[VIDEO] post-event

[axemeaquestion]

Hey, so... whoa.

[A bruised and bandaged woman nearly drops her device.]

Shit, sorry. Still getting used to this thing.

[For anyone who met Rochelle before but missed her at the Archives event, she's finally out of her bloodstained clothes. The shirt she's wearing today was crisp white with CRYSTAL BEACH cut out of an iridescent square print in bold letters.

The video straightens out, and Ro attempts to recover gracefully as she sits on the floor and smiles. Her back is against a coffee table littered with history books and moonblessed-aimed welcome pamphlets.]

Name's Rochelle. You can call me Ro. Sorry if I'm still kind of a mess. Better than before, trust me. I worked in TV news before things kinda went to hell back in my... world? World. Shit, that's still weird to say.

I'm kind of coming out of what you'd call a... zombie apocalypse. [AWKWARD GRIN GOES HERE??] And now I'm on a whole other goddamn planet. Still... processing that part. Compared to my life before, though, this is actually... kind of normal. I mean, not REALLY, but seriously. Not looking over your shoulder every damn second of your life makes ANYTHING seem normal. Even getting turned into a mermaid by a hunk of screaming rock.

[That's a weird thing to call Osse, Ro, but okay.]

So I guess my point is... I wanna ask. What does a fresh-out-of-the-apocalypse girl do to adjust to semi-normal life around here? I'm looking into TV network sort of work around here, actually, but otherwise...? I'll give shit a shot.

[Then - she hesitates. The casual attitude disappears, and her smile fades. There's no smooth way of transitioning into this, but...]

And on a more serious note... if anyone here finds three guys going by Coach, Ellis, and Nick... let me know?

I know that's not much to go by, but uh... Coach is a big guy in an FHS school polo. Good guy... NEVER stops talking about food if you give him a chance, though. Ellis is a real yee-haw Georgia type boy. Should have a shirt that says "bullshifter." Don't ask me why. [She laughs weakly at that - then shakes her head.] And Nick... well. You'll know Nick if you meet him. He thought bringing a white suit to a zombie apocalypse was a GOOD idea.

Long story short, they're my friends. We survived a hell of a lot together, and I'm worried about them. I've been looking around everywhere, just in case, but. If you ever meet some guys that vaguely match that description, just... point them my way.

And if it helps... all three of them probably smell like shit.

Comments

[axemeaquestion]

Hey, Simon. [There's a smile in a voice.] Appreciate it, on all sides.

Still pretty surreal to think about "worlds," like some kind of sci-fi interdimensional shit... even though I guess I'm living in it now. Much LESS the fact that some of 'em got apocalypses too. In a weird way, though, it makes me feel a little less alone. That a bad thing?

[Probably.]

Y'know, I was just wondering about you. You ever get that helmet off?

[theseuschip]

Uh, yeah. All good on the helmet front.

[ GOD. you're welcome, future simon, for this gift he's giving you ]

I feel the same way. Think we've earned feeling a little less alone. [ a beat, then: ] You know, a friend of mine said we're from "different timelines". Makes it a little easier to swallow somehow.

[ probably because you're a dweebus who sells comic books, simon ]

[axemeaquestion]

Hey! Good to hear.

So... less interdimensional, more time travel?

[She sounds... a little exasperated by that. Yeah, it's not helping.]

[theseuschip]

Not exactly, but it sounds better.

[axemeaquestion]

Not really.

[theseuschip]

Remind me to poll the network about it.

Are there many people left, where you're from? Unzombified people?

[axemeaquestion]

Thanks.

Not a lot. I went from Savannah to New Orleans, and I met about... ten other people? The military was still around, though. I didn't get a chance to meet 'em before here happened, though.

[theseuschip]

That's a long way. [ a font of wisdom, he is. ]

What about the rest of the world? Could humanity recover somehow?

[axemeaquestion]

No idea.

[Said a lot quieter, sadder. Stuck here, she's not sure when she'll get to find out.]

[theseuschip]

Do you feel like it was just yesterday that your life was normal, too?

[axemeaquestion]

Give or take a week. You?

[theseuschip]

Yeah. Sometimes it feels like home is still out there waiting for me, same as it ever was.

[axemeaquestion]

Me too.

[A pause.

Then she laughs weakly.]

My apartment's not even that nice.

[theseuschip]

Neither was mine, but, well, you know.

[ it was home. ]

[axemeaquestion]

Yeah... I understand.

[Another pause.]

Would you go back if you could? If they actually send us home.

[theseuschip]

Nothing to go back to. The comet took out the whole surface.

[axemeaquestion]

Oh... shit, sorry. I forgot.

[That it was a comet, she means. He told her that much.]

That's terrible.

[theseuschip]

Thanks.

It did mean fewer zombies. Don't know if I'd survive a swarm of those.

[axemeaquestion]

[Ro huffs a weak laugh.]

It takes practice, if it helps.

And a lot of guns.

[theseuschip]

I'm Canadian. I've never even seen "a lot of guns".

[axemeaquestion]

Me neither, until the infection hit Georgia.

Fair enough, though. I'm from Cleveland.

[theseuschip]

So... how close is it to the movies?

[axemeaquestion]

Mm. Some things are right, some things are bullshit.

Ours comes from an infection, so nobody's undead. It's like a... super rabies that makes people crazy. So they run and punch and kick and bite. Also makes them mutate. We got different kinds of infected that do insane shit.

Boomers, for example. They're these big, bloated guys. They like to puke on you, which attracts other zombies. And if you shoot them, they explode on you, which... also attracts zombies.

Long story short, I don't think any zombie movie up 'til 2009 really highlighted how gross the apocalypse was gonna be.

[theseuschip]

That's pretty disgusting.

If they're alive, could they be... cured? I mean, the ones that haven't exploded.

[axemeaquestion]

Yep. [She gestures to the gauze taped down on her collarbone.] You wanna know what this is? Acid burns. We call those zombies "Spitters."

[Simon can probably put two and two together.]

If there's a cure... nobody's found one, yet. Me and my friends were on our own for a while too. Hard to come by news that way.

But believe me, I wish there was.