Archer Avery, Chief of Police (comethearchers) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2015-09-20 01:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2018 [09] september, archer avery, calvin davidson |
time is as fast as the slowest thing
Who: Cal and Archer
Where: conversation via telephone, from Archer’s office to Cal’s quarantine
What: Perhaps a little more pragmatic than some about the circumstances Cal finds himself in after being bitten, Archer nevertheless feels the need to touch base. They’re both totally chill about it. Absolutely.
When: backdated to the afternoon of Thursday, September 5th
When the phone rang, jolting Cal out of his fugue of boredom, he was initially suspicious—statistically speaking, was it another friend wanting to chew him out for not telling them about the quarantine?—but when he saw the name on the display, he relaxed. DAVIDSON: Hey, Arch. AVERY: Cal. [Brisk, not brusque. To the point.] Thought I'd check in. DAVIDSON: Thanks. Sadly, nothing much to report, though. [wry] I couldn’t even tell you the last time I stayed put in one spot like this for so long. It’s boring as fuck, pardon my French. AVERY: What, quarantine not a fucking relaxin' vacation? [hint of a smirk in his voice] DAVIDSON: It’s relaxin’, sure. But I don’t think I even know how to relax anymore: it feels like there’s so much better more useful shit I should be doing instead. I keep waking up in the middle of the night feeling like I’ve gone and forgotten something. AVERY: Familiar with that. But y'know you can call. If you can't sleep. 'M up anyhow. And you'll hit the ground runnin' again. When you get out. DAVIDSON: Yeah. [a pause, a huff of breath] How are things on the outside? Still no word on the Annihilator? AVERY: Frustrating. No word. Get regular updates from Laberenz. Like a terrier, that one. [Annoyance a poor disguise for a gruff sort of pride, one Cal's well familiar with.] Otherwise? The usual catastrophes. Managed to convince Jenkins you'll be fine. Only took an hour. Maybe two. DAVIDSON: That man’s liable to give himself a fuckin’ heart attack one of these days. I’m amazed his blood pressure’s survived the apocalypse, honestly. And you told him it was just a human bite, yeah? No sweat. If the day comes that I’m chomped on by an actual zed, then I’ll fret a bit more. AVERY: Yeah. Told him just a human. Him and everyone else who needs to calm the fuck down. [a pause] You're right to be cautious. Half-quarantine. Better safe'n sorry. But pardon me if I haven't written your fucking eulogy yet. Too much shit for us to do for you to go crawler on me. [Hesitation noise, then silence.] DAVIDSON: [he starts to say something, then shifts gears before he can get started] Damn straight. We’ll rest when we’re dead, right? [an awkward pause, a dry laugh] And actually, not even then. Probably just come clawing out of the grave, muttering for coffee and asking for the latest mission. AVERY: Yep. Sounds like us. So. Speakin' of coffee, kid. What's the food like in there? DAVIDSON: Pretty basic. If you were wondering if they served secret untold riches in here: it ain’t. A lot of pancakes, though, which I assume are comin’ from those massive Costco bags of instant powder. AVERY: Could be worse. Half quarantine: half a pancake. Least they're feedin' you cooked food. 'Stead of just pushin' the mix through the door with a mug of water 'n' a lighter. Note that says: 'Can't figure out what to do? Might be a zombie.' DAVIDSON: [laughs, even if he can tell the humour is strained, that this is Archer’s way of bricking up those walls and dealing.] Would that be your litmus test for zombification? I could get behind it. I’ll start carrying around some mix with me just in case. [their jokes aren’t that great, but it’s what they’ve got.] AVERY: Fuck, no. For one, that'll mean you'd probably expect me to eat one of 'em. Save that for when there's actually nothing left 'round here but instant pancakes, that dried ramen shit, and honey. And for another, not everyone who's not a zombie'd pass that test. Not even sure I'd pass it, after a coupla all-nighters. [The chief isn't known for long sentences or conversational paragraphs, but the slightly rusty edge to his purposefully jocular tone has fuck-all to do with how little he usually speaks aloud.] Forget the lousy chow they're shovin' at you. Text, swing by once you're cleared. Can probably pull together something for you that isn't powdered fucking pancakes. DAVIDSON: Awesome. [he’s grinning, and Archer can hear it through the cables] Then I’ll consider that a date, sir, and see you when I get out. It’ll go quick. AVERY: [Hearing the grin seems to finally relax something in Archer's voice.] Sure, kid. Couple more days, you'll be back out here bein' a pain in my ass in person again. Imagine my fucking joy. [Now his grin is damn near audible, too.] 'Til then, drop a line, you need anything. Enjoy your boring as fuck quarantine, Cal. DAVIDSON: Aye aye, sir. [click] |