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.]
[She doesn't object, even though she watches his every move with that inherently unimpressed stare. Sure, sure, keep your book. Something clumsily tries to find her own hoodie pocket, pawing useless at her stomach before giving up and lolling her head to the side.]
Uhhnnn.
[As if in agreement, she jitters to a start again, tripping over herself for a second before moving along with the forward momentum. Maybe she doesn't know where she's going, and maybe she'll never have somewhere to go, but something doesn't seem to mind it, in the moment.]
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storywalks) wrote2022-02-14 11:30 am
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
Come on... they're fun...! Don't be... like that...
[He slips the book into the front pocket of his hoodie. It's a bit of a tight fit, but he makes it work.]
Well... Your loss... Guess we'll... keep going then...
no subject
Uhhnnn.
[As if in agreement, she jitters to a start again, tripping over herself for a second before moving along with the forward momentum. Maybe she doesn't know where she's going, and maybe she'll never have somewhere to go, but something doesn't seem to mind it, in the moment.]