semi-open

[riastraid]

CHARACTERS: lancer, friends, and some open things
DATE: more or less current
WARNINGS: the usual kinda-zombie stuff! hanger, violence, possibly gore
SUMMARY: soulsucking vampirism and zombie appetites go together poorly, who knew

[ prompts to be added in comments, let me know if you want anything in particular! ]

Comments

[prodigism]

[ He isn't victim blaming at all! But he does notice the others appearance but his own expression doesn't change very much. ]

Getting supplies for those who can't go out themselves. [ People who aren't used to combat and all that jazz needed food too. ]

They aren't a problem.

[riastraid]

[ Lancer scoffs, though there's no bite to it. Restless anger makes a guy irritable sometimes, who knew. ]

Oooh, someone's confident.

[ Though, speaking of food—he looks somewhat bleakly at his bag of chips, then leans back against the nearest wall with a sigh. ]

Helping puppies one week, feedin' the poor—how very altruistic. [ He rolls up the bag, passing it towards Arima to take. Not that it'd feed much of anyone, but beggars can't be choosers these days. ]

[prodigism]

[ Don't worry Lancer. He's seen and heard that scoff many a time in his life back home. A 19 year old taking down an indomitable foe with nothing but two rookie weapons was the end of that though. ]

If you don't have confidence in your abilities how are you to survive something like this?

[ It's not exactly confidence but just knowing his limits and working with them to gain the best possible results. He does blink, almost with a confused look, at the bag offered to him. ]

What of yourself?

[riastraid]

...Yeah, fair.

[ Sarcasm or otherwise, guy had a point. No one should be out around these parts without knowing how to handle themselves anymore—infected or otherwise. In that sense, he's fine, shrugging. ]

I don't need food. Don't worry, that's not me being cute—I really don't. [ He's hungry, sure, but... objectively speaking. Part of him is happy enough knowing that he can still think rationally enough to say that much, though not without effort. The urge to snap back on his offer is stronger than it ought to be. ] We got plenty of other mouths to feed.

[prodigism]

[ He doesn't need food? Arima's eyes narrow at that, but he won't judge or question it. There were many different people here after all, some inhuman, and others not. ]

If you're certain, then your contribution is appreciated. I'm sure the others will be thankful for it.

[ Arima's just doing his job of scavenging what he can, so the extra help is always welcome. ]

[riastraid]

They should be. I'm a modern-day saint.

[ Said as flat as old soda. He leaves the Bountiful Harvest of chips for Arima to take, busying himself with the rest of the storage space again, not-so-gently toeing the top of a nearby crate off. The clatter echoes out much too loud in the near-empty space, not an employee to be seen. Lancer doesn't leave time for the silence to fill in again, piping up. ]

—Say. [ He doesn't pause before he rifles through the extra wares (napkins, plastic utensils...), trying to split his thoughts in any direction that isn't food. Easier said than done, but, ] You been around long? This ain't your first [ What's the term... ] rodeo, is it?

[ Their team's small enough that he recognizes people in passing, but he doesn't have tabs on everyone and their moms. ]

[prodigism]

[ Arima will watch him as he continues, he's silent all the while. Sorry Lancer, he's not a big talker this one. But he will finally answer when that question is sent his way. ]

That's correct. Though I'm still relatively new here among others. I've been only been on one mission prior to this. Boneyard Junction.