely alone - he was almost certain there were several others still around working as well - but the silence that had crept in to replace the sudden surge of ruckus was... well, better.

He could still hear the thud of flesh, could still scent the acrid stench of high-octane blood being shed during the others’ little squabble, and hell... from the angle he was at beneath his vehicle he could still see the long splatter of blood that one of the two - not the scarred faced lancer, the other one - had left behind before being hauled off to see the Organic Mechanic.

Just another day, right?

Something needed to happen soon, something big, before everyone started turning on everyone for an out-leash of tension and energy.

Ignoring the bite of specks of stray sand that was pretty much everywhere anyway that nipped along his back he dug the heel of a boot into the floor, using that as leverage to scoot himself further beneath the car in order to work to repair that bit of damage it had sustained during its last run. There was movement about, someone else in the garage that was almost for certain, but he couldn’t recognize the footfalls themselves.. certainly not Magpie either, wherever the heck the big lancer had gone off to anyway.