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

[slouching]

( 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.

Comments

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

[slouching]

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. )

it's okay sweetie! :3

[detoxes]

[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...

[slouching]

( 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. )

[detoxes]

[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.

[slouching]

( 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?

[detoxes]

[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.

[slouching]

( 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. )

[detoxes]

[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.

[slouching]

( 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...?

[detoxes]

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?

[slouching]

( And now R's got to shrug too; it's way too convenient, that so much can be said with one simple gesture. He doesn't know. )

Games.. out. ( Shaking his head, slowly. ) N-no time.

( But it doesn't mean he can't go out there, still. He's only known so many things all this time, and now there's worlds' worth of things he has to see, has to experience )

Just - just this.

[detoxes]

Well. This? [She gestures with her only hand.] This is good. Whatever makes you happy, man. You've got all the time in the world.

[slouching]

( Well, he's led a relatively simple, if slightly messy, Dead life. It doesn't take a lot. This place is huge, it can't all look the same, can it? ) Else - elsewhere? From... here.

lol i know that feel.

[detoxes]

Yeah. [She nods.] You might be dead, but - that shouldn't limit your options.

[Pause.] Unless - y'know - [She mimes a gunshot to the head, grimacing.]

sobs into hands and JESUS FUCK I'M REALLY BAD AT HTML COME ON HRRRNGH

[slouching]

( Dis shit is totally turning into a shrugging party. )

Will... still c-come back. Apparently. ( Plus he totally nailed a four-syllable word. SCORE. ) No?

omg boo it's okay!

[detoxes]

[Op. That was a pretty big word. She notices, and is secretly proud of him for managing it. It must suck not being able to communicate. Much like not being able to use an arm anymore.]

You might. From my experience, sometimes it takes more than a headshot. It all depends.

/)_(\

[slouching]

( Zombies probably shouldn't grin, but he does anyway, a grotesque, lopsided facsimile of one. ) Hardy.

asdjfkghsjaldjdhsjs /dead

[detoxes]

[Strangely enough? It doesn't freak her out. She just matches him, trying not to laugh. And failing. There's just something about this undead bro that takes the edge off.]

[slouching]

( Probably because he's not trying to take anything else off............

FLESH OFF HER BONES THAT IS don't be dirty tsk tsk.

And perhaps it's something infectious, a different kind of contagion - the breaths that he biologically no longer needed to take are expelled in a broken staccato of hacks and huffs. )

[detoxes]

[There's been a distinct lack of soul-swallowing, flesh-tearing, and/or body-possessing. So Mia's okay with that. Totally.

She just keeps laughing, relieved that this hasn't taken a turn for the worse.

But - what is - is he laughing too? That's what it sounds like he's trying to do. Poor thing.]

My name's Mia, by the way.

[slouching]

... M - Mia. ( He says, haltingly, tasting the word. It's easy; once the first syllable comes, the second follows. Kinda like 'Julie'.

R nods, a slight incline of his head, and shallowly jabs a finger into his own chest. ) R.

[detoxes]

Yeah! That's me. [She nods, giving him a grin of encouragement. She would clap but - uh. Oh. Forget that.]

Just R? Huh. It's nice meeting a zombie that doesn't want to kill me, R. [She'll just extend her hand for a friendly shake instead.]

[slouching]

More... of us. Back - ( Home? Is that what the structure with its runways, its towering glass and metal ceilings is to him? He's lived in the 747 for as long as he can remember, its once-empty cabins gradually filling with what he finds and brings back - but R's not sure, any more.) - at t-the airport.

( Mia's gesture is, for a split second, wholly unfamiliar, but once he understands R takes it in a stiff, loose grip, his own fingers cold. ) ... Hi.

[detoxes]

The airport? Is that where you live? [Er - reside, she guesses to herself as an afterthought.

Yeah, his hand is cold. She almost shies away from it at the last moment, but she's polite and they shake.]

Hi.

[slouching]

( A short, jerky nod. ) Have... a plane.

( Mia this is legit the coolest dead bro you will ever have. Name any other zombie who's the owner of a 747 housejet. Anyone. )