Uh — huh. [ That's all very well and interesting, but Shaun isn't paying attention at the moment here, Gary. Something to do with what's on telly here at the pub.
[ it's boring. why would you want to know who the father is. it's probably the guy. the guy she doesn't want it to be because he's a loser, pft, boring. ]
I am, I am. And you look like you could use another drink, if you ask me. [ he's plunking himself down right next to Shaun, enjoy the aroma of thoroughly sloshed Gary King. it smells like deodorant spray and enough alcohol to light the pub on fire. but he is buying Shaun another beer, so there's that. ]
[R opens his mouth, relieved he's going to get a chance to bust out his name because there's days where you forget if you don't practice. You know, the whole walking dead thing. Forgetting what you did yesterday. Shambling around. Eating brains. It sucks like that]
Uggggh.... [Well, crap. It's going to be one of those days. R stares (creepily) at Shaun] Rrrr...R. R!
[There he goes, R looking almost dimly proud here]
[ In Cassie's sketchbook is a picture of two heads. Both of them don't really look all that human, with the amount of different color she's used, but Cassie points to one which maybe has a red tie slung around its head like a tribal accessory. ]
[A zombie could get used to this. R slumps down across the table from Shaun, leaning on it with his arms and swaying gently. Because he's classy, a black string of drool edges out the corner of his mouth and plops on the table. (It's probably seen worse)]
Try...anything. Once. I have...an open...mind.
[R bares his awful teeth in a twitchy smile. It's not too far from a snarl, unfortunately]
Lager, please. For me and my — new friend here. [ Shaun has something of an open mind himself. When you live in a world like his, it's a bit hard not to.
As the drinks are passed to them, his brows furrow. ] You know, I don't think I've ever heard one of you lot speak before. [ His words are tentative. ] Is that — something new?
[They're friends already? R's already glad he shuffled over here. Friends are few and far between and he'd like to have one where he can have a conversation or two. He's still smiling at Shaun, his head sagging to the side]
Not...muh-many of...us...do. It's...hard. [R's hand creeps out to grab the lager, dragging it closer. He nearly spills it all over his lap, sniffing at it] This isn't...alive?
[R almost sounds disappointed as he sniffs again at the lager. ]
[ His eyes grow wide. His mouth hangs open. Seconds after the display, he blinks, coming to again. ]
Not that I'm aware of, no—
's lager. You drink it. [ He downs his rather quickly, draining the glass to its dregs. Setting it down with a soft belch, he taps his chest with a bit of a fist. ] See? Drink.
[Close your mouth, Shaun, because that's a look R's seen on most zombies: this confused "How'd I get here?" look. He likes you looking more alive.]
Drink. Okay, I...got it.
[Taking Shaun's advice to heart, R clumsily grabs his own glass, brings it to his mouth and tries to chug it too. A lot of it slops out down his chest, but some of it goes down.]
How'd...I do?
[R doesn't sound like he thought the lager was all that great]
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Try again. ]
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I am, I am. And you look like you could use another drink, if you ask me. [ he's plunking himself down right next to Shaun, enjoy the aroma of thoroughly sloshed Gary King. it smells like deodorant spray and enough alcohol to light the pub on fire. but he is buying Shaun another beer, so there's that. ]
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Now there's a bit of a double-take. The drink's barely made it to his mouth, lips hanging open as he stares; he's gaping slightly. ]
—Oh.
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Uggggh.... [Well, crap. It's going to be one of those days. R stares (creepily) at Shaun] Rrrr...R. R!
[There he goes, R looking almost dimly proud here]
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That's you. Pay attention, Shaun.
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Whassat? [ you look like you've seen a ghost. or, y'know, your face twin. ]
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This is bloody ridiculous.
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Sorry, it's just. You've got a bit of —me ... on your face there, mate.
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R. Right. [ He leans his cheek to his palm. ] Fancy anything? Lager, maybe? [ What do Zeds even drink? ]
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Doesn't even look like me.
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Try...anything. Once. I have...an open...mind.
[R bares his awful teeth in a twitchy smile. It's not too far from a snarl, unfortunately]
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As the drinks are passed to them, his brows furrow. ] You know, I don't think I've ever heard one of you lot speak before. [ His words are tentative. ] Is that — something new?
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Not...muh-many of...us...do. It's...hard. [R's hand creeps out to grab the lager, dragging it closer. He nearly spills it all over his lap, sniffing at it] This isn't...alive?
[R almost sounds disappointed as he sniffs again at the lager. ]
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Not that I'm aware of, no—
's lager. You drink it. [ He downs his rather quickly, draining the glass to its dregs. Setting it down with a soft belch, he taps his chest with a bit of a fist. ] See? Drink.
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...
Or are y'talking about the fact your uh. Your face. It's kinda. Like my face?
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Drink. Okay, I...got it.
[Taking Shaun's advice to heart, R clumsily grabs his own glass, brings it to his mouth and tries to chug it too. A lot of it slops out down his chest, but some of it goes down.]
How'd...I do?
[R doesn't sound like he thought the lager was all that great]