[Oh... It didn't work that time. That's frustrating. She lets her arms fall with a growl that rattles around her skull and distracts her from trying to figure out what he's babbling about. Maybe if he doesn't appreciate her efforts, she won't do that mimicking thing that had made him happy before, either! Hmph! That'll show him.
...Something really isn't quite so sure why she's taking it so personally, but it's a little interesting, she supposes, that she can take it personally at all. Something was just something. It was the more, she concludes with a long rasp of whatever air had managed to find its way back into her lungs. Well, that more can do whatever she wanted. Something's got other business to attend to. Time to chew on her hand -- the other one that isn't covered in the weird texture, now -- and wander off. God, she's hungry.]
-- onnn.
[There was this open area... Or mostly open. There were a few stragglers not worth paying attention to and these...waist-high things cluttering the place up that are stubbornly staying in her way. Annoying. Something slaps ineffectually at one's flat top, trying to claw through it, before looking about with a puzzled furrow to her brow. What made her think this was right?
...This answer doesn't come to her, either, so something decides it must not be important. What's important? Oh. Where's that guy? He knew things. She needs to copy him again.]
[He tilts his head at her and her growling, but he only looks amused. When it was him, he wouldn't have thought the process of awakening was any kind of adorable. He'd think it was as monstrous and ugly as him. But, right now, he's seeing it in her, not youthful or innocent, but something close.]
You're right... best to... move on... can decide... as we--
[He stops talking, watching as she goes about slapping things. Now he looks confused.]
[It's frustrating. It's so incredibly frustrating, not knowing why she's been driven to do something, but feeling driven all the same. She curls her fingers when he doesn't have a suggestion for her, and scrapes them slowly across the table, pressing insistently like if she tries harder, it will suddenly be clear to one or both of them. What is this, and why is it important to her being hungry? That bit of herself that was muted under a pile of dirt and worms wants to kick it over, or -- flip it? Something about flipping it seems appealing, but she can't direct herself to do it even if that whisper of a voice really would enjoy that. And she can't chew on herself, she's reminded as she brings that hand up.
Maybe if it hadn't been such a hard day for both of the hers inside of her, she wouldn’t be fighting back those tears that are just starting to go cloudy again. She’s furious with herself and this wall in her way, or at least as furious as she can be. Hungry and in pain, but numb.
Something huffs and shoves the table again before swiping her hoodie sleeve across her face. Okay, focus. Try again. Maybe it wasn’t this thing specifically that was supposed to help feed her, but something related? Maybe it was — like whatever was on the other side of the wall. Just had something between it and the meaning. She doesn’t pause to try and figure out how much sense that made, the way someone else named Ryder would have. Something just stumbles off to trail a hand — her nails, her destructive predator claws that could grasp and hunt — along the wall until she came to a gap that led to another…thing. Not table. Counter? A counter with something familiar on it. Something curls her fingers around the top of the computer monitor that was used to take orders and sat above a now-exposed and empty cash register, shaking it back and forth. Give food.]
[Her eyes have gone shiny. He sees the tears welling up but more notably, he sees the way she wipes them away with her sleeve. That's an entirely human gesture. The dead didn't care if anyone saw them wail. The dead hardly knew what they cried for.
Just as he's going to wipe her tears, she's wandering. But, it's not her usual sort of wandering. This has purpose. He watches her go up to a restaurant counter like she's about to ask for a large fry. He watches her shake the cash register.
It might be funny, if it weren't so crushingly sad.
He goes to her, walking to her side and then taking her hand. Then the other. He looks into her face.]
I'll hunt... I'll hunt for you... But it won't stop... it doesn't stop... we're hungry... I can't fix it... I'm sorry...
[He tries to draw her back. Time to leave the little shopping center. He should've realized the answer to his earlier question before he asked it: the best thing for her would always be food.]
[She growls, but she lets him pull her back and drops her arms as if they're filled with lead so that he's the only thing keeping them up. They're hungry -- yes, he's right. She's really hungry. He understands again. But...
Something blinks, slow and dazed, as she struggles with the rest of his words. Doesn't...stop? It never stops. This was always. If she could be tired, that might be exhausting, but she was always, too. She didn't stop. It would all balance itself out, wouldn't it? He seems upset about it, though -- different from the way something and the other one is upset, she thinks. Toddling along after him, her shoulder jerks again and her elbow follows, then her hand. Her fingers flex experimentally before grabbing with more purpose, taking his. Properly holding his hand.
Okay. They will go find something. Together. Even if she forgets, the feeling what's there always alongside her, so she can't forget, not really.
'Try t' r'member... Don't wanna -- '
Yeah. She'll do it. Right -- he's here because she let him stay. Her brows furrow before she nods limply to herself and grips his hand a little tighter again. Remember he's here. Remember he'll find something. Her...? Or for her? Okay. Either way is fine. Something will stay with him while she looks to fill this emptiness inside.]
Ssss... [agh ehh? oop? heer? Her eyes roll as if she can see the options on a wheel in front of her and she has to settle on one. There's more. Her mouth moves, testing it.] Aay...fff.
[She takes his hand. He slows and looks back at her. Did she mean to? Is it habit or...?
Her eyes are just as blank as his own, but her brows are furrowed in the way that his are, small expressive bits of proof that they're here. They're still here. Her grip tightens. They're still here and every sign she gives breaks his heart all over again. So of course, she's not done breaking it.]
Yes... [He smiles and breathes a laugh and wants to cry.] Yes, I... said that I'd... keep you safe... that you were... safe with me...
[He hopes she's never done breaking it. He reaches out and pushes back a bit of her hair, for no reason other than the impulse to show affection.]
[The hand coming her way gets as much of a look of curiosity she can manage, slowed in an almost drunken way as something tries to pilot her eyes without moving her head around too much. It's harder than she'd expect, especially after nearly managing that same thing just seconds before, and as much as she still doesn't understand the things he does, the brushing away of her hair feels a bit like a reward for all her effort.]
Mmuhhhm.
[With something like optimism driving her forward, something gets moving again, intent on tugging him along if she has to. Food, food, food...]
[The hunt goes much the same. He takes a shot, they rush for the creature, she gets to eat and it's not enough because it's never enough. Only, this time, there isn't anything for him at all. It feels like agony, just as it does for her, he's sure, but his lesser mind insists that he's missed out despite knowing it will do nothing for him.
He wants to scream. He doesn't, of course, but he's starting to see the problem with this. She's not capable of sharing-- the frenzy takes over even him, even now. She's also not conscious enough to be left alone. The hunger doesn't go. But his grip on consciousness and sanity can.
He's got time. He can go a good week, probably more. He might even be able to go a month or two. The dead that wandered about certainly weren't finding food every day. He could push it, probably.
But, eventually, he needs to eat. He needs something and it's got to be for him and he can't be competing with her for it. He can't take care of her if he can't take care of himself.
All this stretches out. While he's sure she'd like him to keep on hunting, he's got to make a plan for something else. He's got to find her shelter.
The good thing about being dead is that they don't have to be quite so picky. Ground floors are just fine, if one can find something that wasn't destroyed in the chaos and later looting. A nice building. A nice bed. He guides her to it.]
I know you... don't feel like it... but... I need you to... sleep... Feels nice... helps us too... Be more sane... More human... What do you say...?
[Unaware of life outside of the one fading out in her hands, and especially unaware of the painful dilemma she's causing, something desperately licks whatever remains and blood she can, even after there's nothing. There has to be more. She needs -- she needs there to be more. How is it all gone already? And not just what had been on her lips just a blink ago, but that warm feeling inside of her, too. It's as if instead of filling up that emptiness, it only kept going. Down, down, down into...
The rabbit hole, a voice inside her she can't quite pinpoint supplied. It's tired, but something can tell there's a vague amusement to it, too. She sits, staring at nothing, and tries to understand. She hears the crunch of someone approaching her again, cutting off the faint explanation of, Because you ate --
That voice wasn't doing much for her right now except confusing her and making that void inside all the more obvious. The person here, this fellow something that was something more on his own, had given her many things. Bending what attention she can control to him is the better of the ideas. She stumbles and teeters along, asking things in her nonsensical, gurgling way and letting her voice click and crack between growls. It's a little fun, even if it doesn't accomplish the goal of making herself understood. For now, she's content enough that the frustration doesn't build again.]
Aaaa... [Hm. Something's tongue is too heavy, lazy after fighting to be fed, so it doesn't let her go for the sound that's whispering through the little thought processes she has. Skip it.] Ss.
[Yeah, that tired voice wryly agrees. Definitely ass.]
Nnn...!
[I know, I know. "Alice". Just shut up and let me have something, alright? Christ.]
Ass. [She's trying to be as petulant as the other girl inside, insisting on the name, but she still can't make her tongue cooperate. Well, fuck.
She doesn't counter something again, though, and she can go back to babbling in peace until Teo seems to be instructing her. Focus...on him. Feels...nice? Something looks from him to the bed with a slow wheeze that's only pushed out from the movement of her body. There's a fuzzy feeling of liking this strange rectangle, once. Like before in the food court, she gives it an experimental scrape of her nails. It's different. It's closer to the hoodie he'd pulled over her head, the creature that had melted away piece by piece, no chance her teeth, and his hand. Something does indeed like it, she decides.
[He does his best not to laugh at her dubious cursing. She's concious enough that there's a chance she wouldn't appreciate it. But oh, he does want to laugh.
When she does it again, he winds up just coughing.
No laughing now though. Unless she decides to laugh at him for attempting this.]
Yeah... I know... it's confusing... Just hear me out... Copy me...?
[Well, time to lay down on his side along the bed and feel really silly about it.]
[She stares at the bed. She stares at him. He moves onto the bed and she stares at him and the bed at the same time.
You're at the combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell.
She's hungry.
He feeds her. He likes when she copies him. That's what he just asked her to do, right? If she does what he does, then he'll be happy and feed her again. It's harder than she would have expected to lift her knee onto the edge of the bed to join her palms, and she stops and stares at it while questioning whether the creak came from it or the mattress. It doesn't answer her. She doesn't know if she would have understood anyway.
Something tries to steer her attention back onto the road, but she's drifted too much to know where that is for several moments. Oh, but she's in the middle of crawling, and moving is something she knows how to do, even if every part of her is aching. Once she's kneeled on the bed, something sees Teo again and remembers. Right. She's copying him. Her stomach protests, but there's a vague feeling someone else might have named relief going through the rest of her as she makes herself flop down onto her side.
Her blank eyes, silence, and lack of movement once she settles all make her appear more like the corpse she really is now.]
[She stares at him and he thinks of how stupid he feels and probably looks. At least she can't judge him. Maybe. Probably.
He stays where he is and he waits, even as she seems to get lost for a moment, in her head as much as the unfamiliar surroundings. Hello, Ryder, earth to Ryder, come in Ryder, we hope you can hear us. She's crawling and then kneeling and looking at him still.]
Go on...
[He wonders if anyone else in the world has had to teach another being how to sleep. He wonders what advice they would give. The internet would be nice about now.
Down she goes. She looks very, very dead. He hopes like hell that he's not going to wake up screaming.]
Okay... Good... Comfy...? Resting is... very nice... but we have to... be still... let our heads... be quiet... eyes shut... Don't worry... if you get... too afraid... [For whatever reason.] Just shake me... will wake... Promise...
[Please, please sleep. He closes his own eyes and hopes he can pull it off himself.]
[He promises something again. That's good. She eventually give a slow blink, not that he'll be able to tell, with his own eyes closed.
She waits. Nothing happens. She decides to copy him some more, but that just means that nothing continues to happen. There aren't new sounds. There's no smell to draw her anywhere in particular. There's nothing. The quiet is nice, and so is the softness beneath her. It feels somewhat familiar to that part inside, but still, it feels like nothing. Why are they doing this? Why aren't they continuing, going, always, forever? Something waits to see if either the voice or Teo will explain it to her, but all she gets is more nothing. It's empty. It's gaping. What if she can't ever fill it, the way she couldn't ever fill the hungry void?
If she gets too scared...she's supposed to do something. Something can't quite remember what it was, but trying to focus through her eyes again, she wonders if the man across from her would know. He knew how to solve a lot of the problems today, or however long it's been since she's been with him. Still... He did so much for her, and she did nothing. Is that why it's like this now? Is that something...she can change? Something gives the man another slow blink before starting to push herself up.]
Ehhhv...
[Oh. Why is she so heavy? Determined, because she's been doing nothing for long enough now, she tries to throw all her efforts into it again. She doesn't stop -- that's what she knows. Something just has to keep going, even if it's hard and doesn't always make sense...
She hears a pop and comes to a stop for a moment, and there's a snap when she forces it even further. Even though it can't do anything to stop her, something notes that the other voice inside would be making a face, if she had any control over it. She doesn't have much of a face she can make right now, actually. Half of that feels a little heavier, too, but even though she's moved, there hasn't been a weight pulling her neck anywhere. That's stiff like everything else. How long has it been since the pop and snap interrupted the nothing? Was there a reason she was pushing herself? There...must be. Something reaches out to Teo to prompt him for an answer, forgetting that that arm is the only thing keeping her up now and dropping to the bed again with a bounce and a gentle sound that's almost a crunch, nose now half-smushed between her face and the mattress.
Ah. Hm. It seems she is staying for now, even though she'd already been so good and stayed still for...
[There's another mercy to sleep. Besides the small ways it clears his head, besides that he might dream or that she might sleep more in future and allow him to go off on his own. There's also the way it breaks up that eternal going on forever. Existence breaks down into parts, pieces. It's easier to hold in his mind. He can't better make sense of what things happened when, as opposed to the long string of things occurring otherwise, blending together into an untidy nothing.
Despite his nerves, he does manage to sleep. His dreams are less like dreams and more like choppy memories. All the same, it's something. It's broken up a little by noises that tempt him to wake up, to check, to be sure and be safe and so ruin the sleep he's managed. He has to tell himself not to.
But then she jostles the bed. He stays still for a while longer, but it's too late. He's up. He cracks his eyes open and...
She's face down. She's not breathing, not moving, and that doesn't necessarily indicate that she's asleep, but his heart almost jumps out of twinned fear and relief. Now. He has to go now. Okay...
He slips carefully from the bed, not wanting to move her, to make her stir. He's got to be quiet as he steps out and away and he's got to make this quick as possible so he can get back to her. But he's got a chance to hunt.
No rabbits for him. He's pretty sure he hit a squirrel, though, he's eaten with such fervor, he could believe it was just a rat. There's nothing left. It's agony. But, under that, it's relief. He did it. He did it. They might actually be able to do this.
He creeps back to her, to bed, and crawls on there. She's still there. He stares at her a moment, thinking she doesn't look peaceful at all, face down like that, but reaches out and brushes her hair anyway.]
He moves and the odd floundering going on in her head settles in response, assured now that he's --
No. No. She can't reach out and hold him there or beg him to take her with him, body and brain not cooperating with each other, let alone Something's wishes. She couldn't even begin to start explaining why she felt it so intensely. Maybe for that reason, it's good at she can do nothing more than strain her eyeball to the very edge of her vision, trying to see him or at least where he was going. Why wouldn't he wait for her? Why wouldn't he stay?
You promised! You liar!
Something groans into the mattress, too buried and immobile to make the vicious complaints that she wants to, or the pathetic cries for...someone? The question catches something offguard enough that her temper starts to fizzle out, leaving her to think and do more waiting during the nothingness. It doesn't last long. Her stubborn streak kicks in and has her fighting against her body with a renewed focus. Maybe that "someone" would elude her, but she can still reach him, surely.
It's exhausting. There's a few minutes where she lets the ache get the better of her, and she falls into something almost like sleep could be for something like her. It's over before she knows it when the man comes back, giving her something new to want to bite him over. That had been better than the endless waiting, minutes and thoughts alike crawling like ants. Why did he have to disturb it? That wouldn't have happened if he hadn't left in the first place.
Her griping is quieted at the gentle, soothing touch. She's not cured of her bad mood, of course, and she tries to convey that with a growl, since a glare is currently impossible. Not having more than the barest trickle of air to work with, it comes out as a single click scraped over her vocal cords. Something starts struggling against herself again and is pleased to find that even though it's still difficult, her work from earlier has made it so that her muscles have relaxed enough again that she can turn her head to the side and give him a drowsy blink of an eye. No urge left to sink her teeth into him and tear him apart as punishment, even if she can tell now that he smells more tantalizing now than before. Maybe it's just from how she'd been "sleeping", but something is almost...pouting?]
[She moves. He wasn't expecting her to move. His hand draws back and he looks duly contrite to be caught in the act of brushing her hair. He can't make out the growl for what it truly is, but when she turns and looks at him, the pout is clear.]
Oh...
[She's been awake. How long has she been awake? He'd know if he'd been here. His heart sinks.]
Oh.
[He nearly bites his lip, stupid old habit. Especially when he went out of his way to bandage her hand to prevent the same thing. He shifts a little to grip his arm instead.]
... I'm sorry... I thought... No, it's... I didn't want... To trick you... I just... didn't know how... else I'd hunt... And I did... really want... to help you sleep... I need food too... I couldn't... fight you for it... I'm sorry...
[With something's pupils blown, her reproachful stare shouldn't be cutting or focused. They're duller than any living person's eyes. Still, the fact that there's more there than silence buzzing through her mind makes it clear that the pouting isn't just lingering for lack of anything better to think. She's not swayed by his words. Maybe she would be if they made more sense to her. As it is, he's doing his usual babbling...and something waits for him to wind down before growling and unsteadily pushing herself to her feet. She buckles a little as she puts pressure on the left where her collarbone is broken, but doesn't seem overly bothered by it. Something leans towards him to sniff like maybe that will help satisfy the craving inside her, but decides quickly that that isn't the case. Even less reason to forgive him for wandering off without her. Hmph!
Nevertheless, even when something takes the initiative to wander, she doesn't stray far without him. She has no real goal in mind, after all. They start to progress further through the city, check out buildings that blur together for something, and make grumbling conversation that makes more sense from one side than the other. She learns to gnaw at the dog toy instead of her knuckles, though it causes some pain and confusion for others like her that hear the noise and think it's their lucky day. As angry and territorial as she is, intent on defending her toy, her companion, and herself, there's that terrified feeling stirring in her gut again when she snarls and claws at another undead that gets too close. It isn't until Teo later helps clean her up again that she stops to dwell on it.
Something is powerful. She's unending. She knows this. There shouldn't be a reason to fear things that weren't abandonment. Did it have to do with that "more"? Did she really have to look to her to find answers? Yet another reason to hunch her shoulders and snarl.]
Hhhh...err.
[There's no answer, and something bites down hard into her chew toy, imagining warm blood to soothe her irritation. All it does is make her even more hungry. It's time to get going again.
Long after she's given up on getting a response, she feels a sharp tug that jolts her forward before rooting her in place. She snarls, questioning what she is supposed to do, when there's nothing obviously food, but --
Her head tips unnaturally and the sight makes her still -- tense at first, then relaxed. Something doesn't have to understand why it's happening to know that she has to follow the feeling. Going up so many steps, she thinks, is perhaps easier now than it might have been another time. Before. She sneers tauntingly at the inner voice, happy to win against her at something so handily. Ryder is just content to be getting closer to a world of worlds made of words.
The large windows of the library's main doors are shattered, but muscle memory has her reaching for the handle anyway. Her aim, focus drawn elsewhere, is a bit off the mark, leaving a gash through her glove and sleeve's end that quickly darken with thick, oozing dark brown blood. The smell more than the pain causes something to recoil, snarling again as if telling her hand that it should have known better than to be rotting away inside. Nose wrinkled, she makes another reach for the handle and jostles it only to find it locked. Standing next to the gaping hole in the glass as if it still held strong, something looks around to seek Teo's wisdom.]
[She rises up. He thinks she's going to fight, but when have the dead cared to fight? But she's hardly like the rest either. But wouldn't that make her less inclined?
He goes back and forth like this, stupidly, until he catches the way she buckles. Automatic, he tries to reach out, to steady her, and further double-check what's wrong. She hasn't the patience for this. She determines he's not food and continues off and he's left with no clearer idea as to what's wrong.]
Ryder...
[He pleads, but it's too late to get himself out of the doghouse. He says and starts after her.
He's not unused to being led. He's followed after survivors dozens of times. Hell, he followed her into that shed, even though the very thought made his stomach churn. The only difference now is that she's dead, like he's dead, and so the path feels even more aimless than usual.
She does take to the dog toy. That brings relief. Less damage done-- for her anyway. When other dead are drawn, rushing like they're prey, there's a second in which he falters, a noise of fear slipping free before sense catches up. The dead are looking for a dog. Not them. A dog. They are dead and the dead won't--
That thought is interrupted as Ryder claws at the face of one of the other dead. Another bad memory flashing in his mind like blinding lightning, there and gone but searing marks where it was, putting pain in his jaw. He pulls her away. The dead aren't bothered by the offence but he can't bear it. He takes charge, leads them to water, and cleans her up again.
He hasn't talked enough today. She's not going to make progress if he doesn't. This fact makes him feel like enough of a broken thing that he sighs raggedly and draws a hand down the good side of his face. He misses that first rasped out word. He nearly runs right into her when she suddenly stops.]
Ryder? What--
[His brows furrow and he looks up at the building. Then his eyes go wide.
He watches her make her way to the door. He doesn't know if it's funny or just sad, the way she tries with that. She looks to him for help though and either way he's not about to deny it. He steps up and guides her from the door. Her hands are taken in his. He steps back, through the opening of the big glass window, knocking shards off with his elbow to keep them from catching on her. Then he pulls her forward.]
[Her mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish as she stares at Teo like gears are slowly, slowly, excruciatingly slowly turning around behind her eyes.]
Rrrr.
[Something, despite already being partway through the window, wrenches one hand free so she can make a weak reach for the handle again. Let her in! She wants to read! Moving it isn't easy, even with her brain ignoring the pain of it, and she's given up by the end of her groan. It's just in time for her to look back and realize she's not outside anymore. Something's head tips the way a puzzled dog's would, then she's back to blinking stupidly over at her fellow undead.]
[His mouth presses and he tries very hard not to laugh at her for reaching back for the door. He can only imagine, as a newly awakening undead, he was likewise pretty stupid. Maybe even extremely stupid. But hey, they were trying.
He nods his head, pulling her further.]
Reading... It's where... the words you hear... and think... are written... And they become... stories...
[He doesn't know if she'll be able to do it. He was capable of reading, but he's not sure how along she is. The page could be nothing more than a page to her, or even simple "not food" and so uninteresting. But she's surprised so far.
He grabs the first one in reach, a little picture that was left to moulder with it's spine up. He picks up and turns it over to her.]
[Reading. Words. Stories. All important, just like the thing he's reaching down for that she tries to assess with narrow-eyed bemusement.]
Rrhm.
[Not just reading. The way her hand comes up, it must look like she's about to go back to chewing on the bitten off stump, but instead, it's the rest of her fingers that touch her lips, just the tips. Something's familiar about it, and something wonders if it really will make thinking easier like she feels it will. Something else he'd said. It wasn't quite right, but it...
What was it?
Written, but not.
It's you, the voice prompts, trying to be encouraging but coming off glum with how unfair all of it was. She'd never get her dream. Hell, she doesn't even know if dreaming is a thing. Back to the point -- Or me. Who you used to be.]
Ruh... Ryyyy...er. Ry-der.
[Not knowing what purpose they were meant to be fulfilling, her fingers move away again to reach for the page. There were friends on there, even if something struggles to recognize them. She feels like...maybe they were the only friends she ever had. Faces certainly don't come to mind if she dwells on such an alien concept. Her dirty nails fall away with a scraping sound as they miss their target. Still, they're back soon enough, joined by her other hand jerkily trying to reach with even less precision and coming with a soft click from her collar. Somehow, something is able to eventually find a way to dig her fingers into the outer edge, holding the book aloft in a way that makes the voice inside of her make some satisfying death gurgles. She huffs out with triumph as she stares at the pages. Yes, this is right, and she did it.]
[She's trying to work through something. He can't always tell, with how very blank she is, but this time he's sure of it. She touches her lips like she's trying to feel the words that have fled, as if she might find the tracks in their shape.
She says her name. He doesn't know if that's what she was looking for. She tries to reach for the book and misses much how she misses the words. He keeps holding it out, patient. Or maybe just desperately hopeful.
He winces at the click of her collar but he doesn't move until the book is in her hands. In this way, something is complete. He smiles.]
Ryder... the writer... You liked to read... You told me... before... You wanted to be... a writer... I wished that... I could read... your stories...
[Her blinks are slow and catlike again, first to the book, then go Teo as she turns to watch him with that puzzled feeling that's getting too familiar. It's friendly, this time. Whatever his words meant, they were a welcome surprise, she thinks. A welcome lie? It's hard to tell for sure. Harder still to tell what these strange feelings actually are. Her voice quiets, almost like the word is a blessing rather than something that's barely more than parroting.]
Read.
[Something lowers the book until the bottom rests against her stomach and watches it. If someone taught a mannequin how to act in the role of "reader", it would probably look an awful lot like her in that moment. Mind, even a good mannequin actor couldn't act it out very well... Something dismisses the nonsense with a moan to herself, trying to shut out the noise in her head with the noise outside of it. It works well enough for her to get distracted by the book again. One hand lets go, unsteadily reaching for the page while she struggled to keep it from slipping out of her grasp completely. Her fingers bump against the picture of a cat until she tires of it after a few times. Not knowing to turn the page, and certainly not having the dexterity for it, something crouches so that she can lay the book down reverently -- still open, but face up this time, unlike how they found it. It was nice, but it wasn't what he said he wanted to read. Somehow she's sure of that.]
Mmm...
[When she looks to him again, it's really the space just behind him that's hot her attention. It should be there, on his back, right? Except it was always with her. Clouding eyes narrow, the task of unraveling this mystery proving to be too much for something on her own. Instead, she reaches out to claw a different book over to her and hugs it against her aching, empty stomach. This is her story now, even if it wasn't her story she had been looking for.]
[He watches for a bit as she tries to rediscover the act of reacting. He can't say whether it counts as getting far or not, but it seems like progress to him. It's a sort of working of the muscle memory and that was at least one step in the right direction.
She sets one book down and picks up another. He smiles at her.]
I'm gonna... pick some out too... It's been a bit... since I stopped... just to read...
[He goes to search, imagining that she'll follow him. He's not quite sure what he wants, but he finds himself captivated by a thick romance with a torn cover. He holds up to her, just for fun.]
[As expected, something toddles along behind him, looking all around until she finds something to trip over or almost bump into, when the sound of him isn't enough to keep her or her wandering mind on track. When presented with another book, something leans a little to the side rather than just tilting her head, as if furthering the action will make it so she can get a better idea than before. The cover is torn up, but the part that she can see... There's a groan inside that manages to crawl it's way out of her closed mouth. The same nagging insistence from before was telling her that sure, this one might technically be a friend, but it's that messy bitch in middle school that kept causing problems and their moving away wouldn't be the end of the world. Whatever that means...
Still, Teo is kind and knows more than her, so one of something's arms drifts back out as if to take this book as well.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storywalks) wrote2022-02-14 11:30 am
no subject
...Something really isn't quite so sure why she's taking it so personally, but it's a little interesting, she supposes, that she can take it personally at all. Something was just something. It was the more, she concludes with a long rasp of whatever air had managed to find its way back into her lungs. Well, that more can do whatever she wanted. Something's got other business to attend to. Time to chew on her hand -- the other one that isn't covered in the weird texture, now -- and wander off. God, she's hungry.]
-- onnn.
[There was this open area... Or mostly open. There were a few stragglers not worth paying attention to and these...waist-high things cluttering the place up that are stubbornly staying in her way. Annoying. Something slaps ineffectually at one's flat top, trying to claw through it, before looking about with a puzzled furrow to her brow. What made her think this was right?
...This answer doesn't come to her, either, so something decides it must not be important. What's important? Oh. Where's that guy? He knew things. She needs to copy him again.]
no subject
You're right... best to... move on... can decide... as we--
[He stops talking, watching as she goes about slapping things. Now he looks confused.]
What are... you doing there...?
no subject
Maybe if it hadn't been such a hard day for both of the hers inside of her, she wouldn’t be fighting back those tears that are just starting to go cloudy again. She’s furious with herself and this wall in her way, or at least as furious as she can be. Hungry and in pain, but numb.
Something huffs and shoves the table again before swiping her hoodie sleeve across her face. Okay, focus. Try again. Maybe it wasn’t this thing specifically that was supposed to help feed her, but something related? Maybe it was — like whatever was on the other side of the wall. Just had something between it and the meaning. She doesn’t pause to try and figure out how much sense that made, the way someone else named Ryder would have. Something just stumbles off to trail a hand — her nails, her destructive predator claws that could grasp and hunt — along the wall until she came to a gap that led to another…thing. Not table. Counter? A counter with something familiar on it. Something curls her fingers around the top of the computer monitor that was used to take orders and sat above a now-exposed and empty cash register, shaking it back and forth. Give food.]
no subject
[Her eyes have gone shiny. He sees the tears welling up but more notably, he sees the way she wipes them away with her sleeve. That's an entirely human gesture. The dead didn't care if anyone saw them wail. The dead hardly knew what they cried for.
Just as he's going to wipe her tears, she's wandering. But, it's not her usual sort of wandering. This has purpose. He watches her go up to a restaurant counter like she's about to ask for a large fry. He watches her shake the cash register.
It might be funny, if it weren't so crushingly sad.
He goes to her, walking to her side and then taking her hand. Then the other. He looks into her face.]
I'll hunt... I'll hunt for you... But it won't stop... it doesn't stop... we're hungry... I can't fix it... I'm sorry...
[He tries to draw her back. Time to leave the little shopping center. He should've realized the answer to his earlier question before he asked it: the best thing for her would always be food.]
Come on... I'll find something...
no subject
Something blinks, slow and dazed, as she struggles with the rest of his words. Doesn't...stop? It never stops. This was always. If she could be tired, that might be exhausting, but she was always, too. She didn't stop. It would all balance itself out, wouldn't it? He seems upset about it, though -- different from the way something and the other one is upset, she thinks. Toddling along after him, her shoulder jerks again and her elbow follows, then her hand. Her fingers flex experimentally before grabbing with more purpose, taking his. Properly holding his hand.
Okay. They will go find something. Together. Even if she forgets, the feeling what's there always alongside her, so she can't forget, not really.
'Try t' r'member... Don't wanna -- '
Yeah. She'll do it. Right -- he's here because she let him stay. Her brows furrow before she nods limply to herself and grips his hand a little tighter again. Remember he's here. Remember he'll find something. Her...? Or for her? Okay. Either way is fine. Something will stay with him while she looks to fill this emptiness inside.]
Ssss... [agh ehh? oop? heer? Her eyes roll as if she can see the options on a wheel in front of her and she has to settle on one. There's more. Her mouth moves, testing it.] Aay...fff.
no subject
Her eyes are just as blank as his own, but her brows are furrowed in the way that his are, small expressive bits of proof that they're here. They're still here. Her grip tightens. They're still here and every sign she gives breaks his heart all over again. So of course, she's not done breaking it.]
Yes... [He smiles and breathes a laugh and wants to cry.] Yes, I... said that I'd... keep you safe... that you were... safe with me...
[He hopes she's never done breaking it. He reaches out and pushes back a bit of her hair, for no reason other than the impulse to show affection.]
no subject
Mmuhhhm.
[With something like optimism driving her forward, something gets moving again, intent on tugging him along if she has to. Food, food, food...]
Just a lil timeskippy if that's OK
He wants to scream. He doesn't, of course, but he's starting to see the problem with this. She's not capable of sharing-- the frenzy takes over even him, even now. She's also not conscious enough to be left alone. The hunger doesn't go. But his grip on consciousness and sanity can.
He's got time. He can go a good week, probably more. He might even be able to go a month or two. The dead that wandered about certainly weren't finding food every day. He could push it, probably.
But, eventually, he needs to eat. He needs something and it's got to be for him and he can't be competing with her for it. He can't take care of her if he can't take care of himself.
All this stretches out. While he's sure she'd like him to keep on hunting, he's got to make a plan for something else. He's got to find her shelter.
The good thing about being dead is that they don't have to be quite so picky. Ground floors are just fine, if one can find something that wasn't destroyed in the chaos and later looting. A nice building. A nice bed. He guides her to it.]
I know you... don't feel like it... but... I need you to... sleep... Feels nice... helps us too... Be more sane... More human... What do you say...?
no subject
The rabbit hole, a voice inside her she can't quite pinpoint supplied. It's tired, but something can tell there's a vague amusement to it, too. She sits, staring at nothing, and tries to understand. She hears the crunch of someone approaching her again, cutting off the faint explanation of, Because you ate --
That voice wasn't doing much for her right now except confusing her and making that void inside all the more obvious. The person here, this fellow something that was something more on his own, had given her many things. Bending what attention she can control to him is the better of the ideas. She stumbles and teeters along, asking things in her nonsensical, gurgling way and letting her voice click and crack between growls. It's a little fun, even if it doesn't accomplish the goal of making herself understood. For now, she's content enough that the frustration doesn't build again.]
Aaaa... [Hm. Something's tongue is too heavy, lazy after fighting to be fed, so it doesn't let her go for the sound that's whispering through the little thought processes she has. Skip it.] Ss.
[Yeah, that tired voice wryly agrees. Definitely ass.]
Nnn...!
[I know, I know. "Alice". Just shut up and let me have something, alright? Christ.]
Ass. [She's trying to be as petulant as the other girl inside, insisting on the name, but she still can't make her tongue cooperate. Well, fuck.
She doesn't counter something again, though, and she can go back to babbling in peace until Teo seems to be instructing her. Focus...on him. Feels...nice? Something looks from him to the bed with a slow wheeze that's only pushed out from the movement of her body. There's a fuzzy feeling of liking this strange rectangle, once. Like before in the food court, she gives it an experimental scrape of her nails. It's different. It's closer to the hoodie he'd pulled over her head, the creature that had melted away piece by piece, no chance her teeth, and his hand. Something does indeed like it, she decides.
Just...what was she supposed to do with it?]
Hhhh?
no subject
When she does it again, he winds up just coughing.
No laughing now though. Unless she decides to laugh at him for attempting this.]
Yeah... I know... it's confusing... Just hear me out... Copy me...?
[Well, time to lay down on his side along the bed and feel really silly about it.]
no subject
You're at the combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell.
She's hungry.
He feeds her. He likes when she copies him. That's what he just asked her to do, right? If she does what he does, then he'll be happy and feed her again. It's harder than she would have expected to lift her knee onto the edge of the bed to join her palms, and she stops and stares at it while questioning whether the creak came from it or the mattress. It doesn't answer her. She doesn't know if she would have understood anyway.
Something tries to steer her attention back onto the road, but she's drifted too much to know where that is for several moments. Oh, but she's in the middle of crawling, and moving is something she knows how to do, even if every part of her is aching. Once she's kneeled on the bed, something sees Teo again and remembers. Right. She's copying him. Her stomach protests, but there's a vague feeling someone else might have named relief going through the rest of her as she makes herself flop down onto her side.
Her blank eyes, silence, and lack of movement once she settles all make her appear more like the corpse she really is now.]
no subject
He stays where he is and he waits, even as she seems to get lost for a moment, in her head as much as the unfamiliar surroundings. Hello, Ryder, earth to Ryder, come in Ryder, we hope you can hear us. She's crawling and then kneeling and looking at him still.]
Go on...
[He wonders if anyone else in the world has had to teach another being how to sleep. He wonders what advice they would give. The internet would be nice about now.
Down she goes. She looks very, very dead. He hopes like hell that he's not going to wake up screaming.]
Okay... Good... Comfy...? Resting is... very nice... but we have to... be still... let our heads... be quiet... eyes shut... Don't worry... if you get... too afraid... [For whatever reason.] Just shake me... will wake... Promise...
[Please, please sleep. He closes his own eyes and hopes he can pull it off himself.]
no subject
She waits. Nothing happens. She decides to copy him some more, but that just means that nothing continues to happen. There aren't new sounds. There's no smell to draw her anywhere in particular. There's nothing. The quiet is nice, and so is the softness beneath her. It feels somewhat familiar to that part inside, but still, it feels like nothing. Why are they doing this? Why aren't they continuing, going, always, forever? Something waits to see if either the voice or Teo will explain it to her, but all she gets is more nothing. It's empty. It's gaping. What if she can't ever fill it, the way she couldn't ever fill the hungry void?
If she gets too scared...she's supposed to do something. Something can't quite remember what it was, but trying to focus through her eyes again, she wonders if the man across from her would know. He knew how to solve a lot of the problems today, or however long it's been since she's been with him. Still... He did so much for her, and she did nothing. Is that why it's like this now? Is that something...she can change? Something gives the man another slow blink before starting to push herself up.]
Ehhhv...
[Oh. Why is she so heavy? Determined, because she's been doing nothing for long enough now, she tries to throw all her efforts into it again. She doesn't stop -- that's what she knows. Something just has to keep going, even if it's hard and doesn't always make sense...
She hears a pop and comes to a stop for a moment, and there's a snap when she forces it even further. Even though it can't do anything to stop her, something notes that the other voice inside would be making a face, if she had any control over it. She doesn't have much of a face she can make right now, actually. Half of that feels a little heavier, too, but even though she's moved, there hasn't been a weight pulling her neck anywhere. That's stiff like everything else. How long has it been since the pop and snap interrupted the nothing? Was there a reason she was pushing herself? There...must be. Something reaches out to Teo to prompt him for an answer, forgetting that that arm is the only thing keeping her up now and dropping to the bed again with a bounce and a gentle sound that's almost a crunch, nose now half-smushed between her face and the mattress.
Ah. Hm. It seems she is staying for now, even though she'd already been so good and stayed still for...
...
......Hm?]
no subject
Despite his nerves, he does manage to sleep. His dreams are less like dreams and more like choppy memories. All the same, it's something. It's broken up a little by noises that tempt him to wake up, to check, to be sure and be safe and so ruin the sleep he's managed. He has to tell himself not to.
But then she jostles the bed. He stays still for a while longer, but it's too late. He's up. He cracks his eyes open and...
She's face down. She's not breathing, not moving, and that doesn't necessarily indicate that she's asleep, but his heart almost jumps out of twinned fear and relief. Now. He has to go now. Okay...
He slips carefully from the bed, not wanting to move her, to make her stir. He's got to be quiet as he steps out and away and he's got to make this quick as possible so he can get back to her. But he's got a chance to hunt.
No rabbits for him. He's pretty sure he hit a squirrel, though, he's eaten with such fervor, he could believe it was just a rat. There's nothing left. It's agony. But, under that, it's relief. He did it. He did it. They might actually be able to do this.
He creeps back to her, to bed, and crawls on there. She's still there. He stares at her a moment, thinking she doesn't look peaceful at all, face down like that, but reaches out and brushes her hair anyway.]
no subject
No. No. She can't reach out and hold him there or beg him to take her with him, body and brain not cooperating with each other, let alone Something's wishes. She couldn't even begin to start explaining why she felt it so intensely. Maybe for that reason, it's good at she can do nothing more than strain her eyeball to the very edge of her vision, trying to see him or at least where he was going. Why wouldn't he wait for her? Why wouldn't he stay?
You promised! You liar!
Something groans into the mattress, too buried and immobile to make the vicious complaints that she wants to, or the pathetic cries for...someone? The question catches something offguard enough that her temper starts to fizzle out, leaving her to think and do more waiting during the nothingness. It doesn't last long. Her stubborn streak kicks in and has her fighting against her body with a renewed focus. Maybe that "someone" would elude her, but she can still reach him, surely.
It's exhausting. There's a few minutes where she lets the ache get the better of her, and she falls into something almost like sleep could be for something like her. It's over before she knows it when the man comes back, giving her something new to want to bite him over. That had been better than the endless waiting, minutes and thoughts alike crawling like ants. Why did he have to disturb it? That wouldn't have happened if he hadn't left in the first place.
Her griping is quieted at the gentle, soothing touch. She's not cured of her bad mood, of course, and she tries to convey that with a growl, since a glare is currently impossible. Not having more than the barest trickle of air to work with, it comes out as a single click scraped over her vocal cords. Something starts struggling against herself again and is pleased to find that even though it's still difficult, her work from earlier has made it so that her muscles have relaxed enough again that she can turn her head to the side and give him a drowsy blink of an eye. No urge left to sink her teeth into him and tear him apart as punishment, even if she can tell now that he smells more tantalizing now than before. Maybe it's just from how she'd been "sleeping", but something is almost...pouting?]
no subject
Oh...
[She's been awake. How long has she been awake? He'd know if he'd been here. His heart sinks.]
Oh.
[He nearly bites his lip, stupid old habit. Especially when he went out of his way to bandage her hand to prevent the same thing. He shifts a little to grip his arm instead.]
... I'm sorry... I thought... No, it's... I didn't want... To trick you... I just... didn't know how... else I'd hunt... And I did... really want... to help you sleep... I need food too... I couldn't... fight you for it... I'm sorry...
no subject
Nevertheless, even when something takes the initiative to wander, she doesn't stray far without him. She has no real goal in mind, after all. They start to progress further through the city, check out buildings that blur together for something, and make grumbling conversation that makes more sense from one side than the other. She learns to gnaw at the dog toy instead of her knuckles, though it causes some pain and confusion for others like her that hear the noise and think it's their lucky day. As angry and territorial as she is, intent on defending her toy, her companion, and herself, there's that terrified feeling stirring in her gut again when she snarls and claws at another undead that gets too close. It isn't until Teo later helps clean her up again that she stops to dwell on it.
Something is powerful. She's unending. She knows this. There shouldn't be a reason to fear things that weren't abandonment. Did it have to do with that "more"? Did she really have to look to her to find answers? Yet another reason to hunch her shoulders and snarl.]
Hhhh...err.
[There's no answer, and something bites down hard into her chew toy, imagining warm blood to soothe her irritation. All it does is make her even more hungry. It's time to get going again.
Long after she's given up on getting a response, she feels a sharp tug that jolts her forward before rooting her in place. She snarls, questioning what she is supposed to do, when there's nothing obviously food, but --
Her head tips unnaturally and the sight makes her still -- tense at first, then relaxed. Something doesn't have to understand why it's happening to know that she has to follow the feeling. Going up so many steps, she thinks, is perhaps easier now than it might have been another time. Before. She sneers tauntingly at the inner voice, happy to win against her at something so handily. Ryder is just content to be getting closer to a world of worlds made of words.
The large windows of the library's main doors are shattered, but muscle memory has her reaching for the handle anyway. Her aim, focus drawn elsewhere, is a bit off the mark, leaving a gash through her glove and sleeve's end that quickly darken with thick, oozing dark brown blood. The smell more than the pain causes something to recoil, snarling again as if telling her hand that it should have known better than to be rotting away inside. Nose wrinkled, she makes another reach for the handle and jostles it only to find it locked. Standing next to the gaping hole in the glass as if it still held strong, something looks around to seek Teo's wisdom.]
Nnnn. Ss. Ide. Hhhlpuh. Huhlp. Rrr...
no subject
He goes back and forth like this, stupidly, until he catches the way she buckles. Automatic, he tries to reach out, to steady her, and further double-check what's wrong. She hasn't the patience for this. She determines he's not food and continues off and he's left with no clearer idea as to what's wrong.]
Ryder...
[He pleads, but it's too late to get himself out of the doghouse. He says and starts after her.
He's not unused to being led. He's followed after survivors dozens of times. Hell, he followed her into that shed, even though the very thought made his stomach churn. The only difference now is that she's dead, like he's dead, and so the path feels even more aimless than usual.
She does take to the dog toy. That brings relief. Less damage done-- for her anyway. When other dead are drawn, rushing like they're prey, there's a second in which he falters, a noise of fear slipping free before sense catches up. The dead are looking for a dog. Not them. A dog. They are dead and the dead won't--
That thought is interrupted as Ryder claws at the face of one of the other dead. Another bad memory flashing in his mind like blinding lightning, there and gone but searing marks where it was, putting pain in his jaw. He pulls her away. The dead aren't bothered by the offence but he can't bear it. He takes charge, leads them to water, and cleans her up again.
He hasn't talked enough today. She's not going to make progress if he doesn't. This fact makes him feel like enough of a broken thing that he sighs raggedly and draws a hand down the good side of his face. He misses that first rasped out word. He nearly runs right into her when she suddenly stops.]
Ryder? What--
[His brows furrow and he looks up at the building. Then his eyes go wide.
He watches her make her way to the door. He doesn't know if it's funny or just sad, the way she tries with that. She looks to him for help though and either way he's not about to deny it. He steps up and guides her from the door. Her hands are taken in his. He steps back, through the opening of the big glass window, knocking shards off with his elbow to keep them from catching on her. Then he pulls her forward.]
You want... to read...?
no subject
Rrrr.
[Something, despite already being partway through the window, wrenches one hand free so she can make a weak reach for the handle again. Let her in! She wants to read! Moving it isn't easy, even with her brain ignoring the pain of it, and she's given up by the end of her groan. It's just in time for her to look back and realize she's not outside anymore. Something's head tips the way a puzzled dog's would, then she's back to blinking stupidly over at her fellow undead.]
Rrr...? Reee.
no subject
He nods his head, pulling her further.]
Reading... It's where... the words you hear... and think... are written... And they become... stories...
[He doesn't know if she'll be able to do it. He was capable of reading, but he's not sure how along she is. The page could be nothing more than a page to her, or even simple "not food" and so uninteresting. But she's surprised so far.
He grabs the first one in reach, a little picture that was left to moulder with it's spine up. He picks up and turns it over to her.]
no subject
[Reading. Words. Stories. All important, just like the thing he's reaching down for that she tries to assess with narrow-eyed bemusement.]
Rrhm.
[Not just reading. The way her hand comes up, it must look like she's about to go back to chewing on the bitten off stump, but instead, it's the rest of her fingers that touch her lips, just the tips. Something's familiar about it, and something wonders if it really will make thinking easier like she feels it will. Something else he'd said. It wasn't quite right, but it...
What was it?
Written, but not.
It's you, the voice prompts, trying to be encouraging but coming off glum with how unfair all of it was. She'd never get her dream. Hell, she doesn't even know if dreaming is a thing. Back to the point -- Or me. Who you used to be.]
Ruh... Ryyyy...er. Ry-der.
[Not knowing what purpose they were meant to be fulfilling, her fingers move away again to reach for the page. There were friends on there, even if something struggles to recognize them. She feels like...maybe they were the only friends she ever had. Faces certainly don't come to mind if she dwells on such an alien concept. Her dirty nails fall away with a scraping sound as they miss their target. Still, they're back soon enough, joined by her other hand jerkily trying to reach with even less precision and coming with a soft click from her collar. Somehow, something is able to eventually find a way to dig her fingers into the outer edge, holding the book aloft in a way that makes the voice inside of her make some satisfying death gurgles. She huffs out with triumph as she stares at the pages. Yes, this is right, and she did it.]
Read.
no subject
She says her name. He doesn't know if that's what she was looking for. She tries to reach for the book and misses much how she misses the words. He keeps holding it out, patient. Or maybe just desperately hopeful.
He winces at the click of her collar but he doesn't move until the book is in her hands. In this way, something is complete. He smiles.]
Ryder... the writer... You liked to read... You told me... before... You wanted to be... a writer... I wished that... I could read... your stories...
no subject
Read.
[Something lowers the book until the bottom rests against her stomach and watches it. If someone taught a mannequin how to act in the role of "reader", it would probably look an awful lot like her in that moment. Mind, even a good mannequin actor couldn't act it out very well... Something dismisses the nonsense with a moan to herself, trying to shut out the noise in her head with the noise outside of it. It works well enough for her to get distracted by the book again. One hand lets go, unsteadily reaching for the page while she struggled to keep it from slipping out of her grasp completely. Her fingers bump against the picture of a cat until she tires of it after a few times. Not knowing to turn the page, and certainly not having the dexterity for it, something crouches so that she can lay the book down reverently -- still open, but face up this time, unlike how they found it. It was nice, but it wasn't what he said he wanted to read. Somehow she's sure of that.]
Mmm...
[When she looks to him again, it's really the space just behind him that's hot her attention. It should be there, on his back, right? Except it was always with her. Clouding eyes narrow, the task of unraveling this mystery proving to be too much for something on her own. Instead, she reaches out to claw a different book over to her and hugs it against her aching, empty stomach. This is her story now, even if it wasn't her story she had been looking for.]
Ohh...kgh.
[Okay. She's ready.]
no subject
She sets one book down and picks up another. He smiles at her.]
I'm gonna... pick some out too... It's been a bit... since I stopped... just to read...
[He goes to search, imagining that she'll follow him. He's not quite sure what he wants, but he finds himself captivated by a thick romance with a torn cover. He holds up to her, just for fun.]
Good choice...?
no subject
Still, Teo is kind and knows more than her, so one of something's arms drifts back out as if to take this book as well.]
(no subject)
(no subject)