all numb { zadok

[casey leigh kerr]

-----The skyline was beautiful on fire:
--------All twisted metal stretching upwards,
-----------Everything washed in a thin orange haze.

All Casey Kerr could think of as she rose silently through the city was how it used to be so alive. She had lived in Leeds her entire life, pulled around by the nose when she couldn't keep up with the pace. She remembered how, when the sun sank low enough, every light in the city seemed to snap on at once, leaving the city a glowing mass so huge she used to imagine it could be seen from space. Yeah, she wanted to be seen from space. Now, as she cruised along, she took note of how dead the city felt. How dead the city was. It used to be all beautiful old buildings reaching high into the sky, and it still was. Except now those old buildings were covered; doors and windows shut and rolled over with this thick, opaque white plastic.

As she went along, a line got stuck in her head: "and the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides". Lonely. That was enough to pull at her heart. Of course she was lonely, she had traded in the people who had given her shelter for a romp through her old habitat. Everyone was dead, that much was evident. She had come across bodies laying in the streets that were only partially decomposed even after two years. That had been days ago, and the image wouldn't leave her mind. Mostly because there was a message that seemed attached. The virus wasn't dead yet.

Casey stomped to a stop in front of an old apartment complex, looking at the building from some several feet away. For a moment she just sat there on her bike, staring at the building in it's abandon. It had been an old building — was still an old building — but with modern attachments. Every window and door was sealed off with that same plastic. The same plastic as nearly every other building was. Looking away, she stared down at the black metal gas tank in front of her. She had recently stolen gas from a nearby station, and knew that if she left the bike out there, there was a good chance it'd get stolen and she'd be fucked. So she pulled the keys out of the ignition, unzipped her coat, and stuck them in the gun pocket that came standard with most leather riding jackets. Then she swung the kickstand down and leaned the bike to it's rest.

It took her a while to get to the door, just because she had ridden into and all the way through the city, and this was the first time she had hopped off the bike in what felt like forever. When she did reach the plastic, the first thing she did was slide the box cutter from her boot and pop it open. She sliced the plastic in an x, which would make the exit from that building all the easier. She didn't slide the blade back into it's sheath, but rather kept it ready just in case. In case of what? She didn't know. Casey felt a bit silly, a bit paranoid as she pulled back the moaning doors and stepped into a horrid stench. All she knew was that she wanted to be ready for anything.

What she found, though, she was not ready for. The first apartment she entered stank much worse than the building itself. There were corpses lain out on the couch, and another one slumped on the toilet. She shuddered, rubbed her arms as though she was cold, and turned to walk out. As she did, she noticed that there were platefuls of food that looked as though it had been there so long it had fossilized. She felt her gag reflex trigger and just barely got her helmet off in time to turn and vomit on the floor in the corner next to the door. She felt bad about it, but with a second thought, she realized that no one left in the apartments was going to care. She spit several times to get rid of what she could, put her helmet back on, and stepped back into the hallway.

notes: not much, just don't read and eat. :D
count: 732
sounds: in the house - in a heartbeat, 28 Weeks Later Soundtrack
outfit: bike and accessories not currently included.

[romain zadok fontenot]

You said, "The cinders are falling like snow."
------There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty,
---------------Bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.

Zadok had never seen so much death in his life as he did making his way through Leeds. He wasn’t quite sure that it really hit him; how did that saying go again? A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths is a statistic. Stalin had it right, to be honest. Zadok didn’t feel anything, driving through the derelict city. He was sort of just going through the motions, as far as he could tell. There was no sadness, no pity. Just a sort of a numbness that blocked everything out, made it all easier to bear…he was desensitized, one might say. He supposed psychologists had a term for this sort of phenomenon, but he didn’t really care about that. It didn’t matter anymore. None of it did. All that mattered to him, now, was that he had a refined knowledge of how to repair things, a rudimentary idea of how to take care of himself in a fight, and a desire to survive. And that was enough.

What he didn’t have, however, was a surplus of supplies. And that, combined with a sort of restlessness that had been growing constantly over the past several weeks, was what had finally driven him to venture into the city; to ground zero, one might say. It might have been reckless. He didn’t particularly care. Call it impulsive, but Zadok still went, even if he wasn’t entirely sure if the virus had gone dormant or not. Maybe it was cabin fever that had driven him off the farm. He didn’t know, and that wasn’t of any importance. What mattered was that he was there now, and there were things he needed. Most specifically, medicine. But that’s not where he headed first, after filling up on gas; no, first stop was the weapons shop to loot a bit. He had no idea what he would encounter in the city, but he knew that if there were any other survivors, they might be hostile. Best to be prepared for anything and everything. Murphy’s Law and all that. But he wanted to get things done quickly so he could find a place to sleep that night, which was coming on pretty damn fast. So, the minute he’d grabbed a sawn-off shotgun, loaded it, and stuffed some extra ammo into his jacket pockets, he got back into his car. Drove to the nearest pharmacy, did the same thing for the insulin. Then he hauled ass out of there, and headed north. It had been the safest district when the city had been thriving, and instinct pushed him that way now.

There were plenty of abandoned cars and the like left to rust in the streets, so when Zadok first saw the motorcycle parked outside of the Hoole Apartments, he didn’t think anything of it. But then he noticed that someone had slashed open the plastic covering the door. Now, that was odd. He hadn’t noticed anything like that anywhere else in the city. Then again, he hadn’t really looked. But, nevertheless, he’d decided to stop a little ways behind the motorcycle and investigate. He shouldered open the door, shut it behind him, and hit the button on the controls to lock the doors; he wasn’t about to risk his car getting stolen. He’d really rather not be stranded, thanks very much. Dropping his keys neatly into the pocket of his jeans, he approached the motorcycle, settled into a crouch, then held a hand a few inches away from the engine. He couldn’t help but grin a bit when he felt heat radiating off of the bike. Someone had recently shut the bike off, and he was more than willing to bet that whoever it was had gone into the apartments.

Zadok considered his options for a moment, finally deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to check the building out. But nevertheless, as he made his way into the building, he was cautious about it. He made sure that his knife was in-hand, and that his new-found gun would be easy access. No need to be an idiot about anything, after all. But when he heard the unmistakable sounds of someone vomiting in the first apartment he came across, he felt a twinge of sympathy. Oh, he didn’t show anything, and he sure as hell didn’t sheath his knife again. No, that would just be foolish, and his mamma sure as hell didn’t raise him to be a fool. But he did give whoever it was some privacy, instead choosing to linger in the hall until they decided to make an entrance.

Propping his hip against the wall, Zadok turned his attention on the blade of the knife. It was something that his uncle had given him on his twenty-first birthday; one of the few things that he had left of his family. He felt his chest tighten a bit, thinking about it. But before he could sink too much into despair, whoever had been in the apartment stepped out into the hall once again. Zadok cleared his throat, grinned lazily, and spoke up from his place just inside the shadows, his accent slurring his words into not much better than a drawl, the ths turning into ds. “Well, well. It would seem dat Le Bon Dieu saw fit to give me some company dis evening.” Straightening a bit, he cocked his head and studied whoever it was closely. Apart from the fact that they were, in fact, human, he couldn’t really make out a damn thing. Nevertheless, he offered an introduction, of sorts. It might have been a bit rude, but it was safer than just handing out information left and right without a guarantee of anything in return. “Romain Fontenot, but you can call me Zadok. Now, I’m gon’ ask you your name, and you’d best answer me tout suite. I’m not a very patient man.”

[casey leigh kerr]

-----The skyline was beautiful on fire:
--------All twisted metal stretching upwards,
-----------Everything washed in a thin orange haze.

The hallway was only a faint relief from the stench in the apartment itself. Something about the smell of bodies rotting hadn't gotten to her. Why the food? She convulsed suddenly, feeling like she needed to vomit again, but willed the feeling away. That's when she heard it. Someone talking. At first she thought she was going crazy — it wouldn't really surprise her. See, she thought she might have gone crazy before, and needed something to confirm it. That was it.

Rather than respond, she found herself settling into something she often called attack mode. Her guard was pretty high these days, and she found that attack mode came easily to her, like a second nature. Casey became completely still for a long moment, before turning slowly. It felt like an eternity to her, but eventually she found herself facing another person. She wasn't crazy, apparently. However, it was hard to see a lot, she noted, through the tinted helmet. What she did make out, however, was a figure standing against the wall. She thought it might be male, no one she had ever seen before. Of course, in a city as big as Leeds, it would be impossible to have met everyone when they were alive. There was another thing, anyway, that made her believe that this person was a complete stranger. He had an accent she had never before heard in her life. She liked it, but it didn't distract her from the idea that this person was a potential threat.

It had pissed her off, what her had said. Particularly the way he said it. Lofting her brow (a motion lost under the helmet), she slowly reached up and grasped the helmet. In one swift motion, she pulled it off. Blonde hair fell down around her shoulders, black streaks decorating the under layer. Brown roots were starting to show up top, something she didn't particularly care about at the moment. Her brow was still raised as she looked over the man across from her, her eyes making a sweeping motion without any regards as to hide it. She cradled the helmet under one arm and shifted her weight to that hip. "I guess that makes two of us, then." She said back, feeling like one of those femme fatales from an old James Bond movie; she had the velvety almost alto voice for it. She was willing to bet the feeling was lost on the stranger. Disregarding the demand of her name, the feeling of adrenaline that started coursing through her veins finally caught up with her. Rather than lunge at him like an idiot, she felt herself become absolutely calm, something she had trained herself to do for years.

Casey stood there for a minute, examining him. One of the first things she took note of was the knife in his hand. That was completely fair: she had a box cutter in hers. Not exactly the same, but just as dangerous in capable hands... and hers were capable. "Casey Kerr," she said after a moment of debate over whether or not to give him that much. He had given his name, sure, but that didn't mean she needed to give him hers. Especially not if he were a raider. He didn't particularly look like a raider, but that didn't mean much in these days. Lifting her chin as though pointing at him, she said, "You can put that toy away." She clicked the box cutter closed, and slid it into her back pocket. It seemed like a foolish move, and she knew it. She was willing to bet that this Zadok was probably thinking she was an idiot, and that was perfectly okay with her. She was giving him a sense of safety, making him think he didn't have to worry about the weapon in her back pocket. He didn't, really, but it wouldn't take her long to take it back out and open it if she needed to. She had practiced. Besides, she didn't need the knife to fend him off.

[/color]

notes: The helmet es off!
count: 706
sounds: Dead Flag Blues - Godspeed! You Black Emperor.
outfit: bike and batteries not currently included.

[romain zadok fontenot]

You said, "The cinders are falling like snow."
------There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty,
---------------Bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.

Zadok had been focused mostly on the box cutter in his company’s hand, combined with the sudden stillness that had settled over their frame. The sort of stillness that accompanied an adrenaline rush, and might very well lead to whoever it was attempting to shank him with their box cutter. So, needless to say, he stared as, when the helmet came off, it revealed not a man, but a woman. A particularly attractive woman, to be exact. Of course, she looked absolutely pissed at that moment, but he couldn’t blame her, after what he’d said. She probably thought that he was the scum of the earth right then. And he sure as hell felt like it. Sweeping his gaze over the woman’s face and body as she spoke a couple of times, then pocketed the weapon, he didn’t quite register her words, other than the fact that her voice matched the rest of her. He was too busy trying to get over the shock, at that moment. Oh, he knew he was gaping. But he couldn’t help himself. And then, it was like her words went and slapped him across the face, and he forced his gaze back on hers, and struggled for a coherent answer.

“Be still my heart,” he at last murmured lightly, moving his free hand to his chest. The words were intended to lessen the near-palpable tension in the air; it wouldn’t do at all for things to get violent. But even though they might have been absurd, he wasn’t mocking her. On the contrary, really. He dropped his hand back down to his side and continued in a more conversational tone of voice, grinning even more broadly than before. “Naw, you certainly aren’ a patient man, are you, Casey? Far from it, I’d say. Not dat I’m complainin’, mind.” He shook his head a bit, studying her shamelessly once more. One might even say that he was checking her out. Which probably wasn’t too smart, seeing as she was armed and held herself like a woman used to fighting. “Day-um.”

Zadok suddenly realized how absolutely bizarre this situation was. He was hitting on a woman with a box cutter in her pocket while holding a knife, in a putrid building full of corpses and rotting food and God knew what else. This had to be one for the record books. At least the Fontenot records, anyway. So, he backed off a bit, turning his attention, instead, to the fact that she’d almost immediately put her weapon back into her pocket. Now, that showed that she was either really brave, or really, really stupid. But while he wasn’t about to make a final judgment on that matter just yet, there was the fact that she exuded what one might call self-assurance, and the fact that she hadn’t immediately jumped at him, to consider. Both of said details led him to believe that she wasn’t stupid. Maybe over-confident. But probably not stupid. Nevertheless, it stung his pride a bit when it seemed that she had decided that he wasn’t even remotely a threat. He’d like to think that there was that possibility still lingering in her mind.

Turning her words over in his mind, Zadok finally shrugged, and, chuckling a bit, tucked the knife back into its sheath. “Toy, huh? Well, fair enough. Just ’cause you put yours away first. But, cher, you oughtta know dat underestimatin’ a man is one sho’ way to wreck his ego. It’s not a very nice ting to do.” He raised both hands, palms outward in a gesture of good will, and took one step towards her. Just close enough so that he wasn’t standing in the shadows anymore, so she could see him clearly. It wasn’t polite to just hang back like that, and his grand-mere would have been ashamed of him if he had done so. Then, dropping his hands back to his sides, he proceeded onto more rational conversation. “So, ma petite enflamme, what brings you to Leeds, and to dis humble abode in particular?”

[casey leigh kerr]

-----The skyline was beautiful on fire:
--------All twisted metal stretching upwards,
-----------Everything washed in a thin orange haze.

Casey watched as the man standing across from her stood gaping, staring her down. Needless to say, she wasn't impressed. She didn't say anything though, it's not like it hadn't happened before. A long, long time ago. Funny, it had only been two years, but it felt like an eternity. An eternity since she had seen that beautiful smiling face... Casey didn't want to think about it. That's the exact reason she had avoided going to that particular district. She didn't want to slice open the plastic, to step through and into the past. Everyone was dead, and they were going to stay dead, and no amount of crying and pleading was going to change that. She had tried.

Shaking the thought off, she watched as his lips moved and his hand rose to his chest in a rather cheesy theatrical way. She rolled her eyes and listened to what he had to say. Casey was going to cut the conversation short rather quickly, partially because she was annoyed and partially because she needed to find a place to be before night fell, and she'd be damned if it was going to be here Her tongue met her canines and she shifted her weight to her other hip, trying not to get too pissed off about being hit on. She might have enjoyed it, were it under any other circumstances and she hadn't just lost what she believed to be the love of her life such a short time ago. But how was he to know that?

For a moment, she almost felt bad about being so off-putting to what seemed to be a friendly almost-stranger. He wasn't being horrible to her, and he wasn't out to kill her. Maybe it was just from being so on edge. Running her tongue along her teeth, she answered his question. "I've lived here my entire life. This city? It's where I plan on dieing." She shrugged her shoulders irritatedly as if trying to roll the tension out of them. She had given up on being annoyed at Zadok, but couldn't shake the actual feeling. Mostly, she was annoyed at her current situation. "I'm looking for some light weaponry." She smiled then, a scheming sort of smile. It said 'and if you don't back the fuck off, I might use it on you'. Turning, she took a few steps away from him, then stopped, thinking about it.

If Zadok had had a knife in his hand, it meant he was prepared to fight. If he was smart enough to be thinking about it, he might be useful. Looking over her shoulder, she eyed him. She didn't make any effort to conceal it, and figured that he didn't really care if he were the type to check someone out so obviously as he had been. Casey turned, and then stopped, looking him over from head to foot in the diminishing light. Then she smirked. "Help me look?"

Being the kind of person that she was, she didn't really wait for a response. Instead, she turned on heel and began toward the apartment across the hall. Of course, there was no guarantee that there would be anything useful... but anything seemed to have a use these days. Reaching out, she went to turn the handle, but found the door unlatched. She didn't think much of it, knowing that when she was really sick she kind of sucked at the whole closing doors thing. Planting her palm flat against the door, she pushed the door open hard and listened as the sound of the handle hitting the wall echoed through the hallway. She didn't move, just stood in the doorway for a minute.

This apartment was in much better condition than the first she had tried. The dishes were clean, though covered in a thick layer of dust, stacked neatly in the strainer. There weren't any bodies on the couch, but she did take note of the crate full of toys in one corner of what she assumed to be the living room. That stopped her dead in her tracks. Despite what she might have come across as, Casey was not heartless by any means. The idea that a child had died in such a horrible way was heart-breaking. Turning, she spotted picture frames settled in neat rows on the entertainment stand. Swallowing, she picked one up. It was covered in so much dust that she couldn't really make out the picture behind it. So she didn't. She set it back down in the exact spot she had taken it from.

Next, she turned and moved automatically down the short hallway that held bedrooms. One of them was open, and she peeked inside. An emaciated corpse lay on the bed, no blankets to cover it. That didn't bother her, and so she moved on. That's when she saw it: a bedroom door decorated with all kinds of kid's pictures, and wooden blocks that said "Josh". Her throat worked again, and she pushed the door open. Sure enough, there was a small body, tucked away for sleep. "Oh, God." She wailed, stumbling back against the door frame. Her helmet clattered to the floor.

[/color]

notes: Poor little boy ;[
count: 924
sounds: Survivalism - NIN
outfit: bike and batteries not currently included.

[romain zadok fontenot]

You said, "The cinders are falling like snow."
------There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty,
---------------Bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.

Zadok could tell that he was pissing her off; he wasn’t a moron, after all. But he couldn’t help it. While it wasn’t exactly in his nature to flirt, he did it instinctively anymore. Ever since the outbreak. It was an odd sort of a way to keep others at a safe distance, but he did it so that people couldn’t see exactly how much their entire situation hurt him. Just smile, flirt, and everyone thinks that you’re perfectly fine. No damaged goods here. What a laugh. The truth was, Zadok was just as damaged as everyone else. He just hid it a hell of a lot better than the rest. Still, he had impressions to keep up, so he smirked at her question, then gave his usual flippant answer. “Cher, for you, I’d walk to de ends of de earth to look for whatever de hell you wanted me to find.” Striding down the hall after her, Zadok turned into the apartment across from the one she’d just entered, figuring that they could cover more ground faster that way. Besides, he sure as hell didn’t want to be stuck in this building for the night. It was much too depressing for his tastes.

The room was almost too clean. It had that sort of hospital-esque sterility to it, in spite of the dust that had collected on the various surfaces over the past couple of years. There wasn’t a single thing out of place. He shook his head in wonderment at the state of things. Now, speaking from experience, he’d never been able to keep things that neat. Oh, he wasn’t a slob, per se, but he definitely wasn’t a neat-freak, either.

Making quick work of the living room/kitchen area, Zadok moved on to the bedroom. Poking his head inside, the first thing he saw were the semi-decomposed, partially gnawed upon corpses of an elderly couple. He wasn’t surprised. After two years with practically nothing to control them, there were probably rats galore in just about any building you’d come across. But what struck him about the two was that they had…clung to each other, even in their last moments. He blinked a couple of times. He hadn’t been expecting to find that sort of thing anywhere. Not anymore. Maybe he was disillusioned. He didn’t know. But in any case, he found himself standing over the bed. Ignoring the stench, he tugged the blanket up over the two bodies, letting it flutter back down over their heads. And that’s when he heard a crash from the apartment across the hall, followed by a muffled sob.

Zadok was out of the one apartment and into the other in a matter of moments, tugging his knife back out of its sheath as he went. Most would think that he was being a bit ridiculous and overprotective over someone he’d only met minutes ago, but that didn’t matter to him. He liked to think he had a good judge of character, and he knew that at that moment, Casey was more good to him alive than she was dead. So he wasn’t taking any chances. Of course, when he found her standing there unharmed, but in tears, he came to an abrupt halt, staring at her in confusion. Not quite ready to put his knife away yet, he made his way over to her, glancing into the bedroom to make sure that there were no raiders laying in wait.

The thing that had made her so upset became apparent almost instantly, and Zadok hastily put the knife back. The body of a small boy was sprawled across the bed, and, if it weren’t for the stench and the slight signs of decomposition, he could have believed the child was sleeping. Of course, it was obvious that the boy was dead, and that, in and of itself, was enough to break anyone’s heart. Anyone that had a heart to begin with, anyway. But while Zadok’s heart ached for the child, he hadn’t been moved to tears. And Casey didn’t seem to be the sort that cried often. This could only mean that something else had been nagging at her before she’d seen the body. What it was, he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure if he ever would know. But she was the only company he’d found so far, and his heart went out to her.

Zadok wrapped a hand around one of Casey’s elbows, then steered her back into the hallway, nudging her helmet back out of the doorway with his toe as he went. Then, he reached out, grabbed the door knob, and swung the door shut once more. The only thing he could do was to hide the room from her once again. Not that it would do a lot of good; the damage was done. What has been seen could not be unseen, and all of that. But he could still try. Turning back to Casey, Zadok framed her face in his hands, carefully brushing away the tears with his thumbs. “C’mon, now, ma petite enflamme. It’s okay. Don’ cry. I don’ tink my poor heart could take it if you cried.” He made sure to keep his tone as gentle as he could; he didn’t want to rub her the wrong way, so to speak. And with what he was saying, that would have been easy to do, given the impression that he got of her personality. No, the most important thing at the moment was to calm her down a bit, and then, once he’d accomplished that, they could finish their search and leave the apartments behind. But, of course, he had to figure out a way to get her mind off of the boy and whatever else had gotten her upset, first.

Zadok hesitated, studying her a moment longer, before he finally did the only thing he could think of to get her mind off of the kid in the bedroom. Wrapping his arms around her smaller frame, he gathered her against his chest, then bent a bit to press his lips to the top of her head. After a moment, he turned his head to the side, resting his cheek on the place he’d just kissed, instead. Well, if she decided to stab him with her box cutter, he wouldn’t be particularly surprised. After all, they were practically strangers, and here he was, acting like they’d known each other for years. Hell, in her position, he probably would have stabbed himself long before then.

[casey leigh kerr]

-----The skyline was beautiful on fire:
--------All twisted metal stretching upwards,
-----------Everything washed in a thin orange haze.

The shock of the virus hadn't set in as well as she thought it had. While she had been able to cover up the pain from losing all of her loved ones, a sort of numbness had settled over her and allowed her to go through buildings, see all the corpses, and pass on. Something about this particular day had erased all that, what with the food on the plates and now this. Up to this, every corpse Casey had stumbled upon was older. Elderly, teenagers, young adults... Not like this. The little corpse on the bed couldn't have been any more than nine or ten.

Lifting hand, she she studied her shaking digits and the ring on them. She had never had children, had never really wanted any, but Rachel had. Of course, it was humanly impossible for them to have a baby together, but they could have adopted. Artificial insemination. Something. Actually, they had been talking about it almost days before Rachel had gotten sick. God. Why children? It didn't seem right for the life of someone who hadn't even had their first real kiss, their first sexual encounter, their first love to die just like that. She couldn't see him now, though, she had closed her eyes.

The virus did kill indiscriminately, this was entirely obvious. The corpse on the bed some ten feet away from her had made that more obvious. She hadn't really thought about it until that moment. It had taken everyone away from her. Absolutely everyone. It made her wonder about Zadok, too. Who had it taken from him? She should ask. Talk about it somehow, let him know he wasn't alone even if he did seem like a total tool. She just couldn't move, though. She opened her eyes and looked down, her knees were locked together. So she stared at them for a long moment, not thinking about much more than how unfair life really was.

The touch on her arms made her jump and turn her head quickly to see who it was. It was Zadok. If he had said anything to her before that, she hadn't caught it. She watched as though from a mile away as he put his knife back, and only came back to reality as she was being dragged out of the room. Casey thought to protest, to scream and wail that they had to get him, that all they had to do was go in there and touch that frail little cheek and take him with them. When the door closed behind them, a bit of rationale came back. That little boy was dead, and no matter how much she wanted it to be false, it wasn't going to change.

Casey didn't say anything when he touched her face, wiped away her tears as though he had known her her whole life and loved her. She just stared at him, feeling like a child herself, with large blank eyes. It was when he grabbed her and pulled him to her that she finally snapped back. That most everything else was washed away. Her body went rigid, and after a moment she wriggled out of his grasp, swooping down and scooping up her helmet as she did so. She swallowed hard and looked at the helmet for a while before she said anything. "H—" the words were lost, though, caught in her throat.

She cleared her throat, reached up and wiped her eyes harshly. Lifting her head, she slowly regained her footing in this world. Now she had seen it all. Anything else she came across from this point forward was going to be nothing to her. "Hold on." She said after another moment, "There was something in there I wanted." Without another word, she turned swiftly and ducked back into th little boy's room. The first thing she did was pull the covers up over him, covering his head and all. In her head she thought 'Good night sweet prince, may a flock of angels fly thee to your rest'. With a sigh, she wandered over to the toychest and pulled out a baseball bat.

The thing was something that she hadn't seen in a long time: a wooden baseball bat, infinitely more sturdy than the aluminum ones they made now. Of course, they weren't really all the great against baseballs, but for cracking skulls and ribs? Yeah. The last time a raider came by, she didn't have anything with which to defend herself. She could have handed his ass to him with her bare hands, mind you, but it was pretty hard to falcon punch someone off of a motorcycle and not break your hand in the process. So she let it go. Now? She didn't have to.

Casey stumbled back out of the room and closed the door softly behind herself with a click, then gave a half-hearted smirk to Zadok. "Fuckers wanna steal shit now, they're going to have to go through me to get it." She swallowed, took a few more steps, and turned to look out a window. "Hey, if you want some company tonight... or for a little while... I know where we can stay. Harewood house isn't far from here. It's pretty huge, and it'll be hard to keep a constant watch on with just the two of it, but I think anything is better than staying here for the night."

She sighed then, rolled her shoulders and headed for the door. No, she wasn't the patient type, but something told her that her new found... friend wasn't the type to just let a woman out of his sight. Much less a pretty one, and Casey knew that she was far from ugly. Swinging the baseball bat up, she curled her arms up and let them hang from the baseball bat like a stockade.

[/color]

notes: HOLY JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.
count: 1037
sounds: God Given - NIN
outfit: bike and batteries not currently included.

[romain zadok fontenot]

You said, "The cinders are falling like snow."
------There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty,
---------------Bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.

Zadok watched her in concern as she squirmed away from him, snatching her helmet from the ground on her way. Well, he watched the top of her head, anyway. She was too busy staring at the helmet to meet his gaze. Of course, he wasn’t particularly surprised that she’d pulled away from him so quickly. Hell, he was lucky she didn’t decide to kick his ass. Which, he was sure she could have if she really wanted to. He certainly wasn’t about to push her hard enough to find out.

As such, he kept his mouth shut while she made her way back into the boy’s room. But that didn’t make him any less concerned, and as he watched her move around the room, he couldn’t help but wonder about her past. Something had hurt her deeply, that much was obvious. He couldn’t be sure, but he was willing to bet his left testicle that it was the result of the virus. Everyone had lost someone when it broke out. There were no lucky ones. No miraculous occurrences where the virus skipped over an entire family. So, who had Casey lost? But, while he was curious, Zadok wasn’t going to pressure her into telling him. No need to open wounds that hadn’t had time to close. Not unless he was sure that he could repair the damage, anyway.

Casey had gone over to the toy chest, and Zadok lifted a brow at what she’d retrieved from it. It was a baseball bat. And not one of those heavy-duty aluminum ones that most kids had these days. No, it was a nice wooden one that would do some serious damage to raiders…or anyone else that happened to piss her off, he supposed. Which was just more incentive not to get on her bad side. Not any more than he’d already managed, at any rate.

He listened to her give a feeble attempt at humor, his heart going out to her once again. What she’d said only served to remind him that she was just as alone as he was, and while he knew that she probably didn’t want sympathy, he couldn’t help it. He had one hell of a soft spot when it came right down to it, encompassing pretty much everyone who had known loss at some point in their life, and even more so if they happened to be a woman. Which, as he’d already reasoned, was probably just about every woman left alive. Oh, he wasn’t stupid enough to let his guard down around everyone he came across, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t sympathize with them.

Zadok was sure that he’d made an ass out of himself, so when she’d extended the invitation, he was a bit taken aback. But before he could answer, she’d already started off, out of the apartment, and he had to hurry a bit to catch up with her. Then, offering a weak grin as he fell into step beside her, he gave a half-hearted attempt at an advance again. “Well, ma petite enflamme, I tought you’d never ask. I don’ tink I could’ve dealt wi’ de suspense much longer.”

He said it by wrote, and he was fairly certain that it was obvious by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t entirely in it, this time. But he said it anyway. And then, stepping through the plastic that covered the entrance to the building and starting to head for his car, he hesitated, and spoke again. “You sho’ you want me to hang around? Mamma always tol’ me never to impose. An’ my mamma was a smart woman, Le Bon Dieu rest her soul.”

Zadok was being completely serious now, and he more than half-expected Casey to change her mind. He couldn’t blame her if she did. He was probably the first non-hostile human she’d met since coming back to Leeds, and he knew himself to be a complete jackass. Hell, he disgusted even himself some days. But that didn’t mean that he was about to change his modus operandi at all. No, it was the easiest method of keeping others at arms’ length. And the least painful, for that matter. Tucking one hand into his pocket, he fidgeted with his keys for a moment while he waited for her answer.

[casey leigh kerr]

-----The skyline was beautiful on fire:
--------All twisted metal stretching upwards,
-----------Everything washed in a thin orange haze.

Casey stepped through the plastic and was instantly hit with the cool autumn night's air. It was fresh, and it was clean. Anything was better than that building. Of course, it didn't help that it had probably been sealed off like that in plastic through the heat of the summer. She gagged just thinking about it, in spite of the fresh air filling her nostrils. Casey drew in a deep breath through her nose and tried to force the tiny memories imprinted on her memory from the last half an hour or so.

As she started for her bike, she heard Zadok speak again and stopped. Turning, she smiled at him as though to say that he really was dense. Of course, she appreciated that he had bothered to ask, and it amused her slightly that he was trying not to press his boundaries. Maybe he wasn't dense. Maybe he was just actually trying to be nice. Casey wasn't expecting it, and she was tired, and nothing really made a whole lot a sense anymore. So she shrugged one shoulder, and bobbed her head in an obstructed nod. "You're not the only one who could use some company." She said, this way not directly confirming or denying whether she wanted him to follow. If he was smart, he would figure it out.

So, she waddled lazily over to her bike and began trying to figure out how to fix the bat to it, and finally decided to loop it through her backpack straps from behind. It took a few minutes, and she probably looked like an absolute loon as she wiggled the object into it's place, but she finally got it to sit where she could reach it if she needed it and where it wouldn't just fall out with the slightest bump. Then, she reached into her pocket and fished out her keys.

"Follow me," she said, as she turned her head over her shoulder to take a last look at Zadok for the next few minutes. In spite of all that had happened, and his... personality that grated so easily against hers, he really was the first person she had seen since she had left her second home. And that he wasn't trying to kill her was an absolute plus. She nodded at him. Then in one quick, fluid movement bound her hair up and popped the helmet on her head, settling herself back into androgyny.

She swung one long leg over the bike and popped the keys in at the same time, a motion she was long accustomed to. The bike fired up with a harsh noise that really was rather indescribable. Sort of a long wailing scream combined with a low growl. The sound that set Honda from Kawasaki. As soon as the noise was over, she was gone. Of course, she didn't take off too fast. No, that was rude. After all, she had needed the company, and she didn't really want to lose him, even if it were a short ride away.

It was dark enough now that between the tint of the visor and the time, Casey could hardly see. So she switched on the headlights and glided easily around the obstacles provided from the city's abandonment. The streets were lined with papers, some old and some relatively new, which was odd but not really all that odd after all the things she had seen in the last few years. Oh, there were bodies in the streets, too. This didn't much phase Casey as she moved along.

The buildings looked like sleeping giants, nestled next to one another in the cold of the night, the plastic on their windows sort of like translucent eyelids. The whole thing was creepy, but she didn't think much about it. The familiar feeling of being utterly empty had returned. Even the cool wind on her exposed flesh didn't really matter anymore. She could see the manor coming up, getting bigger until it's two story glory loomed above her. For the first time, in a long time, she felt something. She felt like she was home.

notes: if you want to post Zadok driving here, go ahead. you could post it in Harewood, too, and then I'll just reply to that. it doesn't matter.
count: 738
sounds: hello zepp - saw soundtrack / in the house - in a heartbeat, 28 weeks later soundtrack / dead flag blues - godspeed! you black emperor
outfit: bike and accessories not currently included.