(Untitled)

[sanctuscide]

clomp, clomp, clomp

Theodore follows in on the wake of boss Rydell, turns to the right of the door and keeps his back to the wall, watching folks with a friendly-like smile on his face. See, real friendly. But really fucking cautious too.

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[bodyisapainting]

Kay tucks the red wristband under her shirt cuff. Tries for a friendly smile.

"Hey," real friendly. For someone who she remembers the what and the where, but not the name.

[sanctuscide]

"Hey there. How's your business been?" He just doesn't move from where he is and it's good thing that that red wristlet is outta sight. If he had seen it, he would automatically be thinking cattle. And well, don't want mad cow disease to spread.

[bodyisapainting]

She knows, she remembers the feeling of utter terror, worse than with vamps or zombies (though not worse than with 'wolves).

"Good, good. "Do a lot of work at the shelter. Not well, work, but the side jobs make sure my rent is low."

[sanctuscide]

"Good to hear that it's working out for you." He takes a look around, smiles, although the concern is there in those brown eyes of his so that when he asks, "Do you feel safe?" He means it.

[bodyisapainting]

"Well, a hell of a lot safer than when the zombies were running around."

She pretends to look over her shoulder.

"You know how fucking frightening shambles are."

[sanctuscide]

"Don't I ever." Serious. Dead serious. "You feel any safer at the shelters? Fending for yourself when you're not in one? Do you have anyone for support if something goes sour?"

[bodyisapainting]

"At the shelter?" Kay's grin falls, just a bit.

"You think something going to happen at the shelter," there's a slight pause, where she'd usually have a name, but he was one of a bunch of people. "I mean, you have anything solid?"

Fear, nerves, these things can hide when you're there with other people but after the fire...

[sanctuscide]

"You can't garantee your own personal safety, even at one of the shelters, can you? All it takes is one starving rogue vampire. Or a rabid wolf. Or a match. . ." He shrugs with a frown.

[bodyisapainting]

"Yes. I can." She remembers what it's like to face off against a rabid wolf. Fear of wolves taste like blood. They taste like her tongue bitten through.

"Shelters are the best I get."