Rappel du premier message :

CONTRAT DE NOT'RP !

- Statut du RP : privé i guess ? :d
- Tour de jeu : //
- Délai maximum d'attente de réponse : hmm, deux semaines ?
- Autre : yes.

Don't you hate it when you wake up and end up not knowing where you are ?
I don’t. It’s one of my favorite pure bliss moment, actually ; you basically forget about everything that's a big deal. Like the fact that you are in a zombie apocalypse. Shit I remember that. Great, now it’s ruined.

… I still have no clue about this place though. No clue at all.

Although it does look like a living room, and an old-fashioned one that is ; chimney made of visible bricks, velvet curtains (there's a dusty beam of light passing throught, so I assume It’s morning – at least I know when I am) ; and a gloomy decoration (weird-ass looking portraits and two skulls in the shelves) ; did I mention the number of books in here ? No I didn’t because it would take a while to count them.

I left the bearskin carpet (where I was sitting) to get close to the shelves, I reached for one random book aaand… it was gibberish. I tried my luck with two more but they were also written in a foreign language. When I went to take a look out the window, the sight was poor as fuck. Only grass, that’s it. I couldn’t open the window, and I’m not dumb enough to break it, the smash could wake up the deads.

It was clearly a home, or maybe a mansion ; he’d have to explore it to know for sure.

I'm usually slow at waking up but, I’m little too conscious at this point to not remember anything related to this location and…an–

And he sneezed really loud. It was really dusty in here.

" Oooh. Right. Of course. That explains everything-" Should I stop trying to sound clever? Yes, I should, especially with that scary face of his. But you probably know me by now, don't you. " So next, you're gonna tell me that it's haunted ? Please tell me it is, that would lift a big burden from my mind. "

HRP:

My arm? Haunted? Now that was a strange theory. No. Um... like a glitch. Bad programming. Wiring. S'm'thing. Summat. Did not have that much of a technical brain. Not an engineer. Know engines, parts of it ; the basics. Not enough. Black market bought 'n all. Waz a bad idea, eh... My nervous laughter sounds more like choking on spit.

HRP:

Not that it is impossible, I just find it too easy as an excuse. Too easy and stupid to cost me a broken nose. I scratch my head, hesitating to believe him. "So it's the only thing that is wrong with you? Just your arm?" Yeah, I'm being mean. Maybe now I deserve that slap. Worth it. Bought me some time, he isn't focused on the game anymore.

Um... Probably more things. Stuttering. No backbone. My face. Brain. The mess that is my living space. Social contacts. Money situation. Eye. Prob'ly summat with my foot too. It's aching. And sometimes my back hurts. Deep, in my spine. Feels like it'll split at any second. Get bad bad cramps. Think I'm dying each time but it passes after a minute of agony. Pro'ly not. Pro'ly more.

K. Good luck. I waved slightly (with my good arm). If he screams, I'll go. Don't want him to get a heart attack or anything. It's just a dare.

While I was upstairs staring at the floor, something else dwelt in the house. It seemed to have it out for poor Serah. Perhaps he had done something to offend it. Or perhaps he just had that type of face that begged "bully me". Whatever it was that attracted this creature to the young man, he must have deserved it. It stalked him, crawling behind him in the shadows. It was that thing that you feel creeping in the dark over your shoulder — but every time you turn around, it's gone.

HRP:

Useless. There's nothing more useless than fighting a foe that you can't see. A foe that you can only feel. Whether it was in his head or whether it was really out there was still a question. One that would probably remain unanswered. Serah? A low voice whispered in the dark. Serah.

I calmed down but i'm out of breath. I don't know if all this masquerade quieted my mind, but it quieted my big mouth for sure. I'm even more exhausted now, with a side stitch. 
Something is calling me. 
I'm not responding. I'm not hearing anything. Go away.  He crouched down, his hands against his ears. The earplugs were useless after all.

Reality is mixing itself with the spectral hallucinations. That voice which calls Serah's name starts becoming more and more real and less "in his head". Also lower, raspier and... familiar.

Um... Serah? He's been downstairs for 15 minutes. I was worried. Now that I see him there on the floor with his hands against his ears, I feel sorry. It was just a stupid dare. Should've asked him to dance or something. You ok? I poke his shoulder with my metallic finger.

Felt something. Gave a quick stroke with my forearm towards the touch. Holy shit I kicked something. I distanced myself rapidly. Is. Is that Riot? That's his figure. "The fuck you were thinking giving me a fright like that?!" Oh fuckohfuckohfuck. Hope he didn't see me dancing like a fool with my demons. Because that was something to laugh at for at least three weeks. I'm feeling my face coming back to life (but it's dark). Still out of breath, but holy fuck I've never been so relieved to see his face.

Sorry... Didn't mean to scare him. Thought I was helping by signaling my presence. Thought jumping in front of him would scare him more. Was wrong, again. I don't say anything else, staring at the figure in the dark, waiting for him to say something first.

I lean against the kitchen counter and massage my neck awkwardly. "Since when are you here?..." I pretend to look for mc'n cheese, reopening the same compartments as before, I know there's nothing in ... AND IT WAS HERE?! Did I somewhat miss it ? "... three cans of food right here. Best news of the evening." My voice is washed out.

5 minutes maybe. I know he's pretending to be ok — recognizable behavior — so I pretend not to notice how freaked out he is. Was. He's looked crazier than just now anyway. Oh, you hungry too? If food was good news, that means they'd maybe get to eat soon. If the stove works, that is.

So he saw me ? I'll give a fuck about it later, now I'm "Starvin'." I managed to open one can skillfully with my knife, "Green peas." He didn't even dare to consider the stove. Strangely, he felt that someone or something was taking a gleeful delight at crushing all his expectations with no exception. Or maybe he was just too hungry to wait for his food to heat up. It's edible. Almost anything can be when you're this hungry.

Ew green peas. Nevermind what I said earlier about canned foods being my favorite. This is not the kind I usually stock. ... that all there is? Really? Nothing else? My sad face emerges. Why'd I spill all the mac'n'cheese. I really wanted it.

My mouth is full (and not full of shit for once), I don't respond him right away ; "'don't know, see for yourself." I take a look anyway at near light "Lentils and.... Corn." I take them and I head for the exit - waiting for him this time, for the night is still dark and full of terrors "Let's eat upstairs."

HRP:

I sadly grab the can of corn. You can hardly call this a sustaining meal. Still, if this is all there is... My mind briefly wanders back to the mac'n'cheese stained shower curtain. It should still be in that— but no. I shake the thought away. There's a limit to how gross you can be. (Or is there...?) Ok. I follow Serah again, as faithful as a shadow.

HRP:

I keep eating while walking up the stairs (I also remove my useless earplug by the way). I happened to glance at the catdoor when passing by it. And it was closed. Figures.

Once in the bedroom again, you went to crash on the bed so you can finish your meal silently. Your mind was as much quiet; so quiet that writing in first person wasn't adequate for you anymore. You poor fucker, the evening was hectic enough, even for a loudmind like yours.

Um. Should probably let him rest, sleep, in silence. Serah needs some peace of mind. Tomorrow will be better, I'm sure of it. Sunlight does that to you. We could leave this house as well. Try to get home. Even get him a doctor.

Not that I would ever disturb him. Bothered him 'nough already. I sit my ass down in a corner of the room, opening my sad can of corn as carefully as I can manage with robotic arm pressure. My last meal — well, current last meal — tastes like despair. I don't feel desperate, not me. Just confused. I'll stay awake for a while. Guard over the room. Don't know why I feel like I should. Instinct maybe? I'll sleep later.

HRP:

Ellipse.
Don't you hate it when you wake up and end up not knowing where you are ? I don't. It's one of my--OHSHIT. "WH--" I got up so quickly that I fall on the floor ; holy shit his face scared me. I totally forgot. And I didn't want to remember everything that fast goddamn it...
I'm on my back, but half of my body is still on the bed. I'm contemplating my life and the spider on the ceiling, don't mind me.