greatoldjohn | TLV Inbox

[ That earns her a raised eyebrow and once he thinks it's safe, he'll slip out from behind the tree and starts a slow amble towards her.

He's handsome, even if his features are a little rough-hewn, with broad shoulders and plenty of muscle. But the way he carries himself, it's all incidental. He's not here to fight and he's not here to loom and he's not here to bark. Definitely not bark. This man has big dog energy, emphasis on the dog there. Something in his eyes, more amber than brown even in this light, speaks of warmth and safety. ]

I didn't think you were going back to where you came from, no. But... I was hoping you'd come back to where I came from. After all, you've got plenty of time before you [ he does the airquotes on that ] 'die'. Several years if you're smart. Maybe more. Life's...

Life's funny that way.

[ His voice sets her at ease enough that she finally lowers the ruffle all the way. He's not going to attack her because he's also infected. She knows that before he admits to it.

Still, she gives him a sharp, mirthless chuckle. ]

And eat people until I'm so gone I can't remember my name? No thanks.

[ As much as she hated having to kill Travis, she knows it was the right thing to do. She spared him a terrible agony. ]

So... everything in your life revolves around what you eat?

[ He spreads his hands, just... letting that sit there before he moves on.]

And contrary to guardian propaganda, we don't have to eat people. Meat, yes. But half of this city was doing keto anyway before things happened so if you're good at hunting your own deer, it's really not a huge change. Or it doesn't have to be.

Do you want to eat people?

[ He scrunches his nose.]

I don't. I like people.

Everything revolves around me being myself.

[ And staying herself. ]

No, I don't wanna eat people. And I don't wanna feel myself losing my mind. Fuck living if you're just watching yourself die. Fuck being like the fuckers who attacked me. I'm dying as me.

[ He takes a moment to breathe out with a sigh and shakes his head. ]

Everyone is watching themselves die. That's life. We all know, after a certain point, that we're going to die. Now, you can focus on it, make it everything, and waste that life you have left at any point but it certainly doesn't tend to make it last longer, if you catch my meaning.

[ He scratches at one ear. ]

The fuckers who attacked you are fuckers. Some of them because they were too afraid to try, some of them because they gave up when it got hard or because they got bitter. [ He looks at her. ] Or because they decided to kill themselves the slow way. This infection doesn't change who you are: it just adds more factors to life.

And if you give up? You're more like them than you are like who you were before you got infected. You're more like them than someone like me. I mean... I didn't find myself here by accident, you know?

[ No. Fuck this. He doesn't get to do this. He doesn't get to tell her she's giving up, doesn't get to say she gave up on Travis, that he gave up on himself. ]

Fuck you. Who the fuck do you think you are to say all of this shit!

[ It's probably clear to him that her anger isn't just about being infected. It's probably clear halfway across the planet. ]

Someone who know how monstrous people can be without anything special in their blood. [ He pauses as he looks over at her. ] And who decided to make the rest of his life about looking out for people when I got infected.

[ He considers her for a moment before pulling a smallish tarp out of his pocket, spreading it out on the ground before sitting in one corner of it. He'll gesture to the other side for her to sit with him, if she'd like. Because the next thing he'll pull out is some strips of still-bloody rabbit meat. ]

Come on. I'll prove at least one thing to you.

[ It should click in her mind that he's infected and completely rational, but she's too upset for that to happen. Instead she keeps her eyes on him, tensing when he reaches into his pocket, relaxing when she sees it's just a somewhat clean surface for them to sit on.

She hesitated for a moment before sitting too, and watches him as he pulls out the fresh meat--

And tenses all over again when the urge to devour it threatens to overcome her. Her hands grip the shotgun until her knuckles go white. ]

[ Which is when he looks up at her, raising an eyebrow. ]

Look at that. I can hold this. And you can stand there. You want it... but you aren't jumping me for it. Or shooting me. Or anything else.

[ He holds out the pieces of rabbit meat. ]

You'll feel better once you have it. And then we can talk. Once you understand your hunger and how to handle it.

That you can handle it. It's just something you want, miss. It doesn't make you a different person.

[ She's not jumping him for it because she's not that far gone yet. ]

It will one day, [ she says, but now instead of just hard anger, there's a bit of doubt to it, space to at least listen to him.

Her eyes stay on him as she takes the meat. She expects to find it slimy and nauseating, but it's satisfying instead. That should be horrifying on its own, but it isn't, not as much as it could be. She's still convinced using the shotgun is the way to go, but she'll hear him out, at the very least. ]

I'm listening. [ She lays the shotgun by where she's sitting, putting the safety on before she lets go. ]

[ He licks his own fingers before he shrugs. ]

If the world was how it used to be, 'one day' you'd be old and gray too. It's not a reason to shoot your fucking face off.

[ He turns his hand towards her, now clean. ]

You're not losing your shit right now, right? I'm not losing my shit. Look at the two of us: functioning like people. Yeah, maybe that'll get harder. But that's no reason to cut things off *now*.

[ He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He'll offer it to her, and if she refuses, he'll tuck them back away before taking one. If not, he's taking one and offering a light for her too. ]

Maybe someone will figure out a cure for this shit in three months. Maybe we get back and you meet someone who makes you see stars every night. Maybe you figure out you really like macrame. Who the fuck knows?

[ He looks over at her. ]

There's some people who say everyone on earth ought to blow their brains out, that it's just a matter of time. [ A huff. ]

...those people are fucking stupid.

[ She takes the cigarette, enjoying that first drag so much she almost forgets an apocalypse happened and she's infected now. Almost, until he keeps going. ]

Who's got the time to try to find a cure? Who's got the labs for it?

[ She's not looking to see stars with anyone anymore. She won't be seeing Misty again. She really has just been waiting to die since she left Seattle, but... ]

If I'm gonna die anyway, I wanna choose when and how. Yeah, okay, you can live off animal meat until this eats enough of your brain that you can think. But now you're on someone's kill list. Why even bother living if you're just hiding all the time?

I know of at least two people still working in our city alone. Of course people are working on it. Only the loons want things to stay like this forever.

[ He'll smoke his own amiably enough. ]

There's places to live you don't have to hide in. Places where you can be among your own, where you won't feel that urge so often. You think you're the only one wanting to choose where and how?

[ He shakes his head. ]

Plenty of us have arrangements, people looking out for us. Looking out for us, I'll repeat, as opposed to trying to catch us. We look out for each other, look for the signs, and we honor people's wishes. It's support, not a witch hunt.

[ "Among your own" sounds so alienating, but hasn't that been her life since leaving the Guardians? Alienated, belonging nowhere but on her own. And he's not talking about some idealistic fantasy where all the infected want it out for goddamn years in the hope that someone will find a cure. When it's time to die, it's time to die.

Natalie sits very still for a few seconds, thinking it over. What he's saying is that she can choose hope over death. What he saying is that Travis stood a chance, but neither of them knew that. Neither of them even thought about the possibility, because the Guardians had them surrounded by propaganda and guns.

Tears fill her eyes. The burning ember of her cigarette slowly creeps up toward the filter, ash falling on its own weight as she ignores it. ]

How the fuck do you even hold onto hope.

[ It's not angry; the question is flat and defeated. The adrenaline rush from the attack is gone now. It's just the two of them and this conversation. ]

It helps to have more than two hands.

[ He says those words gently.]

But even when you don't, what's the alternative? [ He looks around.] Nothing. The end of a barrel.

After all the shit you did to stay alive, [ There's no specific accusation here; anyone who's still around made effort to do so, after all ] all the people who didn't make it... and you're going to throw away even one day of that?

You already paid for it: why toss it early?

Edited 2023-03-16 16:49 (UTC)

[ The promise she and Travis had made, to kill the other if they became infected, was to spare the one the suffering of watching the other slowly die, and to prevent spreading it, and so whoever was infected didn't have to live knowing there was this barrier between them. One would die so the other could live. She's the one who lived. If it had been Travis who lived, if it were Travis here right now with this stranger, someone offering her even a tiny sliver of hope... she would would want him to take it. Because she wouldn't want him to give up. Continuing to live was part of their promise.

She's used to being alone, and loneliness doesn't hurt the way it used to at first. That's not why she hesitates. It's just... why should she? She's really only as good as what she can do, and there's no way she's the only one who can hunt. Maybe her connections are valuable enough? Does she even want them to be? Maybe not, but maybe Travis would. He chose death rather than to bring her harm. Would dying here and now be throwing away the chance he gave her? ]

Because you're tired. I'm tired. I lost... everything, to this disease. Going on living just means losing what little I have left.

[ He listens. He isn't going to talk over her, ignore what she's saying. But he's heard this before: of course he has. ]

Of course you're tired. You've been trying to survive all this time.

Now, well... you know your time is limited. And you know the worst has happened. You know the biggest threat there is, the Infected, aren't coming for you.

Now you get to try to live. Think about all the things you can do now, without that hanging over you're head. Hell, if your the altruistic sort, think about all the good you can do... carefully, of course.

I lived in fear more before I was Infected than I do now.

Edited 2023-03-16 20:08 (UTC)

[ To live, and to do more good than she ever could've as a Guardian. To feel hope for the first time in so long. To do what she's been doing since leaving the compound, only without fear of getting bitten. To be able to choose, and to remember every day that it's what Travis would've wanted for her. ]

I, uh... [ a shaky sigh ] I guess-- I could go, with you. I don't have to die right away, right. It's, uh...

[ It's what he would've wanted. ]

It's better not to die alone. [ Another sigh, then she remembers her cigarette and takes a drag. ] So... who are you?

John Doe.

[ He dips his head to her in greeting. Then he huffs a laugh. It's a slightly wicked sort of chuckle, but there's nothing but mischief in his eyes as he shakes his head. ]

Yes, I had another name back when, before I got bit. But I decided it'd be different once that happened. Figured I'd aim for 'nobody' and work my way up from there.

[ He offers his hand. ]

Nice to meet you. And you are?

[ She reaches out and shakes his hand. ]

Natalie Scatorccio. Never met a John Doe before.

[ How many even were there, before this virus wiped out so much of humanity. ]

That's cause most people who go by the name are dead or don't remember who they are.

[ He says it terribly cheerfully. ]

You've probably seen a few John Doe's. Which is kind of what I aim for. Nice to meet you, Natalie.

[ John Doe. A nobody, an anybody. Wandering around, offering people... perspective? Hope? Both?

Natalie manages a small smile. ]

Nice to meet you too.

[ He takes a moment to glance around. Then he takes another drag.]

So you live out here? Or were you planning to live out here?

Edited 2023-03-22 05:07 (UTC)

Been living out here for a while. Found a little building with four walls and a roof, turned it into a house.

[ The only thing that would've made it better was... well. Nothing. Maybe living out here with Travis. Maybe that's what they should've done instead of stay with the Guardians out of fear. ]

It's nice. Quiet. Or it was, until today.

[ That's a slow nod back from him. ]

You can always stay out here if you want to. I'm not trying to ask you to abandon your home, just so we're clear.

But I would like to bring you to the Underground. Get you acquainted so you can get what you need. Have community.

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