[ still, she hopes it's actually him. she might have realized she'd completely misunderstood his name when they met and spent a little longer than she'd planned in looking him up.
only to learn that he's literally a number. ]
I don't know many dogs that can keep still long enough to make it happen.
And not all. Pretty sure most cats and dogs don't dress like that, though. Why am I watching this again?
[The biggest unsolved mystery of all is why anyone would be contacting him. He hasn't made many friends here, and what few he has don't seem like the cat video type.]
It sounds like you're trying to say my company is valuable.
[Theeeere's a hint of that sense of humor. Talking over the phone, though? He hesitates, not only because he's unused to using the Fluid, although that's certainly part of it, but he didn't think she was serious about paying him back for being a listening ear. Theoretically, it's all right. They could do that thing normal people in the old world--and even a bit in this world--do and... chat. Or whatever.]
If you want.
[What do. Hm. Ultimately, after some delay-- Ring ring, Wanda.]
[ there might ... even be some hesitance on her end. perhaps it was she who suggested the call in the first place, mostly out of convenience for her own rummaging of her fridge and pantry, but she hadn't thought it the way through in the actual conversation bit.
because she's not exactly great at this part either, with all that she confines herself indoors, especially now that she's imposed her own limitation on who she's reaching out to since she's shaken some friendships recently.
at least there's still a lack of visual that he can't see her gnawing a little at her lip as she squints to herself, raising up her own hand like what now, wanda? ]
So you're an apocalypse boy. With that kind of life, there must be something you've always wanted to try, right? To eat.
[At least he knows he has the right person. He hasn't met anyone else with Wanda's accent. Of course, the trade off to hearing her voice over the phone is that she has to hear his, long pauses and short answers and all... Look, he's never going to be great at talking someone's ear off. Unless she wants to ask him about firearms.
Just going to let that initial silence drag on, hi, hello...
Fortunately, he's saved from resorting to his own personal brainstorming session on what to follow up with by what she coins him. Apocalypse boy. It's close enough to "nature boy" that he makes an amused sound.
[ wanda's not quite the conversationalist herself either, but at least she has the benefit of relying on her usual savior here — food.
besides, he might just hear some light clangs of metal, various pots and other kitchen tools, that could answer his question before she even has a chance to. ]
I am. And with what I have in my fridge, you can have your choice of tulumbe or palachinke. Maybe even krempita.
[ she pauses, trailing off as she realizes herself and the fact that most people wouldn't recognize those terms. ]
Or we could simply go with something like chocolate chip cookies.
[He just assumes she's being really nice out of guilt for nearly spilling his brain matter on the street that one time... Which is, like, maybe fair in some cases, but he's an apocalypse boy as she well knows. That's about par for the course.
Admittedly, though, baking from an actual person sounds way more appealing than what the Bettys have to offer. Even if the only item on Wanda's list he can identify is cookies.]
Those are... desserts? [??? ?] I mean, um. I'm not picky. We didn't get a ton of time to stop and bake something, either. I like oreos?
[ though it’s hardly any actual trouble at all. it helped to keep herself busy, to keep her hands doing something, and maybe for a time, after recent circumstances, it was better to have them do something that didn’t require magic. ]
Um, yes, sorry. [ she gives a small nervous laugh, shaking her head more for herself considering the audio. ] They’re desserts more familiar to home. Sokovia — small country in Eastern Europe. [ since most people never seem to know of it. ]
But oreos. I think I could do something with that. [ she’ll probably have to do some improvising, but she’ll get there. ] So what did you mostly eat out there? Fruits? Nuts?
I'm getting that sense. [Rather than elaborate--] I was having trouble on my end nailing down the accent. You're a long way from home.
[Well, technically speaking, one could argue they both are. For an American boy born and bred, he's a tourist in pre-Z America.]
What, out on the road? Yeah, if they're around. Meat's not--I mean, it wasn't safe and most stores were picked clean the first few years when there were more mouths to feed.
[Of course, that had all changed after Black Summer when the majority of the population died off in droves.
On the bright side, if you could call it a bright side, there'd been more packages of unopened cookies waiting to be discovered. The best he could do with no mother to do the baking in a while.]
Well, I had been living in New York for about a year before all of this. [ with a lot of global travel by quinjet a few times here and in between. ] That sort of became "home" on accident.
[ she works her way around the kitchen, shuffling through for flour and sugar, balancing her attention between gathering ingredients and listening in on his explanation. ]
First few years? Just ... just how long had you been out there?
The... old New York. Pre-Z? [Tentatively singling out which New York she means. Other worlds still give him a headache, but he's guessing she doesn't mean the gutted city he'd haunted for a while before landing in Sleepy Hollow.] I've been there. Can't say I ever made it as far as Europe.
[Compared to Wanda's international travel, he's a homebody--which, yeah, might have had something to do with air travel all but ceasing to exist when things got bad.]
Oh. The outbreak was about eight years ago. Sorry, did I mention that? Zombie apocalypse.
[You know, the fun, quirky cousin to your standard issue alien invasion apocalypse.]
It’s been through a fair number of alien attacks, but I’d say it’s still the same “old”. [ at least it’s reminiscent of everything she’s known of new york, even if she knows it more in its restoration since most of it had been degraded to rubble.
did he says eight years? ] And what year was that?
[ she’s understood that sometimes people’s worlds here could differ immensely from one another but eight years still felt a bit expanded for apocalyptic survival.
plus, there’s the — ] Zombies. [ she repeats it like maybe that might make it a little more real. ] And you’ve survived all that time, just — hiding from them? Taking them on?
[That's the sound of him perking up on the other end of the line. Back up, she has aliens? Like, real aliens? He needs this story.
Witches and aliens and cats in costumes. What will they think of next?]
20...15. [It's been a while since he's thought about the before years, he has to remind himself for a split second. It's the year his dad died, and that's enough to want to forget it. Unfortunately for Wanda, Zs have long since become old hat; he sounds less like one marvelling and more "weatherman discusses weekly forecast" about the whole affair.] Yep. Zombies. I kill them--that's what my name means. I'm going to kill ten thousand zombies.
[That's a thing he sure said with a straight... voice.
There was also a years-long road trip from hell and more world-ending events and a cure in there, too, but. He's trying to ease her in.]
[ it's almost strange to tell the story since it became such a worldwide event that most everybody was familiar with, but she's gathered that experiences really hadn't progressed the same for everyone here. ]
A few years ago, these enormous whale-like creatures came from a portal in the sky. They dropped an army of alien-like monsters across the entire city — the Battle of New York, they called it. Almost destroyed everything if the Avengers hadn't stopped it. [ oh, he might not know about them, either — ] A group of super-powered humans. [ plus a god. ] I wasn't there for that fight. I didn't join them until we fought the world-dominating robots.
[ which was technically her fault, but that's another story.
but he has a far more interesting story to tell now, from her point of view, intrigue when he provides a more definitive explanation. ]
That's quite a goal you've set for yourself. I'm sure you've been asked plenty, but what's your current count then?
[ because honestly, ten thousand zombies is ... a lot. so it wouldn't be more than maybe a few hundred, right? ]
But I'm from 2016, so it looks like I missed the apocalypse all together.
[If he sounds startled and, to be perfectly honest, amused by the summary of events, that's because he is. In spades. Wild.]
I thought you were kidding about the spaceships. So Roswell. Area 51. That's all real?
[Yes, that's where his mind drifts when told of alien monsters and super-powered humans and robots. His answer is hardly a drop in that bucket, and he provides it off-hand.]
8201. [Down to the kill and the letter.] I'd say you're lucky, but it sounds like your world has gotten weird, too.
I don’t know anything about Area 51, but the aliens are real. Most things that people didn’t believe to be real have been proving themselves over the past decade — extraterrestrial life, advancement of artificial intelligence, and … magic.
[ which is, of course, her territory.
but if she’s managed to surprise him, he does the same in turn, a sudden surprised sound escaping her. ]
Over eight thousand? [ that’s ... a lot of kills. ] I guess we do both have our brand of weird.
[ she pauses, doing a little math in her head. ]
Eight years from 2015, I’d be — in my thirties, by then. I wonder if I could cheat my way that far with magic. I’m not a good runner.
[Really? Don't go teasing him with baked goods and cryptids now.]
When you put it that way, I bet you could get to ten thousand if there was something you wanted to kill--I mean, or I guess... do. Not everyone can hit a target, but definitely not everyone can do magic. [Like... anyone, at all.] At least where I'm from. If you have time and you can keep count, you can do anything.
[...]
You could bake ten thousand of--what did you say? Krempita?
[..........]
I don't know. People tell me you shouldn't talk about a woman's age.
Of everything, is that who you're so eager to meet? Bigfoot?
[ talk about a certain kind of dream. it's the sort of "strange" that seems to suit him, though.
but it's kind of nice how genuine he seems about giving her that confidence boost. it's almost sweet. ]
When I was learning to control my powers, I would start with trying to lift these small toy blocks. And I would count for days and days just how many I could keep in the air longer than five seconds. Not exactly exciting, but —
[ but she did count. even if she stopped for a time once it became evident that she could move just about anything without much effort at all.
she smiles though, when he makes an effort to pronounce the dessert like she had. ]
I think I could make that a goal. Ten thousand slices of krempita. But if I do it, you're the one who's going to have to eat it all.
And I think that's just a rumor. But it's sweet that you're considering politeness.
Hey, 10k. I don't think we've officially met. I'm Dana. Wanda's friend. Well, friend and roommate, technically. I live in that house with her.
Anyway, I thought you might want to know that she's back. Alive. Alive and back. Apparently, dying in this place gives you some pretty bad flu symptoms, so she's been resting at home, but
To tell you the truth, I'm a little worried about her. She hasn't come out much, and I know she's not alone because she has the cat in there with her, but I think a visit from a friend might cheer her up. A friend who isn't me, that is. Not that she's sick of seeing my face, because she'd never say it even if she was. Just sick in general. You know what I mean.
Okay, this is too long already so if you've skipped to the end first: hi. Wanda's home, if you want to stop by.
[Fun fact: a cat will eat a dead body. One of many thoughts that cross his mind at a text from roommate Dana, not business casual Dana.
He both appreciates and dislikes phones. On the one hand, they tempt him to make that call to Wanda he has yet to go through with, because what can anyone say into a speaker about a world that both profits on and exploits death? And on the other hand, a text means he gets the message quickly and can let the relief seep in.]
How long has she been there?
[Sorry, Dana, it's not you. He runs out of disc space for wordiness when there's a lot of internal processing happening.]
[That's him, Mr. Fun Trivia, here to lighten up the deaths of mutual acquaintances.]
Thanks for messaging me. I went to your house before, but I didn't knock. Didn't know if I should.
[That is, if he should knock and officially meet Dana by asking if her dead friend isn't so dead anymore. Hard to say if that would've been an easier or harder conversation than this.]
I can come over if you think she'd be all right with me being there. [He wrestles with whether to add what comes next.] Did you see her on the TV?
[Because if she had it might explain, in part, why Wanda might not be bouncing back up after the slow and painful way she went down.]
[ everyone's got to play their part in this town, right? ]
Well, if you knocked this time, chances are at least one of us would answer. Maybe don't ring the doorbell. I'm trying to let her sleep as long as she can.
I think she'd want to see you. [ not that she knows 10k from adam, but she's heard wanda speak about him enough times to have an understanding, if not a whole picture. ]
No. I was in there too, around the same time she was. I didn't find out what happened until I made it out.
[ by literally having a tree fall on her and having to be carried out by a willing friend, but she won't go into those details. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
4/10 A package.
There's no note.]
text— un: scarlet
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Is this for me?
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The video is. I'm still working on obtaining cat, duck, roomba, and shark costume for the full live reenactment.
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Okay, he'll bite.]
No dog?
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only to learn that he's literally a number. ]
I don't know many dogs that can keep still long enough to make it happen.
Are you against cats?
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[This is a strange conversation. Hi, Wanda.]
Not in theory. That one seems mean chasing a defenseless duckling.
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You have a dog?
What's her name? 12? 4879?
[ yeah, she caught on to your numbering tactics, sir. ]
And where's your proof that the duck is so innocent?
This could be the cat's justified revenge.
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I don't know, a spaceship seems like overkill to me.
[Spoiler alert: this is the first time he's seen a roomba in action. Verdict: surprisingly inefficient.]
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[ and normal. the most ordinary thing about him, thus far. he's definitely got some surprises. ]
Are spaceships always that miniature where you're from?
[ not that it doesn't look like one, but it's not even flying. ]
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I'll let her know you think so.
And not all. Pretty sure most cats and dogs don't dress like that, though. Why am I watching this again?
[The biggest unsolved mystery of all is why anyone would be contacting him. He hasn't made many friends here, and what few he has don't seem like the cat video type.]
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Read the title again and tell me why you wouldn't be watching it.
It's the cute kind of weird. I thought you'd like it.
[ there's that word again. is she calling him cute or weird? a combination of both? surely not.
mostly, wanda's own range of friends has been limited as of late, and she very much doubts this is the sort of thing lilith would care about.
besides, under the influence or not, she knows he's got some sense of humor in there. ]
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[There are so many ways to take this.]
Thanks for thinking of me.
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[ possible answer: she saw a cute weird video and thought of the cute weird boy. ]
Actually, I'm the one who wanted to thank you.
For the other night. For trying to make me feel better.
You didn't have to.
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[Either way is kind of flattering. He's stopped expecting to hear from anyone after the first meeting.
Comes with the territory of most people, y'know, dying horribly.]
Did it work?
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[ she's stopped feeling like she's in a constant pit of despair, at least. for the moment, anyway. ]
I wanted to return the favor somehow.
I'm kind of a baker. But I didn't know what you like.
[ or his possible allergies, but that's a strange thing to ask. ]
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[Pits--good things to avoid both literally and metaphorically.]
Anything but brain biscuits. But you just did return the favor, with the video. I can say I've never seen anything like it before.
[And it'd be the truth.]
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Either you're very easily satisfied or you're terrible at measuring equal exchange.
[ not that she wouldn't agree of the high quality art that video provides. ]
Is it alright to switch to audio? I can look at what I have stocked to see what I can make from it and you can give me your approval. Playing it safe.
Since you already ruined my brain biscuit surprise.
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It sounds like you're trying to say my company is valuable.
[Theeeere's a hint of that sense of humor. Talking over the phone, though? He hesitates, not only because he's unused to using the Fluid, although that's certainly part of it, but he didn't think she was serious about paying him back for being a listening ear. Theoretically, it's all right. They could do that thing normal people in the old world--and even a bit in this world--do and... chat. Or whatever.]
If you want.
[What do. Hm. Ultimately, after some delay-- Ring ring, Wanda.]
Like this?
[...]
... Hi.
[This is surprisingly awkward.]
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[ there might ... even be some hesitance on her end. perhaps it was she who suggested the call in the first place, mostly out of convenience for her own rummaging of her fridge and pantry, but she hadn't thought it the way through in the actual conversation bit.
because she's not exactly great at this part either, with all that she confines herself indoors, especially now that she's imposed her own limitation on who she's reaching out to since she's shaken some friendships recently.
at least there's still a lack of visual that he can't see her gnawing a little at her lip as she squints to herself, raising up her own hand like what now, wanda? ]
So you're an apocalypse boy. With that kind of life, there must be something you've always wanted to try, right? To eat.
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Just going to let that initial silence drag on, hi, hello...
Fortunately, he's saved from resorting to his own personal brainstorming session on what to follow up with by what she coins him. Apocalypse boy. It's close enough to "nature boy" that he makes an amused sound.
Ah, but hold on--]
--Are you really baking?
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besides, he might just hear some light clangs of metal, various pots and other kitchen tools, that could answer his question before she even has a chance to. ]
I am. And with what I have in my fridge, you can have your choice of tulumbe or palachinke. Maybe even krempita.
[ she pauses, trailing off as she realizes herself and the fact that most people wouldn't recognize those terms. ]
Or we could simply go with something like chocolate chip cookies.
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[He just assumes she's being really nice out of guilt for nearly spilling his brain matter on the street that one time... Which is, like, maybe fair in some cases, but he's an apocalypse boy as she well knows. That's about par for the course.
Admittedly, though, baking from an actual person sounds way more appealing than what the Bettys have to offer. Even if the only item on Wanda's list he can identify is cookies.]
Those are... desserts? [??? ?] I mean, um. I'm not picky. We didn't get a ton of time to stop and bake something, either. I like oreos?
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[ though it’s hardly any actual trouble at all. it helped to keep herself busy, to keep her hands doing something, and maybe for a time, after recent circumstances, it was better to have them do something that didn’t require magic. ]
Um, yes, sorry. [ she gives a small nervous laugh, shaking her head more for herself considering the audio. ] They’re desserts more familiar to home. Sokovia — small country in Eastern Europe. [ since most people never seem to know of it. ]
But oreos. I think I could do something with that. [ she’ll probably have to do some improvising, but she’ll get there. ] So what did you mostly eat out there? Fruits? Nuts?
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[Well, technically speaking, one could argue they both are. For an American boy born and bred, he's a tourist in pre-Z America.]
What, out on the road? Yeah, if they're around. Meat's not--I mean, it wasn't safe and most stores were picked clean the first few years when there were more mouths to feed.
[Of course, that had all changed after Black Summer when the majority of the population died off in droves.
On the bright side, if you could call it a bright side, there'd been more packages of unopened cookies waiting to be discovered. The best he could do with no mother to do the baking in a while.]
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[ she works her way around the kitchen, shuffling through for flour and sugar, balancing her attention between gathering ingredients and listening in on his explanation. ]
First few years? Just ... just how long had you been out there?
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[Compared to Wanda's international travel, he's a homebody--which, yeah, might have had something to do with air travel all but ceasing to exist when things got bad.]
Oh. The outbreak was about eight years ago. Sorry, did I mention that? Zombie apocalypse.
[You know, the fun, quirky cousin to your standard issue alien invasion apocalypse.]
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did he says eight years? ] And what year was that?
[ she’s understood that sometimes people’s worlds here could differ immensely from one another but eight years still felt a bit expanded for apocalyptic survival.
plus, there’s the — ] Zombies. [ she repeats it like maybe that might make it a little more real. ] And you’ve survived all that time, just — hiding from them? Taking them on?
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[That's the sound of him perking up on the other end of the line. Back up, she has aliens? Like, real aliens? He needs this story.
Witches and aliens and cats in costumes. What will they think of next?]
20...15. [It's been a while since he's thought about the before years, he has to remind himself for a split second. It's the year his dad died, and that's enough to want to forget it. Unfortunately for Wanda, Zs have long since become old hat; he sounds less like one marvelling and more "weatherman discusses weekly forecast" about the whole affair.] Yep. Zombies. I kill them--that's what my name means. I'm going to kill ten thousand zombies.
[That's a thing he sure said with a straight... voice.
There was also a years-long road trip from hell and more world-ending events and a cure in there, too, but. He's trying to ease her in.]
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A few years ago, these enormous whale-like creatures came from a portal in the sky. They dropped an army of alien-like monsters across the entire city — the Battle of New York, they called it. Almost destroyed everything if the Avengers hadn't stopped it. [ oh, he might not know about them, either — ] A group of super-powered humans. [ plus a god. ] I wasn't there for that fight. I didn't join them until we fought the world-dominating robots.
[ which was technically her fault, but that's another story.
but he has a far more interesting story to tell now, from her point of view, intrigue when he provides a more definitive explanation. ]
That's quite a goal you've set for yourself. I'm sure you've been asked plenty, but what's your current count then?
[ because honestly, ten thousand zombies is ... a lot. so it wouldn't be more than maybe a few hundred, right? ]
But I'm from 2016, so it looks like I missed the apocalypse all together.
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[If he sounds startled and, to be perfectly honest, amused by the summary of events, that's because he is. In spades. Wild.]
I thought you were kidding about the spaceships. So Roswell. Area 51. That's all real?
[Yes, that's where his mind drifts when told of alien monsters and super-powered humans and robots. His answer is hardly a drop in that bucket, and he provides it off-hand.]
8201. [Down to the kill and the letter.] I'd say you're lucky, but it sounds like your world has gotten weird, too.
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[ which is, of course, her territory.
but if she’s managed to surprise him, he does the same in turn, a sudden surprised sound escaping her. ]
Over eight thousand? [ that’s ... a lot of kills. ] I guess we do both have our brand of weird.
[ she pauses, doing a little math in her head. ]
Eight years from 2015, I’d be — in my thirties, by then. I wonder if I could cheat my way that far with magic. I’m not a good runner.
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[Are they real, too?
But, hey... should he be a tad bit insulted by that?]
It's not that weird, is it? [Yes. Yes, it is, but he's hinged quite a bit of pride and effort on the number.] Huh. That makes you older than me.
[An observation he's just going to leave hanging.]
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[ maybe. probably not. but she doesn’t have it in her to shatter his dreams.
even if she’s picking on him just a little. ]
It’s not a bad weird. It’s dedication. I mean, you should be very proud. I don’t think I’ve accomplished eight thousand of anything.
[ except maybe brushing her teeth, but that’s not a number she keeps track of, or anyone would parade around. ]
And, well, I’m not much older now, am I? [ not that it matters for literally any reason at all. ]
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[Really? Don't go teasing him with baked goods and cryptids now.]
When you put it that way, I bet you could get to ten thousand if there was something you wanted to kill--I mean, or I guess... do. Not everyone can hit a target, but definitely not everyone can do magic. [Like... anyone, at all.] At least where I'm from. If you have time and you can keep count, you can do anything.
[...]
You could bake ten thousand of--what did you say? Krempita?
[..........]
I don't know. People tell me you shouldn't talk about a woman's age.
no subject
[ talk about a certain kind of dream. it's the sort of "strange" that seems to suit him, though.
but it's kind of nice how genuine he seems about giving her that confidence boost. it's almost sweet. ]
When I was learning to control my powers, I would start with trying to lift these small toy blocks. And I would count for days and days just how many I could keep in the air longer than five seconds. Not exactly exciting, but —
[ but she did count. even if she stopped for a time once it became evident that she could move just about anything without much effort at all.
she smiles though, when he makes an effort to pronounce the dessert like she had. ]
I think I could make that a goal. Ten thousand slices of krempita. But if I do it, you're the one who's going to have to eat it all.
And I think that's just a rumor. But it's sweet that you're considering politeness.
text; un: dana.polk
Anyway, I thought you might want to know that she's back. Alive. Alive and back. Apparently, dying in this place gives you some pretty bad flu symptoms, so she's been resting at home, but
To tell you the truth, I'm a little worried about her. She hasn't come out much, and I know she's not alone because she has the cat in there with her, but I think a visit from a friend might cheer her up. A friend who isn't me, that is. Not that she's sick of seeing my face, because she'd never say it even if she was. Just sick in general. You know what I mean.
Okay, this is too long already so if you've skipped to the end first: hi. Wanda's home, if you want to stop by.
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He both appreciates and dislikes phones. On the one hand, they tempt him to make that call to Wanda he has yet to go through with, because what can anyone say into a speaker about a world that both profits on and exploits death? And on the other hand, a text means he gets the message quickly and can let the relief seep in.]
How long has she been there?
[Sorry, Dana, it's not you. He runs out of disc space for wordiness when there's a lot of internal processing happening.]
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It's been about a week. Long enough that I think her fever's broken and she should be up and at 'em, you know?
I don't want to rush her, but I feel like there's more to this that's keeping her down than just the sickness.
[ don't worry; she'll supply the wordiness for the both of them. ]
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Thanks for messaging me. I went to your house before, but I didn't knock. Didn't know if I should.
[That is, if he should knock and officially meet Dana by asking if her dead friend isn't so dead anymore. Hard to say if that would've been an easier or harder conversation than this.]
I can come over if you think she'd be all right with me being there. [He wrestles with whether to add what comes next.] Did you see her on the TV?
[Because if she had it might explain, in part, why Wanda might not be bouncing back up after the slow and painful way she went down.]
no subject
Well, if you knocked this time, chances are at least one of us would answer. Maybe don't ring the doorbell. I'm trying to let her sleep as long as she can.
I think she'd want to see you. [ not that she knows 10k from adam, but she's heard wanda speak about him enough times to have an understanding, if not a whole picture. ]
No. I was in there too, around the same time she was. I didn't find out what happened until I made it out.
[ by literally having a tree fall on her and having to be carried out by a willing friend, but she won't go into those details. ]