Chapter Text
===> Start Log One.
You are the audience, the viewers of this adventure and the ever-so-generous DIRECTOR has allowed you all a bit of participation in this story. You do not hold much power, but it is still a privilege THE DIRECTOR bestows upon you as you communicate with THE ACTORS of this story.
A soft click is heard on your end as a view of three men stares at the screen with expressions ranging from mild disbelief to amusement. They can see your words now, communication is open, what do you have to say?
hello...?
HAL: Oooh, guys. We got a shy one. Hello there.
Greetings, L4DStuck Dave. I will begin by informing you that your gender is impeccable. I will steal it. You cannot stop me.
With that aside, is there no one for you to “lip bites” at except for the zombies? Do you need someone to put your old ass on a dating app? Do those even exist any more?
Please respond,
- A Green Anon
The eldest of the three men stares down at the screen, his eyes squinting behind his aviators.
He seems to have no idea what he just read but he guesses that the first part is a compliment?
You do earn an unamused look for the last bit though. Quietly muttering to himself “old ass” in a mocking tone.
ayyy congrats on staying alive
HAL: And congrats to you, fellow citizen for not getting your head chopped off too. An award for that is probably not coming your way though. High doubt there is anything that can be shipped or delivered in our current circumstances.
He says this despite the fact that you, The Audience, aren’t survivors, but merely just observers.
Not like he knows that though.
So- how's the weather?
HAL: Well in my humble opinion, the weather is kinda shit. You’d think it’s raining but nope, it’s hot as fuck. Hot and dry. The one and only ‘Scent of Fire’ from 1943.
DIRK: It definitely has nothing to do with the fact you were throwing around molotovs.
HAL:Mhm.
Do a backflip
The director takes another bite out of his granola bar before answering.
D: youre gonna have to specify who does that exactly
Old man might just break a hip trying to be cool and mystique /j
HAL: I think that already happened.
HAL: He couldn’t walk for a solid, what? Three weeks?
DIRK: I’d give it three or five. There was a lot of time he’d complain.
HAL: True, old bones heal slower.
D: you know if youre going to bully me at least do me the solid of letting me pretend that im not being called old behind my back
D: which again isnt even behind my back
D: but yeah sure fine ill potentially break my old brittle man bones for you all
D: as a treat
You think you hear him mumble, “not like there is anything better to do.” as he walks further back in frame. After taking a moment to ensure he isn’t going to accidentally slip and bust his head open via a poorly placed box or wrapper on the floor, he jumps back and flips, landing with a loud stomp as his shoes hit the hardwood floor. Facing the camera he shrugs in a half-hearted attempt to pretend he’s not being smug about this.
D: my bones feel fine sorry to disappoint
What did you expect, he certainly does look like a guy that would casually parkour for entertainment.
how's Joe? is he alright?
HAL: Oh, Anon I’m going to make you feel real guilty for a second.
He leans close to the screen, whispering in a soft, quiet tone.
HAL: That joke can’t work, we don’t have a mom.
hello dudes, looks like it's so far so good. how did you guys find each other? and how long have you been out there?
HAL: How did we find each other? Let’s see. When was it, bro?
D: 5 hours ago
D: i found you two weirdos in the back alley gambling with some undead mafia
D: then one of you clowns thought that you can try and cheat your way outta zombie poker
D: rookie mistake
D: playing dirty and knowing when your opponent is playing dirty is hard wire into mob zombies
D: its their key survival technique
D: you ungrateful asses are lucky i was able to save you before shit got hectic
D: nah im just messing with ya
D: i knew these chuckleheads since they were in diapers
D: be pretty fucked up if i didnt know my own kids
Joe is not exclusively Joe Mama. Could be Joe Daddy. Joe Bitches. Joe Sanity. But ig u don't have any of those either, huh?
This earns you a snort from D as he makes his way over to the twins to read the screen.
D: damn nevermind
D: guess these are just random ass kids i found chillin with the undead
D: sorry boys you apparently radiate enough fatherless behavior that the energy has legally disowned me from the both of you
D: thems the breaks i guess
The twins look unimpressed, both smacking the director’s hands away, voicing their mild annoyance as he ruffles their hair.
How old are yall?
The director sighs.
DIRK: 19 for the both of us.
He gestures between him and Hal. D remains silent. Hal is already snickering.
Nah, c’mon, how old’s your old man?
He looks like he’s having a migraine, his expression tightening when he hears a cut-off snort from Dirk.
D: … . 41
D: happy now
wth... ancient ... ur boys gotta jerryrig u some hip replacements outta like bean cans or smthn
You see him drag his hand over his face before stepping out of view, most likely to sit down.
HAL: Hey, it’s not that bad, at least they didn’t bring up the other thing.
D: god just
D: stop
D: stop talking
is the back pain implying what i think it might or
Nah, just commenting on how old people get back pain /srs
Hal turns tilts the screen over to D. He’s slumped over in a tattered chair, looking like a man that is more tired by people poking at his age versus the zombie apocalypse.
Hal fixes the screen back to its original position.
[DIRECTOR'S NOTE: Poor Poor D. Old man but young dad. RIP]
Enough of bullying D when are we going to start bullying his children
The twins raise their eyebrows up high while staring at the tablet’s screen.
DIRK: Nope.
Hal: Yeah let’s not.
You hear the sound something being unsheathe and a glint of light being reflected in the background… maybe the bullying can wait for when Papa Bear is in a better mood.
do you guys have a base or are you like... nomads
D: nomads for now i guess
D: were trying to group up with some people but thats a long ways away so for now its just a cycle of walking and resting
D: it kinda sucks
Hey so, like, where are you guys?
HAL: Where are we, huh…
HAL: Now if I were to tell you our exact location and coordinates and all that shit, I’m pretty sure you won’t find us there even if you manage to somehow run like Silver or whatever the name of that running hedgehog was.
D: i think you’re talking about shadow the hedgehog
HAL: Nah, the other one.
DIRK: Sonic.
HAL: That’s the fucker.
D: damn i was gonna say knuckles
HAL: ‘Cause he’s red?
D: maybe
Dirk: He’s not even a hedgehog, he’s an echidna.
D: wtf is an echidna
The two of the red Striders somehow distract themselves from the question entirely, and before you know it, they’re discussing the entirety of Sonic Iceberg. Holy shit they know a bit too much.
Dirk turns his head around with a quiet sigh back to the screen, instead, to focus on the question that started it all.
DIRK: Shortly. We’re in a safe spot for the time being.
HAL: Yo, holy shit guys look what I found between the boxes bro crashed.
D: looks like one of your drawings when you were 7
HAL: Ew no. I’m way better than *that*.
y'all r so thirsty just because Dave has back pain don't mean he's getting an ass pounding. he's just an old guy. ancient. skin and bones. probs balding. leave him alone.
My first thought when the other anon mentioned back pain was that dear peepaw suffered from CBDBPD (Chronic Big Dick Back Pain Disorder)-
Don’t be down about being old it just means youre a silver fox right?
Dave is slowly turning from a dilf into a gilf this is so sad
Dont worry Dave, if anything i thing your back pain comes from having to carry such massive tits (big fan btw). Also, everyone else is wrong, 41 is not old, it’s prime dilf material. And oh boy you are one! Also big fan of your work (hi dirk and hal!)
[DIRECTORS NOTE: Yes I’m keeping these in the log. Because if I had to deal with it, so do you guys. Welcome to your Zombiestuck AU on crack, I swear it gets better from here.]
In the background, you hear what could be the sound of choking on your collective audacities, though from what you know, it could also be the sound of a cut-off noise of both sudden bewilderment.
The twins on the other hand stared at the bright screen of a tablet, wishing that they could forget whatever they heard, lips twisting into a slight disgust.
DIRK: I think we need to switch it off.
HAL: As much as I’d love to agree with you, bro, we can simply change the frequency we’re on right now. Then we’ll (and hopefully) get rid of the ’questions’ if you ever can call them as such.
DIRK: That’d be cool.
What are some actually nice things you've learnt in the apocalypse that you don't think you would've gotten the chance learn otherwise?
Good enough Segway you guess, they look less likely to murder the screen.
HAL: How to make explosives.
D: of course you do
HAL: I would say also fucking with electronics but I’ve been already godlike with that kind of shit.
are there anyone other survivors out there? or are you the only three in your area?
DIRK: Don’t know, we haven’t seen anyone for awhile.
DIRK: Wouldn’t matter anyways.
So, is there anything you've gotten attached to that you shouldn't have?
How are you three doing in the middle of a zombie apocalypse
They all seem to have an answer for this, but none seem willing to talk about it yet.
There is an uneasy pregnant pause after the last two questions. The disquieted atmosphere seems to dig at you through the screen. No one talks.
In the silence, you hear the sound of something slamming against a door along with pitchy shrieks and guttural screams. It sounds like it’s from downstairs. This doesn’t break the mood though no…. What actually does seem to snap the three men out is a loud echoing yell.
They flinch before a collective look of agitation forms on all their faces. You hear the director hiss out a curse under his breath before walking in and out of frame, a sword in his left hand and something you can’t quite identify in his right.
You see on screen Dirk adjusting his arms to press against the sides of his head, and Hal sweeping his thumbs down against the backs of his earpieces.
A minute passes before you hear faint ticking and then-
===> End of Log 1.