entranceway | Action + Video - I'm off on this super fun adventure

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Action + Video - I'm off on this super fun adventure

[ARRIVAL; Action]

[It's been something of A Day for Louis. A roller coaster of some really awesome and some really horrifically terrible shit. One minute, he was standing over that absolute jackass, Abel, and the next he's stumbling out of the first floor storage room out into the corridor with some comedic arm flailing. He catches himself, then stills, glancing around the space that is definitely not Ericson's courtyard.]

Toto, we're not in Kansas any more.

[He lets out a soft laugh that's toeing a little too close to hysterical. Carefully, he slides what looks like (and turns out IS) a chair leg with nails rammed into the top from an inside pocket of his held-together-by-love-and-duct-tape trenchcoat. For the observant, there's a blood stain on the upper arm, dry, a few weeks old, but definitely there, and definitely around a recently duct-taped hole. He raises his makeshift mace as he edges to a window, peering out at the perfect, beautiful Walker-free grounds.]

Oooookay, Lou. You're having a little bit of a psychotic breakdown. That's okay, that's fine. It's been a weird day. You knew it would have probably happened eventually. It's all good. Someone'll snap you out of this any second now.

[If you're heading towards him or passing him by, congrats, you've got his attention, he'll wave at you with his free hand.]

Hi there, mental breakdown conjuration. How's it hanging? Good? Good. I'm great. Not freaking out at all.

[LATER; Video]

[Once he's been filled in on what's actually happening (but still not utterly convinced this isn't some kind of stress-induced hallucination) Louis picks himself a room. He has his first hot shower in literal years, and even trusts the (magic????) closets to give him a new set of clothes. Aside from the trenchcoat. That remains as filthy and duct-taped as always. He's not parting with that for anything.

He sets himself up in the kitchen, where he sets up his communicator with a few false starts. It's been a long-ass time since he got to play with actual electronics. He's got a veritable feast on the table around him- ranging from god-awful junk food to fancy-ass steaks. They never truly starved in the school, but when all you have to eat for nigh on eight years are variations of rabbit, fish or berries, you can't help but indulge. He'll regret it later, when his system freaks out from suddenly having too-rich nutrients again, but that is a risk he's absolutely willing to take. He grins, giving the camera a thumbs-up. He doesn't get what's happening at all, but he can't just sit still, this...this keeps him active.]

Hey there, fellow captives-slash-mental breakdown prisoners! The name's Louis and I'm brand new to this... whatever it is. AnyHOO, seen as it sounds like I'll be here for a while, I thought I'd get to know you a little better. [He raises a dirty, dog-eared pack of playing cards t the screen.] So! If any kids wanna come to the kitchen and share in my bountiful feast and have a good old game of War, you're totally welcome to. Highest card gets to ask a question to the other person, fun, right? Or, I guess, you can be boring and do it over the video instead. What'd you say?

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[The whole time he's rattling on, R is watching him with a small, puzzled frown furrowing his brows and a confused look in his eyes. It's not unusual for people to show up here like this - hell, R was all kinds of shaken up when he got here the first time - but he so rarely actually gets to see it.

And then... the question. It cements the answers to several questions he might have had and R visibly grimaces, shaking his head.]

Not Dead. Not anymore.

[He looks it, to the untrained eye. To anyone who hasn't known him for long enough to see how much his overall appearance has improved. His pallor is still greyish, dark veins still standing out against his skin, but his eyes are bright and he's clean and certainly not falling apart.

The walking only suffers when he's distracted.]

... Please don't try to hit me with that. It'll hurt.

[Not Dead anymore. That sounds like some crazy cure, like they all hope would happen in the early days. That whatever was happening would get fixed and everyone would just get better. Those hopes were long gone- but here he was. A walker. Having a conversation with him.

He glances down at Chairles, considering just going for it and walloping the thing and running. But...but walkers didn't politely ask you to not take them out. They didn't feel pain, so they weren't concerned with it. And this one hadn't tried to eat his face yet. He thinks better of it.]

Oooookay. So. I'm having a conversation with an...ex??? walker?? I am definitely having some sort of mental breakdown. But okay, let's just roll with it. Hi, walker dude. I'm Louis, do you have a name?

[Clem and/or Violet would absolutely kill him for this, but he's going to aim for not-potential-murder unless the walker makes a dangerous move.]

[Honestly, 'Walker' sounds a hell of a lot better than 'Zombie' but this isn't really the time to be discussing semantics. He's still so wary of that bat, definitely not wanting to be hit by it (he'd bleed, and it would hurt, even if he wouldn't feel it as much as he ought to), but it feels like the best thing to do here is to... carry on the conversation.

Just like he did with Ellie, with Michonne, with everyone who has had to take a second look at him to try and figure out if he's dangerous or not.]

Hey, Louis. [He smiles - a nervous, crooked kind of thing that tugs at one corner of his mouth.] I'm R.

[R does the smart thing, and doesn't move.]

Don't think you're having a mental breakdown.

[One day, Louis will learn the difference, but for now, walker is the term that stays firmly lodged in his mind. Still the walker smiles and that's something that doesn't happen back home either. ]

R, huh? Like the letter? Or like a pirate? Arrr?

[This is fine, just joking with an undead guy. Perfectly normal. Yup.]

I'm sure glad one of us thinks so, because everything happening to me so far is pointing strongly in that direction.

Like the letter. Don't remember the rest.

[One day, he's sure he will. One day it's going to all come flooding back to him and he's awaiting that day with a mixture of dread and anticipation.]

I get it. It was... hard for me, too. [Worse, generally speaking, given that he arrived in the middle of a zombie event and was the only one who didn't disappear when it was over. Talk about a rough entry.]

It's a lot to take in, isn't it...

Well, a letter's a good start.

[Little by little, Louis starts to relax. He doesn't put Chairles away (you don't live as long as he has through his by making dumbass life choices, but he does move to rest it against his leg. ]

You're telling me. One minute, you're dealing with whatever bullshit you've got going on and then suddenly you're somewhere else, being told you're in another world. It's a whole lot. But hey, thanks for trying to explain it.

[R shrugs. The movement is small, absent-minded, but very 'human'.]

Hard to explain. Been here a while, and I still don't understand it all. [Or even close to it all, in fact. He huffs out a sound that's mostly a laugh, in the awkward kind of way of someone who isn't quite used to laughing.]

You called me a Walker. [He studies Louis for a moment.] Not been called that before.

If you don't understand it, I don't think I've got a snowball's chance in hell of getting it. I think I'm just gonna gracefully accept my fate to wallow in confusion forever.

[That's a weird-ass laugh, but it does at least help cement that R is for sure not what Louis is used to. Walkers sure as hell don't have a sense of humour.]

Yeah, that's what we call the undead. But they don't uh...talk or anything. They're mostly big on the moaning and eating people.

[R winces. It's a small motion, like a reflex, something he's adopted almost subconsciously in response to people mentioning 'eating people'. He never really enjoyed it, even when he was dead, but now he isn't every time he has to remember it is like a small mental slap.]

Yeah... that's... usually a thing. [He wants to defend it, explain it isn't malice, that they can't help it, but he holds it in. Too many people lost too much because of it, and explaining it away does nothing.]

We talk where I'm from but... it's hard. Most of us-- them. They don't try. [A shrug.] We found a cure, but it's slow.

Undead gotta eat too, I guess. It's just less fun when they're trying to eat us.

[That sounds amazing though- a cure. Something to bring the world back from the edge of hell. All those people, lost, being brought back. He's not sure if it's possible, but if it happened in one world...well.]

That's...really neat. I hope it works for you guys. Is that why you can talk? Or is that just... a thing for you guys?

[He shakes his head.]

It's a thing. We can talk... but we have to try. If we don't, it gets harder. [R realises, belatedly, that he's still referring to himself as if he's one of them. Despite his beating heart and the fact he needs to draw breath, it's still difficult to see himself as one of the Living. Many of them don't see him as such, and it only makes things more difficult.]

I think it has something to do with not needing to breathe.

Not needing to breathe would put a dampener on the talking thing, I guess.

[He eyes R a little more, before coming to a decision- he puts Chairles, in all its walker-destroying glory- back inside his coat.]

Please don't make me regret doing that, dude.

... I won't.

[He's happy to see the back of the thing - it was making him more nervous than he'd admit, but it probably shows in the way his shoulders relax when it finally disappears.]

I'm not Dead. [R insists, fidgeting distractedly with the cuff of his sweater.] I can prove it... if you tell me how I'd prove it to you.

[It further solidifies to him that R isn't a walker. Not a regular one anyway. They sure as hell don't feel relief.]

I...genuinely don't know. I've never actually had to put anyone to that test before. All the dead I've comes across have been...kinda bitey.

[He rubs the back of his neck, trying to think of not-dead things.]

Uh...you got any hobbies?

[R immediately, visibly brightens and gives a small nod of confirmation.]

I collect things. [To be truthful, he collected things when he was Dead, too, but he never really gave it much thought until he was Living again. He knew why, after that.] And records. ... Mostly jazz.

[Also something he did while he was Dead. Louis won't know that, but he casts around for something that he's picked up more recently.]

And... I like to read. I'm not great at it... yet, but I'm learning.

[Louis nods, tapping his chin in faux thought.]

Yup. Yup yup. Those all sounds like very much not-dead-person things to do. If you'd answered with a hearty "urgggh" or "making deserts out of people's kidneys" I'd of been worried.

[He offers a smile.]

As is? Yeah, you sound pretty not-dead. And jazz music is pretty awesome. I play the piano, myself. Mostly classical, but I can tinkle the ivories with a little jazz sometimes.

[He declines to say that zombies don't make desserts, and also that they generally don't go digging around for specific body parts. R doesn't think that will help anything at this point in time.

There's an animation to his features and a light in his eyes as they move onto the topic of music, and he nods again.]

Can't play. Uh... zombie fingers. [He wiggles his fingers with an almost apologetic expression.] Maybe I did... before. I can't remember.

[If he knew, he'd deeply appreciate R not popping his comedic bubble. His smile turns into a full on grin, because if there's one thing Louis likes talking about, it's this.]

Well, that's okay, you can still appreciate it, right? So long as you've still got a good ear for it, that's what matters. You have any favourites?

Sinatra.

[He says that without hesitation. Sinatra has always been one of his favourites, and it's only been recently that he's truly understood why. Jazz had informed his perception of the Living world, shaped it, gave it colour for however dull that colour was before Julie stepped into his life.

R knows, now, that his dreams of the Living didn't quite match up to the reality, but still...]

I have records here... and a player. Sometimes I just listen for hours.

A classic, nice. Got to give some mad respect to 'Ole Blue Eyes.

[Louis can appreciate some good Sinatra. Classical-bent though he may be, jazz is pretty damn cool and Sinatra was and remains the disputed king. It's a good choice. He wonders what the man would think, knowing he had an undead fan.

Louis likes to think he'd probably dig it. ]

I hear you. Back home, when everything getting- [a pause, a careful choice of words] a lot, I just lock myself away in the music room and play so long as I can. Music is pretty great for making all those big problems seem pretty damn small, just for a little while.

['A lot'. God, R can understand that all too well, and the wanting to get away from it, and he nods slightly in sympathy. This is going as well as any introduction he usually has with people who are used to seeing zombies.]

Always made me think about what the... what the world was like. Before.

[Before us. No, before them. R's expression twitches into a small wince at that train of thought, then he huffs out a quick breath.]

... Going to come a bit closer. That okay?

Eh. Before? It wasn't all that great, honestly. Easier to live, I guess? But it wasn't the best place, either.

[He didn't have much of a life, back then. None of them did. They were just kids nobody wanted, being reminded on the daily of that very fact. He doesn't miss that.

He offers R a reassuring smile, a little for himself, too. He's fairly certain R isn't going to bite him now, though.]

Sure thing.

Can't remember much of it.

[The way he says it sounds almost apologetic. Already, they've gone a long way from the boy holding up a weapon and R just hoping he isn't going to get shot at. He takes his time moving forwards, taking slow steps and keeping his hands visible.

When he stops, he's within handshaking distance, and he offers out a hand.]

... Good to meet you.

All things considered, I guess that's understandable.

[If this had been someone else in his group- if Louis had been Aasim, or Violet- hell, even Ruby, he would have absolutely taken this chance to take a pot shot at the walker. It would be the smart thing to do.

But Louis has always let himself be led by his heart over his head. It's not killed him yet, and he's fairly certain it's not going to kill him now. After all, the second you stopped having faith in people, even people like R...then the world really was lost.

When R offers a hand, he smiles, taking it. This is weird, but it's a good kind of weird. R hasn't tried to kill him which puts him above a good number of people he just got away from back home. ]

Likewise.

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Action + Video - I'm off on this super fun adventure

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