hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dead Men Walking

Entry tags:

Event Log: Dead Men Walking

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Dead Men Walking event!
Where: All around the city
When: September 14th-September 20th
Warnings: Zombies. Walkers. The Infected. Zeds. The undead. Risen.

Everything seems more or less normal in Hadriel on the 14th - at least at first. But wait, who's that over there? Why are they walking so weird? Are they feeling okay? Wow, did they just try to bite you? Oh shit, you might've seen a movie like this before. That was definitely a zombie.

But hey, it's no big deal. A few zombies here and there are pretty easy to avoid, especially when you can outrun them without too much trouble. They're only really dangerous if they're fast or if there are a lot of them, and they sure aren't fast! Only - well, before long, there are a lot of them. You can hardly go outside without running into one, and mobs form quickly. Went out for supplies? Let's hope they didn't follow you - you might get stuck in that shop, mobile corpses pounding on the door. Oh, and don't stand too close to the windows of your house. They'll be more than happy to smash the glass trying to get you.

Don't worry, though! A hard blow to the head will take these zombies out, and you'll be sitting pretty, as long as none of them bite you. None of them bit you... right? Wow, what a relief. We're all glad you're not concealing a life-threatening zombie bite from your friends! Who would do that, anyway? Now if you can manage that until the 20th, you'll be safe and sound as the zombies shamble out of the city. Hopefully you won't be shambling with them.

► This log covers September 14th-September 20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you join the zombie party, please let us know here!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, since the jig is up anyway... "He can kill those zombies just by touchin' 'em, too. Carlisle, that is--I don't know any green guys."

Firo fruitlessly attempts to use a bomb on a ghost as he adds, casually, "How come you're interested in it? Could they even teach you how to do stuff like that?"

He figures magic, if it has to exist, might be like their immortality in a way. You either have it or you don't. And that's the only reason he can assume that someone would retain interest in it. Momentary curiosity he gets, but not wondering about it enough to seek it out like Sato seems to want to.

"Oh? Well now, I don't know. But wouldn't it be fun to find out?" Sato sounds intrigued, watching Firo continue to make next to no progress in the level, figuring out one touch-of-death after another. Spelunker-man is about as sturdy as a sheet of wet toilet paper. "If nothing else, I'd like to try to understand how it works."

Of course he might have the idea of disabling it in mind more than anything. That shield was really a problem to be worked on.

In spite of himself, Firo finds that he actually does want to keep trying. Just like the other game, it's almost hypnotizing.

He sighs. "You sound almost like some guy I used to know..." Szilard, actually, who is not great company. "I just don't get why you'd wanna bother figurin' out stuff like that. I'm gonna go ahead and guess you've gotten by just fine without it so far."

"True. But we have to change with the times when the new way is better than the old one. Just look at the course of history: we went from swords to guns, from handwriting to the printing press, from horses to cars. You do have cars where you're from?" He's still not quite sure where on the timeline/set of universes Firo falls in, but it's clearly way too early for the 'letters to email' comparison.

"The point is, you have to stay on top of new developments in technology. Maybe technology isn't quite the right word here," he chuckles, "But you know what I mean. Otherwise you'll be left behind."

Firo nods along to the explanation, glancing up as his poor Spelunker dies from lack of oxygen. "Yeah, we've got those."

"Is magic really better?" He frowns. He's mostly being contrary on that point, so he tries for another argument. "Even when it comes to guns and all, guys in my Family use knives more often anyway. You never need to reload, and they don't jam on you."

It certainly seems better in terms of stopping bullets, but that's not the best example to give to Firo. "I don't know, but it'll be educational either way."

This is the first he's heard more details of just who exactly Firo was before he was brought here. Sato doesn't comment directly, but asks instead, "This place that you're from... Do normal humans know that immortals walk among them, by any chance?"

Educational. Firo grimaces--that's never been a great motivator for him to do things.

"Huh? No, not really. I didn't even know they existed until I found out I was one. When people see me come back, normally they freak out and think I'm a monster." He laughs, "And, of course, nobody ever believes 'em if they say they saw a guy come back from the dead."

He hadn't thought to ask before, but now he's wondering about Sato's world. "What about yours?"

"Oh yes. Of course the initial reaction is about the same, since there aren't that many of us. But the difference is that everybody knows immortals are real," Sato explains, still using Firo's simplification over the word 'demi-human'. It's clear they're really quite different things by this point but the main effect is the same.

"And," he says kindly, "Against people who know and have experience with immortality, well... you might want the gun after all. It gets a little tricky otherwise."

Having sufficiently proven he's right, at least in his own mind, he watches Firo's incredibly slow progress. These old games still have their charm, even up against modern AAA development.

At least now he's finally gotten a little farther down into the level, though still missing key items and dying along the way.

Still focused on the screen, he furrows his brow. He's not totally coninced yet. "Why's that? Wouldn't the sound attract more people? I woulda' thought you wouldn't want to call that much attention to yourself."

You know, considering his reaction to being discovered was to shoot a certain totally innocent gangster...

"And if all it takes is for someone to cut off your head, do you really want them getting too close?" Sato smiles, making a rather pointed comment. That one isn't a concern for him but it makes a good point and continues to try to cast himself as knowledgeable, experienced... and hopefully someone that Firo will listen to, someday when he needs a hand with something a little more contentious.

"Well," he adds with a chuckle, "Anyone you don't trust, that is."

"Most people wouldn't know to stop it from goin' back, so that'd be fine. And normally it's not even a problem, if I stop 'em first."

But he didn't last time, did he? Firo winces as soon as he says it, and he hopes it's not too noticeable. He's thankful for the distraction of the game now so that he doesn't have to look up.

Perhaps a little of what Sato's doing is working; Firo, at least, doesn't want to look like an idiot in front of him. So he's quick to add, "It's not like I don't know how to use a gun too or anything. My Family taught me that too. They just cause too much trouble with the cops where I'm from."

"We should get you one," Sato says cheerfully, happy to segue into weapon discussion. "After all, Rey got her hands on a rifle from just putting out a request on the network. A very peculiar one, mind you, since someone seemed to think the combine a shotgun and sniper rifle in one. But I'm sure someone has to have something more practical floating around."

We? That confuses Firo enough to have him glance up for a second--he wouldn't have thought his gun ownership would be something Sato'd consider his problem.

He turns back to spelunking, trying to play it cool, and thinks back to Rey's gun. "How's that even work?" Firo raises an eyebrow, wondering if he should be impressed or just skeptical. And he makes a mental note that Sato seems to know Rey--he has to be curious what they think of each other.

He shrugs. "If anybody had something normal, they're probably not big on sharin' it. I'm surprised she got anything at all."

Sato laughs at that. "I thought exactly the same thing. It seems like just about anything really is possible here. As for how it works, well... quite badly. Or at least, leads to accidents when you're not expecting multiple bullets at once."

He watches Firo continue to try to navigate the level. If nothing else, he'll give the kid the fact that he's persistent. Or at least stubborn. "I think it'll run out of battery power before you even make it to the next screen," he chuckles -- not meanly, but certainly blunt.

Amused, Firo raises an eyebrow. "Sounds like she might've been better off without it." She is a walking human barbecue, after all, so it's not like she's hurting for weapons.

Firo glances up at the remark on his lack of skills--still hitting buttons without looking, so of course he winds up dangerously close to a ledge. He's not offended, considering he doesn't think he needs to be good at this, but he'll play along. Instead of asking how something this small could possibly have a battery in it, he shoots back, “Hey, this was your idea, so you can't complain. Why didn’t you ask somebody who’d be more entertaining, huh?”

Sato laughs. "It's fine. I'll just get it recharged next time I'm out." Pell probably won't mind helping again, he'll just pop by the clinic again.

Actually now that he thinks about it... "Oh. I wonder how much is still open. I suppose most people have boarded up their windows by now." After all, they are in the middle of a zombie apocalypse type scenario.

Damn it. Was he supposed to do that? Firo pauses in place as he imagines what might be happening to Bianca's house right now. At least nobody's there right now--he wouldn't have left them if they were--but he wants to kick himself for not thinking to do something.

Deflect. He forces himself to look back at the screen, though he's still too distracted to actually play. Casual as can be, he asks, "You're not worried about 'em gettin' up here?"

"Firo. We're immortal," he chides lightly. "At the worst, they're annoying. But they're not going to hurt either of us, and they're not interested in anything else." Of course this immediately discounts the situation of anyone who isn't immortal, mind you.

Sometimes he does forget, not that he'll admit that right now. "I know that," he huffs defensively. For about the hundredth time, he wishes he were smart like Luck or Maiza, or at least less noticeably stupid.

"I just meant..." Think think think. Probably no way to get out of this without sounding stupid or soft or both. Sigh. "You don't have any friends up here, then?"

It probably figures that Sato wouldn't have any dependents like Muscovy to worry about--at least, Firo can't see any traces of one. And he can get not caring if random neighbors live or die, but wouldn't most people choose to settle down around friends or acquaintances in a place like this?

Sato pauses. It's a calculated pause though, his expression becoming serious.

"No. No I'm afraid I don't, really. It's difficult to trust mortals, after the terrible things I've seen.

Maybe... maybe you think people are different here. Maybe they are," Sato says, like he really, desperately wishes he could believe it. Pauses again, like he's really baring a little of his soul to Firo, bit by bit. "But once they find out your secret, I've never known of anyone who didn't have everyone turn on them, even friends and family. Even with all the diversity here, I'm sure that there's some people out there that could find a 'use' for an immortal."

He shakes his head, morose, head turned only to the screen to watch Firo continue to play (and fail) at Spelunker. Just a sad old man, all alone in the world with nothing but video games to console him.

Firo shakes his head, dismissive. "People are the same everywhere." And they're mostly awful; he won't question what Sato says he's seen, because he's sure it's true.

He fiddles with a few buttons as he thinks. Bam, death by ghost. "All of my friends became immortal with me." All but one, that is. Firo opts not to think about Claire's eventual fate. "Not to brag or anything."

He continues very firmly, as if he's never considered that there might be another truth than what he's sharing now. Because he hasn't, not since he found the Martillos. "Sounds like you just need better friends, if you can find 'em. If somebody'd sell you out, then they're not a friend or family at all and you shouldn't waste any time on 'em."

It's easy when it's so black and white. Having been put in a position where he chose all of his family, it seems very straightforward to Firo, though many lonely years attest that it's not easy.

"You're lucky, then. I knew a couple other immortals in my world, in a similar situation to my own. Even rescued one fellow from a lab where they were conducting their terrible tests. But I haven't seen any trace of them around here," he says sadly. For all of his own friendly behaviour, he's still feeling out exactly who Firo is when it comes right down to it. "Are any of your friends around? Or anyone that you think is trustworthy here?"

"A lab?" Sounds like something Szilard would do to his fellow immortals.

“None of my friends from home,” he answers, perhaps a little too quickly. Now’s not the time to go getting homesick. As for the other question: “And I haven’t been here that long yet."

How does he even describe what’s going on with Muscovy and Rey? Much as he cares for them, he doesn’t yet know them as well as he’d need to to really trust them.

“Besides, what’s my word matter to you on that? Even if I trust somebody, that shouldn’t mean anything to you.” He says it almost as if he’s a teacher lecturing, because that’s kind of how he thinks of it. That Sato or anyone wouldn’t trust him yet is a simple truth to him. It’s not born of suspicion—just the fact that people shouldn't trust others that easily. It’s survival.

Really, that's almost as good an answer as he could have hoped for.

"Perhaps it shouldn't," he says, serious. "But if you thought anyone here could be trusted, I think I'd believe you. Even though we're from different worlds, with some differences here and there, we're still both special in the same kind of way. Comrades of a sort... or at least I'd like to think so."

There's a distinctly uncomfortable pause there, and although Sato's head is turned to the game screen, he's watching Firo closely.

Firo's not looking at the screen anymore; instead, he's watching Sato and trying to see what he can of his face. He sighs, delaying his response.

"You should really be careful about that kinda thing. You don't know if I'm a bad guy or not." He is a pretty bad guy, considering the whole gangster thing. But what he's thinking of now is if he were the type inclined to betray, which he's not. But how would Sato know that? He didn't seem that naive anyway, but Firo can't really reconcile that with everything he's saying now.

"As for whether we're 'comrades'--" Another sigh, as he's reminded of Ladd and Christopher very forcefully deciding that they were friends. He's never going to get away from this, is he? If he can't fight it, he'll at least have to make sure the guy's informed. Bluntly, "Before you say anything like that, you need to know that if anyone from my Family winds up here, they'll always come first. Sorry, that's just how it is."

Event Log: Dead Men Walking

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I swear I heard sad violins while reading that tag

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