First Shot

[dog_eat_dog]

[Everything changes with the bat of an eye.

While she registers the change immediately, it takes a moment to truly sink in. Tess finds herself in what could only be a dream –– she hasn't seen a bedroom so immaculate and new and utterly inviting outside of old magazines in decades, and she's certainly never slept in one. She's never even stayed in a hotel this nice, never had her own place with such crisp, perfect white linens. The very act of being in a well-kept bedroom is jarring and discomforting and panic-inducing.

The only thing that keeps her from outright panicking is the fact that she still has her handgun in her hands, her arms outstretched to point it at some invisible intruders, her finger laid against the side of the gun, ready to move to the trigger at a heartbeat's notice––

Seconds ago, there had been bullets, and Joel and Ellie's retreating footsteps––

There's an assortment of things on the dresser, a hairbrush that had likely never even approached anyone's scalp, a comb with all its teeth, a jewelry box that looks freshly polished––

There had been a throbbing in her chest and collarbone and neck, and––

No, no, the throbbing is still there, the collar of her shirt half-stuck to the mess that is her throat, and Tess could (and can) feel it almost thrumming under her skin, almost moving––

Tess backs up into a wall, her support hand leaving the base of the gun in favour of splaying against the immaculate paint. Purple. The walls are rich, warm purple, without so much as a hairline crack, and Tess is pressing the grime of her skin and clothes against it. She feels like she needs to apologize, even when there is no one around to apologize to.

She's alone here, almost. Alone as any host is.

She's not sure if she can "feel" the infection crawling under her skin because she knows it's working its way towards her brain so that it might kill her, or if there really are cordyceps tendrils spawning in her veins, winding through her muscle tissue and up her neck to her skull. Have they reached her brain yet? Will it hurt when they do?

Of course it's going to hurt, she tells herself, almost angrily. But Joel and Ellie are gone, and oh thank god, Joel is gone, Joel doesn't have to see this, and there are no soldiers to shoot her like a fucking rabid dog, and it's just her and the gun and this immaculate not-quite-afterlife hotel room.

It was easy to maintain her composure when she had work to do and Joel to protect –– she couldn't let him see her die or turn or suffer, she had her pride and her obligations to her goddamn partner –– but now she's alone and she is going to become a monster if she doesn't put herself out of her own misery.

Tess fits the barrel of the gun to her chin.

Don't be such a fucking coward, Tess.

She pulls it away, takes a hard breath, and closes her eyes for a beat.

It's only been a few hours. You've got hours. Maybe twelve hours, or twenty-four, or maybe even forty-eight––

When she opens her eyes, they settle immediately on the window across from "her" bedroom wall. More importantly, they settle on what appears to be a distant city basking under a summer sun, and for an instant she thinks of being a teenager again, when she dreamed of backpacking across Europe. There were lots of pictures of little French cities all over the Internet, back then, cities that could still feel like quaint little towns despite their sprawl.

For a moment, she just stares in silence, and then she says:]


Couldn't pick a nicer fucking place to die, huh...

Comments

Re: dictated;

[dog_eat_dog]

[By now she has the journal figured out, though she still casts it a suspicious eye when she hears it.

She sounds tired, worn, but she can't let it show. She takes on that hard tone she needs to deal with strangers.]

Is there ever a death that isn't gloomy?

dictated;

[rightchoices]

Probably not. But, uh, no offense - you didn't just get here, did you?

[ He'd been convinced he was dying upon arrival, too. Wasn't a good feeling -- and the only alternative to her being new was that something was threatening the people in the castle, aaand that wasn't really a thought that gave him much comfort. ]

Re: dictated;

[dog_eat_dog]

New? Yeah, I'm "new", I guess. Not that it matters.

dictated;

[rightchoices]

Yeah, it does, actually. People don't die here. -- and if they do, they don't stay that way for long. You hurt?

Re: dictated;

[dog_eat_dog]

Not with anything that can be helped. Any idea where a girl can get a last drink around here?

dictated;

[rightchoices]

You'd be surprised. Some kind of sick?

-- and yeah, there are a few places. Not hard to find. You in a room?

Re: dictated;

[dog_eat_dog]

[She's just going to decline to answer that. It hurts to even think about.]

Yeah. Just tell me where to go, I can find it.

[rightchoices]

First floor, off the lobby.

[ What, lady. ]

You're probably not dying.

[dog_eat_dog]

[That gets her bristling. There's a threat in her voice.]

You don't know jack shit about me. Do yourself a favour and keep your shitty diagnosis to yourself.

[rightchoices]

[ Lee doesn't quite make it to defensive, but his voice is firm. ]

And you don't know shit about me - which means maybe you should listen to what I'm saying before you dismiss it off the bat.

[dog_eat_dog]

Then fucking talk.

[rightchoices]

I was dying when I showed up here, too. Fast, and from something that couldn't be cured. [ He's a teacher, or he used to be; he can't help the exasperation seeping into his tone. ]

[dog_eat_dog]

[She pauses, long and pregnant, and then...]

Buy me a drink. We'll talk.

[rightchoices]

I'll be at the Lux.

[dog_eat_dog]

Be there soon.

[After washing up a bit, first. Stealing a pair of clean jeans from the wardrobe, and a t-shirt. Just her size, conveniently. She just doesn't feel comfortable enough to shower properly, too wired to care, too out of place to worry... But she doesn't want to look infected, either.

And then she'll be walking in, clean clothes jarring compared to her well-worn boots and beaten up hip holster, and the threadbare bandanna pulling her hair back.

She looks like she's ready to fight at any moment. ]

[rightchoices]

[ For months, Lee wasn't comfortable without a gun on his hip, some sort of weapon in his hand. It's taken a long while to acclimate to the castle, to get used to the fact that danger isn't literally around every corner.

Now, though? He is surprisingly clean-cut for someone who has spent so much time mucking through zombie guts, dressed in a button-up and slacks. He doesn't know Tess's name, and can't really guess what she might have looked like based off of her voice, but somehow he's able to recognize her immediately.

So he simply lifts a hand in greeting. ]

[dog_eat_dog]

[She raises a hand in return, striding over like she owns the place, and she takes a seat next to him. She doesn't want to gawk or look unusual, but she can't keep her eyes off the decor, the polished glasses, the smooth bar, the bright lights...]

So what were you dying from?

[She manages a glance his way for a brief moment. Business. This is business.]

[rightchoices]

[ Lee flags down a bartender, jerking his head toward Tess, indicating that he'd buy whatever it was she wanted to ask for. He rubs his forearm idly as he lowers it back to the bartop, though, an uncomfortable sort of gesture. ]

Uh. Fast-acting disease, you could say.

[dog_eat_dog]

[She feels her breath catch in her throat, and she turns her eyes to the bartender.]

Just something strong. Surprise me.

[Her eyes go back to her company.]

Tell me how you got rid of it.

[rightchoices]

Someone here helped me out.

[ Lee finally rolls his sleeve back, smoothing his fingers along his forearm. It's not easy to see, but there is a very, very faint impression of a bite mark there. ]

Kind of a weird circumstance. But if this could be stopped, I'm sure whatever's bothering you can be, too.

[dog_eat_dog]

[Her eyes widen, and then narrow.]

How? When? As far as we know in the Boston Quarantine Zone, there isn't even a way to delay it, let alone cure it.

[rightchoices]

-- to delay what, exactly?

[ He hasn't met anyone from home other than the folks from his group, after all. ]

[dog_eat_dog]

[She's confused for a moment, and a twinge angry.]

Infection. The fucking cordyceps, don't screw with me.

[rightchoices]

-- Cordyceps?

[ Infection. That's something that sounds familiar, at least. ]

What the hell is cordyceps?

w o w learn2filter lee

[willrememberthat]

[Clementine was going to see what she could do to help this lady, but she overhears this instead.

She silently closes her journal and decides to go do something else.]