redshiftlogs | Everyone can master a grief but he that has it.

[She can't help but hear the steps, the small sounds of movement, but when the animals she's lying there with don't stir in any kind of alarm she decides it must just be that guy who's always hanging around. Just doing whatever it is that he does.

It's when she feels someone - or something - staring at her that she opens her eyes.

Julie doesn't scream. She freezes in place as a cold fear washes through her entire body like ice in her veins, and the cat sleeping on her chest bolts up to hiss at the undead thing examining them.]

Ohmygod--

[The Thing in the Fields doesn't seem perturbed by the cat's hissing, nor by the look Julie gives it. It cranes its long neck closer, its sockets filled the cool, blue light of magic that keeps it animated—]

What are you doing over there?

[A voice comes from the distance — that would be 'that guy who's always hanging around, just doing whatever it is that he does.' As for today, he seems to be attempting to attach a collar to one of the cattle, but he's noticed his guard has wandered away from its usual post in the center of the field, having made its way over to the fence. It's only once he takes a few steps that he can see what has drawn the Thing's curiosity.]

No no no no, what are you doing?! Leave them alone! Did I tell you to come over here?

[He runs up beside the Thing, pointing back to the center of the field.]

Go. Back to your spot.

[The Thing in the Fields remains unbothered by its apparent master's chastising, but meanders away nonetheless, its hulking frame easily seen over even the tallest grasses. Carlisle straightens his apron, making sure the abomination is well on its way before addressing Julie.]

My apologies, lass. He so rarely moves from that spot that I did not think to keep an eye on him. Are you all right?

[Julie has ample experience with the Dead. Hell, her boyfriend back home is only halfway back to Living and she deals with the scale of Dead to Nearly Living every day.

But this... this is something that reminds her far too much of creatures she does not want to remember.

She can't speak at first. Her breath is locked up in her chest, clenched down in that sudden moment of terror. Julie fumbles for her pocket and pulls out an inhaler, taking a hurried shot of it and wheezing out her reply to her apparent rescuer.

That guy who's always hanging around, just doing whatever it is that he does.]

I-I--...

[There's something odd about him, this close up, but he's talking normally enough.]

Yeah-- Fuck. Yeah, I think so. What the fuck...

[Carlisle rubs at the back of his neck as he watches Julie use her inhaler, wondering just what that device is, assuming it must be something to calm her nerves, given how it seems to aid in her respiration. He's simultaneously mortified he lost track of the abomination, and relieved that it did her no harm. He vaguely recognizes her: they've seen each other across the field and through the trees dotting the Agricultural Zone on more than one occasion, the other little more than a speck in the distance, but haven't actually spoken face-to-face. What a terrible introduction this is.]

I- I know its visage is horrible, and it is truly an awful abomination, but it is quite tame. I've never seen it take interest in anyone or anything but the cows, but- but I should have been watching it. Are you sure you're all right?

I'm fine.

[There is a reason she's still on the ground, and that's because her legs have turned to complete jelly thanks to the sudden rush of fear. Her two animal companions are still close by, though the cat doesn't seem quite as concerned with matters as Julie herself is.

She scoots herself back, huffing out another slightly wheezing breath.]

What kind of fucked up zombie shit is that thing.

Wh—

[It takes him a second to parse her question. Carlisle looks over his shoulder toward the Thing in the Fields, as though they had somehow changed the subject in the course of a few seconds.]

It is an aberration.

That's fucking obvious.

[She really only wants to know one thing-- well, she wants to know several things, and most of them can be summed up in the question 'what the actual fuck'.]

But what is it?

[It's an aberration. He just said it's an aberration. She said it's obvious it's an aberration. His brow furrows, as it's an aberration apparently isn't the answer she's looking for, and he's not sure what is.

He falls back on Pratt's explanation.]

It... guards the cattle?

[Julie just stares for a moment.]

... I feel like we're having two different conversations here.

[And just give her a moment to wobble up to her feet, because she's feeling very vulnerable just sitting down on the ground like that.]

It's an aberration. Right. I know what that word means. So it's an aberration like this-- [She points at the small cat at her feet.] --is a cat, or it's an aberration like 'what the actual fuck is that and why does it exist'. Because I'm using the second one.

[Ah. Although her spirited answer is certainly one way a person may describe an aberration, it does seem they were on two different conversational tracks. He tries again, grateful she's standing so that she's closer to eye-level.]

It was animated by necrotic energies, born of the bones from the ground around us.

[... sort of. He doesn't know what happened to that swamp that magically appeared that day in the Agricultural Zone, nor the men who attacked Kieran and whose bones were subsequently pulled into the creature's malformed frame. The cow skull likely came from the zone itself, though. That part is truthful.

Not thinking that answer will be satisfactory either, he tries again with the Pratt method:]

I... believe its name is Scraps.

[The explanation doesn't really make it any better, but the name? The name is like the snap of an elastic band and Julie laughs, managing to not quite sound entirely hysterical.]

Scraps? Really?

[It's--

Well, with the way its creation was described she supposes it's accurate.]

So, what, it's some kind of Frankenstein thing? Who made it?

[Having no idea what a "Frankenstein thing" entails, Carlisle finds relief in the fact that she's laughing. Better that than any of the alternatives.]

It was already here when I moved onto this level to care for the animals. [He's leaving out a key detail, but that's also true enough.] I've seen you across the way a number of times, but I don't believe we've met properly. My name is Carlisle Longinmouth.

[He'd offer to shake her hand, but that would require physical contact, so he opts for a polite bow instead.]

[It was something about the thing actually having a name that did it. Facing off against a nameless horror was one thing, but much less intimidating when it had a name like 'Scraps'.]

I never saw it here. [She says doubtfully - Julie feels like she wouldn't have missed something that looked like that, but... Maybe she just thought it was some kind of scarecrow.

Then she blinks at him, looking up at his face when he gives his name. She purses her lips.]

Julie Cabernet. You're not, uh... [The young woman waves a hand, because it's a slightly awkward question to ask.] You're not all the way human, are you.

[Her slightly awkward question is met with a slightly uncomfortable look; he stiffens, his brow knitting as those glowing eyes affix themselves on her face.]

I'm sorry, what?

Er.

[Yeah, that was probably rude. You don't just ask someone if they're not human, Julie.]

Look. I'm kinda used to 'not all the way human'. You don't need to explain anything. Or, whatever, you can if you want to.

[He remains stiff, but at least he has an excuse ready for this.]

It's magical inundation. Overexposure, in a way. It does, er.

[A vague gesture toward himself.]

This.

[She doesn't realise that he's making an excuse. Hell, if she wasn't so used to the idea of the Dead walking and talking she would be far, far more unsettled by this entire encounter. When she realises the true state of the person she is speaking to, she may be slightly more so.]

Huh.

[Okay, sounds valid.]

That's messed up. Why did you use it so much if that's what it does?

I am a healer by trade. It is my duty.

[Which, yes, is also messed up.]

Huh.

[Okay, yeah, sure.]

Doesn't look like it worked out too well for you, dude.

Yes, I am aware of that. What would you have me do, ignore my calling in this life?

[And unlife.]

I dunno. If my calling did that to me, I'd probably ignore the hell out of it.

[Like, no offence, but damn.]

It must have meant a lot to you.

[He bites back his annoyance; a sober tone is all that remains.]

It was all I had. Surely you must have had something so important to you that you would give anything for it.

... Yeah. Yeah, I did.

[Not something she would have gone quite this far for, she thinks, but she gets where he's coming from. She shrugs one shoulder.]

Then he died.

[His eyes fall.]

Ah. My apologies, lass.

[And someone who lost that very thing himself, he understands how painful that can be.]

Yeah, well.

[It's complicated. Julie lifts her shoulder in a shrug again. Thinking about Perry is still... kind of weird.]

He gave up on me before that, so fair's fair, right?

Everyone can master a grief but he that has it.

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Time for a tag from 874038107341 years ago

yes good

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