a homeless and very confused pup

[thisblankpage]

Nick can't help but look confused. Finally he reaches for his pad and starts writing.

Okay, I get you want a new character to write, but of all people you go for the deaf mute guy? Really? Communication is going to be tricky, don't you think?

It's been kind of nice talking to people who hadn't lived through the superflu, but I still don't think this is a good idea.

Okay, fine. Look for a game. Who knows, we night even find someone I remember from home.

Maybe.

((canon is the Stand, primarily the book version, but I know the movie version too.))

Comments

[thelastgunslinger]

[Roland just blinks]

What do you mean superflu?

[thisblankpage]

((Give me just a moment to rave about your PB choice..))

Someone who hadn't heard of it? Huh. Well, he should get used to it, right?

Flu that took out about 98 percent of the population. Not many of us survived. Sort of cliche, but things got worse after that.

[thelastgunslinger]

[I can't take all the credit sadly, BUT THANK YOU.]

[98 percent of the population. Dry rusting bodies and a hunk of metal on a long stretch of road. Takuro Spirits. Spirits and ghosts.

Meijis in the dry wind.

The gunslinger raises an eyebrow at him, reads the paper, then shakes his head sadly]

...Sounds terrible.

[sounds familiar, but he can't say that. He's been there done that]

[thisblankpage]

((I grew up on those movies. All the love for Eastwood, man.))

Nick rolls his shoulder, folding the paper and sticking it towards the back of his tablet. It was the dreams that got worse after the plague. The dark man chasing you through your worst memories. It's a miracle more of us didn't crack.

But we did what we had to.

[thelastgunslinger]

[His eyes go wide. Visibly shocked before he strides forward, not checking his speed moving to grab the other man's shoulders] What Dark Man?

What Dark man!

[thisblankpage]

Startled by his move forward, Nick tries to shake his way free. Anyone who has had the nightmares tends to react violently to any mention of the dark man. He frowns and struggles to get free, finally twisting his way out of his grasp.

Him. The word is written in shaky handwriting, firmly underlined twice. The Dark Man. Walking Dude. Goes by all names and none of them. He chases us through our nightmares.

[thelastgunslinger]

...A man dressed in black?

[silentstar]

[Here, have someone else who uses pen-and-paper (along with whiteboard, text message, some sign language and occasionally throwing things)]

Communication's not so difficult, if you're quick and clear

[Hers is a tidy block print, not quite as fast as speaking, but close.]

[thisblankpage]

[Throwing things. Good to know. He'll make a note of that. He grins at the note, sketching down one of his own.]

Yeah, been there, done that. I'll have to get used to it, I imagine.

[silentstar]

Not hard to get used to, either. It's training other people that's the problem. Just because I'm not talking to you don't mean I can't hear you.

She gives an eloquent shrug, Do learn some good gossip that way, though. Bad too, for what it's worth.

[thisblankpage]

Can't hear either. It's a wry sort of shrug before he goes back to his tablet. Yeah, I've picked up some interesting bits across the bar. People forget that I can read lips.

((ooc: By the by, I read her background, great character concept!))

[silentstar]

She winces, just a little, writing quickly: Sorry. Don't usually put my foot in it that badly. Reading lips would be handy, especially in a loud garage.

This was followed by the clarification: I'm a mechanic, mostly.

[ooc: Thank you very much! I enjoy doing aged-up versions of interesting characters.]

[thisblankpage]

Not like he offends easily. Nick shrugs it off with a smile. Don't worry about it. You could probably learn. I'm told it comes easier to people who can hear to begin with.

Again, something he's learned how to cope with, just like Rudy taught him all those years ago. I've been trying to take a few correspondence courses, get a degree of some kind, but it hasn't been easy. Then the world kind of ended. Puts the stops on academia, you know?

[silentstar]

'kind of ended' is something I know. Machines took over, but people are still fighting, like we do.

She ponders for a moment before adding: And I don't figure learning to lip-read could be much harder than learning speech.

[thisblankpage]

For a moment his eyebrows loft in surprise. Machines? Ours was taken out by plague. Plenty of machines for the taking so long as you know how to turn them back on again. I'm looking forward to finding a world that maybe hasn't ended.

A quick nod. I've heard (ha!) that from other people who can't speak.

[silentstar]

I found one once, hadn't ended yet, but it was on the way. Demons, if you can believe it.

This was followed by a somewhat longer note, one finger held up in a 'please hold' as she did so: Machines, capital-M, not cars and trucks and blenders and farm equipment, more like robots. They were supposed to protect us, make the world safer. But then they started thinking for themselves.

[thisblankpage]

Demons? Yeah, that doesn't surprise me as much as you might think.

Machines. Robots taking control. Okay, that's something new on him and an idea he really hoped that Flagg never got his mind around back home. He lets out a long breath as he reads over the note, digesting the information. Wow. I'm sorry, that's awful.

[silentstar]

I was still a baby when it happened, Judgment Day. Don't remember much from when I was younger, just what people talked about, pieces that got left behind.

She shrugs Worse ways it could have happened.

[thisblankpage]

I know. But that doesn't make it any easier. I saw a few kids in Boulder who'd seen the end and it was the hardest on them. A sympathetic smile. I'm sorry.

[silentstar]

That earns him a smile in turn, it isn't often that people say that and actually mean it.

Her reply was a sign-language 'thank you', fingers resting against her lips for a moment before bringing that hand down in front of herself palm up.