01 - Public / Video

[domesheriff]

[for a moment, a woman's face is simply staring out at the broadcast, consideringly, as though not sure it's started yet. she's in her early twenties, Hispanic, her dark hair braided, and dressed in the uniform of resort security]

[realizing from the display on the screen that the broadcast must have started, she says:] Hello. [the word is a bit uncertain. she swallows, trying to mask her nerves, and continues more calmly:] I'm Linda Esquivel. I'm from Chester's Mill, Maine. [there's a beat of hesitation, as she wonders if she should give more information than that, but she ultimately decides to leave the description as it is] I just got here a couple days ago, and I've joined the security patrol. I was a sheriff's deputy back home. [and sheriff, but she doesn't think two days of that job due to the disaster that happened really counts, so she leaves her credentials at that]

I thought you should know who I am in case you see me around. And, uh, I'd like to start meeting people, too--and learn a little more about this place. I've never seen anything like it before. [another pause as she debates how to end an open message like this. finally, she goes with:] I'm here if you'd like to talk.

Comments

[thumbsdown]

Yeah. Deathclaws are... well, they're like lizards, but they stand on their back legs and they're about ten foot tall. Got huge claws and teeth. Can take a lot to kill them, especially the alpha males and the mothers. Better off taking them out from a distance if you can.

[He frowns a little. He knows what a bear is, and he knows what a wolf is, but...]

What's a moose?

[givessweetness]

[He's glad to be of help.] Well, you're welcome.

[domesheriff]

[she gives a low whistle] Damn. Yeah, I think we're lucky those haven't followed you.

[but at his question, she looks slightly taken aback. it's weird to think there's a world out there that doesn't have moose] Uh, well, if you have deer, they're a little like that--antlers and all. Except much bigger and...stockier. Maybe about 6 feet tall? They're usually pretty calm, but you don't want to scare one or make it angry. Around where I'm from, car crashes involving moose are...bad.

[quixotically]

Uhhh... well. We've got raiders -- or, well. We used to. There aren't as many of them, now. But you might still run into some if you go poking around in the remote areas of the desert. And that's not counting the wildlife... Like, for example, we've got these things called deathclaws? They're, like, eight feet tall with big horns and teeth and, well. Claws. And they don't die easy.

I like shotguns, myself. [Elle scratches her cheek.] I'm okay with rifles, but I'm best with shotguns, I think. I'm probably most experienced with pistols, though, 12 gauge can be pretty hard to find.

[thumbsdown]

Oh. Huh.

[He's still confused because he doesn't know what a deer is either, but he doesn't want to keep asking what things are.]

Don't have working cars where I'm from. Lot of them still on the roads, all burned out. Never saw a moving car until I came here.

[He doesn't really like riding in them. He doesn't trust the roads. He prefers to walk.]

[domesheriff]

[Linda's surprised to hear the reference to deathclaws] Are you from the same place as Boone? Or...near there? [because she'd hate to think of creatures like that being common to many worlds]

[Elle's musculature does imply someone either familiar with combat or other athletic pursuits, but considering her youth and how small she is, Linda can't help being surprised by her very informed talk about guns. her brow furrows] Yeah? Did you deal with raiders and the wildlife a lot back there, as a courier?

[domesheriff]

[she frowns] What do you mean? [for a second, she can't imagine why running cars would be a thing of the past--although then it occurs to her that in the future maybe something like that could happen, so she adds:] What do you have instead?

[not that having something else would explain why there are abandoned cars around that haven't been removed, but it's the best idea she can think of without more information from Boone]

[thumbsdown]

We walk. Got stuff like vertibirds, and I saw a plane fly once. Never been inside either of those, though.

[She's not the first person to express confusion over the lack of cars. He's not surprised at this point.]

About two hundred years ago, every country with nuclear weapons launched them. Whole world changed. Guessing what the missiles didn't wipe out, the radiation did. Any cars that were on the roads when the bombs fell, they're still there.

[domesheriff]

[Linda's eyes widen] ...what!? [her expression is one of absolute horror] But...people survived? How?

[in addition to the part of her that's horrified at what this must have done to Boone's world, there's also a part of her that's thinking about the missile now, wondering, if Boone's world survived a nuclear war, if maybe there's a chance of someone in Chester's Mill making it through the explosion]

[thumbsdown]

Vaults saved some people. Underground shelters. Guess other people just got lucky. I dunno. Know a guy who was around before the war, but I never really asked him about it.

[He tends to forget that knowing someone over two hundred years old isn't something that happens in other worlds.]

[quixotically]

[Oh!] Yeah! Yeah, we are. We were friends before we came here.

Oh, you bet. Courier work means a lot of traveling, and surviving out there means doing a good bit of prospecting, too. Er... Y'know, scavenging for supplies. And you're a lot more likely to run into a building where somebody or something's made base than you are to find one that's empty. [She's sounding awful cheerful for talking about this kind of thing.]

[domesheriff]

That's... [but she shakes her head, realizing she really doesn't have any words for what a nuclear war would be like] I can't imagine that.

[she picks up on that oddity right away, though] Before...the war 200 years ago?

[thumbsdown]

Yeah. He's a ghoul. Ghouls are people who got exposed to too much radiation but didn't die. Hair falls out, skin and noses rot off, but they end up living a lot longer than normal people and radiation heals them instead. Some ghouls go feral, forget who they are and attack anything. Means the ghouls who are still sane don't always get treated all that well.

[domesheriff]

[Linda smiles at Elle's answer] Must be nice.

Ohhh, got it. [knowing that Elle's world is Boone's world, it clicks for Linda now. in a world ruined by a nuclear war, she supposes even the mail (because that's what she assumes Elle means by "courier") would be a dangerous job. and as far as Linda's concerned, Elle's apparent optimism does her credit] The animals have kinda run wild there, huh?

[domesheriff]

[she shudders at that description] That's...too bad. [after a pause, she adds:] Is he nice?

[the question is really a sign of her brain struggling to comprehend a human being ending up on such a fine line with being a creature. it's a bit much for her]

[thumbsdown]

Sarcastic a lot of the time, but yeah. He's a good guy. He's a mechanic, helps us fix things up if we need to. Good to have around if you need backup, too.

[He looks over at her, noting how the description affected her. It's strange to think of a world where ghouls don't exist.]

Had a ghoul here before. Name was Charon. Worked patrol, like us. He left, though.

[domesheriff]

[she nods, a little relieved to hear that, though she's not sure she could explain why] He sounds like a good guy.

He went home, you mean? [she wonders what it would have been like to meet someone like that. admittedly, she knows it would have at least taken some getting used to]

[thumbsdown]

Yeah. Not sure why he left. He didn't talk much. Guess after two hundred years, you run outta things to say.

[He gets the feeling Charon was always a quiet guy, though. Some people just are. Boone knows he's one of them.]

[domesheriff]

Guess so. [considering she never met him nor has ever met anyone like him, she's not sure what to say. in any case, they're nearing a building that definitely looks like a restaurant, and Linda gestures in that direction] Is that where we're headed?

[thumbsdown]

Yeah. Pretty quiet place, but the food is good. Not too expensive either.

[He likes it mostly because there's never usually many people inside. He's never seen the place full. He heads inside and picks out a table, not bothering to pick up his own menu since he usually gets the same thing.]

So. Think you'll be sticking around here for a while?

[quixotically]

I'd say you're more likely to see a nest of geckos than you are to accidentally trip into a raider camp. Most of the raiders have been run out of the Mojave by now... But depending on where you go, you've got cazadores... coyotes, nightstalkers... mole rats... giant mantises... bighorners can be pretty grumpy if you get too close to the herd, too... Oh, and if you hang around Lake Mead too long, then you have to deal with the lakelurks, too.

Most of 'em, they don't tend to bother me too much. But I've seen the kind of damage that nightstalkers can do, it's not pretty.

[domesheriff]

[she follows him to the table, but she grabs a menu on the way, looking it over curiously. she's not sure what a lot of the food is, so mainly she's scanning for familiar dishes, and thankfully she isn't disappointed]

[she glances up at the question, though] Ah--yeah. [for a second, deep sadness flits across her features, but she quickly looks down at her menu again] Looks like I will be.

[trying to shift the conversation off of her, she adds:] Have you been here long?

[thumbsdown]

[Boone sees the look on her face when she answers his question, but he isn't the type to pry. It's none of his business, and if Linda wanted to talk about it she would.]

About... seven months now. Never planned on staying so long. Guess this place turned out to be better than I thought.

[He still misses home, though.]

[domesheriff]

[while many of those creatures are like nothing she knows on Earth, the names and sheer variety of them are enough to make her shudder] That sounds like a lot of trouble to deal with. Courier must be the kind of job people must be grateful you're willing to do.

[domesheriff]

[maybe someday, when the disaster isn't so raw and she feels close enough to someone here, she'll talk about it. but right now, it's still much too soon, so she lets the conversation shift, grateful that Boone isn't pressing her]

Yeah? That's a good sign. [not sure whether the question might be too personal, she asks a little tentatively:] What made you come here?