diademnet | Skull Brand

[ Kimiko tilts her shoulders back to get a better look where Furiosa is pointing. His back is to them, a makeshift vest of boiled leather covering his back; his ginger dreads hang low and wild. She nods again, solidly, and then points up to the electronic sign board announcing the upcoming matches.

NEXT:
HARROW VS. BABYTEETH
11PM:
SPIDER VS. RATTLESNAKE
11:30PM:
JESTER VS. SHAKESPEARE

And so on.

The implication is clear. If Furiosa wants to talk to him, she either needs to do it now or wait roughly forty minutes for his match to be over. He'll be in a better mood after, but it isn't like they know that. ]

Edited 2025-09-01 05:21 (UTC)

[ Her metal fingers curl into a fist, and then the last thick prong pops up. It's sort of like a thumbs up, if she had a thumb on that hand. Never mind that, that's not the important part. The important part is that it's a clear understood.

Watch her orange slices, Kimiko. She'll finish those later.

"Aye, Warhead!" And Furiosa is surprised that someone recognizes her. Some regular who's here every night, gaining and losing fortunes in rapid succession. The call sign wasn't her idea. Wasn't her first one either, but it stuck after a particularly bloody match where her arm got ripped off (the mechanical one, thankfully. Easily reattached). Pinned and beaten, it didn't look good. Well, until she reared back and used her skull as a battering ram to take the fight back.

Playing bouncer isn't nearly as lucrative money, but the work is easier and she's less likely to get all her teeth punched out and generally doesn't hit her head on shit all day.

It's packed in the bullpen and outside of it, but she's got just a few minutes to check this. She wanted to... well, if not talk exchange somehow, but Furiosa can't get that close to even see if there's a circle around the skull on his chest. ]

Hey! Harrow!

[ She shouts, and when that doesn't work she tries again louder. She makes a finger whistle, calling sharply which finally demands a little or a lot of attention. The crowd around her quiets momentarily, so it's extra obvious when she starts... chanting? ]

By my deeds! I honor him! V8!

[ She booms loudly, voice dropped low and loud. She raises her hands above her head, fingers laced together. She jerks them in a rhythmic motion. It probably looks a little insane.

Harrow (and, if we're being honest, every other fighter in the pen) just sort of grimaces awkwardly and assumes that Warhead stopped coming to fight because she knocked her screws too loose.

Back to the table, Furiosa slides in and takes a bite out of her orange slice. She's caught on by now that Kimiko doesn't talk, but she figures she's curious anyway. ]

Either he's not one of Joe's, or I'm gonna get my head stomped on whenever he's done, but I'll get an answer either way.

Edited 2025-09-04 13:35 (UTC)

[ In truth, if you asked Kimiko what she expected from the next few minutes, she probably would have an answer that ranged from boring to a complete, shrugging absence of anything. But Furiosa stands, steps away from the table, shouts out for Harrow, and then—

She, uh.

Does a little dance?
Proclaims her fealty to… someone?
Praises tomato juice?

Congratulations. This is officially the weirdest thing Kimiko has seen today.

Everyone else seems as quietly discombobulated by the display as Kimiko; the other fighters, as well as select audience members, give Furiosa looks of mild bewilderment and casual, sneering scorn. She politely sits and waits and continues to guard a small plate of orange slices as if they were her own child until the other chair at the table is occupied again. That was... Something, yeah.

Pulling out her phone, Kimiko types out a quick message on the notes app and holds it out for Furiosa to see. ]

Who is Joe?
Are you looking for him in the city?

[ A valid question. Furiosa can't run from this forever, especially if she's roping other people into this. She runs a palm over her jaw before deciding there's a handy visual on her body.

Furiosa twists in the chair so her back is to Kimiko and then reaches back. Tugs the back of her jacket collar down so her brand is on display. Sure enough, the same skull she was asking about burnt into her neck. ]

He owned me. [ There's no extra drama in how she delivers this. Gang symbol had been kind of accurate, but property of Joe Moore had been the most honest. She turns back, smoothing her jacket collar back over her neck. ] Gonna have a bad day if I ever cross him again on the road.

Edited 2025-09-06 00:18 (UTC)

[ One human owning another is a repugnant concept, and—

Well, it isn't that different from what the Shining Light did to Kimiko and her brother, is it? But it's Serge that Kimiko finds herself thinking now, in the stews of a breakdown, white on his nostrils and a clench in in his heart, bemoaning the father who dragged him away from his maman in chains.

Her expression steels. A few short words, and she's entirely on Furiosa's side, in her corner.

Type type type, if it needed to be said. ]

I'll help you find him.

Edited 2025-09-07 22:54 (UTC)

[ Oh. Well, Furiosa can't say she'd do or say anything differently if presented with the same set of information about someone else. Still, it's nice how quick people jump to each others' sides here.

The corner of her mouth quirks up. A small, wry smile. ]

Thanks. [ Furiosa can toast to that, and does so, offering her pint glass full of water. ] Fortunately, he's hard to miss. And smells awful.

[ Tap tap tap, and a conspiratorial little look — ]

He’s not the only one

[ Kimiko clinks her glass against Furiosa’s companionably.

The rest of the evening is quite pleasant. Their table slowly becomes littered with more and more empty glasses and orange skins; the fighters sweat and crow and bleed and fall. The crowd’s excitement reaches a crescendo that drowns out all verbal conversation — from there, a canny combination of gestures and facial expressions see them through the pandemonium. It’s almost five a.m., the sky lightly dawning, when the door shuts behind them and they part ways. ]

Skull Brand

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