THERE'S A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL ... MAYBE

[dousing]

APOCALYPSE MEME The end of the world is here. Are you ready or are you going to kick the bucket? Maybe you've been prepared for the apocalypse for ages or you're blissfully unaware. You can play it straight or for comedy (think Shaun of the Dead), but please be aware that there's likely to be triggering content within!

TIMELINE 1. BEGINNING Things have only just begun. Can you get ahead of the problem or are things just going to go to shit? 2. MIDDLE Things HAVE gone to shit. You're right in the middle of things and there's no end in sight. You have to do your best just to get to tomorrow. 3. END Things are finally winding down (or amping up getting ready to wind down). You're in preparations for the final battle, you're killing off the last few zombies, you're living your life. 4. REBUILD/DESPAIR Things are OVER. Either you won or you lost, time to rebuild or go down in your bunker and cry. Hold onto your asses, folks. SCENARIOS 1. MONSTERS/KAIJU Think Godzilla or Pacific Rim. There are monsters, huge ones, and you gotta go through some shit to keep them from killing everything and busting up that last Dunkin Donuts you go to every Thursday with the cute girl working the counter. This is an outrage!! 2. ZOMBIES You know the drill. Whether fast or slow, virus or reanimated, airborne or fluid-borne, biting or eating: your favorite thing, zombies. Remember to aim for the head. 3. ALIENS Visitors from space! ... Except they're killing all of you! Does anyone you know have a cold? Send them to the front lines. 4. WAR Everything's gone to hell. It's going to become a nuclear winter out there if someone doesn't stop the tide of this war. History won't be written by the victors because there won't BE any. 5. "UTOPIA" Everyone is happy, right? Things are so much better now that we don't have any emotions, right? When we started culling populations to keep enough supplies for everyone, right? 6. ROBOTS YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELVES. YIKES. Skynet is a thing, everything is terrible, you're gonna get owned by a Reaper, whatever. Take 'em out, cowboy. 7. DISEASE You're not turning into rabid monsters, but people are dying off at alarming rates. What's causing it? Is there a cure? Is anyone immune? Figure it out, boyo. 8. MISC Anything left over!! Killer tomatoes? World taken over by talking dogs in exoskeletons? Whatever man, we're not the cops. Have fun. As always, these are just suggestions. Make up anything you want, as long as you're having fun!

Comments

[peacemakers]

[ He casts the bottle a dour sort of look, as if he held it personally accountable for the injuries currently inflicted on his person, and any pain it might cause in the future. ]

Suit yourself.

[ There's not much left in his own tin can, but he leaves it beside Vasquez's knee on the mattress, evidently having already enjoyed his fill.

After that, he digs through his pack to sort the haul from today's excursion, divvying up the caps and the ammo.

Faraday decides he's keeping the comics.

But the last prize of the day, the antique revolver, he tugs out of his waistband, absently twirling it on a finger, before depositing it in the space between them. ]

What do we wanna do with this?

[lawbreakers]

[ Vasquez doesn't really have much interest in comics (though sometimes he'll dip pinto Faraday's collection just to have something to do) so he doesn't mind when Faraday sets them aside for himself.

When the gun reappears, though, he perks a little. ]

Can I see?

[peacemakers]

[ He lifts up the gun, holding the grip out to Vasquez. The chambers are still empty, thanks to their encounter with the ghouls below, but the gun is still a weighty thing. ]

Hell of a kickback on that one.

[lawbreakers]

[ He takes it in hand, testing the weight. Definitely heaver than what he's used to, but it probably packs quite the punch.

He twirls it around one finger- forward, backward. Sideways, after a brief pause, because he enjoys showing off when he can. It's a little unwieldy at first but he gets a handle on the gun's weight and balance quickly. ]

I'd have to see how it shoots first, but I have to say I'm tempted to keep it.

[peacemakers]

[ A part of Faraday has always been a little envious over how easily Vasquez could handle a gun. It's flashy and pointless and, really, just a waste of time, but—

—but Faraday found himself partaking of the same useless little tricks, now and again – a quick spin or twirl when holstering or drawing his guns. And hell, if it didn't look good when Vasquez did it.

Faraday purses his lips, examining the gun in Vasquez's hand for the span of another breath, before glancing away. ]

Have it, then.

[lawbreakers]

[ That was far easier than he expected it to be, and he glances over at Faraday. ]

You sure?

[peacemakers]

[ It would've been a more difficult decision on Faraday's part, had they had the time to figure out ownership the moment they had found it. It's a damn fine gun, though it's in dire need of cleaning and a bit of maintenance. Even then, each shot had felt smooth, had felt damn powerful.

Hell, he wants that gun.

But the fact of the matter is, they didn't have time to argue it, because of those damn ghouls swarming in from every dark shadow. And Faraday likely wouldn't be here, having this conversation, if Vasquez hadn't been there to unleash that strange, unholy fury on the damn things.

Seems an even trade. The gun for Faraday's life.

What he says, however, is this: ]

Yeah. It's a piece of shit.

[lawbreakers]

If that's what helps you sleep at night, my friend.

[ Because he knows that's a load of bull if he ever heard it. HE could tell when Faraday found it that this was a nice gun, and the look on Faraday's face had more than suggested he wanted the thing as much as Vasquez did. This wasn't something easily surrendered.

Which is why he adds, ]

Gracias.

[peacemakers]

Just tellin' you my honest opinion.

[ Lightly, in that carefree way of his.

He digs through his pack again. The new – well, old – revolver is a slightly larger caliber than the revolvers currently holstered to their hips. Faraday plucks up the box he had found beside the gun in the chest and hands it over. ]

Try not to waste that. Difficult caliber to come by, I think.

[ As for the thanks, he only grunts in response – apparently, "thank yous" and "your welcomes" in any language have no place in his vocabulary.

The turrets downstairs let off another round – a quick burst that lasts hardly more than a second, and a distant thud to accompany it. An adventurous ghoul, it seems, and Faraday frowns at the escalators. He listens for further gunfire, but when it doesn't come, he relaxes a little.

He grumbles, ]

I hate ferals.

[lawbreakers]

[ He takes the box of ammo with another nod of thanks- he doesn’t waste the breath saying it again when any sort of gratitude seems to glance right off of Faraday- and sets everything aside to finish his dinner. He’ll probably set to working on the gun before they turn in for the night.

The report of the turrets is enough to make Vasquez pause, food halfway to his mouth, ears straining for further signs of movement. When none comes, he continues as though nothing had happened. ]

You and the rest of the world, guero.

[peacemakers]

[ He snorts, dismissive, and tucks his newly earned caps away into his bag. The ammo he leaves out for now, and he pulls a revolver from its holster at his hip, sets about carefully reloading the gun. ]

I’ve got a name, you know.

[ Mildly, with only the barest edge of annoyance running through. ]

Last I checked, it ain’t guero. [ Gwair-oh. ] Or— what was that new one?

[lawbreakers]

Guerito.

[ He supplies the word easily enough, though the definition may be another matter. He spares a second to scrape the inside of his can clean with his spoon before setting it aside. ]

I’m aware, Joshua. [ Yashua. ]

[peacemakers]

[ That certainly marks the first time Faraday’s ever heard Vasquez form – or attempt to form – his name on his tongue, and he barks out a laugh. ]

Joshua. With a J, not with a Y. Were you even tryin’?

[ But Faraday already knows the answer, which is why he doesn’t hold his breath. He exchanges one revolver for the other, sliding bullets into the empty chambers.

He jerks his chin toward the can holding what remains of his dinner. ]

Have the rest of mine. Just gonna go to waste, otherwise.

[lawbreakers]

[ He was trying about as much as Faraday ever tries to speak Spanish, which is to say he was not trying at all. He doesn’t need to answer, though, because it’s clear Faraday already knows. ]

You’re being awfully generous tonight, guerito. If I didn’t know better, I would think it was my birthday.

[peacemakers]

[ He makes another dismissive noise. ]

Nothin’ generous about it. [ Heatedly, defensively, as if being accused of generosity is the greatest insult in the known world. He swaps his revolver for the spent shotgun, keeping his attention fixed on loading in the shells. ]

Didn’t want the gun, so I let you have it. I’m not finishin’ that slop, so I handed it over.

I’m givin’ you my cast-offs, is what it is.

[lawbreakers]

[ He snorts, amused. He has no idea what kind of image Faraday thinks he’s upholding down here, with just Vasquez and corpses for company, but he rolls along with it anyway. ]

Lo siento. Did I say generous? I meant to say you are an evil and selfish man.

[ But he’s not about to let the offered food go to waste, and scoops up the can to quickly empty the contents. ]

[peacemakers]

[ The snort of laughter earns Vasquez a quick little sneer, though he turns his attention back to reloading his shotgun soon enough. Once he’s finished, he says primly, ]

And don’t you goddamn forget it.

[ He sets the shotgun on the floor next to the head of the mattress, within easy reach. He unbuckles his gun belt next, though he deposits it beside his hip, hand resting on the butt of one revolver.

After a bit of a pause, he asks slowly, ]

What’s low see-en-tow mean?

[ ... it would figure Faraday doesn’t know the niceties. ]

[lawbreakers]

[ It would figure, but considering he has only ever heard Faraday swear in Spanish- and badly at that- he’s not too surprised. ]

“I’m sorry.”

[peacemakers]

[ Oh.

He had sort of expected it to be something rude, and he’s a little disappointed that it isn’t, judging by the pursing of his lips. ]

Now, what about gwair-ee-tow?

[lawbreakers]

[ He levels another in what is sure to be a very long line of unimpressed looks at Faraday. Vasquez does do more than swear in Spanish- it’s his native language after all. ]

It’s a nickname.

[ That’s it, that’s all he’s going to say. ]

[peacemakers]

[ Faraday waits for further explanation, looking at Vasquez expectantly.

A second passes, and when Vasquez offers nothing else, Faraday squints at him, waving a hand. ]

... And?

[lawbreakers]

[ Vasquez may not have half the poker face that Faraday does, but he can keep his expression neutral when it counts.

Right now, it apparently counts. ]

And-? Oh. If you want to know what it means, it’s going to take many more guns and many more meals.

[ He rests a hand on Faraday’s shoulders, keeping away from his injuries. ]

Maybe someday.

[peacemakers]

[ He glances at Vasquez hand as it rests against his shoulder, and Faraday blinks at him.

Then, he splutters. ]

Now, hold on, don’t give me that shit.

[ He shoves Vasquez’s hand away, though there’s not nearly enough force behind it to signal any genuine annoyance. He still puts on the act, though, just for appearance’s sake. ]

You said you’d tell me! I let you torture me for ages— [ Was it any longer than five, ten minutes? Surely not. ] —and this is what I get?

[lawbreakers]

[ He gives Faraday a light shove back, rolling his eyes. ]

No mames. I did not torture you, and not for ages either.

[peacemakers]

[ There's another argument on his tongue, but he cuts himself off with a frown.

Then, ]

... "No mamas"?

[ what. ]