[And as promised, in thirty minutes Cora will be sitting under a tree in the park that's a bit away from the road so they have some privacy, but not like they're trying to hide. Her eyes scan the sidewalk periodically, looking for the person she's trying to meet.]
[Kieren arrives not much later, holding a sketchpad under one arm, a small pencil case in his hand. With his free hand he waves, walking a bit quicker, making his limp more pronounced.]
[Being the first undead she's ever met, she was slightly worried about what the scent situation was going to be, but she's pleasantly relieved that Kieren doesn't smell overwhelmingly dead, and more like a graveyard than a battle field.
[He smiles back, something soft and warm. Cora has something about her that reminds him of his sister, already.
Sitting down, he puts the supplies to the side of him for a moment, pulling his knees up to his chest as he settles in.]
Since I was young, really. I do portraits, mostly...was supposed to go to uni for it but...[He shrugs.] Death sort of got in the way. Didn't know if I was good enough for that, anyways. But I'm getting more confident in my own work. Friend thinks I should maybe try selling some of my art here.
[He shrugs again; he doesn't talk about himself that much, but he's trying to own his art more, these days.]
What about you? Do you have a hobby--something you enjoy?
[Does "surviving against all odds" count? Probably not. It takes her a second to think back, to remember what she used to like before the fire and everything changed.]
I used to play soccer. And I really liked science? But it's been a while since I've really dug into either. Life sort of got in the way.
[Which she should not be saying because she's all of eighteen, but it doesn't make it any less true.]
It does, doesn't it? I was right shite at most sports, [Got him made fun of, among other things] but I liked watching it.
I bet being a werewolf helped with sports though--I mean, would it? [He laughs a little, bright and quick.] I really don't know anything about werewolves besides fictional things. So I guess we're on equal footing on the non-human thing we are.
It did, a little. We're faster and stronger and more agile. But it's riskier too - shifting between human and wolf is tied to our heart rate, and if it goes up too much our body recognizes it as part of our fight or flight response.
[So basically if they weren't careful, they could definite wolf out in the middle of the game.]
But that's a lot of why we did sports - because it gave us a practical way to learn control on non-full moon nights.
Stop me if I ask too many questions. How about you ask me questions too? That way we learn together. Though it sounds like you all might understand your situation better than we do.
Are all of you werewolves? Or are there humans, too?
[It sounds good, in a way, to have such a good structure. Not that he would wish this undead thing on anyone, despite Simon's whole...'idea' that they were better than others.]
Almost six years now. I was 18 when I died, and then I rose about six months after. I wasn't like I am now, though, for all of it.
Yeah. Not--not completely like the movies, we definitely could reason, and think, but on a base level. Everything was about [A shrug, tugging at a piece of grass.] eating. I mostly remember hunger.
Yeah. Like, if their mom was a wolf, but their dad was human, it's a fifty-fifty shot they'll be human too.
[It's not common, but it happens. She frowns at what she describes though.]
Full moons are kind of like that. If you lose control, all you want to do is hunt and kill. Nothing else matters. Any ... higher thinking is funneled into that objective.
Is there anything you guys can do to fight that--the losing control?
We take medication, but it took everything in me to fight it when I was forced to go 'rabid' as we call it. But I don't know if I was able to fight it because it was brought on by the thing that was given to me, instead of naturally, or if I really was able to fight it.
We seem to recognize people--our family so... [He trails off.]
Maybe everyone could fight through it, given the chance.
I wonder if that would work for us. I mean--we're obviously not the same. [He doesn't want to offend her by implying that, but still.] But the medication we take, it builds synapses back in our brains...focusing could hone that, in a relapse.
[She's not saying it's outside the realm of possibilities, but at the same time she doesn't know much about zombies.]
Maybe if you practice it in combination with the medicine it'll make it easier to stay in control. It's just a matter of ... drowning out the hunger with something stronger.
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Okay, full disclosure, you're my first zombie/undead. I mean, there are undead but they're mostly ... myths.
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[She doesn't need to have food to talk to him, and it seems weird to eat in front of someone who can't.]
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This is me.
[Since they've just been talking by text so far.]
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me.
So like park in 30?
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[And as promised, in thirty minutes Cora will be sitting under a tree in the park that's a bit away from the road so they have some privacy, but not like they're trying to hide. Her eyes scan the sidewalk periodically, looking for the person she's trying to meet.]
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Cora?
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That's me.
[Being the first undead she's ever met, she was slightly worried about what the scent situation was going to be, but she's pleasantly relieved that Kieren doesn't smell overwhelmingly dead, and more like a graveyard than a battle field.
She inches over and gives him room to sit.]
How long have you been drawing?
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Sitting down, he puts the supplies to the side of him for a moment, pulling his knees up to his chest as he settles in.]
Since I was young, really. I do portraits, mostly...was supposed to go to uni for it but...[He shrugs.] Death sort of got in the way. Didn't know if I was good enough for that, anyways. But I'm getting more confident in my own work. Friend thinks I should maybe try selling some of my art here.
[He shrugs again; he doesn't talk about himself that much, but he's trying to own his art more, these days.]
What about you? Do you have a hobby--something you enjoy?
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I used to play soccer. And I really liked science? But it's been a while since I've really dug into either. Life sort of got in the way.
[Which she should not be saying because she's all of eighteen, but it doesn't make it any less true.]
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I bet being a werewolf helped with sports though--I mean, would it? [He laughs a little, bright and quick.] I really don't know anything about werewolves besides fictional things. So I guess we're on equal footing on the non-human thing we are.
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[So basically if they weren't careful, they could definite wolf out in the middle of the game.]
But that's a lot of why we did sports - because it gave us a practical way to learn control on non-full moon nights.
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[He puts a hand up, giving a sheepish smile.]
Stop me if I ask too many questions. How about you ask me questions too? That way we learn together. Though it sounds like you all might understand your situation better than we do.
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[She gives a small smile.]
My mom was the alpha, and our family had been a powerful pack for a long time.
[Until one Argent managed to burn it all to the ground. But she's not here to talk about that.]
How long have you been ... undead?
[She tried to be delicate about it, but Cora's usually at her best when she's blunt.]
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[It sounds good, in a way, to have such a good structure. Not that he would wish this undead thing on anyone, despite Simon's whole...'idea' that they were better than others.]
Almost six years now. I was 18 when I died, and then I rose about six months after. I wasn't like I am now, though, for all of it.
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[She nods a bit, because that sounds rough, especially happening to someone so young.]
Was it anything like the movies? Like ... shambling and ...
[She waves her hand in front of her face.]
Nobody home?
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[He nods.]
Yeah. Not--not completely like the movies, we definitely could reason, and think, but on a base level. Everything was about [A shrug, tugging at a piece of grass.] eating. I mostly remember hunger.
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Yeah. Like, if their mom was a wolf, but their dad was human, it's a fifty-fifty shot they'll be human too.
[It's not common, but it happens. She frowns at what she describes though.]
Full moons are kind of like that. If you lose control, all you want to do is hunt and kill. Nothing else matters. Any ... higher thinking is funneled into that objective.
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We take medication, but it took everything in me to fight it when I was forced to go 'rabid' as we call it. But I don't know if I was able to fight it because it was brought on by the thing that was given to me, instead of naturally, or if I really was able to fight it.
We seem to recognize people--our family so... [He trails off.]
Maybe everyone could fight through it, given the chance.
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[Which is appropriate enough, really.]
Something that we focus on in order to link us to our humanity. It could be a person, or an emotion? My brother uses anger. I usually use my mom.
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Not that I want to test it out, though.
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[She's not saying it's outside the realm of possibilities, but at the same time she doesn't know much about zombies.]
Maybe if you practice it in combination with the medicine it'll make it easier to stay in control. It's just a matter of ... drowning out the hunger with something stronger.
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