(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.

Comments

[localhandywolf]

Lightly,

"We only bite if you are a zombie."

[sanctuscide]

"Ain't a zombie, so I'm guessing that solves that little problem up, don't it?" His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles so. He offers his hand out, "Theodore Reed."

[localhandywolf]

Armand swings his feet off the table and stands up, shaking Theodore's hand. His own is rough from work, but he had those callouses long before...well, before.

"Armand Rousseau, welcome to the Wasteland."

[sanctuscide]

It's a good handshake, and you can tell a lot from one. First impressions. Theodore stopped trusting his first impression when Susan turned into a dog and tried to tear off his face. His smile turns warm. "Thanks for the welcome, Armand. Sounds like someone's keen on their poetry, huh?"

A look around. "Damn impressive. Who runs this place?"

[bass_line_blues]

Preston glances up.

New people get nervy, first time they enter. It's not unusual to see someone trusting to a wall to watch their back.

He offers a friendly smile back.

[sanctuscide]

Theodore never laughs a full-out laugh, it's a subdued sort of, "Heh. It's that obvious, isn't it? Hell, I might as well have it written across my forehead." Purist. Cult follower. "Fresh meat." With good humor. "Call me Theo. Theodore Reed."

[bass_line_blues]

"Preston," says Preston, and offers a hand to shake.

It's an ordinary-looking hand. With slightly hairy knuckles, but nothing that screams different.

"Vasquez. Unless you have 'fresh booze' written across your forehead too, you're probably pretty safe around here."

[sanctuscide]

Theodore's hand is held out and the pleasantries are exchanged.

Another laugh. "Ha! Shit. Fresh alcohol. What I wouldn't give. . ."

[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.