R | WARM BODIES (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shambler) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-05-20 05:07 pm
shambler) wrote in thecapitol2013-05-20 05:07 pm
Entry tags:
Looking for Love [OPEN]
Who| R [OPEN]
What| R takes it upon himself to ask for dating advice from whoever he bumps into (sometimes literally). This can be from advice to how to be the most romantic Romeo ever to the downright awful. To make intros easier, we can handwave R introducing himself and assume he’s already corraled them into this if you like.
Where|| Around the Training Center, the Tribute Tower, and the Speakeasy. Possibly the park.
When| | Before the Victor Crowning
Warnings/Notes|| Nothing so far.
R’s on a mission to acquire intel for How to Date; Revised for Zombies.
Oh, and for scrawny little guys like Howard. Although if you asked him, personally R believes Howard’s already got one step in the door just because he’s got a working heart. Don’t tell Howard he thought that.
The point is R’s motivated. It’s almost unicorn rare to know what he wants and how to get it. Motivation doesn’t come easy to zombies, R feeling the strain raking its claws across his brain folds as he takes his first stumbling step into today. His Escort turns to stare while she primps her hair, surprised that he’s going out on his own instead of having to be herded. He even remembers to groan something about “…prac-tice…for…Games”, just like the Helmsman coached him to, and R almost thinks that’s a mistake when his Escort’s face lights up. He made her day. She almost looks like she wants to drop everything, come along as if she knows how to tie nooses any better than he does. Luckily she settles for waving him good luck, so pleased she’d radiate sunshine if she could.
He lurches off before she changes her mind.
R’s mission is a multi-stage attack:
1). Find someone, anyone with a pulse.
2). Grill them on romance.
3). Hoard the advice.
4). …He’s still working on the next step. R’s lucky he got this far, to be totally honest.
For now R roams, a tall swaying zombie with a muzzle and a bad habit bumping his way into friends and strangers and wrangling them into his quest.
What| R takes it upon himself to ask for dating advice from whoever he bumps into (sometimes literally). This can be from advice to how to be the most romantic Romeo ever to the downright awful. To make intros easier, we can handwave R introducing himself and assume he’s already corraled them into this if you like.
Where|| Around the Training Center, the Tribute Tower, and the Speakeasy. Possibly the park.
When| | Before the Victor Crowning
Warnings/Notes|| Nothing so far.
R’s on a mission to acquire intel for How to Date; Revised for Zombies.
Oh, and for scrawny little guys like Howard. Although if you asked him, personally R believes Howard’s already got one step in the door just because he’s got a working heart. Don’t tell Howard he thought that.
The point is R’s motivated. It’s almost unicorn rare to know what he wants and how to get it. Motivation doesn’t come easy to zombies, R feeling the strain raking its claws across his brain folds as he takes his first stumbling step into today. His Escort turns to stare while she primps her hair, surprised that he’s going out on his own instead of having to be herded. He even remembers to groan something about “…prac-tice…for…Games”, just like the Helmsman coached him to, and R almost thinks that’s a mistake when his Escort’s face lights up. He made her day. She almost looks like she wants to drop everything, come along as if she knows how to tie nooses any better than he does. Luckily she settles for waving him good luck, so pleased she’d radiate sunshine if she could.
He lurches off before she changes her mind.
R’s mission is a multi-stage attack:
1). Find someone, anyone with a pulse.
2). Grill them on romance.
3). Hoard the advice.
4). …He’s still working on the next step. R’s lucky he got this far, to be totally honest.
For now R roams, a tall swaying zombie with a muzzle and a bad habit bumping his way into friends and strangers and wrangling them into his quest.
no subject
"Of course!" he chirps. "Of course I'll help you! I mean ... ah. Do you think we could arrange to sneak off to some of the fashion boutiques? Without Stylists supervising? My one does have excellent taste, but ... ah. My style wouldn't suit you, I don't think."
For one thing, you're dead and we should downplay that, he thinks but wisely does not say. He doesn't want to insult R at all, which is a somewhat new feeling for him. It's been a while since he sincerely felt so friendly towards someone. Figures that it'd be a corpse.
Think this could be a good stopping place?
"Could...try. I trust...your judg - ju..." R trails off. Damn. He tries again, setting his bar lower, forcing his blackened mouth to form carefully around each consonant and vowel. "I trust you."
There we go. Even got it out without pausing. R's proud of himself. For a second there he thinks he sounded almost normal. The important thing is he's in good hands and he could show Julie that he's capable of branching out, being anything aside from the same old Dead boy in the same old hoodie. Without asking, R reaches out and lays his hand on Jay's wrist, copying what he saw him do earlier. He wants to say thanks, that hopefully with Jay's help he'll learn about good impressions and what it means to finally be able to come clean with Julie. The words are rattling around in his skull as he searches Jay's face, meeting those bright blue-green eyes of his, trying to bridge that gap between his brain and his mouth.
R grunts awkwardly. He pats away probably longer than he should and then pulls his cold hand back, staring at his lap. Maybe another time? Seems like something he'd need to work at, if he wanted to get it out the right way. He thinks Jay would understand.
sure! sorry for the wait between tags
"I'm glad!" he says. "Believe me, darling, I'll make sure your trust is deserved. I shall see you later, then, yes?"
Jay's truly besides himself with joy. It seems he made a friend. A peculiar friend, yes, but hell, he's not exactly commonplace himself.
Maybe life in the Capitol could be made tolerable, after all.