Phone

Apr. 26th, 2030 01:19 am
somethinghuman: (008)
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Hh--he-- hello. Th-- This-- this i-is *beep*

Mailbox

Apr. 26th, 2030 01:18 am
somethinghuman: (012)
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All letters and mail.
somethinghuman: (047)
It'd been two days since he'd helped Amalthea hide in the woods, and R was already anxious about that decision. Unicorn or not, there might be wolves, or predators, or just bad things out there that might set their sights on her. She may be magic, but she was alone.

She might get lonely. He knew he did.

He waffled and fretted for a few hours that morning before he finally decided that yes, he was clingy, but he was being clingy in her best interests. Maybe stopping at her own flower shop to get lilacs just because she'd said she liked them was dumb, especially considering she was a unicorn and not a girl, and he was buying flowers in a city just to take them into the woods. But he thought that if there was any chance she was lonely, or sad, that she might like them.

The trek to the woods took longer without someone to keep him on a straight path. By the time he found the creek the flowers were sort of limp and wilted, and his shoes and pant legs were muddy. But he'd found the right place, and now he just needed to find the girl. The unicorn.
somethinghuman: (056)
It was just supposed to be a quick lurch down to the thrift store, and then straight back to the apartment.

R had it all plotted out. A quick check to see if any new records or knick-knacks had come in that might catch his eye, a cursory hoodie check, maybe even a quick loiter in an alley to see if there were any wayward rats or raccoons he could make a breakfast of. Then when everything was all good, he'd shuffle back to lay on his floor in silence as he worked up the nerve to text someone... something.

Communicating via emojis was effective, but that didn't mean squat when he was worried about being the annoying dead emoji guy.

There has to be an easier way to reach out to people and really connect.

Still, it didn't matter how many times he grabbed that thought and wrung it like an overused rag. Some things didn't come easy. Like a Zombie trying to work up the nerve to actively engage his maybe-sort-of friends who probably had better things to do than spend an afternoon with the dead guy with the stutter and fish belly handshakes.

So instead, the thrift store. Then maybe later, with some decent music on, he'd work up the nerve to try talking to someone.

Instead, he made it all of three blocks away from his destination before something... weird happened.

His hands had done stuff on their own before. Corpse hands had to be monitored or they got their own ideas. That's how oddball items sometimes ended up in unsuspecting pockets. But they'd never just grabbed the nearest Living hand before. At least not without the intention of eating it.

Struck dumb, R tried to let go. Despite his growing panic and protest, his fingers refused to uncurl.

What the hell, he thought, eyes blown wide in mounting horror. He shook the hand in the misguided hope that momentum might fix it. Nothing. "Oh... sh-shit."
somethinghuman: (007)
He meant to hold out longer. He really did.

Back home, he could go weeks to months without feeding. The new hunger, no matter how strong, was easier ignored in a dead city. There may have been the occasional feral street dog or unfortunate pigeon to help sate it, but they were just a crutch. Something to help ease the churn and ache that came from something that knotted up in his throat and head and demanded he appease it.

Darrow wasn't a dead city.

There were living everywhere. Even alone on an empty street, he wasn't alone. Every building had humans behind its walls, the air itself was saturated with the smell of living pounding him between the eyes. It made the hunger rear and demand he do something. It made his teeth bare and clench.

He didn't want to hurt anyone. He'd promised. He'd promised himself and the people he'd met that he wouldn't.

But the new hunger demanded.

ExpandCut for the eating of a live animal )

June 2018

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