[ It hadn't been a press to try, but Furiosa isn't surprised when Kimiko braces herself, hand over her throat. Furiosa doesn't know how long she's been silent or why. That's Kimiko's story to own and her story to share only if she wants to. Still, Furiosa watches, chin raised attentively.
For Furiosa, her silence was the single piece of her life she truly had control over for many years. She could never be forced to speak.
For Kimiko, it doesn't happen now. That's fine. Furiosa simply nods in a small movement, just the tiniest bob of her head acknowledging the try. She gets up and dutifully fills two glasses with water before placing them on the couch's side tables. She wanted to get something to soothe Kimiko's throat but mask it behind filling up one for the both of them.
Then, she goes back to signing with a blunt, unimpressed: ]
[ Kimiko accepts the glass of water without making a thing of it. The water might cool her throat from the strain, but at the end of the day her muteness is psychological. The words are there, lodged up in her diaphragm, her chest cavity. Pushing against her lungs, her heart.
And... there they'll stay.
A few more minutes of movie pass by, and Kimiko wholeheartedly concurs. ]
Want to watch Atlantic Trench again?
[ You know, that awesome movie musical about skyscraper-sized robots punching aliens by way of psychic linking of their pilots. In particular, Kimiko appreciates a Japanese leading lady, and gets especially excited when she gets her big solo song. ]
[ And while she may try to keep a stiff upper lip the whole time, Kimiko probably recognizes the soft, almost forlorn expression Furiosa has through parts of the movie. Surprising, not just when the protagonist loses his partner, but her hand curls up in front of her mouth each time the abrasive but undeniably talented mother-daughter duo from Australia appears onscreen with their dog Maximus. Their musical goodbye is touching. ]
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me now triple proofreading every tag to you
For Furiosa, her silence was the single piece of her life she truly had control over for many years. She could never be forced to speak.
For Kimiko, it doesn't happen now. That's fine. Furiosa simply nods in a small movement, just the tiniest bob of her head acknowledging the try. She gets up and dutifully fills two glasses with water before placing them on the couch's side tables. She wanted to get something to soothe Kimiko's throat but mask it behind filling up one for the both of them.
Then, she goes back to signing with a blunt, unimpressed: ]
This movie is stupid.
she's furisoa now
And... there they'll stay.
A few more minutes of movie pass by, and Kimiko wholeheartedly concurs. ]
Want to watch Atlantic Trench again?
[ You know, that awesome movie musical about skyscraper-sized robots punching aliens by way of psychic linking of their pilots. In particular, Kimiko appreciates a Japanese leading lady, and gets especially excited when she gets her big solo song. ]
fury sosa
Always.
[ And while she may try to keep a stiff upper lip the whole time, Kimiko probably recognizes the soft, almost forlorn expression Furiosa has through parts of the movie. Surprising, not just when the protagonist loses his partner, but her hand curls up in front of her mouth each time the abrasive but undeniably talented mother-daughter duo from Australia appears onscreen with their dog Maximus. Their musical goodbye is touching. ]