third ink ribbon ☢ video + action

[bowgunner]

[ 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. ]

Comments

[scootch]

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.]

[bowgunner]

...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.

[scootch]

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.

[bowgunner]

And no one knows why? Not even now?

[scootch]

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

[bowgunner]

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

[scootch]

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.

[bowgunner]

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

[scootch]

...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.

[bowgunner]

You were? [ she sounds chipper about that. perhaps even impressed. ]

[scootch]

...Kind of? [How does one explain why Joel and Tess would escort a kid across the monster-infested country and not explain the whole cure-for-mankind-in-my-brain thing? Hmmm.] I mean- I guess there's not much someone like me can do, but I'm helping where I can. And trust me when I say they need all the help they can get.

[Considering they keep dying left and right.]