trans_9 | You Can't Go Home Again [Open]

Karis could tell she was going to hate this place. But exploration and pointed questions had brought her to the Sensoriums. After some experimentation (and some explanation from the weird ship construct), she'd grasped the purpose of it. And she'd started poking at it. She'd summoned up half-remembered battlefields and the cold reaches of Northrend. She'd wandered the halls of the Undercity for a time, rebuilt from inside of her head and out of her memories.

It was extremely disconcerting to think that it was gone forever. She knew nothing lasted, after all, but she'd never imagined it to be gone within her lifetime (so to speak), wiped out by something she'd never had a chance to fight, the world gone with a whimper instead of with a blazing last stand against the forces of the Legion. She'd wandered through the eerily empty roads of Loraderon - no familiar patrols, no Forsaken hurrying to the Undercity on business, no Blood Elf diplomats. Nothing.

And then she'd settled on one memory. A dilapidated farm house, falling apart, windows smashed in. The fields outside overgrown with weeds and other plants. The barn nothing but a scorched ruin, burned out long ago. A fine mist covers everything, making it all damp. Karis stands at the edge of the field, leaning on her poleaxe, immobile, as she looks at the house across the way.

This too was gone.

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"Hey, zombies are people too, asshole." Karis growls, "We're just... deader."

"And creepier. Can't forget creepier." He shrugs off the insult. He's been called worse. Much worse. "Ours was a gender-swapping tentacle-wielding psychopath, though, so he's a bit higher on the creepier scale than you."

"Nah, that ain't me. I just use blades. And guns," Karis paused and picked at her teeth reflectively with a claw-like finger. "...and my bare hands. Not in a competition for creepy, anyway."

"Not your fangs? That's a relief, I guess. Is it true you guys do the whole brains thing? Or is that just the movies?" The idea of a zombie with a gun is, Howard has to admit, pretty terrifying.

"Some of us do. I like the liver myself." Yeah, she's probably just saying that to freak him out.

Probably.

"I hear that's really healthy for you. Lots of vitamins. Doesn't taste that bad, either. I've had dog liver a few times."

"Night Elf liver tastiest thing ever, lemme tell you." Karis grins. She kinda likes this guy. He can dish it out.

Night Elf sounds human-like, but cannibalism wasn't unheard of in the FAYZ, so he doesn't comment. "I mean, for an organ that filters poison, you'd expect it to taste like the inside of a toilet, but in general it's way better than like kidneys."

"Well, it's more the meaty, fleshy bits and the life-force that we want more then any actual taste. But yeah, taste is good too." She shrugs and scratches at her chin. "...what's your story, kid?"

"Nutrition's the big one for me. I am all about nutrition." He pats his stomach, which looks a bit comical since he probably only weighs a hundred pounds or so. "You know Lord of the Flies? Think that but with superpowers and mutant animals and dead babies. Also famine, because apparently it takes eating dustbunnies and drinking Listerine before people actually start trying to, you know, grow food. And a really high number of crazies."

"How about you? I'm hoping your story starts with a global pandemic."

"...Lord of the Flies? That some kinda demon or something?" Karis scratches at her chin, looking thoughtful. Sounded like something a high mucky-muck in the Legion would call themselves. "My story? My story is our king went crazy, turned on his own kingdom and raised us all into undeath for shits and giggles. We broke free and made our own little place in the world. Now we're fighting everyone who wants a piece of us."

"Nah. It's a book we had to read in sixth grade. All kids, no adults, total chaos. Anyway, that's what happened. Anyone over the age of fifteen, just 'poof'." He illustrates with a hand gesture. "Kings and kingdoms? So is your world, like, medieval?"

"...the fuck is medieval? Nah, that's how the world has always been. Kings, kingdoms... the whole bag." Democracy is for suckers.

Howard would disagree, but he'd also know better than to argue that point. "Medieval, you know, knights in armor and serfs and vassals and I don't know, castles and dragons."

"...kid, that's just how the world is." What kind of crazy planet doesn't have dragons?

"Well, my world doesn't have dragons and we replaced castles with skyscrapers a long time ago. Not that that helped us much in the case of the teenage apocalypse."

"Your planet sounds weird." Says the zombie.

"It is," he says in total agreement. "So Fangs, besides the fact that you're from a place where zombies run wild, why'd Stacy pick you?"

"Probably because I'm good at killing the fuck out of shit." She hefts her poleaxe with a grin. "It's kinda what I do."

"I'm sure that a really marketable skill. And normally I'd say that sarcastically, but where you're from that actually sounds useful." Whether or not Stacy defends them, he's still got a cautious eye on that poleaxe. "So I guess you're looking forward to hacking up these Ohm guys?"

Karis' eyes glinted dangerously, voice dropping into a growl. "Oh, yeah. Gonna make them bleed."

"Cheerful. I'm going to say it now, I'd rather be on your side in a fight than against you." On her side, and possibly hiding behind her.

You Can't Go Home Again [Open]

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