storywalks | she's a work in progress

[The little bow makes him laugh, quiet and breathy. Everyone was so serious these days, and he understands why, he's fallen into it too. But he likes this much better. Sir Teo he will be. He presses a hand to his still heart to go along with the rabbit's well wishes.]

Feels... fantastic...

[Despite her own self-doubt, he already know she was capable. One had to be, to make it this far. But it's exciting to share in the feeling of victory. It feels more like that instead of just another gruelling duty to be performed.]

That's... very good news... Shame about... the bookshelf... but we can... work on that... I'll get searching... for food supplies... in the city... but first... Dibs... on the outdoor pool...

[It's not that he prefers the gross one, but she's still living and he can't get infected more. He'd have washed off in a fountain or river otherwise anyway.]

[Ah -- ]

But it's -- bad.

[Ryder should have expected it, and she realizes that before the words finish coming out of her mouth, doesn't change the fact that at first -- for that littlest bit -- it catches her off guard. Even if he was dead, even if he didn't want to take from the living like her... Biting her lip, she frowns at the ground.]

What if -- we filled something else with the cleaner water, or -- tried to strain it or something first? Even if you can't get sick, I don't -- like the idea. Dead bugs and -- plants. Getting inside you.

[It sounds awful, miserable...dehumanizing. Teo was worth more than that.]

[He blinks as his enthusiasm is met with a metaphorical "stop, do not pass go" sign.

She makes some good suggestions. And, she leaves him with some very bad images. His face scrunches, and his hands fold over his stomach as though he's nauseous. Bugs inside. Yeah, that's a bad thought.]

...Right... that's... smarter probably.

[He looks down, embarrassed. Then sighs.]

Guess I should... go hunt first... anyway... What about you...? Plans for tonight..?

[She opens her mouth, ready to fire words she hadn't fully thought of yet right back at him, but closes it again with a dumbfounded look when he doesn't fight her on it. Being fair, bugs inside is a very bad mental image. It takes her a bit to change gears, and when she does she looks only slightly less stunned? She points out the door.]

Um. [Right, right! She did have something to say about this, too.] I saw -- bunnies. Outside. ...Chancellor Bounce says you have a permit to hunt as you see fit. And, um, signs of mice, I think. On -- few different floors.

[Plans, though... Ryder looks from the fruits of her labor to the door, to Teo, then back down again.]

After getting -- something ready for you, I'll -- bathe, probably. Too. Maybe try -- getting things clean so we can use them. Cooking and stuff. [Or so they could use them for her, seeing as Teo didn't have particularly strict food prep needs.

...Oh!] Drinks! Celebrate moving in, I guess? Mostly -- I wanted to see if -- you could.

[It's strange. He steps around his own eating habits, he'd just expect she'd do the same, maybe more so. But she's kept an eye out and is offering suggestions too. She's even roping it into the game, to soften the edges of it.]

Chancellor Bounce... is very generous... Thank you... Never tried mice...

[Those tend to be small. It doesn't satisfy the pressing urge to bite. But it's worth a try.

He nods along, smiling faintly, then a little warmer at her suggestion.]

Haven't tried... that either... Baths and drinks... We really are... in luxury...

[He's allowed to have spooky needs. He's still her spooky godfather, on top of that whole best friend thing he'd fallen into. Besides, she'd already tried offering regular food more than once, and with it apparently doing nothing for him, there was no point in shying away from their odd reality.

Ryder tries not to show just how pleased she is that he's down with her plan, too embarrassed by her own enthusiasm, but that less theatrical, happy smile that had appeared at the promise of books is back.]

Well -- we deserve it. Other people are exhausting. I'll -- meet you back here...?

Edited 2021-11-26 15:08 (UTC)

[He laughs.]

I'd been missing... living people... before you...

[But it is exhausting having to hide and pretend. It was exhausting to know even that would never be enough. Now there's Ryder. Things are different. He nods.]

I'll be back soon...

[He throws on the filthy hoodie, just to cover up for what he knows will be a mess, and he grabs his quiver and bow. Today Chancellor Bounce sacrifices his people to the zombies. Generous, but not kind.

He heads, stepping onto the green lawn. The light's a bit too bright without the goggles, but he can see well enough that when his prey finally shows up, he makes his shot.

He's on the creature before it can cool, composure lost as his teeth sink in. He leaves very little behind but a mess of blood on his hands and face. He always sits there a moment, after feeding. It takes a minute or two for his mind to come back to him, for him to process his own horror and grief after that.

It's a shame he's contagious, she could use the bones for stew otherwise. It's that thought that brings him properly back. He turns back for the hotel, making his way inside and to find her once again.]

[Before her. She calls herself stupid for feeling giddy over something so simple, especially since it could just as easily not have been her that he decided to tag along with. Just because she wasn't good with people didn't mean Teo was the same. He could have made friends elsewhere, and even if he had to pretend or keep his distance, what made Ryder special in her opinion was...circumstance.

Still. She was special. It's nice.

And that's probably why she spends her time fastidiously taking stock of what she has available, doing some experimentation, and doing some heavy lifting. She understands why the ground floor isn't possible on multiple levels, but it sure would make it less exhausting for her to transport things or retrieve supplies. Definitely going to need that bath, after so much sweating -- and it's good she had him pick up antibiotics, too, since it wouldn't be hard for her to believe this place has plenty of ways to introduce infection, especially with her scraped up palms. How long did tetanus shots last again? When was the last time she upped her immunizations? Hm.

Ryder's at the top of the stairs, on the floor and trying to catch her breath, when he comes upon her. Weak...wave... Next to her is a garbage can she'd gone back to the kitchen to retrieve, inside of which is a swollen garbage bag that sloshes when moved. Because of her focus on making her lungs and arms work again, she hasn't looked at him enough to be offput by any blood -- just a quick lift of her head to confirm it was Teo, then back to dying.]

Need -- adjustments. Maybe -- sheets. Backpack. Ramp? Hahhh. Arms -- noodles. [Okay. With what's apparently an enormous amount of effort, Ryder starts to get back on her feet.] Should -- be enough, now. Ow.

[Inside the thankfully sturdy bag is pool water, which is dragged over to the tub in their room -- already filled partway. Rather than risk opening the bag and sending water everywhere, she sits on the ledge with it on her lap and quickly pokes a hole in the side over the tub. She's tired and sore, but quite pleased with herself for the solution, even if it means that the bags used have less function in the future.]

There! Phew. What d'you think?

[The pool water is still a little grimy on account of no filtration, and it doesn't smell the best even ignoring the chemical smell, but it's infinitely better than the near-swamp the outdoor pool was becoming. Besides, they had lots of soapy things that smelled nice.]

[You would think that being a blood-smeared and creepy undead with sentience would be enough to make you the most unusual sight in any room. You would think, and yet, that's almost certainly not the case here.

He sees Ryder desperately struggling to drag a garbage can up the stairs. He can hear the sloshing of water and is in no small amount of awe that she figured out a way to transport it at all. He blinks up at her. She's barely even glanced at him.]

You... carried water... all this way...? Alone...?

[Obviously, she did, but he's still in disbelief. He hurries up the stairs, catching up with her as she fills up the tub.]

You worked... really hard at this... I'm... I... don't know... what to say...

[Even though she suggested they try something else, this is so much more effort than he ever expected. Or would have asked for.]

You're... kind of amazing... Ryder...

['I'm very strong,' she'd pathetically wheezed after the first trip. But stubbornness would not let her lose against bathtime. She's grateful that at least he sees her being triumphant and not just winded. Feeling properly appreciated for her hard work and too tired to be self-conscious over how she reacts, Ryder beams over and gives a thumbs up.]

Well -- ! You know. [what is it he knows, ryder

...What he knows is,] I said -- do my best. It's my plan. [Her only longterm goal. What he should also know is that she feels stupid indebted to and endeared by him. Of course she was going to put a ton of effort into doing something nice for him!] But I'm gonna -- hurt tomorrow. So don't expect too much help from -- me.

[Might just make designs and notes for how to improve her water-carrying method and stare at the ceiling craving the ability to astral project.

...Awh, fuck. Now she's gotta get on her feet again. Come on, girl... Do it for the well-earned scrub. At least she avoids looking like a newborn deer as she walks over to fill up her arms.]

There's so much, so -- don't worry about using tons of soap and towels. [Sorry Teo, you kind of need it...aaand taking a little hand axe with her to take a bath. #JustApocalypseThings. Or horror movie things! Well, sometimes that's the same.] Laundry -- we'll figure out later.

[BATH! BATH! BATH!]

[He wants to tell her that she should've asked his help, waited until he could do more. But... she worked so hard on this, and he doesn't want to return the gift by scolding her. It's only born of worry for her anyway and it doesn't actually take away from how overwhelmingly grateful he feels.

His eyes close. His smile is soft.]

I'll make sure... to bring you... whatever you need... Butler for... a day...

[He doesn't deserve her. He could never deserve something like this. He wishes he could reach out.]

Thank you... for all this...

[Once she's taken off for her own bathtime, then comes the reality of stripping down and actually looking at himself. It's been... a fair bit. She was fair to think he needs the soap, even if last time was much, much worse.

Piece by piece he's undone. He slips into the cool water, folding a little to fit in the tub. It's a comfort. It really is. Even if, through scrubbing himself down, he does cry in the bathtub. He's proud (not really) to say that it's only once and only for a short time this time, mostly out of wanting to keep the water from turning black. As it is, the color is already not too great to look at.

He scrubs and scrubs until he just about feels clean. Then he pulls the drain, wonders where the water goes now, and dries himself off, being thorough yet again with towels before finally slipping back into his most basic of clothes. Jeans, shirt, tee. The sweater will get a wash tomorrow and then he'll return to its comfort.

It's then that he finally settles on the bed, settled to one side and on top of the covers, but there nonetheless. His black-grey hair is loose and long around him, draping on the pillow and giving him something to stare at. He waits, waffling between checking on her and not invading her privacy. As soon as she arrives back he's got warm smile ready.]

[Butler for a day doesn't feel like it'll be all that different from normal, but the aches in her arms and back tell her not to sass him, even if she knows he wouldn't revoke the offer -- only in jest, maybe. She'll take it and for once not feel too guilty.

Last night was such a failure. This one was shaping up to be pretty damn good, even if her initial test of the water after removing her clothes has her hissing out a series of swears and jumping back. It echoes weirdly despite her attempt to be quiet, the wide, empty area taking up the sound with an eagerness that almost startles her more than the chill of the water. Ryder stills, listening hard for anything that wasn't abandoned building or nature that was happy to ignore her. Wouldn't that be an embarrassing way to die... Imagining Teo coming down to find her chewed up, naked body makes her grimace. She acknowledges that half the reasons for it are stupid.

She shakes her head and eases herself in, this time biting down on her lip to stop further complaints. Phew. Okay. Now comes the actually good part of scrubbing every inch of herself without a care for rationing, massaging and scratching shampoo into her hair, and after bracing herself, dunking completely underwater and shaking her head back and forth to pretend she's some mythical sea creature, equally dangerous as she was beautiful. When she surfaces, she imagines she looks more like the swamp goblin she often feels closer to. Well, at least she smells fucking great. Like vanilla. Ryder's mostly adjusted to the temperature, but all the same, she doesn't want to linger too long and have Teo worry enough that he unexpectedly checks on her. As much as she trusts him, that might still make her want to die. Less inclined to put her dirty clothes back on immediately -- comparatively fresh as they were, coming from the apartment -- Ryder makes her way back tightly wrapped up in the bathrobe and slippered instead of dressed. It doesn't feel quite as soft as it was when she was fully dry, but it's still definitely something to be appreciated.

She's still happily running a hand up and down the opposite sleeve as she comes upon the door to their room, and only stops to reach for the knob, pause, and give a soft knock before creeping in. Teo's smile is returned with a lopsided one of her own before she unceremoniously drops her bundle of clothes, towel, and products onto the floor.]

Hey.

[And now...! To flop facedown onto the other half of the bed, letting herself enjoy it for a bit before moving on to that whole wine plan. Mmm, pillow.]

Bummer I can't -- shave this grown out bit. [Ryder pushes herself up to a kneel and runs her fingers through what was once a shorn patch of her hair. She'd thought about trying it with the disposable razor back at the apartment, but it seemed hard to do on her own. More importantly...] Do you need -- comb yet?

[He props himself up when she arrives.]

Hey...

[And then he promptly drops back down, laughing a little as she flops face down onto the bed. He breathes in deep.

Vanilla. Like a cake, or sugar cookie. He almost says something, but he thinks, coming from him, "you smell nice" wouldn't be the most welcome. Or maybe she'd shrug it off, but he'd still feel embarrassed having to explain what he really means.

He looks her over, her grown-out hair, when she sits up a bit. She looks fine to him, but this is what he saw when he first met her. The part-grown-out look is her. But he understands a change to feel more comfortable.]

Haven't combed... not yet... [He supposes he should before it dries.]

Would offer to... help with... shaving it out... but I don't... want to nick you... [or be around if she gets nicked.] Could snip... with scissors... no one cares... anymore... about evenness...

[Hm... Yeah, given that she still doesn't know how he'd react if she bled around him -- or, more accurately, she could very well guess how he might react -- having him help may not be the best idea... It's a little disappointing. The counteroffer makes her scoff out a small laugh.]

I would care... But I -- guess I don't see myself -- so often.

[There was a mirror at the apartment, though, and another here. Would it really bother her? Slipping her fingers through the overgrowth again, she makes a soft, considering noise. Well, they had time to think. For now, she should retrieve that comb she'd found, lament the fact that she hadn't gotten two right away, that was kind of boneheaded of her, and trot back over to the bed. ]

If you let me -- sit behind you, I-I'll do it. Your hair's -- so long. Longer than mine ever was.

[He laughs softly too. Fair enough.]

Whatever's... best for you...

[He sits up properly as she walks off, curious as to her plan. He falters, some surprise on his face, and then the smile comes back, a little sheepish.]

It is... I think it... was at my shoulders... once... longer now...

[The remainder of his mouth presses. Then, he pulls his legs up to sit, kneeled, at the edge of the bed. He takes a shaky, steadying breath.]

Okay... We could... try that...

So -- your hair's still growing. That's neat.

[She'd be afraid of being stuck with one style after death... It was scary enough deciding to get a haircut as a living person.

Ryder scoots over, taking a moment to herself to curse the fact that either her robe is too restrictive or it doesn't cover enough. How to sit... Eventually she settles behind him with her legs crossed and the skirt of the bathrobe pulled across her lap. It leaves one of her legs pretty bare, but better to flash a thigh or her butt, should he face her again, than her dang labia. With a determined hum to herself, she refocuses on the task at hand -- the lifesized doll in front of her.]

Lemme know if I'm pulling.

[She's trying to be as gentle as possible, though, no matter if it means things are slow goings. Thank god they had conditioner, or Teo's hair probably would have been impossible to get through, after what seemed to be a longass time, now that she can get a comparison of clean or not. Not a nightmare, though. It's almost...soothing, running her fingers lightly through to lift a section to work on with the comb, separating little tangles and knots, then fingercombing again to appreciate the difference and ensure it doesn't need another pass.

Her voice is quiet, trying to match what her hands are doing.]

So you don't -- remember things. Not everything. But sometimes?

I hope so...

[He remembers it at his shoulders when he was different. He doesn't know when the growth happened. He is a little afraid to cut it for the very reason she thinks.]

I'll tell you... if you do...

[He feels nervous, but not afraid. He doesn't know what the worry is about, only the sense of butterflies without any beating heart. It's not that he thinks she'll tear his hair out. He doesn't know.

He relaxes as she works, his shoulders starting to ease down, his breath slowing. He lets his eyes close.]

Flickers... pieces... I remember... life... things before... but not... not me... not as well... [Something about that aches, but he keeps going.] Comes back when I'm... reminded... when things... feel right... My name... felt right...

... I don't remember... when things fell apart... I don't- don't remember... what I've... [He leaves that thought unfinished.] One day... I woke up... I was... confused... and... very lost... It took me a while... to figure out... how to do things... how to speak... and hunt... I had... a letter... in my pocket... It was all... I had... A blank head and a letter... like a full head and blank book...

Edited 2021-11-28 00:54 (UTC)

[Were he alive, the slowing breath would cause a sense of panic to rise in her, but with him and the way his body loses some of that ever-present, necessary tension, she has to smile to herself. He found this relaxing too, she's almost positive. It fades a little as he continues to talk, but her hands don't slow. Maybe linger just a little longer during their final slip through his hair.

Blank head and a letter. Full head and a blank book. Opposites.]

Do you still -- have it? [He must, right? If she held onto something so pathetically for no reason, a link to his past was a more than worthy token. She chews at her lip a little.] I don't know how -- you did it. How you do it now. You think -- I'm amazing? I'm -- really glad...to be able to know you, even if you d-don't, um, know yourself. And I th -- hope -- um. ...I don't know.

[Even without looking, it wouldn't be hard to guess she's blushing, too flustered by that moment of trying to give voice to things that were usually just words in her head.]

[He's almost sorry when it stops. He wants to urge to continue, to tell her it's okay. But, that's pretty stupid. There's no reason for her to do that.]

Yes... Leather jacket... hidden pocket... It's always... kept safe...

[From weather, from blood, and hopefully from gunshots. He hasn't been shot since before he donned a disguise. It wasn't something he'd hoped would happen again.

Her words quiet him. Even if he's naturally quiet, the sentiment snuffs out anything he might've interrupted with. At least until she's done. She falters at the end, but that just warms him more.]

Of course... I think you're... amazing... You accepted me... right away... never even... questioned once... I don't know... how I woke... I don't know... what I'm doing right... but it was hard... until you... It's worth it now... There's something... to live for...

[Leather jacket. Hidden pocket. Always kept safe. She nods even though he can't see her, deciding to protect that jacket just as much as her book. It was a piece of him, and he was filled with as many possibilities as the idea of a blank page. Maybe even more -- a blank page is often talked about as intimidating. You can't return to a blank page once you start, and what if you made a mistake? What if you ruined it forever? What if you ran out of chances, and there was nothing you could do to go back?

But Teo is alive -- sort of. Every movement was a sentence, every pause to catch his breath an ellipsis. He didn't stall progress because he was progress, always evolving even through the mistakes. There was no stopping it. On top of that, he was kind, offering support in a way a page could never do without the imagination to prompt it. Even if it turned out that the person he was before all this was someone he didn't want to remember after all, it didn't change that the person he decided to be once he woke up went out of his way to help others. He wanted to give people like Ryder a chance to keep working on her own story.

His words bring her to blush even harder, and she starts twirling a lock of his hair like doing so might remind her to not read too much into that before she confuses herself. Problem is that she really likes reading, and even without digging all that deeply, the message is sweet as hell. Surface level is still enough to make her giddy.]

You accepted me first, dummy. But -- good. That's really good. I -- want you to live. I like this. Living with you.

[...But she should really get back to combing out his hair before it dries too much and makes it that much harder. At the same time, she doesn't want this to end too quickly... It's nice to be this close.]

[She paints him in poetry in the secret parts of her mind. If he knew, there'd be too many things to feel, so many things to say that he probably couldn't manage. How good she makes him out to be, yet he knows so little of himself, and worse, what he does know, the taste of blood in his teeth. How would he reconcile these versions of himself?

It's not something he needs to worry about yet. Right now, what he feels is the lightest winding of his hair. He wants to turn around and look at her. He doesn't want her to let go.

He almost points out that she's not the first person he's helped-- just the first person he's stuck it out with and who survived this world. She's the first person to write and so he wrote back. But that thought is interrupted.]

Cool...

[It might seem a flippant answer, but there's reverence in it. He holds those words like precious treasures.

She gets back to combing and he hums.]

That feels... really nice... Literally... can't remember... how long it's been...

[Since he was touched. At least, in a good way. His thoughts take a turn then.]

Ryder... is there... anyone you're... looking for...? Anything...?

[They'll make a habit of this, she decides instantly, and before she has the chance to stop the thought from coming out, head so full of ideas it leaks through, why couldn't it hold all these limes?]

You'll have to do me next. So I can -- see.

[Even with her memories intact, she can't remember the last time it happened, either. Not since she was a child and having someone comb her hair was less intimacy and more 'sweetie, look proper for this formal event'. Had she ever had something like this...? Had her mom ever thought about it, with all the other things she thought about letting Ryder experience that she'd missed out on? The thoughts dovetail nicely into Teo's question, whether he knows it or not.]

Um... My mom, maybe. I don't -- know if she's the kind to -- survive this. [Which hurts to say out loud, no matter how many times it had occurred to her. She wants to see her. If she wasn't out there, or had become something else, did she really want to know? Was it a cliffhanger to drive her crazy or a blank page to project hope onto?] She's -- all I really had. I guess I got -- some step-siblings out there, but I never really -- knew them.

[The first thing he thinks is that he shouldn't have asked. But, he doesn't want her to have to hide pain with him. He wants to know her. Maybe as much as he wants to know himself.

He forgot his life. But, in some ways, that spared him. He doesn't know this pain. He knows something is missing, lost, that it hurts, but now what. He doesn't have the details to full comprehend what, if any, wound is there. The survivors? They remember all of it.]

I'm sorry... I know that's... a lame thing... to say but... I hope it hurts less...

[With time. He hopes the woman isn't suffering.]

I guess... we have each other...?

[That also seems like a lame thing to say. He quickly moves on.]

Um... I'd be happy... to comb yours next... I'll try and... be careful...

[At first her only response is to give a short hum, but after thinking on it, she wants to give more than that. It wasn't Teo's fault that things were this way, and he'd probably wanted to give her an opportunity to go search for her.]

Yeah. [At least they had each other. She hadn't doubted that was enough for her until this moment, but what about him...? He had a letter -- it had to be from someone. If he knew anything about where that person was, would he want to leave? She really couldn't...begrudge him that, especially when she'd already told herself she was going to do what she could to help him remember. Trying to keep him exactly how he was when he clung to the flickers of the past he was able to get just so that things would stay like this would make her a crazy person. Yeesh.

So,] Maybe when we run out of things here, we can...head south. I went to school out of state. She might...still be there. I don't know.

[Probably not. But it would give them something to do and keep them going. As nice as living in the apartment had been and how they were ready to make the most if the hotel, now, it would be silly to think of it as something more than a vacation in a world like this. Maybe someday it would be normal again. Maybe others would have this, too. And then they could enjoy it as their life, simple as that.

She combs longer than she needs to, and eventually leans around the side to carefully get his bangs back to normal instead of pulled back. Ryder takes extra care not to touch his face or the ear she discovers has a piece missing as well. It's very strange to see this close, and while she's focused on not hitting against him with the comb, it's impossible not to look. She settles next to him, carefully swinging her legs over the side of the bed and maintaining as much modesty as possibly, and passes the comb over with a shy smile made all the more awkward by her biting her lip.]

Um. Here. I don't -- [She makes a noise, eyes flicking away while she resolves to speak.] ...Know. How to braid. So I can't.

[Not that he'd had a braid in the first place or brought it up as a possibility. Just another Ryder impulse.]

[He wants to draw her in. He wants to smooth her hair. He wants to apologize again which is the least stupid of those ideas. He holds back from it all.]

Worth a try... if you wish to... Can be like snowbirds... south for winter...

[He'd be more certain if he couldn't hear the notes of defeat in his voice. It doesn't mean much, to travel again. He has no connection here. He'll be safe, either way. His connection is to her. Whether she'll be safe staying or going is another matter entirely.

She starts to comb out the hair nearer to the front. He forces himself to be still, his breathing shallower. This is a little less relaxing, several different kinds of anxieties stirring to the surface. But she's careful and it's fine and it's still not all that bad.

When she stops, he looks to see her closer and turns her way. He takes the comb she offers and offers a small smile in return.]

It's okay... I don't either...

[With some of that ease returned, he gets to work, carefully combing bit by bit and untangling each piece by hand. Can't infect hair, he tells himself. It's okay.]

Not sure I've... done this before...

[Combing someone's hair that is. It's another sort of soothing to tend rather than be tended.]

Is it okay...?

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