Enter the (Ex-)Imperator.

[eumenis]

There's a woman at the edge of the Parklands, knee-deep in grass. She looks like a soldier, one arm a metal prosthetic, a skull-shaped brand marking the nape of her neck, a machete in a sheath at her hip, and possibly other weapons hidden on her person. She's dirty, stained with dust and oil, and tension sings along the lines of her back and shoulders. Like she's waiting to be attacked.

At the same time, though, there's a distinctly misty look in her eyes as she stares out over the field before her. Flowers. Insects. Streams and lakes. Maybe she's hallucinating. Maybe she's dead.

She has one question, though, because beauty is so often a trap: "Is this water safe?"

Comments

[eumenis]

Poor Horvath. Straw and wicker will actually raise more eyebrows where she's from than a tupperware container would. There's plastic all over the damn place; it's just considered relatively useless by now. Metal is what's valuable.

She takes the baskets he offers and looks them over with interest, then nods to him. "Thanks. I have no idea how I'll explain, but the people I intend to tell trust me more than anyone should. The worst they'll do is make sure I haven't been hallucinating from heatstroke."

[bitterguardian]

It may raise eyebrows, but it may also give them ideas. In a world where every scrap and resource is valuable, something woven from plant fibers would be useful to study and copy. After all, not all parts of the plants they have are edible, and it's another way to make use of those. He just thought something natural and basic would be less out of place, and he doesn't know enough of her world to know how wrong he is.

"I'd imagine they'll be convinced you're not quickly enough, with this." He keeps a couple of the baskets in hand, limping closer and finding a grip on the edge of one with his cane hand so he can pick berries to fill it with.

[eumenis]

Sometimes they use chaff to soften stone floors for the pups, or to stuff into mattresses for higher ranking War Boys. Weaving it makes some sense, too, though. Furiosa thinks maybe the Vuvalini used to do this. She'll ask Hela and Maat later on.

"I guess they will be." She smiles a little and follows his example, carefully plucking berries and dropping them into the basket. It's not until hers is fairly well-stocked that she pauses, having come upon a praying mantis.

She bends to look eye-to-eye with it, visibly intrigued. It's pretty, and she feels slightly guilty for wondering whether it's edible.

[bitterguardian]

It's a peaceful thing, to just pick berries with someone, and as loquacious as Horvath seems he's not bothered by a stretch of companionable silence, either. He picks the best berries he finds, and only eats a couple, because he's not worried about being able to get them again the way she might be. His fingers stain a little with berry juice, and the thorns snag at him once in a while, but there's something pleasantly nostalgic about the activity.

When she pauses and peers, Horvath leans over a little to look, too. "Praying mantis. They eat other insects, keep the pests that might eat the berries under control."

[eumenis]

The bug tilts its head, seemingly looking Furiosa in the eye. "...I should leave it be, then?"

She's fascinated. It's a strangely elegant little thing, pointed and leggy and alert. "I don't think I ever saw anything quite like it. Maybe there aren't any left where I'm from. We raise darkling beetles for the grubs, and there are plenty of spiders, scorpions, a few other beetles and flies. Nothing like this."

[bitterguardian]

"Probably for the best, yes. I'm not sure they're capable of giving a human more than a pinch, but they're beneficial insects, I believe." He's not a bug expert, but her description of what they have in their world makes him think.

"Do you have bees? Pollinators? That could help with plants. I don't know much about them, but I'm sure you could find someone who does. I'm afraid I'm more of a scholar and an old soldier than I am a botanist..."

[eumenis]

Furiosa moves around the bug gently, picking a few more berries carefully so as not to disturb it. How much animal life has died out on her world, she wonders? Would it be worth it to reintroduce something like this little creature, or would the radiation just kill it?

These are questions she can't find out alone. She's going to need help from home, for certain.

"We used to have bees. I haven't seen them in a long time. There are still flower flies here and there, but we do our pollination by hand, mostly."

[bitterguardian]

If anything would survive the radiation, it's bugs. They must have some nightmarish roaches, somewhere. Or possibly Weta bugs. Just one of those could practically be a whole meal.

"That's a shame. If it's a problem, though, I'm sure you could find somebody more expert on the matter. I'm afraid I've gotten lazy, myself, and the world I live in allows it." He gives her a wry little smile, almost apologetic. There was a time people in his own world lived much closer to the sources of their food, and had to work for it, and the change was gradual but the contrast is astonishing when he bothers to think about it.