greatoldjohn | TLV Inbox

[ 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.

[ She scoffs. Community. She's never had that, not really. Individual people, yes. Small groups of them, sometimes. But community... unless her trade network counts, and none of them has to know she's infected now, do they? ]

Sure. I, uh... I can trade with people. Fresh meat for... supplies. Clothes.

[ How much of her life actually changes just because she's infected now? How much of a death sentence is this, really? Is it so bad to wait a few years and see if, maybe, someone finds a cure? ]

[ The scoff makes him huff a laugh of his own; he's not going to judge but he's also not going to cut off the possibilities. The lack of getting infected hanging over your head can change a lot of things. But he'll nod to her comment. ]

Right. And you'll be amazed at some of the great stuff the smugglers bring in.

I'll trade double the usual for chocolate.

[ Honey might be relatively easy to come by, but nothing compares the processed sweets of the past. Maybe it'll taste like utter shit to her now, buy nostalgia is a powerful drug. ]

Is this... what you do? Find infected people and... just talk to them?

[ He was about to dig into his bag before he pauses and nods to her. ]

Pretty much. I think it's important.

[ There's a small squirm back and forth before he moves a few things and pulls out-

A plastic-wrapped piece of chocolate. Just one cube. ]

Welcome to the world, Natalie. Today's your lucky day. And here's proof.

[ She freezes in place for a full second, staring at the candy in his hand. His voice sounds like it's right in her head, all-encompassing, reassuring, caring. She feels as if she'd fight by his side, and sit with him on quiet nights, and explore the wilderness with him just for the joy of it.

Slowly, she lifts her gaze to his, as the rest of the world comes back into focus. ]

My next kill is yours. All of it.

[ He can keep it for himself, or he can use it to help other people the way he helped her. As she reaches out to take the chocolate, she feels lighter than she has in decades. ]

[ He shakes his head and he can't help a slightly wicked-sounding laugh. There's no ill-intent in it, it's clearly just how his gruff voice sounds. ]

Oh no, don't you dare. This is a gift! A welcome to the world. The next kill you make, we'll share. As friends.

[ She hasn't had a real friend since she left Seattle. This is... this could be okay. ]

Is saving my life not gift enough?

[ That gets a firm headshake and a smile. ]

Nah. I do this for me. I don't even know you yet. I didn't do it for you, so it's not a gift. All I did was help you make a decision.

The chocolate is something I'm giving.

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