Cool, he gets the Julie Grigio stamp of approval. It feels more like a high five.
R realizes he wants to hoard those too. It’s a brand new collection. Just started a few days ago.
The zombie doesn’t resist as Julie takes the lead this time, lurching after her (he gets a cobweb to the face, giving the spider a nasty wake-up call), and trying not to get too caught up with the whole hand-holding thing. R follows along, his face doing funny things. It’s trying to smile again on him. He wracks his brain trying to think of how many times he’s tried in the past. There’s not many. In fact he can count them and this is coming from the guy who can’t even count to three on the bad days. Now he twitches his face into a smile behind Julie and it feels good, right, dusty but he can work with that.
R groans from behind her. “Good…company? Try…great…company.”
Not exactly Mr. Smooth here but since he’s Mr. Zombie, R thinks he has an excuse. He can do cheesy instead. Cheesy makes Julie smile. R gives her hand a squeeze.
The train they find is slanted at a sharp angle where it ran up against the wall, most of the doors blocked or crumpled into sheet metal. R doesn’t like that the windows are all shattered, exposed, and then he realizes he’s still thinking like a Living survivor, trying to put himself in one’s shoes, and that’s impressive he managed to hold onto that for this long. Usually it slides away into the murk. It’s easier to hold onto things with Julie here, for some reason. Don’t ask him why: he doesn’t get it either.
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R realizes he wants to hoard those too. It’s a brand new collection. Just started a few days ago.
The zombie doesn’t resist as Julie takes the lead this time, lurching after her (he gets a cobweb to the face, giving the spider a nasty wake-up call), and trying not to get too caught up with the whole hand-holding thing. R follows along, his face doing funny things. It’s trying to smile again on him. He wracks his brain trying to think of how many times he’s tried in the past. There’s not many. In fact he can count them and this is coming from the guy who can’t even count to three on the bad days. Now he twitches his face into a smile behind Julie and it feels good, right, dusty but he can work with that.
R groans from behind her. “Good…company? Try…great…company.”
Not exactly Mr. Smooth here but since he’s Mr. Zombie, R thinks he has an excuse. He can do cheesy instead. Cheesy makes Julie smile. R gives her hand a squeeze.
The train they find is slanted at a sharp angle where it ran up against the wall, most of the doors blocked or crumpled into sheet metal. R doesn’t like that the windows are all shattered, exposed, and then he realizes he’s still thinking like a Living survivor, trying to put himself in one’s shoes, and that’s impressive he managed to hold onto that for this long. Usually it slides away into the murk. It’s easier to hold onto things with Julie here, for some reason. Don’t ask him why: he doesn’t get it either.