dear_mun | canon → WARM BODIES. he's new and somewhat shiny.

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canon → WARM BODIES. he's new and somewhat shiny.

( It's like another of those things, isn't it? One of those dreams, except here there aren't any out of body experiences here, the whole thing isn't anything he's ever encountered before, whether as one of the Living or Dead, and it looks like his speech is still shot to pieces. Not quite as small as they were at the beginning, at least, but it's a step backward nonetheless. )

Don't... really m - mind.

( It's a new experience. He'd prefer not to be an empty vessel, and besides, what's there to lose? )

But maybe... should finish reading, first. Almost... done.

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Um. I honestly don't know why my writer chick w-would put me in the s-s-same room with you but.

I kinda know that feeling? Just try to relax. [Hah.] I'm sure the canon review will be done before you know it.

[Sorry, but Mia keeps side-eying. She doesn't have the best track record with the undead.]

( They used to say you could smell fear off someone, though if that was really the case R isn't quite sure he'd enjoy it; it's hardly that which he takes any iota of pleasure in - though whether it's the same for the rest of the Dead, he doesn't know - just the same, sharp scent of the Living. Of life. R glances at Mia, unmoving, eyes placid.

Then he nods. Or at least offers some semblance of a nod. )

A while... after post. Might... read again. Twice. Three times. ( It isn't really a big deal. He's a master of playing the waiting game, isn't he? He's done it for years.) It's okay.

[She's not afraid. Just skeptical. It's really tough when you're put in this situation and lack a weapon.]

Well if that isn't dedication... [She chuckles a bit, offering a relieved smile. He doesn't seem like a threat. If he were, he'd be announcing it by now. Also attempting to kill her. Like they usually do.]

As long as you're okay with just... Sitting around.

Small details. Don't... want to miss any. ( Feeling all right, Mia? At least this guy isn't about to gnaw your face off. )

Not so bad. ( A shrug, because that's what he does. It wasn't as if he ever expected things to turn out this way when he took a bite out of that Kelvin kid's brain. For all he knew, it could've been little more than a routine jaunt out of the airport and back. ) More of the s-same.

Edited 2013-03-25 12:39 (UTC)

I wish my writer chick were as patient as yours. She's still got...what? Two weeks to go? I keep telling her to lay off.

[Oh no. She's fine. Still cautious, but... strangely fine. This guy seems alright. Different than your standard Deadite. If he even is one.]

You don't see much action anyway, do you? ...Don't take offense or anything, but usually you guys are a teensy bit more hands-on. Or vocal. You haven't thrown a terrible pun at me once.

Not... patient. ( Far from it. Saw the film, read the novel, all within less than twenty four hours. His concept of time might have changed since he was last aware, but even R recognises overexcitement when he sees it. ) Too e - ex.. eg - ( -- even if he can't manage all the syllables. His brows knit with the effort, almost imperceptibly. ) ... Eager. ( Which means his writer probably missed out on a thing or three. )

( The last few points take a long while to sink in, his stare cold and unblinking as R considers it. )

Don't... really talk m-much. Usu - usually... dead quiet.

( HE TRIED. )

Edited 2013-03-25 14:29 (UTC)

[She's patient with him, letting him form his sentences - never mind how broken they are. It's fascinating to her, really, how... harmless he appears to be. Sure, she's not going to get any closer, but still. Wow.]

Well. Eagerness is good. Means you might get a chance to do something fun, y'know?

[She smiles, trying not to groan at his terrible, terrible joke.] Really now? I would've never known...

( Dude still deserves a gold star, and hell, Mia can groan if she likes. Heck, she'd be speaking the language. )

Guess... so.

( -- Not that it's even remotely difficult to find something the Dead might consider 'fun', himself, especially. Running in circles on an empty plot of land. Kicking up a sandstorm on the beaches. ) Maybe with esc - es - ( He knows the word, but somewhere along the line as it travels from the tangle of shriveled tissue that's his brain to his tongue, most of it is lost. Escalators. Escalators. Is it so hard?

Evidently it is, five seconds of broken-radio repetition later. There's a short, sharp huff of muted irritation, an expulsion of a trace of stale air. )

[Mia quietly waits for her new zombie friend to complete his thought.

But he gets stuck on a word. And just -

She tilts her head to the side, brow furrowing while she tries to make out exactly what he's trying to say.

And then he sighs. Or - it sounds like a sigh.

She sighs too. And just shrugs her shoulders.]

It's okay. Don't strain yourself.

( It's a gesture he mirrors, unconsciously, one so deeply ingrained that it's little more than muscle memory, a jerky pull of tendons that leads to the lifting and falling of his shoulders.

He waves that thought away, fingers splayed, and focuses his gaze on Mia instead. ) H... here long?

[And now he's copying her and she can't help smiling. The shrug is her trademark response, okay.

When he stares at her like that, she can't help noticing how blue his eyes are. The dead she's dealt with are always staring her down with sickly red or green and yellow. It's a welcome change, one that just further confirms her suspicions - there's probably some good in there, beneath the decaying exterior.]

It's uh - been a few months. Hasn't been too bad. I can't really complain.

( They can either be best buddies or have a shrug-off. THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE etc. )

That g... good? ( He's got nothing to offer in comment; there's only so much he's experienced so far outside of life in the airport, in his 747, beyond the Stadium. He'll get there, though. Eventually. )

[Oh no no. They can shrug and be besties. It's possible.]

Uh - yeah. I guess you can say it's good? I mean - I keep hearing about these games and things. But I'd much rather do what I want when I want, y'know? Not get stuck somewhere.

( The more the merrier, then? )

Ga...mes. ( R echoes, puzzling. He's heard a mention or two of it, somewhere, but not much more than that; he's sure its meaning isn't exactly what he understands it to be. The ones he happens to share a headspace with aren't really talkers, either. ) What...?

Yeah! Games are like - your writer sends you someplace completely crazy. And you're stuck there - I guess? With a bunch of other people and things from all over the place. For however long your writer person wants to play you there. I dunno how else to describe it. She keeps mentioning she doesn't have time for activity checks? [There's another shrug.]

Like I said - I'd much rather be able to go wherever I want.

[She pauses, giving him a smile. Because - enough of her rambling.] What about you? Do you think you'll be sent to a game? What do you want to do?

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SORRY ABOUT ALL THE EDITS i accidentally my words and now my html :(

it's okay sweetie! :3

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