I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.

[keephersafe]

Who: R & you
Where: The beach
When: 21/10
Rating: G for now
Summary: Still trying to keep out of the way of the general population as much as he can help it, R takes himself down to the beach.
The Story:

[The wind ruffles at his hair and tugs his clothes, and R closes his eyes to take a deep, unnecessary breath. He can almost feel the way the salty air should sting the inside of his nose, and he can almost feel the chill from the wind, and that almost is so tantalisingly close that he loses a good hour reaching for it.

He sits cross-legged in the sand, oblivious to the way that the position strains the tendons and joints of his knees. His fingers dig gently into the sand, and he watches the way it slides over his hands with an expression that could only be called curious.

His head tilts slightly as he hears steps behind him, and he glances back over his shoulder. The time he's spent here has done absolutely nothing towards making him look any less Dead, but he's finding that he cares less and less about people's reactions to it. If someone's going to shoot him, then... they're going to shoot him, and there's really nothing he can do about that.]

Um... hey.

Comments

[keephersafe]

[Yes, R would really prefer it if this guy would stop looming over him but it doesn't seem like that's going to happen. That's... fine, he supposes.

The tower hadn't been a place he had been happy with being either. He'd at least managed to get out of harm's way before anything happened to him, but he knew that other people... hadn't been so lucky.]

... S-sorry. [He murmurs, looking down at the sand. R hadn't died, but he hadn't been able to help anyone else, either.]

[scoutsniper]

Yeah, not your fault. [He shrugs. Wasn't anyone's fault about Liv. Not even Liv's. Just this shitty place.]

[keephersafe]

... Yeah.

[But he didn't help, either, and he isn't sure if he should feel bad about that. R's existence isn't exactly a regular one, but being here has thrown everything he ever thought qualified as strange right out of the proverbial window.

Nothing makes a Dead guy feel more normal than a place like this.]

One... One of my f-friends died too.

[scoutsniper]

Were you there when they came back?

[Because on the one hand, comforting. On the other, the only face Frank would find LESS comforting to wake up to wake up to than his own would be...this guy.]

[keephersafe]

[There's a small hesitation, but he shakes his head.] F... found out later.

[And he would have liked to have been there, had he known, though there's no guarantee that he would have even got close. Liv has a lot more going for her in the 'not creeping people out' department. And the lack of speech impediment helps.]

I'd... r-rather it was me... than her, though.

[scoutsniper]

Yeah. I know that feeling. Couple of people I know died.

I didn't.

Fucked up. [It feels like he didn't try hard enough, somehow. That he didn't give everything he could have.]

[keephersafe]

[There's another of those hesitations - observation would show them to be not entirely deliberate, but something like delays in his entire way of reacting to things.

He shifts to grip his upper arms, fingers digging faintly into the fabric of his sweater. For a moment, he feels cold, and he shivers.

Weird.]

D-dying's overrated.

[scoutsniper]

[Yeah, there's something weird about this guy, but Frank can't figure it out. Kid looks cold or something--dumb choice to sit out in the cold. ]

Came close once, myself. Not here, though.

You?

[keephersafe]

['Jesus.'

The shiver of cold passes, and he lets his hands drop slowly. His thumb and forefingers fidget with the folds of fabric at his elbows.]

... Y-yeah. Not here.

[scoutsniper]

Try to keep it that way. Don't give this fucking place anything, if you can help it.

[That's his current playbook. ]

Don't give wherever you're from the fucking satisfaction, either. [Because fuck everything.]

[keephersafe]

[He has to chuckle at that - more of a soft wheeze than a laugh, but the intention is there. A Living person telling a Dead guy not to give any place the satisfaction of his death? That's a laugh.

Most people in both places would probably prefer he wasn't walking around, but his stubborn clinging to life is wonderfully evidenced by this conversation, if nothing else.]

W-wasn't... planning o-on it. [He replies quietly, shaking his head. Even if he doesn't have much to live for anymore, he's not going to give up.]

[scoutsniper]

[No place gets to see Frank's death. Till he's goddam ready for it. At least, that's what's worked so far. They tried their best to kill him before, in Hell's Kitchen. Hadn't worked. He didn't intend to give this place the satisfaction. ]

Good. Find out a way to protect yourself, too.

[Because this place will try.]

[keephersafe]

H-how would I do... that?

[Does he look like the kind of person who can protect himself? Tall, but lanky, R doesn't exactly appear to have any particular physical prowess. Frank isn't to know that the zombie could easily overpower him should he try to, but that isn't the kind of thing he wants to do if he can help it.

He already has a reputation as a zombie, without adding 'can prise open a man's skull with his bare hands' to the list.]

[scoutsniper]

I don't know.

[Kid looks a little scrawny. And twitchy.] Get a weapon or something. SOmething that if someone tries to hurt you, you can get them to rethink the damn idea.

[keephersafe]

[R closes his eyes for a moment. He sees his own fist flying towards his friend's face, hitting hard enough to cave his cheek inwards. He sees his fingers digging underneath the soft part of Perry's skull and prying it apart with nothing more than brute strength.

He feels his stomach turn. Does he really need a weapon?

Still, he nods slightly.]

O-okay. [A gun is going to be out of the question. Zombie fingers.] ... Thanks.

[He thinks?]

[scoutsniper]

...you going to be okay? [Because there's something...off about this kid. He can't quite figure it out. ]

[keephersafe]

[He glances up again. Between the pewter-grey eyes, unnatural pallor and the visible dark veins snaking up one side of his neck, he's really surprised this guy hasn't caught on already.

Must be another one from a place that doesn't have zombies.]

... Yeah. I-I'll be okay.

[scoutsniper]

[No zombies that Frank knows of. That Hand shit with their undead ninjas? Yeah, not his jam. ]

You should, I don't know, maybe go see a doctor about...that. [Vague gesture over all that...youness.]

[keephersafe]

['Jesus Christ.']

... I-I'm not g... gonna look any b-better.

[Said somewhat wryly. He almost sounds like he's making a joke.]

[scoutsniper]

Why? What the hell's wrong with you?

[Kid wasn't going to die on him, was he?]

[keephersafe]

['Why did you have to ask me that?']

I-I...

['No, shit, what are you doing? This looks just like the kind of guy who might pop you in the head for saying what you're about to say.']

... Nothing.

[scoutsniper]

You seen a mirror lately? [Seriously. 'Nothing' Frank's butt.]

You should go see Liv. [Because she was a doctor, right?]

[keephersafe]

[Rude.

He looks up quickly at the mention of his friend's name.]

Already... know her.

[scoutsniper]

Did you look like this when you saw her last?

[Because she wouldn't let someone sick jut go like that. he knew that for a fact.]

[keephersafe]

Uh... y-yeah.

['Come on, guy, just let it go.]

I did.