Joel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aintyourdad) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
expiationlogs2023-02-15 10:07 pm
aintyourdad) wrote in expiationlogs2023-02-15 10:07 pm
001; open;
Who: Joel and YOU?!
Where: Outskirts of Aldrip
What: Joel isn't pleased to be here. He's especially not pleased that someone knows a lot about him, and has it all written on a piece of paper.
Warnings: Nothing yet, aside from Joel's general assholishness.
[ Joel approaches the town carefully. It's long, long habit - infected are dangerous, sure, but people are what you really need to watch out for. People are capable of anything.
And this town? It's way too fucking good to be true. It's just... there. Out in the open, no defenses, no lookouts, no patrols. He doesn't trust it. And he especially doesn't trust whoever left this piece of paper on him, with his personal information, and some kinda crime he's supposed to have committed. The first thing he needs to do is find somewhere reasonably safe, and the second thing? The second thing is to destroy this paper before someone else gets their hands on it.
Then he needs to find Ellie.
No one is armed. No one tries to attack him, or shouts for FEDRA, or anything. Not even on the outskirts of the town, where he'd expect people to be particularly wary. Somehow, despite the tension in his shoulders, despite the glares he shoots at everyone in his vicinity, someone gets him to some sort of... inn, or something? What the fuck.
He finds a table near the back, with his back to a wall and all exits firmly in his sight lines. Then he pulls the paper out, unrolls it, looks at it a moment. Crumples it up in his hand, then goes to rip it up. Except, he can't. A line of frustration appears on his brow as he tries to tear at it, with his hands, his teeth, he even pulls out a blade at one point and tries to cut it.
The only thing he gets out of the exercise is a paper cut. ]
What the fuck is goin' on here.
[ His voice is incredulous (and also Texan). ]
Where: Outskirts of Aldrip
What: Joel isn't pleased to be here. He's especially not pleased that someone knows a lot about him, and has it all written on a piece of paper.
Warnings: Nothing yet, aside from Joel's general assholishness.
[ Joel approaches the town carefully. It's long, long habit - infected are dangerous, sure, but people are what you really need to watch out for. People are capable of anything.
And this town? It's way too fucking good to be true. It's just... there. Out in the open, no defenses, no lookouts, no patrols. He doesn't trust it. And he especially doesn't trust whoever left this piece of paper on him, with his personal information, and some kinda crime he's supposed to have committed. The first thing he needs to do is find somewhere reasonably safe, and the second thing? The second thing is to destroy this paper before someone else gets their hands on it.
Then he needs to find Ellie.
No one is armed. No one tries to attack him, or shouts for FEDRA, or anything. Not even on the outskirts of the town, where he'd expect people to be particularly wary. Somehow, despite the tension in his shoulders, despite the glares he shoots at everyone in his vicinity, someone gets him to some sort of... inn, or something? What the fuck.
He finds a table near the back, with his back to a wall and all exits firmly in his sight lines. Then he pulls the paper out, unrolls it, looks at it a moment. Crumples it up in his hand, then goes to rip it up. Except, he can't. A line of frustration appears on his brow as he tries to tear at it, with his hands, his teeth, he even pulls out a blade at one point and tries to cut it.
The only thing he gets out of the exercise is a paper cut. ]
What the fuck is goin' on here.
[ His voice is incredulous (and also Texan). ]
no subject
[ But ah yes, good question, Joel. ]
No not at all. There are plenty, although I will admit that my people don’t necessarily need doctors anymore in the traditional sense so the occupation has fallen out of practice. [ There’s another tilt of his head. ] What happened to the doctors where you’re from?
no subject
[ Joel looks at this guy now with a mixture of confusion and almost exasperation, because what? Jesus, he tosses a lot out there!!! ]
no subject
Miller. Your last name. Apart from being derived from the Gaelic words for merchant, it could also mean that you’re a soldier, or someone that has big lips. It could also mean a man wearing armour but [ He motions vaguely to Joel. ] you’re not.
Why are all the doctors dead?
no subject
[ Joel, by contrast, is not particularly sorry about most of the dead people. He's far too numb by this point. He lost the person he loved most twenty years ago, and any empathy he had for everyone else pretty much died with her. ]
no subject
[ There's a prescriptiveness and something objective to the way he asks it. Like he's an observer, or a scientist trying to understand something that he hasn't encountered before. He doesn't seem particularly upset or concerned to hear about the fate of the people in Joel's world, at least not outwardly. There's something that shifts in him, something that hates that he can't do something about all of the multiple worlds and universes out there, but it's quickly blown away like sand.
If he were any other incarnation, perhaps Sandshoes or even Bowtie, there would have been more of an effort to comfort the man. But he's not them anymore and never would be again.
And besides, he's learned that he can only do what he can for those in his immediate vicinity. Saving everyone wasn't always the realistic choice. ]
no subject
A fungus. Cordyceps. It mutated, spread to humans, killed a whole bunch. And if you weren't infected, you might get shot anyway, just in case.
[ He, too, isn't really able to put much emotion into this recitation. It just is. ]
no subject
He isn't making light of the awful things that happened, but it's always been difficult for him to reign in some level of child-like wonder at the thought of phenomenon he's never experienced or seen before and that's certainly something he hasn't seen. At least not that he can recall. ]
Mutating fungus? Is it sentient? [ Mushrooms were to some degree depending on the circles you walked in. ] And is there immunity towards it?
[ That would be the obvious step in any infection, but it's less of a mansplain and more of another curious probe into a world that isn't his own. ]
no subject
[ Joel shakes his head. ]
It's not, it just... gets into your nervous system, takes control of your body. That's how it spreads itself. Infected people get violent, attack other people.
[ His gaze shifts for a moment, from the man across from him, to the room, an old habit to keep track of the exits. But he doesn't meet the Doctor's eyes as he says: ]
No immunity.
[ It's not a question he would've expected so directly, to be honest. ]
no subject
[ After all, words and definitions were only what people made them out to be and changed so fluidly like time. So many had blinked out existence from the mere misuse or thought of them but that's neither here nor there.
Joel's confirmation though sparks something else in his gaze. No immunity. Fatal, and devastatingly so from the sounds of it. Tragic to be sure but a curious thing for him all the same. There aren't many things he's encountered in the universe that develop such a finality to them. ]
So you've survived — at least physically — because of avoidance. [ There's a beat. ] This must be jarring then. All this...peace.
no subject
[ Which is pretty much word-for-word what Bill said to him, and it's true, and he knows it. ]
I don't buy any of this.
no subject
Which is why he had such an unfortunate soft spot for them and why he kept sticking around. ]
Anything in particular you don't buy? [ And there's so much of it really; at this point the Doctor is just trying to waste away his time by taking an impromptu poll. ] The peace, the hybrid paper, the locals that seem very happy to welcome us in with open arms?
no subject
[ That's just not a thing anyone with that kind of power would do. ]
no subject
[ He can't help look a little bit amused. He's certainly not trying to defend their supposed kidnappers, but he does think that there's something else here than meets the eye. ]
This could be their version of it.
no subject
[ He nods and indicates the locals in the tavern around them. He doubts any of these people are the ones who actually kidnapped them, though. ]
But it's just a matter of time before whoever did this comes out of the woodwork, and we find out what we're actually in for.
no subject
[ For some reason the full roundabout conclusion seems to light the Doctor's face up, as if he's been trying to get people to see that that's all this is. Statistically speaking he knows this can't be everything. But there's always a small sliver of a chance that it is. Now that's a terrifying thought. But he doesn't let himself go down that particular rabbit hole. ]
All the more reason for you to buck up and and stop trying to destroy a piece of paper that seems to be hell bent on not being destroyed. You can probably find better ways to fill your time like reading a book. Or becoming a merchant if you really want to get literal with your last name.
no subject
[ Joel does not take kindly to strangers telling him what he should be doing with his time, so he gives another attempt at ripping up his paper, not because he thinks it'll do anything, just to show that he does what he wants! ]
no subject
The Doctor is just going to sit there until he seems done with his attempt, a little like a parent watching their child get whatever it is they need to get out of their system. When it feels like he's done, he asks rather amusedly and wryly — ]
Did you figure out how to get us out of here?
no subject
I know I can definitely find better things to do than listen to smug assholes lecture me. See you 'round.