RADIO FREE ELLIE: 1st Broadcast.

[ascocarp]

WHO: Ellie and YOU.
WHAT: Ellie is bored and playing with a ham radio.
WHERE: Anywhere with a radio.
WHEN: After the TDM, for various values of 'after' when time is variable.
NOTES: It's Ellie, so casual discussions of violence are de rigueur.

[The broadcast begins a little fuzzy as Ellie messes with the dials and utters indistinctly to herself.] Can I- uh- yeah, okay. Cool. Hello? Wait, no, that's... [More fuzz and murmuring.]

[Eventually, she seems satisfied. Now, how do radio broadcasts go? She remembers the ones in Boston's military QZ go...? God, she never paid any attention in that class. Her voice comes in clear, and it's obviously a young person speaking.] Uhhhh, nine-hundred hour... fuck it, the sky's fucking broken. Callsign... Daniela Star.

[Right.]

So, like, is there anybody here that goes by William? Or Will? Not Bill. Heh, those guys are assholes...

Oh! Also, has anybody seen any frickin' trees? Like real trees, with branches and shit. I found some potted plants, but they were all plastic. What about animals and stuff? I don't mean the freaky shadows, fuck those assholes. Like actual living breathing animals.

But... y'know, speaking of the shitty shadow fuckers, does anybody know how to, like, beat them? I saw somebody do it, but they had like a full suit of armor. I tried it and my hand almost fell off. They're cold.

...Maybe that's it. Anybody seen any fucking suits of armor laying around?

Comments

[omniavincit]

Hi. [ He sounds—amused, albeit tentative. It's the way she says trees that makes it click, reminds him of the lines scratched beneath her words.

It's a particular kind of joy, something in this place finally adding up. ]

Uh, William standing by? [ There's a break as he fusses with his set, trying to shake the thought of his voice blasting from every radio in the vicinity. ] Reporting in. I hope this isn't a talk show.

[ascocarp]

[Um.]

What's a talk show?

[omniavincit]

[ Wait what. ]

You'd interview me and I'd...try to sell my latest book. Daniela Star sounds like a talk show host, that's all. [ Please don't get any ideas.

Moving on: ] I haven't seen anything living. I'm starting to think nothing's native to this place.

[ascocarp]

No, she's like a badass space scientist astronaut!

[...Dial it back a bit.]

Are you the guy who carves things into walls and the fuckin' ground?

[omniavincit]

Oh. [ One syllable, but there's warmth in it. A stifled smile.

Gently teasing: ] What are you, the cops?

[ascocarp]

[She actually laughs.]

Yeah, didja know it's illegal to play creepy tic-tac-toe in this shithole?

[omniavincit]

[ And he's unexpectedly relieved to hear it, a normal human laugh. ] Wish I'd thought of that.

I'm sorry if I freaked you out. [ Such a small thing to apologize for, when she's here talking about fending off shadow monsters. But he is.

Which leads him to— ] Do you know how that worked? Or why?

[ascocarp]

Pshhh, that didn't spook me. Shit has to be way worse to get me.

[It sounds like a child's boasting, nothing more.]

I don't know how anything here works. I dunno if there are even rules, y'know? If there were, somebody would've fucked up and got screwed by now.

...Maybe we just haven't found 'em yet.

[omniavincit]

[ Gruesome. William's conscious of the mounting silence as he turns it over in his head: the cracks riddling this place, the idea of bone and gristle absorbed into the shifting architecture. The idea of her stumbling on a corpse.

It seems remote, somehow. Who's to say they'd be recognizable. ] That's pretty unforgiving. [ It's not a reproach. He sounds thoughtful, a question buried in there somewhere. He wonders where she's from, where a broken rule means you're made an example of.

It comes down to—wherever they are, he can't believe it wants them dead. Capricious, yes. Murderous, no. But he's not about to say that to her. ] Where are you right now?

[ascocarp]

[She shrugs, remembers he can't see her, and vocalizes it.] Yeah. [Because... it is. So what? That's just life. Ellie is kind of starting to hate the feeling that she's weird for being practical (especially after working so hard and fighting so long to become someone this practical).]

In a fancy schmancy bedroom. Or it was, like, a billion years ago. It's weird, there are no moths? But everything looks like it's been eaten by a shitload of moths.