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daybreakers - frankie dalton

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[VOICE | Sand City]

Five days in the fucking desert, starting to wear thin. Easier ways to get a tan, winter or not.

[There's a long pause, just the sound of the sand-scoured wind in the background.]

They say the City's split, yeah? Things better on the other side?

Wouldn't take much, I guess. Running water'd do.

[A few barely-audible mumbled curses, and the transmission clicks off.]

[ooc; since the time difference is mostly handwaved, figure this cropped up early on the 3rd day of Glass, midday 5th day of Sand. ♥ Obviously this will be distorted to anyone in the Glass City.]

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What the fuck is the point of magic if it doesn't fucking have a way to get water?

Fuck if I know.

[She frowns and leans against him a little]

Me gun is full of sand.

What isn't?

[There's a little quirk of his lip, not amused just commiserating.]

A fuckin' gun full of sand.

Totally fuckin' useless.

Could use it to brain someone.

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[ Someone is shouting at you. ]

Eden!

[Cranky crank is cranky, but she replies]

Yeah?

[She has a very good reason to be cranky. ]

Worst comes to worst, can you cross over to the safe base?

Yeah, sure. I can even take the fucking car.

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[This isn't inter-city static, his device is just messed up]

-den with you?

Yeah, she's with me.

You somewhere safe?

[You know, relatively. Since it's a desert full of monsters and all.]

Not yet.

[And his device won't hold out much longer.]

-k after h-

-nd yo- -f I ca-

You're breaking up, doc.

Where? You need a lift?

Brok-n device. I think I'm goo-

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You guys still alive back there?

Somewhere under the pile of fucking dust, yeah.

I'm trusting you with my life, Frankie. Don't fuck it up.

Quit bitching. Find somewhere clean enough to get the sand outta the guns.

How about that nice patch of sand few meters to the right? Or that field of sand to the left? Or that sand in the horizon?

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I feel like a chinchilla.

[Translation: OHAI you're not dead. Cool.]

Chinchilla?

[The feeling's mutual, kid. Wow it must suck being dead in the desert.]

Rodent furball that takes baths in sand.

There's sand everywhere.

And I mean EVERYWHERE. This sucks. At least I don't have to worry about heat exhaustion? Small victories.

Creative.

Lotta sun, too.

[That's as close as you'll get to Frankie worrying about your safety.]

That's what vans are for. And blankets.

[...And not-friends to provide both. Don't mother hen, Frankie, he's fine.]

You a lobster yet?

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