bowgunner | third ink ribbon ☢ video + action

[ after a moment, claire sits down in front of the journal's eye. she leaves a steaming mug sitting at her elbow, and has her hair tied back in a manner that can only ever be described as professional. although it cannot quite be seen on-screen, it's apparent from the bob of a pen cap that she must have some manner of notepad on the desk before her. and she's already taking notes.

after a moment: ] Good morning, Luceti. I have only been here for four months, but in this short time one thing has become chillingly obvious. Many of us come from places -- Earths, usually -- ravaged by plague-like diseases. Viruses and infections and all manner of scientific progress gone awry. For a lot of us, it seems these symptoms target the recently-dead or soon-to-be-dead. I've always hated the z-word, but I suppose there's no avoiding it today: quite a few of us have zombie problems.

And -- as I understand it -- this world is no different. At least two of the enclosures have suffered under viral outbreaks. A vaccine was manufactured, right? Are the people involved still around? I want to speak to them. And to anyone else facing this threat here or at home. It's not much, but swapping notes might be the least we can do.

[ she will stay at her post to discuss any necessary topics for a good chunk of the day before setting aside her career in the early evening. although she still doesn't let her hair down, it's in a more relaxed bun when she steps into good spirits. her journal is left at home and her cream-coloured blazer has been traded in for a reddish-pink vest layered over a black longsleeve. she's here for a beer or two and to mingle, eager enough to approach strangers and ask them about their day. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

...Seriously? So fast? How is that even possible?

I...I don't know. But look around us -- how is any of this possible? We have wings on our backs. I think the normal rules have been thrown out the window.

...I guess that's true.

[It's still pretty surreal, but then, she's used to people randomly growing bits and pieces. She's just not used to them keeping their heads in the process. Or not getting her neck bitten off.]

How many of us are there? From... worlds like that.

Plenty. More than I like hearing. There even used to be two others from...my world.

[Two others, huh. Must've been nice. Though not so much if they're not around anymore...]

I've been keeping an eye out, but... nobody from mine yet. Though I guess I wouldn't know unless they were suddenly, like, "Hey! Where's all the Clickers!?"

Which would be a pretty stupid thing to do back home, so nobody would, but hey.

...Who knows. Every world, it seems, manages to produce a few born and bred idiots. [ ... ] Clickers. Sometimes I marvel at humanity's naming conventions.

It actually kind of fits. They can't see, so they make a clicking sound to feel for movement in the air. Like a bat, y'know?

...I've known mutated monkeys that behaved like that. Blind, at least. Less so with the clicking.

...Mutated monkeys.

[Freaky.]

I saw infected monkeys once? But they were pretty normal-looking.

Eliminators. That's what we called them. Well, not we -- but the individuals who created them. I've never seen them, myself. Just heard stories from my brother and his colleagues.

That's messed up. People who screw with animals and turn them into monsters? That's worse than the actual monsters. At least we know some of them must've been bad people in the beginning.

Pretty messed up, yeah. But so are the Clickers, from the sounds of it. I think that's why people like us -- who've seen these things -- need to stick together. Share information. Maybe we won't remember this place, but then again...maybe we will. And every piece of intel helps.

Makes sense.

I don't know that much about the cordyceps,as far as the science-y part goes, but I'll tell you what I can. Hiding it won't help anyone.

Very astute. Hiding things, I feel, only hurts us all in the end. Especially when the things are so macabre in nature.

[For about the millionth time, she wishes Joel was here. He'd know all kinds of things to tell her about the cordyceps.

The easiest way would just be to tell her...

But he said not to tell anyone, and...]

I don't even know where to start. I wasn't even born when most of it happened.

But do you know when it happened? How long before you were born things began?

[ she tries to keep her voice steady; trying not to betray a subtle rage at the realization that this girl has spent her whole life in what claire would categorically call hell. ]

About... six years, I'm pretty sure. I'm 14 now, and it happened 20 years ago, give or take.

[And for her, it's just... normal. This place is what's surreal.]

...Twenty years. [ god. ] And I thought we'd been dealing with outbreaks for a long time, your world has us beat by a decade.

Grim.

That's one way of putting it.

[She has a number of words for it that she prefers, but they're not work-safe.]

The way I hear about it, humanity didn't have much chance. There were mass outbreaks all over the world, all at once. We don't even know where it came from, and it was airborne, so... people just got sick and started eating each other out of the blue.

And no one knows why? Not even now?

Not as far as I know. Not that they'd tell a kid about it, I'm sure.

...I think we both know just how much intel an attentive kid can manage to pick up in the run of...well, anything.

Okay, point. But I think the problem is that not a lot of people do know how it started. And it was so long ago that people don't care about the origin so much as how it can be stopped.

And there are people working on that, right? Stopping it?

...Um. Not... many, I don't think. Not anymore. We just don't have that many resources to work on it anymore- it's all people can do to just survive day by day. But that's actually what I was trying to do before I got here.

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bowgunner - 2013-11-25 14:14 (UTC) - Expand

scootch - 2013-11-26 22:43 (UTC) - Expand