@cjk [ audio ]

[signifies]

Hello everyone. My name is Clark. I'll try and keep this brief.

Firstly, I've drawn up a blank list and placed one on the bulletin board on each housing floor. If those with medical expertise feel comfortable, they can put their name, residence here, and — if they have one — specialisation, in case of an emergency. We have several residents who aren't from the same point in time, so if you'd like to volunteer to update someone's medical knowledge, please mark your name with an asterisk.

Secondly, ah-- [ a bit of a laugh. ] I'm from Kansas, which some of you might recognise as being host to some pretty bad weather. Now, I'm not going to say I'm paranoid, but-- I like to think ahead. So, I've made up some kits with some of the usual survival paraphernalia back home and distributed them between floors. Feel free to help yourselves if you need them.

[ No one has to use them, but he’d rather everyone knows they're available. ]

Thank you for your time.

( all replies in audio unless otherwise stated )

Comments

[pundemic]

At least, yeah. More if there are any cliffs around or anything. And it should have a decent weight limit.

[She eyeballs him curiously, reaches out to poke at him. He's mostly muscle, but he hasn't given her the impression he ever had to skip a meal out of necessity rather than choice.]

You're, what, 230? You're probably one of the bigger guys here, so I'd say at least triple that just to be on the safe side. Maybe... I dunno, half inch nylon?

[signifies]

I haven't seen any cliffs.

[ Of course she's assessed the size of everyone, and her mind determined how best to attack, or hide, should it be necessary. ]

And last on the list, dental floss? How much of that do we need?

[pundemic]

Flashlights. Shake-to-charge, those too. Dental floss is just-- eh, a few containers? They're small and it's useful, go nuts.

[Her eye's been caught by a bike. Nothing fancy, just something in a dark purple blue strung up in some sort of hanging shelf. The air smells like fresh rubber and she wanders towards it in absentminded curiousity.]

[signifies]

[ He follows her, tucking his hands into his pockets on reflex.

Then he realises he should probably keep them in her view, and they hang loose at his sides. ]

See something you like?

[pundemic]

[She doesn't quite spook, but she'd been lost in the moment and when he draws near to her space she sort of sidesteps aggressively.

And then busies herself inspecting the tires so it looks like it was on purpose.]

Huh? Oh-- nah, it's just been a long time since I've seen a bike. I mean, one you could actually ride.

[signifies]

[ Maybe he should wear a bell. ]

Do you know how to ride one?

[ They seem like they'd be more useful than cars or trucks. ]

[pundemic]

[She spins the front tire aggressively with her fingers. It rotates freely, from where the bike is hanging in its storage rack, with a pleasant sort of whir.

Then she gives him a Look.]

Yeah. It's not like they just stopped existing after the Infection, it's more like... you blow a tire, break the chain... that's it. You're never gonna get another one. Rubber's rationed to the military, they use it for their tires, so-- who cares about bicycles anymore.

[signifies]

[ It's not like anything stopped existing. People just focused on something else. ]

What about cars? A lot of those, or 'reserved'?

[pundemic]

[She huffs out a breath. She doesn't mind answering, of course, it's mostly the fact that it's just so much to fucking explain.]

There's abandoned ones all over. Most of them, you know... engine block's seized, tires are rotted, no gas, no battery, frame's rusted out. Sometimes you find one in good shape. Like... if people had a garage, or something. But that's only outside the Quarantine Zones. If there's a vehicle inside those that works, it's military.

[signifies]

[ He nods. ]

What about the news? Just updates on the weather?

[pundemic]

If you're lucky. Mandatory radio announcements we have to listen to at certain times of day, mostly automated stuff. No real newspaper. Uh-- there's, you know, an underground that passes out pamphlets. The Fireflies. They want to restore the branches of government that the military sort of... shouldered out, I guess, but there's not enough support to make it happen.

[She steps away from the bike, and shakes her head. Maybe in another life.]

C'mon, let's grab the rest of the stuff and get outta here.

[signifies]

[ It's no way to live, but what's the point of dwelling? If it happens on his world he'd like to think humans find a way.

Clark looks at the bicycle. Maybe soon.

He follows her. ]

Flashlights up ahead.

[pundemic]

Cool. Grab a bunch.

[Meanwhile she picks up a pack of AAs for herself. Her walkman could use a fresh set. Once she's satisfied they have all they need, she steers him towards a check-out.]

So what are you, a boy scout? You know all about camping and survival gear... was Kansas really that bad?

[signifies]

Never made it past my first merit badge.

[ He would've liked to feel part of something, but it didn't fit. ]

I travelled for a little while before I found my current job. Wanted to see the world.

[ If his father had been right, that human beings weren't ready. If someone got too close or realised there was something off about him, Clark could disappear. ]

[pundemic]

Ever been to other continents? Europe, Asia?

[When the Infection happened, and they lost the abilty to maintain boats or planes as humanity fought itself into the ground just to survive she has no fucking idea what's happened overseas. If somebody else found a cure, or is finding one now. There's too much disconnect. She still hopes that these people she's never met in these places she's never been have managed okay.]

[signifies]

[ Flying over them probably doesn't count. ]

No, just North America. I liked Canada a lot.

[pundemic]

[She wrinkles her nose as the teller scans their items.]

Then you didn't 'see the world'. You saw like. A tenth of it.

[signifies]

Think of it this way. Now that I'm a reporter, I might get paid to travel.

[ So, he wins. ]

[pundemic]

You mean here, or back home?

[She doesn't really understand the fundamentals of reporting, not the way it exists in his world. She gives him a curious look as she hands over her bank card to the teller. She's rationalizing that he probably bought the rest of the stuff and also: what does money mean to her, exactly? Nothing at all.]

[signifies]

Back home. It's called being a foreign correspondent. They send you somewhere, and you report on what's happening. Sometimes, it'll be in the middle of a war zone.

[ The first casualty of war is the truth. Lois always said she threw her training wheels off embedded with the 1st Division. ]

[pundemic]

[The purchase gets rung up, her card charged and their items relegated to several bags. Ellie grabs a few of them for herself, but tarps are heavy and those get left to Clark.

Somehow, that actually... puts her more at ease. It gives him a reason to have known some of the stuff he did. But she still wrinkles her nose.]

What the fuck was there to fight about back then?

[signifies]

[ He smiles, wryly, carrying the bags out. ]

Oh, a lot. Land. Money. Sometimes just to show you can.

[pundemic]

[She makes a noise that's caught between exasperation and utter disgust.]

Figures.

[She hasn't figured out how to articulate the fact that she likes humans - you know, individual people - but doesn't really think all that much of humanity.]

But you're not a soldier, right? [She chews on her lip.] Ever get shot at?

[signifies]

[ He nods. ]

I have been shot at.

[ It didn't bother him that much. He doesn't even feel bullets. ]

If you're a good reporter, you should be making a few people angry.

[pundemic]

[She's unspeakably angry, all of a sudden, at all these people who had a perfect world and who were going out of their way to ruin it. How fucking stupid they must have felt when it was like, oh yeah, your arbitrary rules? Your borders? Your differences? They don't fucking matter at all. Everyone gets infected the same. Everyone dies the same. It's all just-- petty bullshit and her heartrate jumps to fight-or-flight fast at the thought of it.

It's not like they could have known. It's not like they had warning. But Clark's a good guy, and no one should have been shooting at him, and if humanity had been even a little bit more capable of working together maybe a good eighty percent of them wouldn't have fucking died.

She has to breathe. Shit, shit, if she doesn't breathe she's going to just stop being able to function right here in this stupid store beside their stupid automatic doors. Breathe, Ellie.

And she does.]

What's it-- [damn her strangled voice.] What's it like? Being a reporter.