maskormenace | 001 [video

[A video image clicks on, revealing a broad, churlish looking man, in his late 40s but looks like he's in his 50s. His face is world-weary, haggard, with heavy-set wrinkles on his brow. His dark hair is flecked with grey, as is his beard. There's an angry concern in his hard eyes and his jaw is clenched tight. He looks like a man one wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of.]

--goddamn it.

[The video image switches off. That wasn't what he'd wanted to do. A second later, a voice feed starts instead, and there's a momentary pause as Joel examines the device to ascertain it is actually on. He was no stranger to technology similar to this before the outbreak but that was over twenty years ago. Reacquainting himself with technology like this, even after he was shown the ropes by that asshole soldier who escorted him from the lab, is foreign as hell after years of having to live with hardly any technology at all.]

Alright, look-- [A brief shuffling sound of him handling the device, switching it from one hand to the other. When he speaks, it's with a strong Texan accent, his voice gruff and hard.] I got no idea who's listenin' to this but I'm gettin' real sick of this bullshit. Just gonna cut straight to the chase:

First off, I'm lookin' for someone. A girl. 'Bout fourteen years-old. Red-brown hair, freckles, green eyes, scar on her right eyebrow. It's real important I find her. If you've seen a girl who matches this description, tell her Joel is lookin' for her.

Secondly, if the girl I'm lookin' for is here and I find out anyone has so much as touched a single hair on her head, I won't hesitate to hunt you down and pop your goddamn kneecaps off. I ain't messin' around here.

And lastly-- [another pause] I need, uh, need someone to point me towards a place where I can get my hands on some clothes.

[Because the clothes he's wearing right now? Are torn at the seams and shredded. Just in the last hour, he's transformed into a fucking giant bear twice without seeming to have any control over it and his clothes, the only clothes he's got, are now more or less destroyed.

And another pause, filled with the sound of a quiet, preoccupied sigh and the shuffling noise of the device being handled as he switches back to the other hand. Screw it, he'll just address Ellie directly. If she's here, if she's listening, he knows she won't hesitate to contact him. Jesus, he hopes she's alright.]

If you are here, kiddo… just lemme know, alright?

[The voice feeds ends.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, you're in luck! That's my new power here. Generating clothes, I mean—I can't help you find the girl, though it looks like you have that one under control already.

What are the odds.

[Apparently, Kaine was right. That's what the odds are.]

You need anything else?

Ellie doesn't want to leave his side any more than he wants her out of his sights, but she's not worried. This place is safer than anywhere else she's ever been in her entire life. Even at school she was on constant vigilance for assholes eager to beat the shit out of her. Here, she can walk down the street and not think about the knife in her pocket. She hasn't had to fight for her life in weeks and it's a startling but welcomed change of pace. This is how she imagines life before the outbreak was like: peaceful. Unafraid. It's been hard to unwind, stop being so tense at every little noise or suspect everyone is trying to do something against her, but she's getting there. Slowly but surely.

She has a feeling Joel will take much longer.

"No detours. I promise," she says, looking him in the eye. On second thought, but without much thought to it at all, she reaches out and touches his arm. "I'll be back before you know it. In the meanwhile, you can shower, if you want. Not that that's a hint or anything."

She's used to him being a dirty mess. It's just that showers with shampoo and conditioner and soap are fucking awesome and Ellie takes a half hour one every night.

She looked like she could take of herself once the shock wore off.

[ When your from a world were the recruiting age for the military is twelve your idea of the supposed helplessness of youth gets a little skewed. ]

If you're an imPort it sure seems that way. Everyone that comes in just gets a file and not much else in the way of explanation.

Well. I'll not argue the point, as I know little enough about the matter. I'll simply say that it's unnecessary here.

Nope. If you're the protective type, you probably don't fucking want me to.

Yeah.

Alright. Name's Joel.

Gonna assume you're in Heropa or whatever this place is called, too? Know where number seventeen is?

Kinda. We'd escort the dead to the afterlife and look after them there.

['Serve them' is really how it goes, but she doesn't like phrasing it that way.]

...What d'you mean, generating clothes?

[Forgive him. Joel is still trying to wrap his head around this whole superpower thing.]

Yeah, she knows how to take care of herself. Don't mean I like leavin' her on her own, though.

[imPort. What a weird goddamn name.]

Sure as hell didn't explain shit to me, that's for sure. Gonna assume they got my medical details from the military back home.

[That's the only explanation that makes any sense to Joel about how they have an entire file on his medical history. Fucking assholes.]

Look after 'em? What, the dead can't look after themselves in the afterlife?

[What the hell is this conversation.]

Keep 'em fed and warm in Valhalla and make sure they're battle ready when the time comes.

Beats the hell outta me.

[As for needing anything else...]

Well, where there's military, there's laws and regulations - wanna fill me in on what those are? Don't care to find myself apprehended for being out and about outside of curfew if that's the kinda ship they run here.

[Because they sure did back in the Boston quarantine zone.]

Yeah? How do you figure?

[And yeah, he sure is the protective type. When it comes to Ellie, anyway.]

Joel glances down at her hand on his arm. That's the second time she's reached out for him. Dependent on each other though they've become over the months, touch really isn't something Ellie does - sure hasn't done since winter. Sure never hugged him like she had earlier, either; only when she was terrified out of her mind did she ever hug him.

Looking back to her, he takes her hand away from his arm - but keeps a hold of it in his hand for a moment, gives it a tight squeeze. Christ, he's so goddamn glad and relieved to have found her.

"No detours," he repeats firmly.

He lets her hand go, reluctantly, and turns his head away to scope the layout of the place. A shower. A hot shower? That really a thing here? Hot showers and running water? Electricity? Damn well seems so. What a fucking concept.

Eyes back on Ellie, he gives a quick, curt nod. "Keep that-- iPhone thing on you. You're not back in half an hour, I'll be wanting to know where the hell you are. Got it?" He glances off into the house again and adds, now sounding incredulous, "So, this place has got hot water? Actual hot water?"

And I should take your word on that - why?

Sure, and from what I understand anywhere is better than where you're from.

[ Except maybe living behind massive walls to hide from man-eating titans, but no one wants to make this into a pissing contest. ]

I didn't have anything on record but they managed just fine without anything from home. My guess was there was an examine we're not aware of after arrival.

Gross.

I mean like it sounds! I can just... make clothes. Out of nothing. Pretty nice, right?

It's for his sake. She needed to be held in winter, comforted, grounded. But she had tried to be comforting too, before. Joel had been struggling with fever or just passed the hell out, too far gone to notice or remember her holding his hand just as much as she checked his temperature. Right now, she wants him to know it'll be okay. She's not going to up and leave him. Not ever.

"Got it. Look, you can even call me once you're out, if I'm not already back. I wouldn't blame you for spending half an hour in there. Yeah, hot water and everything. It's fucking awesome. Go on."

She pats her pockets to make sure she has her wallet, gives Joel a smile, and starts backing towards the door.

"Back soon."

Bad influence. My daddies aren't here to make me mind my manners.

Not entirely military training though it was soldiers giving it. Basic physical, obstacle courses, swimming, unarmed combat.

Guns only if you're registered.

Remember they expect us to be the good samaritan and act like heroes for them.

[Guns only if you're registered? Good Samaritan? Do what the military wants?]

Yeah, well, screw that.

Edited 2014-06-13 11:13 (UTC)

My thoughts exactly.

That said, I said this to Ellie so I'll extend the offer to you.

You need help, back up, or whatever... Feel free to call.

Believe me, she ain't got manners. Matter of fact, it ain't manners I care about.

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