storywalks | she's a work in progress

[He's quiet a moment. It's not just that she seems upset, or that he doesn't know what to do, but it's her correction. What does he see when he's perfectly happy? What does he do when he has what he wants, all besides the people in a letter that he's not sure still exist?]

What we want...

[He sighs softly then goes to lay down at her side. His fingers finger her sleeve, curling in the fabric in lieu of touching her.]

I can't... have people... not the same... maybe from... a distance... if they thought... I was worth enough... to them... once they found out... If people are... going to forgive me... for being dead... they have to... really like me... and I don't know... if everyone will...

People... you... are what I want... I keep that... by giving... whatever I can... don't think... that I have less... because of that... I'm happy, Ryder.

[After a pause, Ryder turns her head to study him. What a heavy morning it's turning out to be...but maybe that's not much of a surprise, after last night. They sure did jump over some strange intimacy fence that had been covered thoroughly in barbed wire, and here they were loitering around it some more.]

That's stupid. You don't -- need to be forgiven. It isn't your fault.

[But she understands what he means, sort of, and sighs as she glances over to where his fingers fumble about.]

I don't want -- you buying my friendship. I want to think you don't have to. [She feels heat rising up again, but the burning is more behind her eyes and threatening tears than anything. Is she so awful? Does he really think he is so awful?

He's happy. Ryder closes her eyes and breathes to remind herself of that. He's happy with her, so it had nothing to do with just how terrible she was at making friends or just at being, this time. Even if they found others that accepted him, Teo wouldn't immediately jump ship to appeal to them, right?

Her hand comes up, palm out to him, in a silent request for him to take her hand. She honestly can't say she expects him to, and it's pretty selfish of her to try anyway because what she wants is what he wants, according to him, so shouldn't he do this for her? Very, awfully, terribly selfish. Maybe she wants him to buy her friendship after all.]

..."Don't ever let anyone
who claims that they love you
treat you as if you're ordinary.

Because, even at a distance,
I've seen the way you love.
I've seen it so intently
that I could almost feel it, too.

And the last thing I could
ever recall feeling again
is ordinary."

[She won't have to get along with the living, if he really is as happy as he says, but she might choose to, eventually. Maybe. For him. For now she wants to keep feeling special.]

[Nice to see her face, not hidden by blankets. Too bad it means she's looking at his, with eyes that seem flat and blank, a face half torn, hair draping down. He's still capable of looking sad when she says that.

He doesn't think he meant to die. No one wants to be bitten. He didn't want to be what he is. But he knows it's not as simple as that. He's hurt people. Existing, still, hurts people. The risk remains.

Which is why, when she reaches up, he hesitates. He looks uncertainly into her eyes, then back to her hand. He draws his own back, fusses with his own striped sleeve until it covers the reach of his fingers and he can make yet another small barrier between them. But he does hold her hand.

Her words, in tandem with this, make his dead heart flip over itself. Love, she says, but she can't mean that. It's too much. She's quoting. He can tell by her voice. And yet, they hold each other. He tries to tease.]

I think we are... anything... but ordinary...

Edited 2021-12-03 23:55 (UTC)

[There he goes again, bending his rules for her. She probably shouldn't find that so soothing, especially when he was right and there was always going to be a risk as long as she was around him. She can't even get the same warmth from him as he does from her...but it's far, far better than nothing. He gives her even more with his words, making her laugh a little and rebury half her face. She still watches him with the one eye, uncertain but feeling calmer by the second knowing he's with her.

Love would be much too much, but she didn't feel right clipping it down to the middle bit -- the part that reflected the kindness she saw in how they'd "met" -- on its own. Not only does it do a weird tickle to her brain to leave a quote so incomplete, but Teo's right, and she'd wanted him to know she knows. Neither of them are very ordinary in any meaning of the word. Even if the only ones that knew every way were them.]

No. We're -- definitely weirdos. I guess the -- type of people that would renovate a hotel -- in the apocalypse and -- and not run it. [Hm...] We can look...for other places. Something -- like this. And we'll come back if there -- isn't another Every Witch Way.

[It would just be about them until they decided it wasn't.]

Wish we could bring everything with us. [Her smile then is more to herself.] I was a nightmare to move into student housing. Wanted -- all my things. They weren't even useful like -- what we have here.

[Her confirmation makes him laugh. Definitely weirdos. He's okay with that.

He considers her plan and then gives a nod. That seemed like a fair compromise between keeping a lookout and settling down. He has urges for both and reasons for them too.]

Student housing... College...? Or... private school...?

[He thinks for a moment more, frowning in thought as he digs through his ruinous mind.]

Don't think I... did either...

[Compromise accepted, her remaining tension melts away. She keeps her hand in his anyway, and his question has her scoffing out another quick laugh.]

College. No way could we do private school... Even if it didn't think I was going -- to Hell for existing, we couldn't afford it. I only made it into college on -- grants.

[Actually, let her move onto her back, letting go with one hand but not letting him get away from holding onto the other. There. Now she can talk more comfortably, since they're back to things that don't make her feel like something deserving of being hidden away underground.]

Chances are if you did -- there wouldn't be anything worth remembering. Unless -- you had yourself figured out. You might've. [Teo was a surprising individual, so it was possible he was that way when he was alive, too.] Um -- food service. You prepared food at -- your job, right?

[He makes a face at that first explanation. Then shrugs.]

Their loss... We're having... a great time... here in hell... if you ask me...

[He makes sure that, even as she switches hands, his sleeve doesn't drop too much and leave her unprotected. He does like that he can see her face again. But, despite wanting to look at her, he closes his eyes to try and think.]

...Not sure about that... Not sure... in general... I like... the thought of it... of cooking... but it's... hard to remember... a specific place... I remember... driving... I remember... radio... and fields... and cities...

[Pfh.]

Yeah. It's not the worst.

[What a weird way to feel about hell or the zombie apocalypse. Guess the problem with sending a certain kind of person to hell is that they find plenty of good company.

She watches him trying to remember, making up for the watching he can't do. Her mouth quirks up at one corner, a little amused, but in a sad way.]

That could be anything. If it's a lot of that, maybe -- trucker. How confident -- a driver do you think you are?

[His mouth twitches up to hear she agrees. It is weird to find joy in the aftermath, and it's not as if they don't have their scars and theirs sorrows, but there's a lot left that's worthwhile.

At least in his view.

His brow furrows as he thinks more.]

Not... truck confident... [Maybe a smaller truck...] Sleep... in the car... confident...

[Hm... Homeless after a failed restaurant opening, then... Or a traveling taco truck. Very far traveling.]

I've gotten pretty confident -- in that myself. Lately.

[At least in regards to their newfound good friend The Car. Other cars might still suck. The fact that they never moved anymore so they didn't make her sick when she was trying to read was a point in their favor now. ...Or another point in the apocalypse's favor.]

Oh -- or an RV. [To continue the theorizing she'd previously only been doing in her head. If he had a mobile home, that's got a kitchen!] Um. Did you want to try? Being in the kitchen here? Or -- since there's nothing to cook, I don't -- know...

Who would've thought... what a good skill... it would be...?

[He doesn't actually miss it, all the cars moving about. He sees the remains of old wrecks like the remains of people. He doesn't think he's slept in a car more than one or twice since he woke up like this.

He hums at the thought of an RV, not sure there but not against the idea either.]

I'm not sure... I want to... but... I don't want... to waste... or... contaminate... [He frowns.] Maybe... cooking gloves... camping tools...

[get ready for a BIG EYEROLL, TEO.]

It's been -- sitting there. Not used. Not cleaned. Might not even work. The food is -- mostly gone bad. [She abandons his hand so that she can poke his shoulder a few times instead, trying to annoy him into listening to her whims.] Come on. Get -- me back on my feet again, we're going.

[Because he wants to!!! And that's reason enough even if the kitchen was stocked and ready.]

[He sees her BIG EYEROLL and raises in turn SMALL POUT. The effect is ruined by having only half a mouth.

She pokes at him and, with his sleeve-covered hand, he goes and gently waps her right back. Take that!!! Though, he has to admit, she has a point.

With huff, he rises up, pulls the sleeves over both his hands, then offers them out to her. Up! She goes! And off to that biohazard of a kitchen.]

[She splutters the littlest of laughs at his counter and her smugness is only ruined by the wince of pain as her sore muscles are stretched. No good deed goes unpunished...! Ryder rolls her neck and shoulders in an attempt to ease the feeling, but all it does for the time being is leave her with a grimace. Onto happier things, then. She hums as if that's enough to say "Let's go!", dips to pick up her handaxe, one of the packs of matches, and the apron with another soft hiss, then pushes their door open. She tosses the last item back over to him. It's their own little world, fulfilling for her even though she knows underneath her fun that there's no one else here but corpses and animals trying to survive.]

It is too bad... Homecooked meal would be -- heaven.

[That laugh brings a very real danger of making him smile again! But the wince helps to temper that so he looks worried instead, at least until she's humming and moving along. He shakes his head and he follows, blinking at the apron that's thrown back at him. It feels familiar. It feels nice. So, he throws it over his head to wear, tying it around the back.]

I guess that's... the trouble... with old-fashioned... cooking... the light and noise... draws the dead... But... if I can learn... outdoor cooking... could make up... some camp food... Maybe...

[It'll still require finding fresh food. That's tricky. Both for her to find and for him to control himself when he catches things.]

That or... we get a generator... some means of... electricity... Miss electricity...

Edited 2021-12-05 22:15 (UTC)

[Huh. He looks...nice in an apron. That's unexpected, considering that it goes against his whole punk aesthetic and there's nothing overly astounding about an apron -- not to mention again that whole thing about appreciating someone's looks in a real way. Weird. But no matter how weird, it was still true: Teo looks nice in an apron. Maybe it was because it was something that was natural to him and made him feel more like himself, or the person he once was. She doesn't know. She supposes it doesn't matter, when none of it exactly mattered in the first place.]

Mm. That's -- really useful. You'll know what we can get away with. [And for outdoor cooking... They'd need to head into a suburb, right? That was all perfect cookie cutter families that grilled every Sunday and had a lovely week of camping during the summer. That's how she pictures it, anyway. It's nothing like her idea of a generator, which is bizarrely connected almost exclusively to the idea of zombies in her head. Oh, video games...] Aren't generators noisy -- too? The only place I can -- think that would have one is a hospital...

[So: great for him, but getting her safely around it would be a lot of work. What does a generator even look like? Maybe they could look in the basement here.]

Electricity really would -- be nice. We need it. Um, in our future hotel. [Since they're dreaming.]

[He opens his mouth, closes it, then tilts his head.]

I'm not... sure... haven't run one... [That he can remember, of course.] Definitely... something to test... first... Might be... the sort of noise... the dead ignore... if it's... consistent enough...

[Before he brings it here and a whole damn horde. That's what he wants. To have to hide her away while he goes killing the dead. What a fun way to spend a week.]

But if we get... electricity back... we can have fridges... ovens... microwaves... We could have... heating... fans... could have... a light at night...

[Much as the idea of a butler appeals to her conceptually, in practice she's pretty bad at it -- at least when her butler is Teo, who shouldn't have to do half the things he offers, plus all the stuff he doesn't offer and just does on his own. She wouldn't do well hidden away and worrying, even if she knows by now how well he can handle himself, especially with the undead. It's a good thing she's not hearing his mental griping and instead thinking that it's fascinating that there's something that could be nothing more that background noise, even for them. It makes sense, she supposes. Just wouldn't have thought about it on her own.]

They have a light on them -- in games. Um. But blankets can fix that.

[It would be some time before they had to worry about that, anyway. Stretching an arm across herself -- weird with an axe -- Ryder peeks over through the curtain of her bangs and makes a tiny noise in thought.]

I -- found a flashlight. And some batteries. And I bet -- candles. If we really want a light at night. ...No solution for -- fridge.

[In games. He suspects others would joke, but, it's not as if anyone had actually anticipated this sort of world happening outside of games and the occasional horror show.]

Blankets... or... break the light...

[There's not much reason to use flashlights or candles these days. At least not any safe reason. But there is one.]

Can read books... into the night... [And that's as good a reason as any.]

I guess... we'd need to... work on having... things to even...preserve... Fruits... Vegetables... Shame about... no dairy... and then... if you learn to... catch things... you'd have to... prepare it...

[He glances at her uncertainly, not sure if she can stomach such a thing.]

[Ryder learned the world through media, mostly. It's worked out so far.]

The only things I know about growing stuff -- also comes from video games. Stardew -- Valley. Harvest Moon.

[But maybe the seasonality will help, if they manage to find anything. Do seeds go bad? It just got buried right away to grow again, but they'd get killed off eventually... She'd have to be careful even before they were growing!!! Babies are tough even when they're plants.

The animals, uh... Video game shit would be less helpful with all of that.]

R-right... You'd just eat it, huh... [No delicate way to go about that. If it stopped looking like an animal, it'd be easier! But unfortunately she's the one that would have to make that possible unless Teo got a miraculous level of self-control soon.] I thought about -- raising chickens. Well -- first I thought rabbits, maybe. They -- well, you know. Multiply. But, um, eggs seemed. Easier.

Probably more... than I know...

[He's willing to admit that. He can't remember a thing about gardening, which is a shame, because he thinks that, if he truly was a chef, he would've liked using the freshest ingredients possible. Straight from a garden sounds like it'd be amazing.

Unfortunately, his new diet consists of straight from the bones instead. He grimaces as she comes to the correct conclusion and nods. He's glad that she understands and he doesn't have to explain that more. Self-control with people is tough enough.]

Oh... that's a good idea... don't have to... do much butchering... just have eggs... probably more than... could even be used... But where to... find a chicken...

[When they have their little farm hotel home, Teo deserves a gardening outfit. A cute apron, nice boots to cover in dirt, gardening gloves for physical and mental comfort both, a cute straw hat. Ryder can wear a bandana in her hair and have cargo pants to hold all their tools. Cooler boots than Teo.]

Yeah. Only when -- the birds get too old. For eggs. [Too many eggs isn't a bad problem, either. Whether they invited people to rest for a while or not, it would make good trading or even bait for other critters. Foxes eat eggs, she thinks.] We have to make a -- shopping list. What to look for as we head south.

[She lightly jogs to get a few more steps ahead and push open the door to the kitchen area, large and cluttered despite how empty it is. After you, good sir.]

But -- seriously. Don't open the freezer.

[They sure are looking snazzy in her dreams. Two punks taking to the softer life. Which, they are attempting in as much as they can, given the state of the world and everyone else in it.

On the other hand, he can't help pondering eating the potential chickens they speak of. How long does it take for them to get old? He's not sure.]

A shopping list... sounds so normal... [It makes him smile.

He steps into the kitchen, but not without giving her and the freezer a raised brow.]

...That bad...?

[He is a corpse, after all. And he's seen lots of other corpses. But, he'll take her word and take a look around the kitchen.

It's seen better days, but most things have. He checks the cupboards, knowing there won't be much for food but finding himself pleased to see there are spices left behind. Garlic powder, onion powder, chilli powder, salt, pepper. He opens another for dry goods and finds lentils. He grins.]

Can of... tomato paste... could make you... vegetarian sloppy joe...

[Hardly high cuisine, but still. He moves on, finding a pan and bringing it to a less-than-tidy stove. He holds it there, closing his eyes, imagining the sizzle and pop, the bustle and chatter just beyond, a faint ding...]

[As serious as some of their conversations have been, there has never been a moment before that Ryder has looked so intensely at Teo.]

Open it and -- we're not friends.

[That smell is going to haunt her for years, and also he doesn't need to see the puddle of barf from earlier. Her threat disappears from possibility as he takes stock of things and offers up mana from heaven.]

What? Really? Is that -- No, you're being hypothetical, right? [Could...could he really, actually make her that for real... Would he? Even if it wasn't warm, that would be so much more. Oh, shit, is she ruining his moment... He's doing some reminiscing, isn't he? That was the whole point of doing this, and she's getting all worked up and interrupting him.] ...You look nice. Like you -- belong.

[That first comment makes him cough his way through a laugh. All through her questions, his grin remains. He hears her, even in his daydreaming. He's not ready to open his eyes though, not ready to--

Fingers graze his skin, brushing over his cheek, pushing back the longer strands behind his ear. He sees a small, slight smile and he's not sure what to make of it.

--Wake. He blinks.]

I... do I...?

[He glances down at himself, then at the rest of the worn down kitchen. He laughs ruefully.]

Guess I do... [He smiles at her.] Help me find... tomato paste... can opener... something clean... utensil or gloves...

Edited 2021-12-07 00:39 (UTC)

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