This is radio nowhere, is there anybody alive out there?

[notathreat]

WHO: Ellie + OPEN (Grab me if you want a custom starter, even if they haven't interacted yet!)
WHERE: Dreamscape!
WHEN: September 22-25 2512
WHAT: Ellie's managed to keep y'all out of her head until now, but everything's got a breaking point.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Violence, death, torture, body horror (zombie-type), violence towards a teenager.

Radio Nowhere

Comments

[notathreat]

The dreams of being back in Jackson don't come as often now, but they're harder to break free of than they were, now that she's so far away. Ellie still feels sometimes that she's living in a dream, that maybe the infection finally took over and she's lurching around a broken-down trailer somewhere, hallucinating a city from the future where she has magic powers and Joel's alive.

This place feels more real sometimes than her apartment, even though she knows, logically, that the dirt on his grave is years old now, not fresh. That these flowers have long since rotted away and faded in the sun.

So Peter's voice startles her. Normally, this is a silent vigil. Alone.

Ellie swipes at her eyes, looking up with a start, then breathes out, rough and shaky.

"... hey."

Of all the people to be here, he's definitely not the worst option.

"You been here long?"

[nerded]

Peter shakes his head, not sure if he should look away while Ellie composes herself. He shrugs a shoulder, shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans for lack of anything better to do with them.

The air feels crisp and cool, but his cheeks heat a little.

"No. No, I just got here —" Wherever here is. "— sorry. I didn't mean to bother you or anything."

[notathreat]

"You're not."

Ellie's voice is a little thick, like she's been crying, but she tries to keep it soft. It's not Peter's fault that he's here. She's just- not good at keeping the walls up, or-

Fuck. It's all a blur.

She reaches up to wipe at her face, shakes her head, gesturing instead at the open gate, the expanse of mountains all around them. Whatever town they're in, it's in the middle of nowhere, but it's a peaceful nowhere.

"C'mon, let's... get out of here."

[nerded]

Peter doesn't call attention to the gravestone, the name on it, or the reason for the tears. He gets it. Oh, boy — he gets it. He might ask about 'Joel Miller' later, but ... for now he's happy to let Ellie lead.

"Oh. Yeah. Speaking of which — where, exactly? Is here? It definitely doesn't look like a place I've ever been to."

Not that he's anything like an avid traveler, but in the past couple of years he's really amped up his mileage. He's got a passport now and everything.

"And also, how come I don't feel cold? That's weird, right?"

Should some of these thoughts stay inside his brain? Yeah, probably.

[notathreat]

"Never?"

Ellie half-smiles, wry, but sticks her hands in her pockets. Her expression is shaky, but she's grateful he isn't prying, is giving her something to focus on. Then again, he's lost somebody too. Maybe it's that he just gets it.

"It's where I used to live. Jackson, Wyoming." Kicking at a bit of gravel that's spilled across the walkway, she leads the way down the path, towards the street. There are no cars, but there are hoofprints, bootprints, evidence of people. Even if the block is empty, the small mountain town isn't.

"S'probably because we're dreaming. It's been a while since I've been here."

The steam of her breath escapes her mouth, soft in the sunlight. It seems too cheery for such a place.

[nerded]

"We're dreaming?" He says this like the truth is absolutely crazy, but actually the moment Ellie clarifies just what this place is, how they got here, it kind of ... all makes sense.

It doesn't take him very long before he has to speed up his pace in order to keep up with her, mostly on account of his pausing and stopping. He tries to catch the light in a certain way, or he bends down to pick up a pebble, hoping to uncover where the dream ends and reality or magic begins. If it is an illusion like one of Mysterio's tricks, it's way better than anything he'd ever done. It feels so real, even when he's in a t-shirt in the dead of winter.

"It's quiet here," he remarks, walking alongside her now. "Is that the dream part? Or is that really how it was?"