(As usual, instead of writing any of the prompts and requests I’ve got
lined up, I get attached to a new fandom and go full steam ahead in it
with AUs. My suggestion is that you go see Mad Max: Fury Road and have
your mind blown and your emotions wrecked by like sixteen lines of
dialogue. The title is from a poem called “Say Uncle” by
Kay Ryan. I tried to keep it as close as
possible with also some vague remembrance of the old movies too. This
movie is still fresh in my mind and I listened to the soundtrack
the entire time, but I did get sleepy and drifted off near the end oops. So yeah, in line with the post going around that talks about
how drift compatible Max and Furiosa are in the movie, here’s a Pacific
Rim AU no one asked for.)
nothing is exempt from resurrection
Furiosa is eight when the first kaiju descends
onto San Francisco like a curse. She sits wide-eyed in front of the
telly on the couch, bunched up next to her mother and grandmother, and
watches without blinking as the news reports live feeds of the chaotic
destruction. The monster tears through the city as planes rain bullets
and missiles on its massive body, but nothing seems to stop it, not as
it slices through the Golden Gate Bridge like it’s a cake or steps
through buildings like they were just doors to be pushed open.
mouth hangs open as she clutches a blanket against her chest. She
cannot look away; she cannot even blink. The sun rises before the kaiju
is brought down, but she doesn’t feel tired. She doesn’t feel much of
It’s only until her mother moves to turn off the
television that Furiosa finally snaps out of the daze she’d fallen into.
She peers up at the woman, the only parent she has ever known. Her
mother is strong. She is unwavering yet unfailingly warm. Her mother
And yet the light-haired woman rubs at her mouth,
her green eyes frantic, as she gapes out the window, looking in what
Furiosa thinks is the direction of the US, in the direction of the
kaiju. There is a strange look about her, an even stranger feel, one
that Furiosa doesn’t recognize at first in her mother.
of getting her ready for school, as she normally would be doing at this
hour, her mother leads her to her small bedroom and tucks her back into
bed. Furiosa doesn’t know how she’s going to fall asleep, not with
giant lizards running about in her mind, but her mother doesn’t take no
for an answer.
“Mum,” Furiosa suddenly says when her mother is
tugging the curtains back to darken the room. “I thought you said
monsters weren’t real.”
That’s what her mother told her after she
had a nightmare. Monsters don’t exist. They don’t live in your cupboard
or under your bed. They don’t hide in the dark or in the woods. The only
monsters, her mother said, weren’t really monsters at all, at least not
the kind in the stories. They were bad people. Those were the real
monsters. Except… Furiosa frowns as she turns the idea of the kaiju over
in her head. That one certainly looked like a monster to her.
what seems like hours, her mother doesn’t move, one hand still on the
curtain, the other back to worrying at her mouth, like she’s hiding
words behind her lips, things she can’t say just yet. Furiosa is only
eight. She is a child. She shouldn’t have to worry about these things.
She shouldn’t be scared. Her mother is never scared.
Monsters are real and they would come out from the deep of the ocean. She will be scared. (She will never be scared again.)
stays away from the call of the ocean for as long as he can, sticks to
the deserts of the land, where he feels is safest. Let the coast deal
with the problem; let them figure out what to do. He’s got other things
on his mind. Sure, he’s living in a continent that is literally sitting
in the middle of an ocean of turmoil, but he’s not there and it’s not
his problem. The kaiju are one thing, but life goes on. Not everyone’s
world stopped revolving the day the first kaiju broke out of the water.
later though, of course, of course it does. The kaiju learn quickly and
they leave no one untouched. No one will come out of this unscathed.
his wife that suggests joining the PPDC. She cares too much about what
is going on in the world, thinks that they need to make a difference in
the world, especially with a little one along the way. He can’t look at
her swollen belly without picturing a world in which his daughter will
grow up constantly fearing for her life. Will she ever know a world in
which kaiju don’t exist and haunt the coastlines of the Pacific?
a cop,” his wife tells him, a tired smile on her face. He’s not a great
cop, has a bad habit of finding himself in deep water more often than
not, which she seems to think is the perfect reason why he should sign
up for the Jaeger Program. “Protecting is in your blood. And apparently
they need people with thick heads.”
He thinks about asking her to
move somewhere, anywhere but near the coast. He thinks about leaving the
country, about flying to Europe maybe or even the States, just
somewhere that is far inland and away from the Pacific Ocean. He thinks
about telling her that he’s afraid, not only for himself, but for her
and their child. He thinks about admitting that he doesn’t know if he
can protect anyone from this.
Instead he signs up for the Jaegar
Program in the PPDC and finds himself in an academy once more, learning
how to fight monsters with monsters.
I’ll protect them, he promises the ocean as the unflinching sun glares down on him, or I’ll die trying.