art and whatever my 3 remaining brain cells come up with lol
I go by Fluffy or Ryder! They/them Main fandom is Carmen Sandiego 2019 My art tag: fluffy's art
writing tag: fluffy writes Do not use my art or writing for AI.
This idea has literally been rotating in my head like a rotisserie chicken for at LEAST a year and half (like august 2021 was the first drawing of it I made lol)
And I am finally writing it down lol. Also kinda writing a prequel centered around Dexter Wolfe in the same werewolf universe, I’ll uh post about it when I finish the first chap tho. Eventually.
Anyway lol
First chap is up on AO3. It has art. I’m really proud of it lol
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
It took some time, but eventually Julia built enough confidence that she felt okay going out to feed on her own while Carmen was preoccupied with her magic, something about a spell she was trying, and it could only happen during a very specific moon phase and weather condition.
“You sure you’ll be okay by yourself?” The witch-wolf asked, refilling the little bag of forgetty-powder.
“I think so. You’ve mostly been there for moral support the last few times.”
Which she was still immensely grateful for. Carmen had mostly been there just in case something went awry, but Julia had gotten pretty good at handling things herself with no intervention. She even had some practice using the healing and amnesia magic Carmen made.
Carmen finished with the spells, handing them over. “Okay. You know how to use these. Oh, and remember: Don’t try to drink from their neck. It’s—”
“Like drinking from a firehose,” Julia finished.
The witch-wolf smiled, taking a breath. “You got this. Just stay focused. Whistle if you need me, okay?”
Julia gave a mock salute and stepped out into the night, feeling more sure of her abilities than ever before.
.
.
.
A few hours later, Carmen was quite pleased with herself, writing down the results of the successful spell test, when a knock sounded at the door.
There were really only a couple of people that actually knocked: delivery drivers, and her dear vampire friend. And given it was the middle of the night and she hadn’t ordered any food, she could wager a guess as to who was rapping at her chamber door.
Besides, the knock pattern alone gave Jules away.
She crossed the room, ready to celebrate Jules’s first successful solo hunt, only to open the door to her friend covered in blood.
“Oh, no, what happened?”
Julia was very interested in her own feet. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Well, she doesn’t look too traumatized, so whatever must have happened she was able to use the magic and nobody died.
Though, Carmen couldn’t help but make the mental comparison to a sad little wet bat standing in her doorway. Sure, Jules was covered in a spray of someone else’s blood, but she was kind of cute and—
Ohhh.
“You tried to drink from the neck.” It was less of an accusation, more of a statement/question.
Julia looked up, miserable. “...Forgot.”
Carmen half-chuckled, trying to mask it and not laugh at her. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Julia took the outstretched hand, trudging into the apartment behind her.
Aw, she was so ready, too.
Carmen led her to the bathroom, offering a rag.
“Thanks,” Julia muttered, wetting it and wiping the blood from her hands and arms. She looked down at herself. “...It’s all over my shirt.”
“Yeah, I see that. Here, I’ll toss it in the wash and bring you a new one.”
This was far from the first time she’d come back with blood on her clothes; it was practically routine at this point. Julia peeled off the sticky garment, passing it to Carmen.
The witch-wolf stepped out, and Julia was left alone with her thoughts.
How had it gone wrong so quickly?? She had it! She was ready! She knew what to do!
She felt nauseous.
I lost control.
She’d gotten caught up in the moment, the rush of excitement. It had probably been bordering on too long since she’d last eaten, too.
She had them trapped, pulled off to the side where they couldn’t be seen or heard.
She could feel their pulse racing beneath her fingers.
She heard the blood pumping through their pounding heart.
She could sense where the biggest vessels beneath their skin were.
She couldn’t resist.
Her fangs sunk into skin, hunger overtaking her mind.
She’d just nicked the vessel, moving to actually drink from it, when the sudden spray of blood to the face snapped her out of it.
Her mind cleared, and she realized what she’d done.
There was another reason the neck was less than an ideal place to drink that Julia herself was intimately familiar with. If those high-pressure vessels are severed, a person can bleed out in minutes.
Thank the moon that Carmen had given her the healing spell to use.
And the amnesia spell.
She’d rather not freak the person out and have them realize she was actually terrible at this.
She’d sent them away, confused and maybe a little lightheaded, but otherwise alright.
She looked down at her hands.
Blood crusted and pooled in her nailbeds, settling in the lines of her palms. Carmen’s mirror wasn’t backed with pure silver, so she got a full view of exactly what she looked like.
Crimson smeared across her lips where she’d attempted to wipe it away. Some dripped down one side of her mouth, beneath the large spray across one side of her face that looked like it belonged in a forensic textbook. Speckles of red blended with the rest of her freckles.
She looked like a serial killer that just got back from her latest victim.
She certainly felt like one, despite not actually taking a life.
So, more of a parasite, technically.
It was not as comforting of a thought as she thought it’d be.
She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring at the bloody stranger in the mirror.
She registered the soft tapping at the door as Carmen stepped in, setting the new shirt on the counter.
Carmen took in the sight of Julia stuck in her own head, not looking any different than a few minutes ago.
Oh, Jules.
Wordlessly, Carmen gently tipped Julia’s head back with her fingers, watching dark-brown eyes for any signs of discomfort. The light hit them just right, and she could see the faint red tint in her irises.
Ever so gently, she cleared away her favorite color from her favorite vampire.
Julia muttered another “Thanks,” when she was done, taking the proffered shirt. The graphic tee brought a grin to her face, though, when she saw the design.
Carmen looked sheepish, rubbing the back of her neck. “It was the first one I grabbed, sorry.”
Julia gave her a watery laugh. “No, no, I love it.” She pulled it over her head, smoothing out the image on the front.
In big block white letters outlined in black, it read “I WOLF YOU”, over an image of a gray wolf pup.
Carmen looked around, curled up and comfortable on the couch. Everyone else was moving about with their lives: Zack and Ivy bickering in the kitchen over some small thing as they prepare food, Shadowsan reading a book the next chair over, Player joining them all over the computer. It was peaceful, perfect. It was what Carmen deserved.
Right?
Why wouldn’t it be? This was her life, the life Carmen should have had all along. Something that had been taken from her by that thing, but that doesn’t matter now. It’s all in the past, and dwelling on it will do no good. Dwelling on what got her here would do no good.
But the longer she’s here, the more she learns about who she should have been, Carmen can’t seem to stop wondering whether she would have come to save her if she knew, if maybe she wasn’t V.I.L.E’s best kept secret, she could have had this sooner, wouldn’t have to condemn someone to the fate she had to escape.
Did she really deserve it, what she was undoubtedly was going through now, what Carmen had been through her whole life? What Carmen had done? She really shouldn’t have blamed her for what happened, she had as much a choice in all of this as Carmen herself did. But she still resented her anyway, resented what she had, what Carmen had felt was owed to her. She should have hated the Doctor more, the one who truly pulled the strings. The one who made that fateful mistake all those years ago. But Carmen truly can’t bring herself to. Maybe she got too attached, the years of solitude wearing her down. But speculation wouldn’t do any good now. It wouldn’t matter anyway.
But the growing guilt is persistent, gnawing at her with a ferocity she didn’t really know possible. That everyone should know that their friend was gone, that she needed to tell them. But Carmen couldn’t do it. Despite her own conscience tearing her apart she couldn’t. They’d throw her out, bring down what she sacrificed everything for. And even if Carmen did try to send them for her by obfuscating the truth, she’d still expose her, and everything would come crumbling down. Carmen can’t do it, can’t destroy the life she fought so hard to achieve.
@frozenwolftemplar You know it! Thanks for the tag! (Sorry it took a minute, its been chaos lol)
Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and find the pattern!
Uhh lets go most recent first. These are all gonna be FFF entries (rip big fics lol)
The name websites had started to repeat themselves.
Oh, why did I think going north was a good idea??
Carlotta pinched her eyes shut, trying to force away the wave of dizziness that hit after she moved the microscope slide over too fast.
(skipped the like. setting lines, lol. Technically the first "line" is: 1998, Late Summer/Early Fall.)
Some days Carmen forgot she’d changed her name.
“Carmen, take a look at this.”
Carmen is weird.
The would-be “blood donor” started to panic, but Carmen tossed some of that amnesia-powder-magic-stuff into their face as they turned to run.
Carmen would be lying if she said she didn’t look forward to catching up with Jules after a caper.
First day of classes!
By some miracle, Zack was just fairly bruised with a few small fractures, but otherwise nothing that couldn’t be managed.
With these, it looks like I tend to just jump headfirst into the story! Which, considering these are Flash Fiction with a limited word count, it makes sense! I can't spend too much time setting everything up, I've got a story to tell, lol. I also noticed the couple of times I started with a character's thoughts or some dialogue. The first sentence/couple of sentences is meant to immediately grab attention and make someone wanna keep reading, right? And with such limited "time" to explain, I think I've managed to set the tone, give a little bit of setting and grab attention. At least I think so, lol.
This was fun! It was definitely interesting to see my writing habits laid out in front of me haha.
Anyways, @explosiontheory, you're up! (If you'd like <3)
“if you love this character then you must make him happy in your fics, right?” wrong. the horror. suffering. internal hemorrhage. hospital. immediately
They wandered through the crowded streets, occasionally stopping to look at items displayed in the windows of the shops, every once in a while entering to take closer looks at the items on sale. Gray had noted that Black Sheep never seemed really interested in anything, mostly just letting him drag her along, which was quite a problem given they were out here was to get her an actual closet fit for a teenager that hadn’t been borrowed.
“Are you sure there’s nothing you wanted to wear in any of these shops? We’ve nearly hit all of them and we’ve gotten nothing.”
She gave him one of her blank stares, staring for probably longer than necessary.
“They’re just clothes. I still don’t get why it matters so much what I choose, so if it really bothers you we can just take whatever from the next store.” Black Sheep responded after a pause, still devoid of emotion.
“The point of choosing your clothes yourself is for self expression, you pick what expresses yourself best, what’s comfortable to you.”
He got a shrug for that. “As long as it works why bother with anything else?”
He sighed. Gray really should have seen this coming but it would seem he was hoping for too much that Black Sheep would become her own person overnight.
“Let’s just check this last shop first, yeah?” He suggested, tugging on her arm to guide her to the shop front, a charity shop that would hopefully have enough variety that something might actually inspire something within her.
The inside was organised in rows of clothing racks, organised by article type and ordered by size. The two wander through the walkways the displays made, Gray sifting through each rack and showing off options, each one met with silence and an impassive expression. After placing the next in a long line of failed options, he notices Black Sheep was no longer behind him. He glanced around, searching for any sign of where she could have disappeared, assuming she was still in the shop. She materialised a few moments later slightly behind him, causing Gray to jump.
“Where did you go?! You can’t just run off like that! What if I lost you?!” Gray rushes out. He then notices the alarmingly bright red coat and fedora Black Sheep had cradled in her arms. Not exactly what they were searching for, but it’s something.
“Could I get these?”
They were finally heading towards their home, only the hat and coat to show for their search. It was rather peaceful, the streets clearing as the sun begins to set. Black Sheep had insisted upon wearing the hat all the way, but now held it in her hands, attention focused on the inside.
“Gray,” she starts, for once being the one to open a conversation instead of the contestant prompting they so often had to do.
“Yeah?”
“I think I know what I want my name to be.” He stumbled over himself at that.
“You’ve been thinking about it the whole time?” He asked, still shocked it was something that had been in recent consideration.
“Not the whole time, but I have something.”
“What is it then?”
A pause. Though Gray figured that deciding a new moniker for oneself was probably quite daunting.
“… Carmen. Carmen Sandiego.”
“Quite bold there. I like it. Certainly fits with the coat.”
Gray catches a glimpse into the fedora’s edge, the tag visible reading ‘Carmen Brand Outerwear, San Diego.’ He sighs.
She did not.
“Please don’t tell me you named yourself after the hat?” She gave him an almost earnest look, and he really couldn’t bring himself to knock her down on this.
The others would be hearing about this, and they would not let her live this down.
Last Wolf AU. Bit of a jump wayyy into the future. While Julia is away at work for the day, Carmen, bored at home, starts working on a possible name list for “Bug”, leading her to reflect on her own name through the years.
@explosiontheory
The name websites had started to repeat themselves.
What’s worse, none of them sounded or felt right to Carmen. She didn’t want to stick their poor kid with a meh name. Though, she supposed, Bug could always change it someday.
That’s what she’d done, after all.
But between now and then, the name would have to work.
Except, none of these were good enough. She huffed a small growl, shutting the laptop for now. She stretched her back with a few satisfying pops, sprawling across the couch to stare at the ceiling.
Names were a funny thing.
She’d had so many over the years.
Her parents had nicknamed her “Pup,” using it to refer to her more often in the journals than her actual name. Which, funnily enough, had apparently actually been Carmen. From what she could gather, “Pup” had simply been a placeholder nickname that had stuck, much like she suspected “Bug” would be.
It had been meant to be, apparently. She was always supposed to be Carmen.
But after “Pup”, she’d been Black Sheep.
The odd one out. The drop-out, the runaway.
Carmen didn’t completely hate being Black Sheep, but she did hate the ones who made her into one.
Black Sheep had just wanted to be part of the flock. And she’d thought she was, for so long she thought that was where she belonged.
But then her teeth would flash, sharp and dangerous as she howled under a full moon.
A literal werewolf in sheep’s clothing.
Mostly, Carmen wished she could go back. Tell Black Sheep she was okay. That everything would work itself out, that she wouldn’t find a flock but a pack; a pack she’d build herself with people that truly loved her unconditionally. That someday she’d meet a girl in the woods with freckles like constellations that she could truly let her walls down around. That she’d fall so head-over-tail in love with that girl that she couldn’t imagine a life without her in it.
She hoped Black Sheep would be proud of her. Probably very confused as to what happened to VILE, but hopefully proud nonetheless.
Carmen’s eyes traced the patterns in the ceiling, absentmindedly following the clumps and swirls, alternating finding constellations and countries in the bumpy texture.
She remembered the day she’d found her name, not that she could ever forget.
Carmen Sandiego.
Bold, brash, and so perfectly her that it had easily rolled off her tongue as she’d told Player.
The name had been her first bit of defiance towards VILE.
(Well, aside from the whole escape, anyway)
VILE operated with first names or code names.
She not only gave herself a last name, but one that was as eccentric and bright as her new signature outfit.
VILE worked in the shadows, staying secret.
Guess what, she’ll make appearances before any crimes so everyone knows exactly who they’re dealing with.
VILE kept her hair short for ease of keeping it maintained or staying out of the way in fights.
How about she grows it out and it's as wild as she is and she still runs circles around them even with the mountain of hair beneath her hat?
(Okay, maybe that last one was more of a bonus side effect of hating having her hair messed with by strangers, and therefore just didn’t get it cut until she trusted the siblings or Julia enough to at least trim her bangs where she likes them)
But the point still stands.
Everything she did was to spite VILE.
Even just living a semi-domestic life counted in that. No close personal relationships? Oops, she’s got a pack, a brilliant partner, and a kid on the way.
Well, as domestic as Carmen can get, anyway. That itch for adventure hadn’t faded in the slightest, and she and Julia couldn’t wait to show Bug the world.
She wondered what Red Pack would say when they found out.
She had a feeling her “full” name would probably be used.
Upon telling Zack and Ivy the origin of her name, they’d simultaneously decided that her full name was actually “Carmen Brand Outerwear Sandiego California”.
This had resulted in many instances of impulsivity being met with an exclamation of, “Carmen Brand Outerwear Sandiego California, what were you thinking?!”
The corners of her lips quirked up at the memory of this being explained to Jules, who had long since gotten in on the joke. Playfully scolding her with “Carmen Brand Outerwear!” had only encouraged more mischief on the lycan’s part.
And then she’d learned about her parents, and Wolfe and Valdez had been added.
Of course, the “rest” of her name too, with the others jokingly complaining that it was getting harder to quickly full-name her. Maybe that’s my goal, she’d said, though her tail had wagged the whole night as everyone tested it out.
On paper, or when asked by anyone else, Carmen Wolfe-Valdez Sandiego was her name.
She’d chosen it for herself, and had a little piece of her parents with her in it.
But to her, to her pack, she’s simply Carmen. Or Red. Or Carm. Or Wolfie. Or Fuzzball, Furball, Fluffbutt, Rover, Fido, Clifford, or any of the other ridiculous nicknames her pack comes up with in the moment.
And of course, how could she forget the ever-iconic Red Sox?
Unless she’s in trouble, in which case her name is “Carmen Brand Outerwear Wolfe-Valdez Sandiego California, don’t even think about it!”
Memory lane was a fun stroll, but it still brought her no closer to solving her current dilemma.
Too bad babies can’t name themselves for a few years.
Although, maybe she’d been looking in the wrong spot for ideas. Bug would be half lycan, after all.
Memory sparked, she jumped off the couch to go sift through the piles of lycan journals she and Julia had accumulated in their search for answers. There was one in particular she was looking for…
There!
She flipped through, eyes easily passing over the symbols of Wolfspeak after so many years of practice translating it.
She brought it back to the couch with her, snagging the water she’d forgotten she’d left in the bedroom as she went. She found her page again, opening the laptop back to the empty word document with a newfound wag in her tail.
Rewrite Carm(a complete rewrite of the series)(still a WIP though)
The Iceberg Saga(a minor rewrite that focuses on the consequences of Carmen’s actions post story and follows the question: what if Carlotta didn’t want Carmen in her life?),
Friendly Fire(more exploration on how the world isn’t black or white, but many shades of grey. Also focusing more on Carmen’s bravery instead on empathy)(also Carmen is a trans woman please be normal about pre-op people please)
Fatal Error Pt 2(another rewrite that completely changes canon, adding new threats and going deeper into how VILE runs the world)(there are two parts, this Carm is from the second so she’s a tad older than the others)
Wolf In Shepherd’s Clothing(a continuation of the series, following Carmen learning more about Dexter and just how deep VILE’s rabbit hole goes)
Thief’s guide once again y’all know the drill :P Another with just Carmen and Rocky this week, pre meeting Player and the Boston bois.
@explosiontheory
Oh, why did I think going north was a good idea?? Now it’s the dead of winter and I’ve still got miles to go!
In Carmen’s defense, she grew up in a tropical climate and had never experienced a true winter. The snow was pretty for about twenty minutes while she and Rocky had first played in it a few days ago. Now, almost knee deep in it and trying to keep it from melting into her boots, it was less fun.
This sucks, she decided as she nearly tripped over another hidden…rock? Root? Human skull from someone else stupid enough to be out in the middle of nowhere, Canada in winter?
She grumbled some choice words, finding her footing again to keep trudging through the snow and hoping she didn’t step in a hole. The last thing she needed out here was an injured leg. She dug her compass out of her pocket, checking she was still going in the right direction.
Unfortunately, she was.
There’s supposed to be some sort of settlement to the northeast, towards what’s left of Ontario. She just had to get there, first.
Easier said than done.
See, she’d been at a settlement for the last week or two, hiding and restocking supplies. Then she’d gotten wind of VILE possibly approaching the area, and she’d bolted, despite warnings of inclement weather.
Admittedly, it wasn’t her brightest move, but hindsight is twenty-twenty.
It was too far to try to turn around now, so they just had to keep moving forward.
At least Rocky didn’t seem too upset by the cold and the snow, bounding along like a weird-looking deer over and through the snowdrifts.
He’s probably perfectly warm under all his fur. Being a dog sounded pretty cool right about now. She’d rather be dog friends with Rocky than hiking across the wasteland in freezing weather. Or maybe a wolf. A wolf would be cool and badass. Wait–a fox! Foxes like the snow too…
She moved another branch out of her face, shaking off the pine needles that stuck to her gloves. Her daydreams of canine adventures screeched to a halt at the sight in front of her.
It was picturesque, really. The trees thinned to a massive snow-covered clearing, easily miles wide. The air was filled with that eerie quiet from sound being dampened by snow. It was bright white, and Carmen was thankful it was overcast and she wasn’t immediately blinded by reflected sunlight.
That’s weird.
She didn’t remember her map having a clearing on the way.
She paused at the edge of the treeline, slinging her bag off her shoulder and onto the ground. Rocky sniffed it, then bounded off to chase flurries in the wind.
Where did I…There it is!
She pulled out the map she’d been working on, though “map” was a bit of an understatement. It was actually several maps in a pile that she’d collected and kept adding notes to. A super map.
She found the right one, trying to trace her path and figure out where she was.
Giant clearing…no, that’s not it. The only area big enough to be this is—
“A lake,” she realized. “Okay. That’s a problem.”
Going around would add a lot of time to her trip, and clouds darkening on the horizon only threatened worse weather heading her way.
It had been cold long enough, it was probably fine. Besides, with all that snow on it, it probably meant it was thick enough.
Carmen regathered her things, throwing her bag back over her shoulder and whistling for Rocky.
Rocky stopped sniffing at icicles, trotting back over to Carmen’s side.
This is a terrible idea.
Well. It wouldn’t be the first of the last couple days.
Don’t two bad ideas make good results? Like, two negatives make a positive?
She had no idea; she’d never really liked math.
If she’s careful and quick, it shouldn’t be an issue.
Besides, it’s just her and Rocky. It’d be fine.
Slowly, Carmen eased her weight onto the lake, waiting for any sign the ice wouldn’t hold.
She took a few more steps, grateful for the snow covering the slippery surface. It wasn’t great, and on one occasion her foot slid and her soul temporarily left her body, but eventually she made it about fifteen feet out with no issue.
She patted her leg for Rocky to follow, and the two picked their way across the frozen lake.
.
.
.
“There! The edge of the lake!”
The treeline in the distance had gotten just a bit closer, only about half a mile away.
Tempting as it was to speed up, she wasn’t about to test her luck on the ice. But maybe she held her head just a bit higher.
Once she got past the lake, the town shouldn’t be too much farther. They’re in the home stretch now.
“C’mon, Rocky!”
He barked, as if to respond, and she thought back to her daydreams from earlier, wishing she could understand him. She scratched his ears instead, hoping that was close enough.
.
.
There were a handful of sounds that immediately made Carmen’s stomach drop. The mumbled groans and wheezes of the infected, Rocky’s yelps, and an unexpected human voice in the middle of nowhere, to name a few.
The echoed CRACK of ice on a frozen lake beneath her feet immediately shot to the top of the list.
“Okay, maybe we move a little faster.”
Rocky whined, and they picked up the pace.
Movement in Carmen’s peripherals distracted her, but she kept her head forward, focused on the goal at hand. Can’t stop now; there’s still a decent way to go.
For the second time in five minutes, Carmen’s heart stopped. She should’ve paid attention to that movement.
Behind her, a horde of infected had shuffled out of the trees, about a couple dozen.
“Oh, they’re Freshies!”
Freshly turned infected were the worst to deal with; decomposition hasn’t had a chance to set in yet, and they were still plenty mobile.
And they’d found her and Rocky.
“Okay, time to run.”
Rocky barked, though Carmen couldn’t tell if it was in response to her or to yell at the infected.
The pair took off, hearts pounding in time with their feet as the horde took chase.
The ice creaked and groaned, protesting the new weight of the infected.
Carmen found a new least favorite sound: the combination of cracking ice beneath her, and a horde of infected chasing behind her.
if you’re ever at a vet hospital and can hear dogs/cats howling and screeching and making terrible noises from the back, please be aware that 99% of the time it is NOT because:
Words: 1000 (1k even…this will never happen again)
Rating: T
Warnings: a couple swears, slight emetophobia
Thief’s guide again this week! Enjoy (not yet chief) Tamara and Carlotta being friends for a bit :) surely nothing will go wrong!
@explosiontheory
1998, Late Summer/Early Fall.
ACME’s main compound in what used to be Seattle, Washington, USA.
Roughly four years after the apocalypse started.
Carlotta pinched her eyes shut, trying to force away the wave of dizziness that hit after she moved the microscope slide over too fast.
The knock on the door to the lab made her stand up straight, breathing through the nausea as her friend stepped inside.
Agent Tamara Fraser, a field agent, though she was well on her way to moving up the ranks of ACME.
“How long have you been cooped up in here today?”
Carlotta went back to the slide, searching for any evidence the virus was being targeted by antibodies. “What time is it?”
“Nearly six.”
She paused, doing the math, realizing that she’d been there far longer than she probably should have been.
“Carlotta.”
“Almost thirteen hours,” she finally answered, giving her friend a sheepish look over her shoulder.
Tamara was unimpressed. “Please at least tell me you’ve eaten.”
“Uh,” Carlotta racked her brain, then snapped her fingers. “Ay, Sí! Yes.”
It hadn’t been much, but in her defense her appetite had been rather bipolar for the last couple of weeks.
“When?” Tamara pried.
Mierda, she had her there.
“Mmm, no sé.”
“Carlotta!”
“What? I’m busy. ‘A salvar el mundo’, ¿Sabes?”
“You can’t make a cure to the Virus if you pass out from hunger.”
Carlotta opened her mouth, ready to correct terminology, but—
“I know—” Tamara held her hands up in defense. “Can’t ‘cure’ a virus, it’s a vaccine. You know what I meant.”
She did, but she also kind of wanted to pick a fight about it.
“I’m fine,” she decided to say instead.
“You are not. Just in the last few weeks you’ve been locking yourself in this lab for hours on end. You’re exhausted. I’ve hardly seen you eating. You’re working yourself to the bone over this!”
“Because I know I’ve almost found something! I can’t stop now.”
“Then at least take a break! By all means, you’ve earned it at this point.”
Carlotta was starting to get frustrated. “I’ll take a break when the outside world isn’t crawling with monsters anymore.”
“You’re running yourself into the ground for something that probably shouldn’t even be done.”
“What?” Now that caught her off guard. “Why not?!”
“Just-think about it! You really don’t think a vaccine getting made won’t make everything worse?”
“Last I checked, the whole point of all this,” Carlotta gestured to the lab and herself, “Is to fix the world.”
“Right, but what happens if VILE gets their hands on it? What happens when they steal the vaccines and use them as bargaining chips?”
“Or, what if it actually saves the world? Once there’s no more Infected, VILE can be handled easier.”
“It could become a tool to control people, dangling salvation over their heads. That’d be a good way to do it,” Tamara argued, though her expression shifted to something else at the last sentence.
Something in Tamara’s words and the way she’d said it gave Carlotta a sinking feeling.
What’s stopping ACME from doing the same?
The vaccine needed to be made; humanity depended on it.
But Tamara also had a point.
It could be used as a way to control people, but not by VILE.
The times she’d been allowed out of the compound for supply runs she’d seen firsthand how ACME slowly took over the towns they ‘saved’. Sure, some of them had been a bit more…lawless, than others, but many of them were simply just settlements of people trying to survive.
Offering more consistent food, medicine, and better defenses against the Infected was worth it in exchange for a bit less freedom. ACME gets a new base of operations and trade routes out of the deal, and in many cases, new recruits.
Teens were so easily convinced, desperate to get out of their small towns and see the world, to help…
Carlotta’s mind drifted to the cause of her earlier dizziness. Though, it was still probably almost microscopic at this point, let alone eligible for ACME recruiting. She pushed the thought away.
So maybe she has an ulterior motive for wanting a vaccine made, sue her.
Tamara sighed, “At least come eat a decent meal? They’re doing breakfast stuff for dinner in the mess hall. Eggs, turkey bacon—” She stopped her sentence, noticing the former vet go pale. “Carlotta? You okay?”
Normally, she’d already be halfway down the hallway at the mention of breakfast for dinner, but just the thought of the smells alone made Carlotta’s stomach flip, and she lost the battle with nausea.
She lunged for the nearby trash can, losing whatever was left of her meager meal from…lunch? She was pretty sure it was around lunchtime when she’d eaten.
Once she was sure her stomach had actually settled, she unceremoniously slid to sit on the floor. Wordlessly, Tamara offered a water bottle from the fridge marked “HUMAN FOOD ONLY - NO BIOHAZARDS”, and she took it gratefully.
After a few seconds, Tamara broke the silence. “Carlotta?”
“I’m—”
“Don’t say you’re fine. What’s going on?”
She hesitated for a moment before responding. “It’s just a stomach bug or something. It’ll resolve itself eventually.”
It wasn’t a completely untrue sentence.
Tamara looked unsure, but before she could argue further Carlotta had already gotten to her feet, leaning on the counter.
“On second thought, maybe lying down for a little while wouldn’t be so bad.”
In possibly record time, she cleaned up and put away equipment, glancing one last time at the slide.
Nothing had happened.
She glared at it, as if that would make something change.
It didn’t.
She relented for the night, disposing of the biohazardous slide. She switched the lights off and locked up the lab, promising her friend she’d eat something before she went to bed.
She needed to tell Dexter soon; they needed to come up with a plan.
Carlotta just had to get out of this damn compound first.
