video; @Qubit

[superposition]

[ Though Qubit generally prefers text, he's found that for whatever reason, people seem to think he's more sincere when he uses video. So he goes with that - you only get one first impression. ]

Good morning, Anchor. You may have noticed a grocery store, of all things, has appeared just outside the main airlock... Ah. I'm Qubit, by the way, should have led with that. Anyways, I've taken the liberty of scouting the place out, and I have good news and bad news.

Good news - near as I can tell, the food's still fresh. Bad news - that's more than I can say for the customers. If you do go, don't go alone, and be ready to defend yourself. It turns out the place has a bit of an undead problem.

[ He shrugs, as if to say "because of course it does." ]

On the plus side, the radiation levels are rather lower than I expected. I'd still recommend suiting up if you can, but you should be all right provided you don't - aah!!

[ As he was talking, something whirred in the background, and now a laser bolt hits the wall not a foot from his head. Startled, he drops the comm, but his voice can be heard receding in the background. ]

Son of a bi- [ the feed ends. ]

Comments

[abheirrant]

[If a wince at being called out on his avoidance could be transmitted through voice, one would go here. He's lucky he didn't turn on the camera.]

Er, yes, that's fine. Where shall I meet you?

[superposition]

[ Oh, don't worry, Carlisle. I'm sure he'll properly grill you on your methods later! ]

Do you know where the main airlock is? Surface level, follow the exit signs. You can't miss it. Just wait till I give you the all clear, unless you're equally experienced at dodging bullets.

[ There's a little bit of facetiousness in there. ]

[abheirrant]

Yes, I believe I can find it... er.

[He might not know what a phone is, but he knows what bullets are.]

Another question, if you don't mind? Are the... are the undead equipped with guns?

[superposition]

What? No, of course not. Why would -

[ Oh, right, the dodging bullets quip. ]

Oh! No. Completely different, unrelated problem. Something set off all the defense systems in the top levels. If you're hearing a lot of yelling and gunfire in the atrium, that's what that is. But once we get that shut down, it should be safe to head out.

[ He pauses to rephrase that. ]

... Safer.

[abheirrant]

I've got to admit that your reassurance is not very reassuring.

[But at least it isn't undeads with guns.]

[superposition]

I get that a lot. What's your name, by the way?

[abheirrant]

Carlisle Longinmouth.

[And that might explain the odd username. It's just his name, and it happens to be odd.]

[superposition]

[ Oh, that explains it! Yeah, that explains everything.

Clearly, this man... is British. ]

Pleasure. Mine's Qubit. Talk to you soon, Carlisle.

[audio] → [just going to head on into action]

[abheirrant]

Yes, of course.

[And now it's going to take several seconds, a couple of beeps, and what is likely a colloquial swear on his end before he manages to hang up the phone. He'll just wait near the surface level, but away from the sound of gunfire until getting the word that all is clear.

Even without all the gunfire, he doesn't look particularly comfortable to be there, staying as near the walls as possible. He probably should have informed Qubit what he looks like, but in good news, he sticks out like a sore thumb as it is.]

[PSYCH then text happened]

[superposition]

[ Well, uh. He could be waiting for a while.

Getting into the control room doesn't go smoothly, it turns out. It will be literal hours before another series of messages pops up, these ones in text. ]

Slight change of plans.
Not going to be today.
There were some injuries. Nothing major
Shooting for 0900 tomorrow

[WOW HE CAME ALL THE WAY UP HERE FOR NOTHING]

[abheirrant]

[He just about offers to heal whatever injuries there may be before realizing that a. he's not sure if he can, and b. it might be a terrible idea if so. Instead, he just sends a message back, which seems to be a lot easier for him to grasp than a phone call.]

I thought you were going to take care of the defense systems. Why are you shooting anything if you are injured?

[NO ONE MADE YOU DO THAT CARLISLE, YOU DID THAT TO YOURSELF]

[superposition]

So did I, obviously it's taking longer than expected
& that's an EXPRESSION, referring to the time we'll be heading out.
0900 = 9:00 AM
Please keep up, I have entirely too much of a migraine for this

[THESE TWO ARE GOING TO BE VERY GOOD FRIENDS]

[abheirrant]

You could have just said morning.

[superposition]

Excuse me for being specific so that one of us doesn't stand around waiting for 3 to 6 hours.

[ No, he has no idea what Carlisle's been doing for the past three to six hours. ]

[abheirrant]

[Spoiler: it's standing around and trying to figure out what to do with his time now that he doesn't really have to sleep. Or eat. Or anything that makes him feel even remotely alive and thanks, he hates it.]

Fine. I will be there as requested. Do not die in the meantime.

[to action for real this time!]

[superposition]

[ Have you considered knitting tho. ]

If I do I promise you'll be the first to know.

[ Anyway yeah, Qubit arrives at the airlock in plenty of time the next morning, and the defense systems are presumably well in order by then. He doesn't appear injured, but he is tired and still kind of headachey. ]

[abheirrant]

[Thank goodness Qubit is there, or Carlisle would have been beyond ornery. He doesn't look like he's the cheeriest person in the world as it is, what with the layers upon layers of clothing covering up nearly every inch of him, save for his tired, glowing eyes. He recognizes the man from the video and makes his way over, one hand along the wall as though stepping too far from it would be uncomfortable.]

Mister Qubit. I'm pleased to see you relatively alive, unlike those we'll be dealing with this day.

[superposition]

[ Qubit recognizes the voice, and... it's not at all what he expected. (He may or may not have just been picturing an Aziraphale type.) He raises an eyebrow as he sizes him up, because that sure is An Outfit. Not any style he's familiar with, but it's got sort of a medieval flair, or... no, it's more Tolkeinesque, isn't it? Why the full coverage? Religious reasons? Or, as he approaches closer - ah. Facial disfigurement? He's not entirely sure, but in any case he knows better than to ask.

Ironically, the glowing eyes are the least unusual part of the look.

Qubit nods, resting one hand behind his back. ] Mr. Longinmouth, I presume. Mind if I call you Carlisle?

[abheirrant]

Carlisle will be fine. I am aware my name can be a bit much.

[And aside from a polite dip of his head, that's all the time he gives to introductions -- no handshake or anything. Given the way he's wearing gloves in addition to the rest of his getup, chances are he's not big on physical contact as it is.]

Have you dealt with the undead prior to this place, Mister Qubit?

[superposition]

[ Fortunately, Qubit makes no attempt at a handshake, either. In fact, the lack of one is a pleasant surprise to him. It might just be a cultural thing on Carlisle's part, but he'll take what he can get. ]

A handful of times. [ The Jackson plague comes to mind... those poor children. ] But not enough to call myself an expert, by any means. You said it's something like your job, wasn't it?

[abheirrant]

It was a part of it, as I was clergy in service of the Clarity. Even were I not, my home was, unfortunately, no stranger to the threat of undeath. I would be familiar with methods of dispatching them regardless.

[He gestures for Qubit to lead the way.]

[superposition]

[ A priest, huh? Qubit's not familiar with the deity or religion or whatever that "the Clarity" refers to, but that doesn't surprise him. He is familiar with the trope of priests being super effective against the undead, though, like anyone who's ever seen a horror movie. ]

That's good to hear. The only thing I've tried so far is blunt force, so your methods can hardly be any less efficient.

[ He leads the way into the airlock, takes down a radiation suit and starts pulling it on over his clothing, motioning for Carlisle to do the same. ]

Go ahead and grab a suit. The radiation levels in the store aren't too high, but you'll still want to limit your exposure.

[abheirrant]

[Carlisle's gaze goes from Qubit to the suit in his hands, then to one of the spares along the wall waiting for him. His brow knits, his posture tightening as his eyes flick back to his companion.]

Radiation levels?

[superposition]

[ He pauses. Oh, right. Dude doesn't know science. It's a huge pain, because he both hates and is absolutely terrible at dumbing things down. He's the kind of guy who would be banned from ELI5. But he'll try, Carlisle, just for you. ]

Yes. It's... [ he sighs, struggling to find sufficiently accessible phrasing. ] I'm vastly oversimplifying here. There's a form of electromagnetic radiation - it's light, essentially, but with frequencies orders of magnitude higher than the visible spectrum - extremely high-energy, such that exposure beyond a certain threshold causes serious tissue damage. Burns, GI distress, cancer, death. The whole nine yards.

[ He's gesticulating more and more as he rambles, and makes a sort of backtracking gesture at this point. He knows he found some first grade words in that salad, now to just... string them together for the audience at home. ]

It is... light. Invisible, poisonous light. And outside the station, it's everywhere. Does that make sense?

[abheirrant]

[Carlisle feels his ignorance clawing at the back of his neck, riled by Qubit's exasperated sigh. He doesn't recognize some of those terms, but the ones he does paint a clear enough picture in his head of what this radiation does and why it should be avoided. He still has some questions though, ones he lays out as assumptions as he slowly sets his satchel aside and gets a suit for himself, trying to figure out just how it will fit over all his layers.]

So... it has little to no effect on the undead, I assume. Unless their tissues can be damaged further.