Today, while I was zoning the infant section at work, a visibly nervous twenty-something year old man decked out from head to toe in camo, and varying degrees ‘i spent my morning hunting deer’ dirt, approached me and with great hesitance, asked me if we had any ‘little hangers, small baby hangers.’ Unfortunately, we were sold out. Upon learning this, he thanked me for looking for them anyway, and with a sigh, informed me that ‘he just didn’t want her little shirts to get wrinkled.’
I am so sorry this took so dang long to get to, but it is finally here!!! After this next chapter, we’re gonna focus on some Willow family time with Skipper because we’ll need the happiness, but until then, have fun suffering through this battle @theredwallrecorder@the-redwaller@raphcrow@willzgirl
The rat’s body convulsed
automatically, his jagged teeth chattering sharply as he whimpered in despair.
His brain was telling him to run, to escape the maddening chaos, yet he was
rooted to his spot under a polished table in the quarters of the night club. He
sobbed as he heard wood groaning under the strain of the battle. Magic crackled
in the air, energy rippled and shuddered. The rat felt as if he was being
flattened by it; his very life force being stolen. Sweat dripped down his fur,
clinging to him. He had lost counts as to how many times he had tried to adjust
himself and the slick fur had made him loose balance, made him slip and trip.
He was contemplating peering out from under the dark red table cloth to see if
he could make a break for it, when the table was knocked clean over. He
screamed as he looked up at the carnage.
The nightclub had been torn apart.
Wood jutted out like wicked fangs and gnarled claws. Various kinds of knives,
swords, daggers, and battle axes impaled every inch of free surface like
demonic rose thorns. But far more terrifying were the two beasts battling. The
Lady’s dress was torn, blood dribbling down her matted fur. Her mouth foamed as
she panted, her ears pinned back. Her paws were smoking, the swirls wafting up
towards the ceiling while her flames crackled around the room, lazily crawling
around overturned furniture. The rat had heard that the Lady could control
fire, that she controlled the flames within the Night Club itself. The flames
were the very heartbeat of the club, keeping everything alive and running
smoothly. Or at least that was one of her rumored powers. Some said she was
Vulpuz’s mate, others said that she was the guard meant to keep Vulpuz from
entering the world of the living. Some whispered she had been put there to
protect those who accidently wandered into Hellgates, he had heard of it
happening before once or twice, and every time the unfortunate was safely
escorted to the lush Dark Forests, where the Badger Lords reigned. The pirate
who had been whispering the tale claimed that those who truly did not belong in
Hellgates were always freezing cold and her flames kept them safe and warm.
When the rat thought of it, he often saw the mink Willow Slay or the cute rat
Nivedita suddenly shiver at random moments in the club. Suddenly the rooms
would become hotter until the two looked as if they were going to melt on the
He hadn’t had much of a family life
himself, but when he saw the Lady with Willow and Nivedita, he couldn’t help
the feeling of contentment that swelled up within him. He was immensely jealous
of the bond the three shared, yet every night he found himself in the night
club, caught up in the hustle and bustle, the music, the magic flames, and the
interactions of the patrons. But now his very tail shook with fright as Willow
Slay, eyes glowing red from Bloodwrath, swaggered towards the Lady. Foam mixed
with blood dripped off her sharpened canines and Willow let loose with a roar,
reaching out her right paw as if she were gripping for a throat to strangle.
Wood groaned as the weapons shook, trying to free themselves. The weapons ripped
free already swirled around the room like a swarm of enraged hornets, and the
rat swore he heard them humming with bloodlust.
“My Lady! There’s a patron left!”
The rat whipped around towards the
voice. The rat lady Nivedita was limping towards him, an open wound on her
shoulder leaking blood as she struggled to get to his side. Despite the fear he
was feeling, he blushed slightly as she grabbed his shoulders.
“Get him out of here!” The Lady snarled
as knives whizzed around her head.
“Please come with me.” Nivedita pleaded,
trying to lead him out of the mad house.
“We’ll be killed if we go out there!”
The rat mustered to squeak, shame washing over him. “Erm, at least, uh, at
least let me shield you.”
Nivedita turned, fear striking her heart
as Willow had turned vengeful eyes towards the male rat and herself.
“Willow! Please, this isn’t you!”
Nivedita pleaded. “Please look at me, I promise whatever is happening, whatever
is causing you pain, we can help you. Willow, I love you, please, I don’t want
to have to fight you.” Hot tears dripped down Nivedita’s face. Willow Slay
paused, her breathing becoming more crazed as she gripped her head. The blades
paused in their frenzied storm and the Lady took the time to run for her
“No…I-I must…find…him!” Willow screeched.
“Fight it! Please! We can help you!”
Nivedita’s sobs were laced with hiccups as she collapsed to her knees on the
ruined floors. The male rat wasn’t sure what to do. He had started to slink
away during the confusion, but now he found himself back by Nivedita’s side, a
uncertain paw reaching for her shoulder in what he hoped felt like comfort,
because he was close to passing out.
Willow’s body swayed as if she were fighting a great force
within herself. She threw back her head and howled, red mist circling around
her feet, slowly wafting around her body until she was inside the cloud, her
screams renting through Hellsgates like a demon. The ground shook as the red
mist whipped away from her body, racing out from the ruins of the club. The
building groaned, humming in time with Willow’s wails. Any iron or metal in the area moaned and groaned, shaking as Willow screamed, her hair standing up on end. Nivedita saw the weapons whistling through the air at the last second and through herself over the male rat, her mind turning white as her eyes closed.
came to, Willow was crumbled up on her side, her weapons circled around her in
a protective barrier. Rolling off the male rat’s body, whom she had been instinctively
protecting, Nivedita struggled to get to her feet, about to approach Willow
before stopping dead in her tracks. Stuck in the pose as if she were a statue,
the Lady stood, her back towards Willow, still shielding Nivedita and their
patron. Wicked knives and jagged swords impaled the Lady’s beautiful body like
a cheap pincushion. She gave Nivedita a weak smile before coughing up blood,
dropping down to her knees and collapsing completely, her eyes glossing over. Nivedita began to wail.
Madam Glass Eye blinked and shook her head, looking at her
questioning audience with a slight shrug and sheepish smile.
“Ah, sorry my
dears. I suddenly saw something quite interesting and horrifying with my magic
eye, don’tya know.” She pointed towards the green glass eye. “Right, back to
the story at hand. I’m sure things will work themselves out in Hellsgates
somehow. Now, where were we? Oh yes! Now, there was a great otter holt here in
these woods led by a brave and kind Skipper…”
The only person in my life right now who wears a fedora is a Hawaiian shirt and winter-shorts (khaki) wearing guy who is anti-abortion but makes hanger-baby jokes, and refers to liberals as “human-rights people.” As if… he wants to distance himself… from human rights.
(spoilers for the prequel comic, violence cw, abortion cw)
like whenever you have a narrative like this, a narrative in which a group of women are trying to get away from a polygamous abuser, there will be one that is privileged, that is treated better than the others, that is thee favourite wife, and always, always, she will want to stay.
so inevitably, the moral isn’t “women aren’t objects“ but it becomes “men, treat your property well or it will run away“ and it is scary, disgusting, heartbreaking.
but in fury road, angharad is the favourite, the splendid, the most loved, the first one joe calls for, and in the prequel comic, the only one he is remotely gentle with.
and yet angharad is also the one that wants freedom the most, angharad is the one that hates joe the most, hates him enough to try to get rig of his baby with a coat hanger (also, not feeling the anti abortion vibe i got from that bit, seriously, how dare you imply a rape victim desperate enough to stick a coat hanger up her vagina is killing something that isn’t even alive (tho tbh i can get that as an in universe only thing bc healthy children are so rare but still)) angharad is the one that is furious about her fate (seriously, anyone who thinks that somebody who CUTS UP THEIR FACE out of defiance and spite and a desperate desire to fight back any way possible isn’t a boiling well of well (ha ha) utilised rage, i just don’t know what to tell you), angharad is the one that rallies the others behind the words: “we are not things“
and it’s so important just so important, bc that makes the film follow through, it makes it clear that no matter how gilded the box, how soft the pillows, how clean the container, women are not things things to be had.