10k (Tommy) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
slingshotting) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kismet_loop_logs2016-08-01 08:55 pm
slingshotting) wrote in kismet_loop_logs2016-08-01 08:55 pm
We all grieve in our own way
Who: 10k
What: One awkward bamf zombie killer arrives.
Where: The West Sector; starting in the Crystal Forest, can be moved as he will make his way around, not just sit on his behind
When: Right here; Right now aka 8/1/2016 moments after his arrival
Warnings: Intro post talks of death and contains spoilers for s2 of Z Nation in first few paragraphs.
The wind blew softly through the trees, the sky above was unblemished. For a night of hell it was beautiful. That beauty only strengthened the guilt, pain, regret in 10k, his eyes cast skyward as he remembered. He remembered the good times. He remembered the blood that fell from her mouth, warm against his cheek, he remembered the feel of her blood as it coated his fingers. He could feel the weight of her corpse on his chest. He told himself he had to stop thinking of her and think of it, that thing was no longer Cassandra. Because every time he thought of her something deep inside him broke, hardened and broke again in a fresh wave of emotion.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and counted to ten while he steadied his breathing and forced his mind to go blank. Aching in his search for the blissful nothing he wanted to feel. It was there at his fingertips, if he could take a few more switches and turn them off he could bury this the way he had buried the rest. He could remind himself that logically it was what had to be done. Logic had no control over the ache of the heart and soul, this was a lesson that this fracking world taught him over and over again.
"Thank you, Tommy...." He could still hear her.
His breath was anguished, no one since his pa had called him Tommy and he shuddered as the force of it hit him. Cassandra was gone, the thing she had become was gone. He had to kill her, the good of his friends who were still alive depended on it. Then another realization took hold, slashed at the ache and tinged it blood red with anger at the edges.
Murphy.... He could taste the copper of anger in his mouth.
If Murphy had not bit her, if he had let her go with the dignity she deserved none of this would have happened. He knew that his anger would have no true outlet because he could not kill Murphy. Not when the fate of the world was at stake, he was not a selfish young man. His resolve, determination and quiet strength would carry him through even the tornado in his veins. Because one day, he would have what he needed most, an end to this insanity and the life of the man who had taken someone special from him.
10k cracked his eyes open at last, his mind settled more than it had been. He could not feel anything but that anger helped steel his insides and had him standing straighter, breathing easier. Till he saw the fog, it was thick, all around him and he sucked a breath in. Instinct had the hunting knife at his waist in his hand in an instant. Fingers fitted perfectly to the handle, his gun would do no good in this when he could not see an inch in front of his face. He heard no sound of any z but that did not mean they were not there.
They had lit no fire, safety came first and no one was much in the mood to sit up and talk. A few hours of rest and then it was on the road again, Cassandra's death had hung over them all, even if not a one had shown a sign of blaming him. He took a moment to get his bearing, mind accessing the scenario he found himself in. Weighed options and thought six steps ahead before he took one step from the spot he had opened his eyes to find himself in. 10k knew no matter what was going on here, the first thing he had to do was find the group and get them all to safety where the fog could not give a z the perfect opportunity.
In a matter of moments what he had thought fog turned into more of a mist, fading out as the vapors let go of their hold and the Crystal Forest came into view, 10k sheathed the knife. He tugged his rifle over his shoulder, fitted it to his shoulder and checked through the scope.
He saw nothing familiar in the distance, he did not know where he was or why he was there but he did know, he had to find his friends. He does not place the rifle over his shoulder but instead holds it steady in his hand. His steps are calculated, rolling them as to avoid making noise and he stopped every few feet to read the terrain through his scope.
What: One awkward bamf zombie killer arrives.
Where: The West Sector; starting in the Crystal Forest, can be moved as he will make his way around, not just sit on his behind
When: Right here; Right now aka 8/1/2016 moments after his arrival
Warnings: Intro post talks of death and contains spoilers for s2 of Z Nation in first few paragraphs.
The wind blew softly through the trees, the sky above was unblemished. For a night of hell it was beautiful. That beauty only strengthened the guilt, pain, regret in 10k, his eyes cast skyward as he remembered. He remembered the good times. He remembered the blood that fell from her mouth, warm against his cheek, he remembered the feel of her blood as it coated his fingers. He could feel the weight of her corpse on his chest. He told himself he had to stop thinking of her and think of it, that thing was no longer Cassandra. Because every time he thought of her something deep inside him broke, hardened and broke again in a fresh wave of emotion.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and counted to ten while he steadied his breathing and forced his mind to go blank. Aching in his search for the blissful nothing he wanted to feel. It was there at his fingertips, if he could take a few more switches and turn them off he could bury this the way he had buried the rest. He could remind himself that logically it was what had to be done. Logic had no control over the ache of the heart and soul, this was a lesson that this fracking world taught him over and over again.
"Thank you, Tommy...." He could still hear her.
His breath was anguished, no one since his pa had called him Tommy and he shuddered as the force of it hit him. Cassandra was gone, the thing she had become was gone. He had to kill her, the good of his friends who were still alive depended on it. Then another realization took hold, slashed at the ache and tinged it blood red with anger at the edges.
Murphy.... He could taste the copper of anger in his mouth.
If Murphy had not bit her, if he had let her go with the dignity she deserved none of this would have happened. He knew that his anger would have no true outlet because he could not kill Murphy. Not when the fate of the world was at stake, he was not a selfish young man. His resolve, determination and quiet strength would carry him through even the tornado in his veins. Because one day, he would have what he needed most, an end to this insanity and the life of the man who had taken someone special from him.
10k cracked his eyes open at last, his mind settled more than it had been. He could not feel anything but that anger helped steel his insides and had him standing straighter, breathing easier. Till he saw the fog, it was thick, all around him and he sucked a breath in. Instinct had the hunting knife at his waist in his hand in an instant. Fingers fitted perfectly to the handle, his gun would do no good in this when he could not see an inch in front of his face. He heard no sound of any z but that did not mean they were not there.
They had lit no fire, safety came first and no one was much in the mood to sit up and talk. A few hours of rest and then it was on the road again, Cassandra's death had hung over them all, even if not a one had shown a sign of blaming him. He took a moment to get his bearing, mind accessing the scenario he found himself in. Weighed options and thought six steps ahead before he took one step from the spot he had opened his eyes to find himself in. 10k knew no matter what was going on here, the first thing he had to do was find the group and get them all to safety where the fog could not give a z the perfect opportunity.
In a matter of moments what he had thought fog turned into more of a mist, fading out as the vapors let go of their hold and the Crystal Forest came into view, 10k sheathed the knife. He tugged his rifle over his shoulder, fitted it to his shoulder and checked through the scope.
He saw nothing familiar in the distance, he did not know where he was or why he was there but he did know, he had to find his friends. He does not place the rifle over his shoulder but instead holds it steady in his hand. His steps are calculated, rolling them as to avoid making noise and he stopped every few feet to read the terrain through his scope.
no subject
"And about weapons, I don't actually have any on me? And I'm not sure that there are any... 'zees' around?" She frowned, tilting her head and unfolding her arms to lace her hands instead and ask, "Cause I'm sorry, but what?"
no subject
Then he stared at her as if her head had turned into a pig, sprouted wings and begun to fly. "Zombies, where have you been an underground bunker? No one alive misses the apocalypse." He did not sound disrespectful but honestly confused, how could someone not know that the world had went to hell and was not coming back any time soon it seemed. The talk of zombies of course reminded him of Cassandra and he idly touched the marks around his neck where she had choked him. Those were faint, as was the gash on his forehead. The rest were hidden under the clothing and virtual arsenal of weapons he carried.
no subject
She could've waited for an answer. She would've---she wanted to, wanted to hear it because even after everything the zombie apocalypse was, just maybe, just a bit much---but for being able to see that the new guy wasn't joking. He was serious ('dead' serious?) and just as surprised as she was. That was answer enough.
“...I stand by the question, but I've got another.”
no subject
"The" He put a minor stress on the world because what else did you call it when everyone was infected, not a part of the population but the whole thing. "Zombie apocalypse started over three years ago. Dead things don't stay dead." It was that simple, you died, you became a Z and if you were lucky, you got mercy. He sounded an edge of bitter, but then judging by his age that meant he had grown into a man in the apocalypse. It was no wonder.
He shrugged after though, there was no changing it from where he was at. He would have to hope the group could get Murphy to California, rather he was able to find them or not.
"Actually, I need to find my friends, you tell me how and you can ask anything you want."
no subject
Sam turned her hands up, attitude apologetic for a beat. A realization had hit her, and every swear word she knew seemed insufficient. “Dude. I'll do what I can to help on the 'friends' front, but before this conversation goes anywhere else I need to know: the zombifying agent---whether it's a virus or whatever---that's caused the zombie apocalypse, how contagious is it?” She wasn't going to like the answer---of that, she was already sure---but still, she had to ask.
no subject
"Everyone's infected...." Translation: HIGHLY CONTAGIOUS, apparently. "No one's sure, Charlie said it was piggy backed on the bird flu. Some say it was made in a lab, that scientists did this to us. That one seems more likely." It was a long sentence for him but her question required words, even spoken. No inflection, no emotion came through, he just said what needed to be said and went silent again to let her soak it in.
no subject
She let that stand a moment, offering a shallow shrug and a small, crooked smile.
“I also don't mean to be rude, but you wanna just give me a minute? Cause there's a call I've gotta make.” Sam held up a hand to show that she would, at least, hold off until answered, turning back to her ride to open its storage compartment. She wasn't overly concerned the movement might look suspicious to her new acquaintance, since she wasn't bending to retrieve anything; her comm drone floated up of its own accord, resembling nothing so much as an especially talented roomba.
no subject
He nodded his head, realizing that her concern of course would be for her friends. She would need to contact them, the motion caused him to look down at his hands and he saw a spot of blood mixed in the dirt. There was a contraction in his heart before he shoved it down. Dark eyes and hair flashed in his memory and he bade them to leave. Now was not the time to be vulnerable.
Then the movement of the drone caught his attention and instinct had his sling shot in his hand readied.
"What....is that a drone?" He had heard of those, weaponized ones at least, those kinds of electronics he liked and he eyed it carefully. She had not given him reason to mistrust her and she had told him she was going to make a call, it made sense she had to use something to do it.
no subject
The girl turned, privately glad that the abruptly out-and-aimed slingshot was only aimed. The drones could probably take a shot without issue (they held up well to being struck with stones and thrown at animals) but there was the risk of ricochet. “Comm drone. We don't really have phones or internet here, so the drones fill in. Text messages, voice mail, regular calls, video chat... and some other stuff, like image and audio files. But for phoning...” She turned her attention back to the drone, addressing it directly.
“Call hospital?” There was notification noise as the channel opened, and immediately, Sam spoke. “Hi, I'm hoping to get a hold of Paian cause I think we might have a situation here? Nobody is currently injured, but still.”
no subject
"Paian here. What can I do for you?"
no subject
When the newcomer came on the line he had to move. His step to the ground was silent, he took a few steps closer to Sam and watched.
Caution written in his form but his sling shot was at his side. He was not aiming it at her or the comm. It all came clear, between her words and where she called. It is not certain rather he is talking to her or himself.
"You think I infected you." Frack, what if he did? He had never considered it because in his world, everyone was infected. What if that was not the case here? Could he have just doomed everyone all by arriving?
no subject
She looked away from the drone to answer, shrugging through “I think you mighta,” before turning her attention back to Paian.
“I asked about the spread of this shit; he said everybody's infected. If whatever it is is robust enough to go worldwide on his homeworld, I, at a conversational distance, could be kinda screwed. If I am, I don't want to share that status with the whole of Haven.”
Sam huffed, half-turning to better address the guy she'd spoken of. “I'm hoping you didn't, but I don't want to take chances with anything like a potential zombie plague. Pardon my French, but va chier and frankly, fuck that noise.”
no subject
"I'd like you both to come straight to the hospital with minimal contact with anyone else. I'll meet you at the front."
Because he doesn't want either of them in contact with anyone else, either. As a Guardian, and the Guardian of Healing no less, he knows he's immune to all forms of illnesses, but that doesn't mean anyone else is.
no subject
He held one out to her after he tied his own. "I'm sorry, I can't change it if you are infected but we can try to save others." His eyes cast down, a wary glance at the drone as the other spoke. Of course, he seemed calm but 10k knew all about keeping your cool when things were less than stellar.
His world had went to hell because of zombies, somehow he landed in this strange place where the virus did not exists and now he had brought it with him. They could tell him it was okay but until he knew he had not infected anyone else, he would not feel okay with his being here in the slightest. It was a weight on his already heavy shoulders. He pocketed his weapons, hooked his back back in place and looked at Sam, waiting for whatever he had to do to not turn this place into a nation of zombies.
no subject
Call complete, she sighed, turned, and took the offered cloth with quiet thanks. Before moving to tie the makeshift mask, she flashed a rueful smile at her new friend. Hell of a first day, she wanted to say, but what would that help? There were better remarks to make. “Not wild about hospitals?” was one. Something (and it looked like unease) had eddied through the new guy's aura at the word, only to be eclipsed by something else through the course of the conversation. That 'something else' was guilt, Sam was certain; guilt edged with other upsets. Something to segue into addressing.
“Normally, I'm not too keen on 'em either. Haven's got a good one, though.”
no subject