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feldmanMore Zombie!Fic.
D'Argo is clearly humoring him, but he takes the journal anyway and studies the pages with a sigh. "What am I looking for, again?"
"Just look at it. I can write better than that with my left hand--I can write better with my feet. He's really messed up, man, I'm almost thinking he has some kind of brain damage."
"Well that much is obvious." D'Argo glances up from the journal. "But how does that make him any different from you?"
"Hilarious." John reaches over and pages backwards, pointing out a legible chunk of text from last weeken. "Seriously, D, take a look at the before and after."
D'Argo fingers the pages, comparing the smooth bouncing angles on the earlier page to the shuddering ruts carved into the last entry. Even if you can't read the language, you can tell a first grader's hand just by looking. "You think he injured his head in the explosion on Kanvia?"
"No, man." John shakes his head. "It started before that. It started on that damned ship where we buried one of you."
D'Argo closes the journal. "You buried me in bat dren, by the way."
"Yeah, well, at the time it felt like a Viking thing, tipping you off into the ether."
He slaps the journal against John's chest. "Bat dren."
"You were dead, what did you care?"
D'Argo sighs.
"Look, you got off easy, we didn't come home with another one of you."
"You say that like it would have been be a bad thing."
"Wherever you went, you'd've had to pick up twice as many girls."
"I already do."
"Already do what?" Chiana strides up the corridor with a nervous skip.
"More than his share." John mutters. "Where've you been, I was looking for you earlier and you didn't answer your comms."
"I didn't know which one you were." Chiana's shoulders creep up toward her ears. "I didn't want to talk to the other one. He, uh..."
John and D'Argo both lean in, and she cranes her head closer.
"He tried to uh...he, uhhh..."
D'Argo glares at John as he asks, "What did he do?"
Chi answers with a weird whisper, as if more embarrassed than anxious. "He tried to eat me."
D'Argo growls.
John steps away from D and closer to Chiana. "He fucking what?"
She pulls at the sleeve of her bodice, exposing her shoulder bruised blue and scraped. "I was making crispy grolack and some batter flicked on me..."
"And he attacked you? Because you had corndog batter on you?"
"Something like that." Chiana's head describes a few floaty curves as she avoids eye contact with them both. "Then next thing I know he's biting me."
Both men step away from Chiana and face off as they realize the scenario she pointedly isn't describing. The other John has crossed a far more serious boundary than a little gnawing between friends.
He's put the moves on his best friend's ex-girlfriend. The one who's decided she has more pleasant places to be than in the middle of this.
John holds his hands up, palms out. "He is not me--we're clear on that right, man?"
"You're right. He is not you." D'Argo simmers like stew on a low boil, chunks of dark things rising up and falling out of sight as he stands as breaths with false calm. "He is a dead man."
D'Argo is clearly humoring him, but he takes the journal anyway and studies the pages with a sigh. "What am I looking for, again?"
"Just look at it. I can write better than that with my left hand--I can write better with my feet. He's really messed up, man, I'm almost thinking he has some kind of brain damage."
"Well that much is obvious." D'Argo glances up from the journal. "But how does that make him any different from you?"
"Hilarious." John reaches over and pages backwards, pointing out a legible chunk of text from last weeken. "Seriously, D, take a look at the before and after."
D'Argo fingers the pages, comparing the smooth bouncing angles on the earlier page to the shuddering ruts carved into the last entry. Even if you can't read the language, you can tell a first grader's hand just by looking. "You think he injured his head in the explosion on Kanvia?"
"No, man." John shakes his head. "It started before that. It started on that damned ship where we buried one of you."
D'Argo closes the journal. "You buried me in bat dren, by the way."
"Yeah, well, at the time it felt like a Viking thing, tipping you off into the ether."
He slaps the journal against John's chest. "Bat dren."
"You were dead, what did you care?"
D'Argo sighs.
"Look, you got off easy, we didn't come home with another one of you."
"You say that like it would have been be a bad thing."
"Wherever you went, you'd've had to pick up twice as many girls."
"I already do."
"Already do what?" Chiana strides up the corridor with a nervous skip.
"More than his share." John mutters. "Where've you been, I was looking for you earlier and you didn't answer your comms."
"I didn't know which one you were." Chiana's shoulders creep up toward her ears. "I didn't want to talk to the other one. He, uh..."
John and D'Argo both lean in, and she cranes her head closer.
"He tried to uh...he, uhhh..."
D'Argo glares at John as he asks, "What did he do?"
Chi answers with a weird whisper, as if more embarrassed than anxious. "He tried to eat me."
D'Argo growls.
John steps away from D and closer to Chiana. "He fucking what?"
She pulls at the sleeve of her bodice, exposing her shoulder bruised blue and scraped. "I was making crispy grolack and some batter flicked on me..."
"And he attacked you? Because you had corndog batter on you?"
"Something like that." Chiana's head describes a few floaty curves as she avoids eye contact with them both. "Then next thing I know he's biting me."
Both men step away from Chiana and face off as they realize the scenario she pointedly isn't describing. The other John has crossed a far more serious boundary than a little gnawing between friends.
He's put the moves on his best friend's ex-girlfriend. The one who's decided she has more pleasant places to be than in the middle of this.
John holds his hands up, palms out. "He is not me--we're clear on that right, man?"
"You're right. He is not you." D'Argo simmers like stew on a low boil, chunks of dark things rising up and falling out of sight as he stands as breaths with false calm. "He is a dead man."
no subject
Date: 2004-10-29 12:55 pm (UTC)You just made my day girl! AND before I had to leave for work.
I loved the convo between D'Argo and John, I can really see this convo happening. Especially the deal about the bat drend funeral. *cough* I mean viking funeral.
"He fucking what?"
That just makes me giggle for some reason. *g*
no subject
Date: 2004-10-29 01:42 pm (UTC)Yay! I remember one of the previous installments made you late...