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[prettymuchdeadalready]

...This username?

Ain't funny. At all. Are you really that proud of yourself?

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[iatemyboyfriend]

They choose some of the worst usernames sometimes, it's true.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

...I was gonna say yours isn't too bad but um. [Then he took a second look]

You didn't really did you?

[iatemyboyfriend]

...in a manner of speaking.

I mean, I wasn't entirely myself at the time I did it.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

[You don't look like a walker.] ...guess that makes sense.

[iatemyboyfriend]

[More of a werewolf, really.]

Well, it makes more sense in context, but the context is kind of fantastical.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

...Try me.

[Better then a zombie]

[iatemyboyfriend]

Alright, well, you've heard the story of Little Red Riding Hood, right?

[prettymuchdeadalready]

...I have.

[iatemyboyfriend]

Have you ever heard the version where Little Red Riding Hood is the big bad wolf?

[prettymuchdeadalready]

[He has to admit that would be pretty attractive] ...Afraid not.

Unless it's like that book Twilight. With that shirtless guy and the vampire chick.

[iatemyboyfriend]

Oh no. God no. Nothing like that.

But, okay, true story. I'm both. I'm Red and the wolf.

And I ate my boyfriend, Peter.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

[First thought: Wow you're really pretty.

Second thought: That's really creepy.

Third thought:..] ...I feel like saying "sorry" but that doesn't really seem...adequate or appropriate.

[iatemyboyfriend]

I'm dealing with it? I mean, I dealt with it at first, back before the curse.

And then I remembered again after the curse was broken and that was possibly the worst thing ever.

And I realize that I'm probably not making a whole ton of sense right now.

What's your story?

[prettymuchdeadalready]

[Shane has just been listening...this is a trip. Shaking his head he frowns.]

Everyone's dead.

[iatemyboyfriend]

Oh.

[Wow. Okay. That's. Ouch.]

Suddenly having your memories stripped away by a curse, and then magically given back doesn't seem half as tragic as it did.

I'm so sorry.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

...nah it...It still counts. It's the user name, somethin' I told my...

my coworker. [yep. coworker. There's a story there. He's speaking quietly now, almost mumbling]

We're all dead and we all turn into the walkers.

[iatemyboyfriend]

Your coworker, huh?

What's a walker? Because I'm assuming you don't mean the thing that my Granny is eventually going to need to walk around with.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

Yeah. My coworker. [You saw that huh Red?]

...Nah. Not walkers for the old folks. The walking Dead.

[iatemyboyfriend]

Is that all this person was? [Well, there are wolf senses. And the fact that being stuck as a waitress for twenty-eight years (without time ever having moved forward all that much) pretty much ensured that you learn how to read people.]

...you mean zombies, right?

[prettymuchdeadalready]

[of course] yep. Just a coworker. Guy I worked with.

[Shane sighs] that is the stupidest name. zoombies man.

[iatemyboyfriend]

Fast movers, are they?

[prettymuchdeadalready]

When they're fresh.

[ungainly]

[ Being able to laugh at yourself is important. Girls love a guy with a sense of humor.

A pulse, too. A pulse is a plus. Or more like a pre-requisite. Which is probably why I haven't gone on any dates lately. Do you have any idea how hard it is to meet new people these days? ]

Nhhhg. [ Great. Drooling. Way to make a first impression. Come on, pull it together. You know what you want to say, just say it. ] Nnnkind— kind of. F—funny.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

[What. fuck. What the fuck. his hand goes to his gun, draws it and - then the walker talks.]

...Ain't funny. [pause] you talked?

[ungainly]

[ See this is why it's a bad idea to make friends with the living. I keep telling myself to expand my horizons, try to keep an open mind. But a bullet to the brain? Kind of a limiting factor. And not really the kind of 'open mind' I'm going for.

R's hands come up innocently. Or rather, they sort of bob about in an aimless way that vaguely resembles an innocent manner. ]

Nhnnng. Nn. Sur— prise.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

[this is really hard. He's not rotting so much, he should put him down but he's talking] You sick?

[ungainly]

[ Okay, so not dead yet. This is a good thing. This is building bridges, having a dialogue. I can work with this. ]

Nnngh.

[ R's head bobbles around a bit before it finally decides on a single direction, that direction being 'no'. Truth told, he hasn't felt better. Since, you know, dying. ]

Dead? [ His voice seems to dip up slightly at the end. Like he's not sure as if this fact isn't obvious to the guy. ]

[prettymuchdeadalready]

[It's obvious.]

You're talking man.

[There's a sudden overwhelming wave of pity] You are a talking walker.

[The gun doesn't get lowered but he looks a little more sympathetic] .]..Are you going to kill me?

[ungainly]

[ Not going to lie, building bridges is great. But the thought of a meal, maybe a little trip down memory lane — that's downright appealing. But compromise doesn't happen if you end up taking a bite out of every guy who doesn't shoot you on sight. Sure, I might go home happy now, but that's being short sighted. Isn't it?

Again, R's head bobbles, goes left, goes right, up and down, then side to side again. And, just like before, eventually it settles on no. ]

Just ta— taaaaaaalk. [ With a hand, he reaches up to cover his own mouth, hiding his blackened teeth. ]

You are seriously the best R

[prettymuchdeadalready]

...Just talk.

[The gun is lowered by a hair] Am I dreaming?

[nailknots]

It looks like I got off easy.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

At least yours is sort of complementary. At least there's a story there.

[nailknots]

If your writer's anything like mine, they'll be throwing you worse before too long. [ That is to say, he might want to hold on to some of that frustration for later. ]

[prettymuchdeadalready]

Always knew I'd end up split from the group eventually. [slightly bitter] Didn't figure it'd be like this.

[nailknots]

They didn't keep me around much longer, either. [Her own hint of bitterness. ] We should've left when we had the chance. [ She echoes what he himself said just a few days before he died. ]

[prettymuchdeadalready]

...Are you all right? [because honestly he's not too surprised. Hurt but not surprised. Dale, the way they had all treated them. Rick was building his own little unit.

He was always good at that. Bastard.] You got somebody?

[nailknots]

After six months in the forest eating squirrels and dirt, yeah, I'm fine. [ It sure as hell wasn't easy to get there, though. To find some kind of 'fine'. She was going to die out there in those woods, if she and Michonne had done that much longer.

The second question's more complicated. Depends on what he means by 'got somebody'. Although in retrospect, neither definitions were very true anymore. So she dismisses that with: ] I'm fine on my own. [ Which is true. Sometimes. It's more true by the week. ]

[prettymuchdeadalready]

[If Shane were Rick he might say something about the group, about people. He might say something about needing people in your life.

Shane is not Rick.]

Long as you're surviving.

[nailknots]

I am. [ But it's a little bittersweet. He was one of her better friends, back with the group. He should be surviving, too. ]

[prettymuchdeadalready]

That's good. That's all the matters. You can do it Andrea.

[nailknots]

Didn't take you for a motivational speaker.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

Just saying words man. [It's hard to articulate sentiment]

[queenofthegays]

Yeah but if you swap the letters around you get... temperately hay. Curd... Dad.

Dehydrated maturely cap?

Never mind, these aren't even good band names.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

One of those weird kid bands maybe.

[squirrelhunter]

I think it suits ya

[prettymuchdeadalready]

You're an asshole.

[squirrelhunter]

Takes one t'know one.

[prettymuchdeadalready]

There's a lot that I could say here that I'm refraining from. because I am trying. [emphasis on trying] To be nice.

[squirrelhunter]

Yeah? Why's that?

[C'mon, Shane. You know you want to punch the smart-ass redneck in the face.]