sixthiterationlogs | [i'm not crazy, i'm just a little unwell]

Entry tags:

[i'm not crazy, i'm just a little unwell]

WHO: Major Lilywhite
WHERE: The fountain, around the village
WHEN: July 23, then July 24th - the end of the month
OPEN TO: OTA; specific thread for Ravi.
WARNINGS: N/A

[Arrival - July 23, Early Evening]

The first thing Major notices when he breaks through the surface of the water is the sudden rush of air in his lungs, making his brain vibrate and buzz in his skull. It's a feeling he hasn't experienced since .. well, since he was last human. Does that mean that he's no longer a ... ? Huh. Will have to come back to that one later.

The instinct to survive, gather his bearings, figure out his sudden location change override any inkling he has to focus on the very human sensations he's experiencing. He crawls his way out of the fountain, tumbling up and over the edge of it, rolling onto the ground. On his back, he catches his breath and stares up at the sky overhead for a few seconds before the feeling of the fabric clinging to his body finally sizzles a few nerves in his fingers, and he realizes he isn't wearing the henley he remembers wearing, nor is he wearing the jeans he'd had on. Instead, he's wearing a .. very vibrant pair of magenta .. well, for lack of a better word, scrubs, and there's something digging its way into his back.

He sits up, loosening the straps of the strange pack he has on to take a look at it before deciding to get out of the open and somewhere sheltered. No weapons, no bullet-proof vests .. no hungering for brains. There's that weird buzzing in the back of his skull again.

He gets himself up, slips the pack back onto his shoulder, and begins to wander around the town.

[From July 24th to the End of the Month]

Major's memorized the layout of the town; it isn't all that large, and from his preliminary investigations, it also seems like there isn't a clear way out of the place. He's mostly stuck to the outskirts, having found some shelter in what appears to be an abandoned cabin somewhat near the river's edge (he thinks it's a river, anyway). He takes the subsequent days after his arrival to do more exploring of the village, this time venturing closer to the heart of it, as well as exploring the river to what he thinks is the southeast of his new "home."

He eventually finds himself wandering into the Inn at the center of town, intent on interacting with and asking the others any of the question he hasn't already gotten answers to.

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".. Second?" he asks, a brow perking up with interest. "Huh. Who was the other person? I mean, you said Ice Cream Boy, but I've got no idea who that is. Though I'm imagining a guy made of ice cream now." He feels something in his stomach roar with hunger. The mention of human food, and the growing gnawing ache where his stomach is, make it easy enough to answer her question with some conviction. "It .. would seem that way. If the idea of eating ice cream without it being like a million units on the Scoville Scale."

"Yeah," Sam said, kicking her heels softly against the countertop. She supposed a sane person would have been a little bit more leery of an ex-zombie. But she wasn't exactly in a position to cast stones. And she wouldn't want someone freaking out about her being an ex-vampire or anything. "I met a guy a few weeks ago, drowning in ice cream. His name was..."

She paused, trying to draw it out. Fuck, she should have been taking better notes.

"Uh...I think it was Ravi? Or Robbie? Something with an R. Nice guy. Little weird. I made a joke about zombie apocalypses and he took it seriously."

"Ravi?" Major's entire face lights up like a lighthouse. "Ravi's here? Indian guy? British? Amazingly thick, dark beard on his face that would make even The Rock feel self-conscious and envious? Self-depricating sense of humor?" There's a certain twinge of desperation mingled in with utter hope at this revelation. "Cause - cause if it is, I know him. He knows me. We lived together, back in Seattle. The guy's my best friend."

And once again, the multiverse proved that this place played favorites.

"Yeah," she said. "Sounds like him." Although why anyone would be envious of the beard was beyond Sam. She didn't quite get that. Clean-shaven was way hotter. And it meant you didn't have to smell the guy's last meal when you made out with him.

...not that she'd made out with Ravi.

Not after seeing the way he wolfed down ice cream. Ew.

"Guess today's either your lucky day or unlucky day, depending on how you feel about the guy. But yeah. He's here."

"Do you know where he might be? I .. I can't believe he's here," Major half-mutters to himself, sort of astonished that .. holy shit, Ravi's here. What are the odds of that? "Might be the luckiest day of my entire life, if I'm being honest with you. Hypothetical wedding, hypothetical kids - complete back burner to finding out that Ravi's here," he laughs, practically giddy.

"Buuuuut, based on your tone, you sound a little less enthusiastic about the guy. What did he do? Do I have to make him kneel in the corner or something for doing something wrong? Did he try to lecture you about Star Wars, even after you told him to stop?"

OOC: Ravi/Major've already found each other, so idk if you want her to like, lead him to the cabin but he isn't home? Or some other work around?

Edited 2017-07-30 03:21 (UTC)

Sam was beginning to wonder if Ravi was more than just a friend to this guy. But her thoughts came to a screeching halt unexpectedly.

"No one," she said, her tone surprisingly sharp. "And I mean no one lectures me about Star Wars. You only earn that right if you can name every character in in Tales from the Mos Eisley Cantina in under sixty seconds." Which she could, of course.

No clue if Ravi was as talented. He'd caught a Yoda reference, but any n00b could do that.

She made a dismissive gesture. "And no clue where Ravi lives. Only time I've ever seen him is here. If you hang around a little, he might show."

Major lets out a bit of a laugh, holding both hands up in both surrender and slight retreat.

"Hey, I didn't say Ravi would be 100% accurate in his lecturing, only that he'd do the lecturing itself. I know enough from having watched the movies and some of the TV adaptations, and I enjoy them, but I'm smart enough to know what battles to choose and what to run away from, Monty Python-style." He considers her for a few seconds. "He didn't make a good impression on you, I'm gathering."

He was very easy-going for a zombie. Ex-zombie. Whatever. Sam didn't know quite what to do with an easy-going person.

When was the last time she'd met one?

She shrugged. "He was okay. Table manners aside, but it's not like I'm one to talk. Still very beardy, if that makes you feel better."

"Ah, crap. What did he do?" He sighs, then gestures towards her as though he's figured out what to do. "I'll just shave off one of his eyebrows or something. Or I'll snip off a little bit of his beard, which I called Princess Sparkles - feel free to do the same the next time you see him, he'll love it - little by little when he's sleeping so that he thinks he's going insane. Don't worry. I'll get back at him for being a dick to you."

She couldn't help but laugh. This dude was truly and incredibly charming. And that was coming from someone who wasn't at all used to being charmed.

Or, you know, treated like a person.

But she brought some of that on herself.

Sam shook her head, waving off the offer. Ravi hadn't been a dick. Just a little...gross. "I don't even know your name," she said. "So you better tell me, or else you're gonna be Princess Sparkles instead."

"A little gross? Huh. I'll think of something to get back at him. I'd say I'd take photographic evidence, but I have a feeling cameras aren't really a 'thing' here. It'll be something little. Like, I don't know, shaving cream on the hand, tickling his nose kind of thing. Or maybe just half an eyebrow. Or I could make him look like Vanilla Ice, do a couple of lines in the eyebrow. I don't know, we'll see." He lets out a bit of a laugh. "Look, being called Princess Sparkles is an honor, okay? Even if Ravi says otherwise. I'm tempted to withhold my name, just so you'd be forced to call me that." He pauses, as though he might keep his word, but he eventually adds on, with a long, playful sigh, "Fine. My name's Major."

"Major?" It took her a moment to realize he was serious, not trying to top 'Princess Sparkles.' "Did your parents hate you or something?"

Okay, that was a little extreme. But with a name like that, they might as well have painted a target on his back. The only worse name she could think of, off the top of her head, was a kid in her eighth-grade class who'd been named Theodore. Theodore Baer. If anyone called him 'Teddy,' they ended up with a black eye and a fat lip.

"What kind of a name is that? Please tell me it's a family name or something."

"... Yeah," he says, with a weighted huff of air to show that the shadow of his name has followed him his entire life, apparently through the fountain and into this village, too. "Yeah, it's Major. Get ready for this part, though - my last name is Lilywhite. So, my full name is Major Lilywhite. Well, Major Nathaniel Lilywhite, if we're including middle names." He can only offer a bit of a shrug. "I always used to say I'd go into the army or something, just so I could be Major Major. Or, really, Major Lilywhite, but it'd be with the title and not my first name. Major Major Lilywhite," he laughs.

Introducing himself to people is still a little bit of a Thing, but he's gotten used to it. He thought about changing it once or twice while growing up, but honestly, he doesn't think much about it anymore. Even when meeting new folks. It's only when they get confused or have the kind of reaction that this woman's having that he remembers how odd it is.

"Nah. My mom was always a bit of a hippie. I'm not sure what her motivation was behind it, exactly."

Major Nathaniel Lilywhite. It made him sound like a character from The Mikado or Pirates of Penzance or some other G&S operetta. Maybe that explained why he seemed so good-humored for a zombie or human being. With a name like that, it was probably a survival mechanism.

Sam gave him a smile. "My name is Sam," she said, because manners were a thing. "Samantha, if you wanna be formal but...don't be formal."

She actually had no idea where the name had come from. She'd had it all through foster care and it wasn't like Robert and Anne were gonna change it after adopting her. She was nine, for fuck's sake.

"Sam," he says, tensing up his lips as he glances down to the ground as though he's upset and contemplating his entire existence. "Just ... Sam. Much normal. Much regular." He nods, like of course she has a regular name, pausing for a moment before looking back up at her. "What's it like? Having such a normal name? Having people just go, 'Oh, Sam, it's nice to meet you?' instead of 'What the hell kind of name is Major, Major?' Which - I'm not angry about, by the way," he adds on as an afterthought, laughing good-naturedly. "I tried going by my middle name for a couple of years in high school, but it didn't really stick. I never answered to it, so it didn't really work."

Sam tilted her head to a playful angle. "I imagine," she said, "it's sort of like having a normal hair color." She lived for the day, really, when someone ever noticed her for something other than her hair. Her eyes. Her lips. Her tits.

Anything.

"I can't say I've ever put a lot of thought into it," she continued, shrugging a little. "Although, I've occasionally considered changing my name to Sam Skywalker. So there's that."

"Huh," he says, glancing up at her hair. He'd noticed the color when he first saw her, of course, but he hadn't really thought much about it since. Her mentioning it is like him remembering it all over again. "I just figured you liked having it an unconventional color. You know, how like, grey and silver hair became a Thing? But for young people?" The thought and topic of 'normal hair color' makes him realize that, if he's as human as he feels, he'll never have to worry about spray tans and dyeing his hair ever again. "Side effect of zombie-ism is that your hair goes white, unless you dye it. I started getting a white streak, right here," he grabs a piece of his hair right at the front of his head, above his forehead, "Like Rogue from X-Men. But not nearly as cool and without the life-sucking powers."

Well, he sort of did have a version of life-sucking powers .. but less through skin-to-skin contact and more through .. nomming on brains.

"Sam Skywalker would be cool as hell! But then I'd definitely have to call you Young Skywalker," he says, imitating Palpatine's voice, "Which is either better or worse than Princess Sparkles, depending on how you feel about My Little Pony."

"I'm not that young," Sam pointed out. She knew she looked it. But that was just a side effect of her own former condition.

Which was definitely not on the table for conversation at the moment. Especially when he'd dangled such a tempting bit of information in front of her.

"Okay," she said. "I gotta ask. And feel free to tell me to fuck off or whatever, but seriously. What's being a zombie like? I mean, dude, seriously. Are we talking lots of grunting and groaning and snarling 'Braaaaaaaains?' Or more like the zombies at the end of Warm Bodies?"

"It's got nothing to do with your age, just like Princess Sparkles has nothing to do with Ravi resembling a My Little Pony," he explains, leaning in a bit as though divulging a secret. "One of our - mutual friends," Kind of a complicated relationship to describe, Major and Liv, "Who's also one of Ravi's coworkers was on some frat boy brain and, while Ravi was sleeping, covered him with makeup and wrote FART on his forehead. I got to see pictures of it, but when I saw Ravi in person, he still had glitter in his beard. Hence, Princess Sparkles."

Not that he really needed to explain all of that, of course. And talking about Liv, remembering her not being here, creates a strange sort of gnawing in Major's chest, but he does well to hide it.

"Uh, well. It depends. If you're just turned, or if you get on a pretty consistent brain-eating schedule, you don't really change much at all. Your skin gets really pale, you know, like a corpse. And your hair goes white. But other than that, not much changes about you. And those things you can cover up with some spray tan and hair dye. The major thing that's different is that when you're pissed or when you get beaten up or something, you go into like, full-on zombie mode? You get these weird .. rage veins that bulge all over your face, your eyes go red. You get super speed and super strength and are only barely human, really. If you don't get on a regular brain-eating schedule, though, you get more and more Walking Dead-like. Eventually, you cross a threshold you can't come back from. We call that going full Romero. Walking corpse - and you look like it, mindless brain-eating. That sort of thing."

That actually sounded a lot like a frenzy. Sam had been pretty lucky. In her oh-so-very-brief tenure as a vampire--at least by vampire dating standards--she'd never had the misfortune of going into a frenzy. But she'd seen it. She'd seen what it looked like. And she understood the danger all too well. Both to the frenzying Kindred and to anyone within, oh, a good mile, two mile radius.

She was pretty sure that there was a vampire equivalent for the 'Romero' thing too. But she couldn't remember what it was called.

Kindred had a fucking euphemism for everything.

"Okay," she said. "So back up the van a little beep-beep-beep and clarify 'on some frat boy brain.'"

Major's .. relatively surprised that Sam hasn't run the other way screaming yet. Most would, he figures, if they'd just learned about zombies. D-Day, the other zoms had called it. Discovery Day. When non-zombies would figure out their existence and, more than likely, try to kill them all. Apparently ... not a thing to worry about with Sam. Curious, he thinks.

"Oh, yeah, so another side effect of zombiehood is that when you eat the brain of a person, you .. inherit their personality for like, a week. And their memories, which can be triggered by anything. So Liv had eaten the brain of a murdered frat boy and behaved accordingly. Can be kind of fun, though more as an observer than the eater. Having to fight through and mostly failing to overcome thoughts, behaviors, and traits that aren't yours is pretty terrible, actually. One time, I'd eaten a teenage girl brain and Liv had eaten her dad's ... it was .. quite a spectacle."

From a biological standpoint, it was truly fascinating. Sam tried to connect the dots from the digestive system to the neurons, figuring that somehow, some sort of synaptic link had to be created to the zombie's frontal cortex in order for...

Wait. What the fuck?

She wrinkled up her face. "I'm sorry...you ate a teenage girl's brain?"

Kind of not cool. Solidly not cool, in fact.

"She was already dead," he quickly explains, realizing how it sounds out of context. "Died in a car crash. With her father, whose brain Liv ate. So, those flashbacks? Can be helpful for cops to figure out crimes, murders, that sort of thing. In addition to keeping a zombie happily fed. Liv was the one who started doing that .. saying she was a psychic. But since there were two that particular case, she'd eaten the dad's brain before I could have a say, so I ended up having to eat the daughter's. We found the killer between the two of us and the flashbacks." He winces a bit. "I've never killed anyone to eat, or anything like that. I always got them from Liv. She's an M.E. for the city morgue."

A morgue. That was actually a pretty clever hustle. Sam knew some vampires who used to do something similar, working at blood banks or in hospitals.

At least, back when there were blood banks and actual, functioning hospitals.

Ah, what a wonderful world.

She smiled vaguely, a piece of hair falling across her face. "So...you're kinda like a superhero? Major Major Lilywhite."

Crisis averted. Or, at least, a super harsh judgment. Which, honestly .. it's not as though he hasn't earned it, given everything else he's done prior to arriving in the village, but .. at least he isn't getting The Look for killing and eating someone's brain. There's a joke to be made here, about sustainably grown, ethically sourced food, but it eludes him.

"Me? No, no, no," he laughs with an adamant shake of his head. "Nothing like a superhero." A beat. "Trust me on that. If anything, Liv's the one who should be congratulated. She's helped solve more cases than I can even keep count. I just helped that one time."

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