and i'm never real;

Which isn’t, by any means, unreasonable. It’s just not something she’s stuck on at the moment. She’s got her photo album tucked safe away in her bag, and she’ll dwell on it when she has the time too.]

I’m asking about you.

Trodding up beside him, she inherently speaks with her hands as well as her words.] Rough day there, pal?

[She likes watching his eyes follow the movements. Likes knowing that he’ll learn, but also that as of now he knows very little. She could say anything to him.]

[Julian stands huddled by a long corridor near the group’s primary sleeping area. He had braved the trip out of bed, but the dark is not something into which he is ready to venture.]

It’s dark.

[She shrugs and gestures to the window.] Came to enjoy the scenery, I guess. [Though she doesn’t exactly mean the zombies.] No matter how much there is to do, there’s always this ever-lurking sense of dullness. Duties don’t satisfy the mind in everyone.

Not really the best way to. I mean it doesn’t always help, but it’s… It’s something.

[Now he's only smiling because she's smiling. That's not common for him, smiling, especially not because of another person and while he entertains the thought and the entertainment is new (and exciting), but he wants to shut the emotion down and shove it away. He doesn't deserve it and feeling it makes him feel like he doesn't.

Right then. {Gabe nodded slowly, seemingly okay with the lack of consistency in the conversation between the two of them. But the other had been looking out the window, so he focuses on that. After taking a few steps towards the window, Gabe watches through the dirty panes of glass.} Nice weather, eh? Or shitty weather. Depending on how you like the fall.

I’m Gabe, by the way.

Not for us, no. But one might argue that’s they’re somewhat miraculous. Proof of life after death, even if it is one that’s… less than ideal.

Oh. Oh, no. That’s cool. You can talk to me. {A kind smile appear on Gabe’s face. He has a friendly nature to start with, whether a side effect of the apocalypse or a longstanding trait, he isn’t sure. But it’s there and he likes communicating with others.} What were we supposed to be talking about?

[Aranea sidles up to stand beside him, her hands tucked in her pockets and a small grin spread across her features.]

They’re quite a sight aren’t they?

[He might have jumped if she wasn't such a soft seeming creature, a one with lovely blonde hair and nice li--... no. Nope. No. Of course, now he's a little flustered. But when is he not?]

{Gabe stops when the man next to him suddenly pops his head in his direction, looking as if he’s a kid with his fingers barely brushing the cookie at the bottom of the jar. The musician stops, finger pointing to himself as he glances around to see if the other could be speaking to anyone else. But he couldn’t be because no one else is in the room.} Who? Me?

[Kris almost scoffs at that, but her lips just press into a thin line] I’m not angry. [That was a lie. She was. She was pissed. Livid. That another one of their own was dead and out there on the cold hard pavement. Furious that it was because of another one of those fucking monsters. Pissed that she wasn’t there protect anyone.] Look, you just stay inside. Make sure no one goes outside either. 

Everyone stay inside. [says Kris through gritted teeth as she makes her way towards the doors with the AR-15 in her hands]

But hey, the world is over, right? It’s not like we really have an abundance of people to worry about befriending or mating with or whatever. Don’t think we really get to be so picky anymore.