Stuck. Again? [Grey]

[Jesse Fforde]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--


<Grey> Grey had been able to slump against the corner of the building's kitchen area. She was sitting between a wall and a lower cabinetry area. She had her knees up and her elbows resting on them. It had been an eventful evening. From work, to being curious about the sewers that Jesse had explained to her, to meeting Micah by chance and then finding out what she was strong enough to kill. Her anger with the fact that she had gotten turned around in the sewers and went to ask the wrong kind of person for help was her own mistake. And Grey rarely asked anyone for help. It just so happened that the very person she had seen passing in the sewers had been Micah.

As in, the Micah of the Andras family she had recently joined with Jesse. Jesse. She took a deep breath, even as it was unneeded. Blood had dried on her arms now. She wore her favorite pair of denim jeans - not designer, nothing fancy... A T-shirt that was once a light blue color, and her pair of steel toed boots. She was thankful for the boots, because if she had changed into the pair of flip flops she was tempted to at work that meant her feet would have been bare by now. Blood. Dried blood. H e r blood. Zombie blood. Feral zombie blood. She had experienced a lot that night and seemed a little shocked. It took her a long time, just sitting there in that corner away from the other ... vampires in the building, to try to come to terms with the fact that she just slaughtered mindless creatures to increase that strength.

Now. Now she wanted to go home. Before, she barely had enough energy to pull out her phone. She must have dozed off a bit. Her head had been crushed by the feral beast and then she took her anger out on the ones that did a lot of shuffling. A lick of her lower lip, Grey tapped her thumb to the touchscreen phone and waited. Her hair was matted down, smeared with unmentionables and she could finally feel the bullet holes in her face and jaw were gone. Gone. The flesh had healed and she could now move her mouth without it hurting. So, she waited, clutching the phone in her hand tighter.


<Jesse Fforde> The last few days had been busy for Jesse. He had met Strix, and had hung out with Axel and with Phoenix. And, in meeting Strix, had gotten himself a job. A design – a rather large one, and an intricate one to boot. Not only that, but there’d been the competition with Andras to kill as many Paladins as possible. That now over, he dedicated more of his time to his drawing, and to his work at the tattoo shop. Micah and Velveteen are lenient bosses. Jesse can come and go as he pleases – but he does like to put in the hours. He enjoys his job. It’s more of a hobby that he gets paid for, rather than a job.

There was also the idea that he’d like to help Grey out a little. Would like to be able to enact a ritual from a distance, so that she would not be required to feed as often; would not be required to go out in the city and perhaps make a mess of things. Besides that, he does want this transition into immortality to be easy for her. So why not make it that tiny bit easier to stay full? In order to do said rituals, however, he needs the ingredients. Although he had been able to snavel a few from Micah and Velveteen, he still wants and needs more. More for himself. And more to pay Micah back, should he need to be paid back. And thus, Jesse had found himself in the Hunting Grounds, slaughtering bears for their fangs.

That’s where he is when his phone buzzes in his pocket; he is out in the wilderness, and the buzzing seems completely out of place. He’d lost himself to the hunt, almost believed himself one of the creatures haunting the undergrowth. He clears his throat before answering. He can see who it is – a picture of her comes up when she calls. A picture he’d taken while she was sleeping. “Little dove,” he greets, voice more husky than usual due to disuse.


<Grey> Sticky. She was sticky everywhere. Her clothes seemed to be matted down to her flesh. Dried blood never felt good, especially when half of it was your own. She was thirsty. But everyone here was of the dead kind that she could gather. There were no humans milling around this place. Some of Flats, Micah had called it. Grey was not familiar with this part of the city. No, a Zone. That's what it was, wasn't it? She tried to argue with herself as the ringer in her ear continued. She brought a dirty hand up to try to shove some of the matted hair behind her ear, but it just wouldn't stick. No doubt this was not quite how she wanted to make her regal appearance into the night world - coated in zombie slime and muck. "Jesse." Her voice was quiet, a whisper of his name. Though there was no shaking noted, she certainly tried to keep this conversation private with all the eagle ears in the room. And it was a room, where she really wasn't sure what to do in besides slay more zombies.

"I... I need your help. I don't really know how to get out of where I am." She didn't know if it was a good thing to leave the building she was in. Or if it was a building. Or if it wasn't some kind of underground extension of the sewers. It was beautifully furnished, and the bones of the zombies seemed to just peel away and disintegrate into nothing once they had been dealt the final blow. She kept her gun behind her back and her fingers now tried to busy themselves with cleaning as much as possible underneath her nail beds. It was a mechanic's habit.

"Please. There are a lot of people here I don't know. And... I want to go home." She said it, as if she had to explain herself to him. Even though she knew she didn't have to, she grimaced. She wanted him. She needed to see him. But above all, she felt so ... dirty. "I need a shower." She breathed into the phone, waiting for his reply.


<Jesse Fforde> Those words, I need your help, had once had the ability to inspire the worst kind of anxious fear in Jesse. Yes, he is a little concerned now, but not as much as he might once have been. Grey is no longer as fragile as she used to be. She is not a human who can die due to a recalcitrant clot in her heart - or a bullet, for that matter. She doesn't sound desperate, and so Jesse relaxes. He clears his throat again and turns, facing the lights of the city, the glow, meandering out into the wilderness from the distance. He swaps the phone from ear to the other.

"You're going to have to tell me a little more, lover," he says. "I can find you. But I need a ritual table. And I don't have one. Are you in a building? What's it called?" he asks, narrowing his eyes as if he'd be able to see her through all the trees and all the other buildings. Narrow in on her just by thinking about her. But of course he can't. And so he waits for her answer.


<Grey> "I'm in a building. It's called... something Flats? Micah was so quick to say its name, I barely caught it." That, and she was so angry and hurting she would go anywhere to take out her irritation. The man had instructed her that she was better off killing the things in the Quarantine Zone and not in the sewers. She hadn't intended to kill that person in the sewers, really. They sort of gave her an evil look first and she was just defending herself. It so happened, she got away when she had taken enough bullets to her face and happened into Micah. "It is really nicely furnished. It has these other people... Like us in it."

She didn't know how much more Jesse needed to know. She wasn't really sure what else she could tell him without going outside. She had enough strength now that she felt she could stand. She started to shift and push one leg underneath her. "I can go outside. There's an exit right here almost next to this... Kitchen like area. But it has lots of seating room, an office-like area, an ATM machine..." She hoped something of this would help Jesse determine where she is.


<Jesse Fforde> Flats.The first thing to came to mind was Corvidae, but the city was large. Not too large, but not small either. There could be plenty of 'flats' around. Other vampires - kind of cemented the idea that she was in the Quarantine Zone. Jesse pushes himself away from the three he'd been leaning against. He holstered his gun, slowly. Silence permeated his end of the phone, as a frown furrowed his brow. He pushes his hand into the pocket of his jeans. "You met Micah?" he asks. He's glad that Grey has met Micah. But how does she not know where she is? He shakes his head. He can get the story when he finds her. "Are there zombies?" he asks. The answer to that question will let him know where to go next.


<Grey> "I did. He is a very nice man. He helped me out of the sewers. I got turned around and had asked for directions. It was a mess, Jesse." She murmured into the phone, standing now. She tested her left leg, the one with the bullet hole that had gushed a bit of blood with each step she took earlier. She should of went for the flip flops, but the boots were better for walking. Never, did she think that she'd have ended up in the sewers that night.

"Right, there are quite a few of them." She answered his question about the zombies. She would have left the corner, but took perhaps a moment to herself. She closed her eyes. She tried to digest that she was actually talking about zombies to her lover. To the man that had changed her. To the man that she had immersed herself within his world to be with him. It had been a change. A huge change. And in a way, she felt like a lost child. "Did you want me to go outside or?" She asked, sort of wandering if she should push open the exit door to see what she stepped into - literally.


<Jesse Fforde> "What did you go to the sewers for?!" he asked, the words out of his mouth before he could stop them. How was it that Grey could do that to him? Where he could normally be calm and concentrated, where normally he'd think too much before speaking. Not with Grey. Never with Grey. He huffs into the phone and rubs at his temple. It's fine. She's fine. Micah helped her out - everything's dandy. "No, it's fine. Stay where you are," he says. "You're in Corvidae flats. In the Quarantine Zone. The only way out is threw the sewers again. Or... I'll explain when I get there," he says. He doesn't wait for her answer, just hangs up and pushes his phone into his pocket. He has a messenger back slung over his shoulder that he's been shoving his loot into - from within the bag he retrieves a tank top. Is it easier to hunt shirtless, or did he like how it made him feel like Tarzan? He doesn't quite know. Doesn't matter. He hastily pulls the tank top on over his grimy torso. From the bag he then retrieves the tome back to the Eyrie.

Within seconds, he's in the spot - he's slipping into the elevator, and up to the third floor. And, on the third floor, the fadeportal straight to the abandoned shopping centre, in the Quarantine Zone. He was out in the goddamned wilderness, but still in seconds, in less than a minute, he's storming out of the shopping centre and crossing the space between, pushing through the doors of Corvidae, ignoring all the zombies and ferals on the way. Finally, he sees Grey, over in the far corner. He weaves around everyone else to get to her.


<Grey> "Well, I saw someone leaving it on the way home from work. And I was curious. I know you told me about them. But, I got turned around. And I had... an accident." She called it an accident. What else does one call a misunderstanding? She wasn't even sure what she did wrong. One moment, she was opening her mouth to ask for directions and the next minute she had a bullet in her leg and her face was shot up. Literally. Her jaw had hurt so badly she was surprised she could even manage to talk. She squirmed a bit standing there, leaning back against the counter and the support of the wall. It was like getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar when she was a child - only, there was never a cookie jar. "I'm so-" And the phone went dead. She frowned into it as she pulled it away from her ear and the tacky blood smeared across the screen. She shoved it into her pocket and barely had time to assess the damage of that simple female cut T-shirt to know it was too stained up to call it worth saving the eight dollar bargain sale cotton. "Hey." She managed to get out, looking up and seeing Jesse storm towards her. In that moment, she thought how ruthlessly handsome he was. Deadly... He had that look in his eyes and she tried to just keep that innocent smile on her blood coated face looking semi-innocent. "Thanks for coming to get me." It was the second time she asked him to come and get her. And both times she had been in trouble. Only, this time, she was healed up by the time he got to her.


<Jesse Fforde> "Grey," he says. "What am I going to do with you?" he breathes. There's blood all over her. He can tell that some of it is probably hers. But it's all mixed with the muck of zombies. His gaze drops to her feet, rises up her legs, over her torso, her breasts, to her face. He's assessing the damage, obviously. But, seeing that she is physically fine, he begins to imagine what she would look like, slaughtering those zombies. He tries not to smirk. "Didn't I tell you the sewers are bad for you?" he says, gaze hard as he keeps his hands in his pockets, resisting the urge to just pull her against him, to kiss that semi-innocent smile off her lips.


<Grey> "Jesse. You're going to love me." She smiled to him. It was a genuine smile too, not just the sly looking innocent one. Something in her eyes seemed to illuminate around him. Seeing him just made the experience all that much better. She perked up a bit around that tattooed man as he stopped in front of her. One boot was untied, the bullet hole and blood soaked lower left leg meant those denim jeans might be worth saving. Most everything else was covered in zombie muck and her blood was all over her face and matted into her hair. Her skull had been crushed. Her forehead had been dented. Dented - but now, she looked just as she had the many hours ago she rolled out of their shared bed to go to work. "And yes. You did. That is... Tell me the sewers were bad. But, I couldn't help myself. I mean, I can't be scared of them. I mean..." She was rambling. Her fingers twisted over themselves now as her eyebrows drew together. "I really should have been scared of them. That ... person was quick. So much quicker than what I even knew I had to be!" She said, her gaze sort of awestruck in that moment as the attack replayed in her head alone.


<Jesse Fforde> "Going to love you?" he asks, finally taking that ambling step forward to nestle his hips up against hers, sliding against her like one cog fitting perfectly against its mate. One hand slips around over her hip, fingers splayed over the small of her back. Fingers of the opposite hand trail across the blood splattered skin of her face, unsticking the hair from the blood. "Already love you," he says. "I'm not saying you can't. You can do what you what. One of these days, soon, you'll be as quick as they are and you'll kick their asses. And I'll watch you do it. Because it'd be ******* hot," he says with a smirk.


<Grey> "Yes, going to. Are. Do." She smiled to him as he stepped closer. She remembered just a couple days ago when he got blood all over her clean floors in the apartment and she saw to him in the shower. And then they mopped up the floors together. She smiled up at him, tilting her chin just a bit to see his face as he came to lean against her. She inhaled, loving his scent. He had been doing his own hunting, she gathered, her hands wrapping lightly around his upper arms before sliding against that tank top covered chest. "Micah said it too. To hang in there." She nodded, curling her chin so that her cheek brushed more against the man's fingers. What a pair they were. "You're hot. Walking in here. Looking so damned good. Coming to rescue me." She gave him a playful wink.


<Jesse Fforde> "I'm not rescuing you. You're perfectly fine," he says. The hand at her back slips up underneath her shirt, settling against bare skin. He cants his head to the side at the mention of Micah. He'll have to thank his cousin for his help with Grey. "Mmm? And what did you think of Micah?" he asks. "He's my cousin you know. By blood. Lucky ******* coincidence," he muses. He's aware of their surroundings, too, as he speaks; of the other vampires. Of the zombies - making sure that none amble too close.

[Grey (DELETED 5068)]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--



<Grey> "Since when don't you want to be my night in shining armor?" She teased him lightly, smiling up to him. She leaned into him, shifting her heavy boots to allow one thigh to graze his outer leg. Yes. There was nothing like flirting with the man you loved in a public place full of other vampires and zombies. "I thought he looked a little like you. I didn't know you were cousins, though. When did you find that out?" She questioned, stroking her dirty fingertips down his upper arms. If he got to touch her bare skin, then so did she! That man was edible, but she'd contain herself until they got to a more private location. "What is this place, then? Micah just said to hold still and then the next thing I know he was gone for a minute. Then, I was here. Kind of like you did to me the first time I saw Larch Court."


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse smiles. A slow, languid thing that only exemplifies the glint in his blue eyes; there's something going on behind those eyes, the cogs turning in his brain. Much to the contrary, he doesn't like being afraid for Grey's safety. He never liked having to be her knight in shining armour, as she puts it. The thing that had attracted him to her to begin with was her zest, her feist, and the strength that he knew that she had, underneath it all. In truth, he can't wait to see her independent, kicking ***, and showing him a thing or two. This woman, one day, will be able to show him who's boss. And he looks forward to it. He shrugs. "A week ago, maybe," he says, in reference to Micah. "This is the Quarantine Zone. It's where the zombies hang out. Where humans do not come - and where we come, to kill these fucks. To keep the alert level of the city down," he explains, even as he leans forward. His stubble brushes against her cheek, his breath at her ear. And when he stops talking, he kisses the line of her jaw.


<Grey> She knows that look. She knows that look that he was giving her all too well. When he had something else on his mind and he was sure to keep it a secret. At least, she enjoyed teasing him. She enjoyed the way that he had been linked with her not only before the turning, but now afterwards. Everything seemed to be amplified. She took a deep breath, holding onto it while he further explains their location. "This was where one of the vampires dragged me. And then someone else bit me and took me, right?" She remembered how upset Jesse had been that night. She looked out across the kitchen area of the building to see other vampires mingling around, going about their business. This was, in essence, their place within the city. "So the secret can be kept safe." She said finally as she felt Jesse's soft kiss. The tickle of his stubble. She raised her hands up, smoothing them over the backs of his strong shoulders while she brushed her own kiss to his cheek then. If she wasn't touching him - she wanted to. And why not fulfill that want?


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse growls. Of course she would remind him of that. She wouldn't see it, but his eyes would flash fire as he, too, glances around, over her shoulder, at all those present. It could have been any one of them. If only she could remember which one. And what would Jesse do? Would he go and give them a piece of his mind? A piece of his gun, right in their heads? He doesn't think about it. Because he won't know who it was. And nor will she. And it's in the past, now. He's got to try to forget about it. His fingers tightened against her skin, a possessive move, tugging her closer, tighter. And there is it, that protective urge to keep her safe. He can't forget the way he found her, then. He is certain is enough of an answer for her. He needs to change the subject. "How did you go? Did you like it? Killing the zombies?" he asks, pulling back so that he can gauge her reaction by her expression.


<Grey> To curl into him, to fit into his protective arms - Grey never denied him that. His growl vibrated against his chest and in that moment, despite the muck that clung to her skin, she wrapped her arms around him. Her scent was underneath the zombie's guts, blood of her own spilling into the air around them when her clumped hair moved or her foot stomped in that boot. There was a roll of a shrug, typical for Grey's uncertainty in regards to pulling the trigger against those brainless beasts. "It went well. I killed a few. Then I got tired. I had to sit down. I think I fell asleep for a little bit. No one tried anything, though." That is, undead creature or undead creature alike. She seemed to look a little unsure of herself, but that didn't last too long. No, then the irritation came back to her face. "This stuff ever going to come out? I guess I have some laundry to do when we get home." Her pout - it was cute as she had reached down to pluck at her soiled shirt's hem.


<Jesse Fforde> The irritation is adorable, the way it steals over her features all because of some ruined clothes. "It might. Does it matter? They're just clothes," he says. His own tank is clean, regardless of the blood spattered over his skin, under his nails - he'd dug those fangs out and those pelts off those bears with his own hands. His jeans, too, were ruined. But he doesn't care. "We don't need clothes when we get home," he says. Yes, he'll teach her how, when going out specifically to hunt, she ought to wear something she doesn't care about. But for now, he prefers to grin in that mischievous, suggestive way. To finally press his lips to hers, blood or no. To have his tongue slip past her lips, fingers reaching up to splay over cheek, his thumb caressing the lobe of her ear.


<Grey> "Well. Of course it matters! I would have worn something already stained up. I took a shower at work. I wasn't planning on needing another one." She lifted her hands once again to his tank top and let her fingers fan out over his chest. He was wonderfully reassuring, even if it was in a purely devious manner in which she loved; naked at home was certainly something she was used to. "No clothes, maybe. But I do need a shower. So do you." She eyed up his splattered skin. Somehow, when he came home dirty and smeared she felt this kick within her pelvis. The attraction certainly never failed. She smiled to him, tilting her chin to take his lips in turn. Her mouth opened, lips parting to swipe her own tongue against that talented muscle of his.


<Jesse Fforde> When Jesse pulls away it's with a tsk, an ungluing of his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "Hey, now. Who was the one who thought a nice stroll through the sewers'd be nice?" he says. "I never liked this, anyway," he says, tugging at the dirty shirt that Grey wears, the one that she is complaining about. He glances up; he almost wishes they have an apartment here, in Corvidae. It would make it so much easier to get home. He's left his motorbike at the Eyrie. He knows a very quick way to get back to Veil Tower, but he can't take Grey with him. They'll just have to walk. He slides his hand down Grey's arm, slips his fingers through hers. He steps back, tugging her along with him. It's time to go home, with the threat of a shower hanging over his head.


<Grey> "Well. There was nothing wrong with a stroll through the sewers until I got turned around. It isn't my fault I didn't have a map of this city in my back pocket." She honestly didn't think about trying to pull one up on her phone, but the reception under ground wasn't the best. She gave Jesse a fruitful look, with an arch of that dirty brow and everything. He tasted good. He tasted like her man. She wanted him. There was a narrowing of her eyes and the pull that he had on her certainly had her wanting him even more since the kiss. Something was running through her veins and she did her best to be polite in public. "What do you mean you don't like it? I have these shirts in every color!" Exasperated, she gave a huff as she felt his tug and fell into step along side him.. She stayed close, not because she was afraid, but because she just didn't know where the hell she was.


<Jesse Fforde> That has Jesse frowning. All the teasing, everything, and those words have him frowning. "Yeah, that's my fault," he says. Jesse has access to a map. Had he given it to her? He should have. And it's his own fault, if it slipped his mind. He could blame her, the minx, and her distracting ways, but he doesn't. "I was kidding," he says, concerning the shirts, though every hint of teasing has left his tone. His fingers curl a little tighter and he falls into step just ahead of Grey, leading her out of Corvidae, avoiding any interacting with the bumbling beasts around about. A couple of blocks over, there'd be a manhole, into the sewers. And that's where he'll take her.


<Grey> "It isn't your fault. It's my stupid fault for going down there in the first place. I let my curiosity get the best of me. I knew better." And that, she did. As they walked, she purposely would brush into his hip. She'd nudge his side with her elbow. She'd keep her fingers tight in his. She squeezed those digits together that he had. Even she took a moment to fully assess the man since he was a step head. She looked at that satchel, seeing it bulge a bit. And of course, she'd sneak a peek at his *** too. And there was certainly nothing wrong with that. She weaved and moved around those that Jesse steered her clear from. "In we go." She heaved a breath, sank below the city with Jesse, and moved along the dank sub-city with him.


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse takes Grey toward Wickbridge, moving slowly. He moves slowly so as to avoid hunters, but also so that she might learn the way. Once you take this path a dozen times, it becomes engrained into the brain. Unable to be forgotten. Jesse sinks into silence - it's best, down here, to avoid catching unwanted attention. Down here, in the sewers, he keeps one hand on the butt of his gun, ready for trouble. But, thankfully, none comes their way - not that he doesn't think he can't deal with it, but because he'd prefer not to. He just wants to get home. They reach the exit, and Jesse climbs the short ladder to the manhole, tentatively nudging it aside until he knows the coast is clear - only then does he reach down to help Grey up, and out, and into the fresh air. Given the way they look, they'll have to stick to the shadows, it won't do to be seen covered in blood and gore.


<Grey> She was quiet. She should have been quiet hours ago in the sewers, but she had failed that task. With Jesse, sometimes the quiet was just as welcoming as what they spoke about. From games, to blood, to the arguments before she was turned. A date night, what was on television, what were their plans for the next day. She had fallen into a routine that involved the man next to her. Taking his help to pull herself up, she gave a bit of a grunt. Her boot caught on the curb, her legs getting tired. She didn't have much energy to begin their travel back. Of course, though, she seemed to gain it a little faster during her periods of rest. Hence, the nap felt wonderful before her phone call with her lover.

The stumble along the cement had her regaining her balance, shaking her head at the jelly like feelings that was starting again in her legs. "Stupid bullets." Was all she said, feeling the muscles along her thighs protest after the long walk.


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse frowns as his woman stumbles; she rights herself and he reaches out, tugging her closer, sliding his hip up against hers and pressing a kiss to her temple. He wants only to remove every item of her clothing and to kiss every scratch better; to tug out every bullet, and make it a pleasure for her. He thinks he can do that. He hopes that he can. "But how wonderful does it feel, hm?" he murmurs in her ear. He knows exactly where they are going; they don't even need a transit. Home is only a couple of blocks away. Surely she must now recognise her surroundings. "You are healed," he says. "Within hours..." he continues. Assuming she may have lost some blood, that she might need to feed, to refill, he closes his eyes. He inhales. He focuses, with his lips again pressed to her temple. Magic pushes from his core, outward, enveloping Grey, penetrating past her skin. He is giving her blood. Somehow, without losing any of his own. A nifty trick, if ever there was one.


<Grey> Grey takes a moment to close her eyes while she leans against his side. As she's pulled closer to Jesse, she almost feels that she gains more strength from him. "I'm sorry. It was a stupid thing for me to do. I don't know what I was thinking. I wanted to try to... get a little stronger. To make you proud, not **** it up." She grimaced a bit. All the blood dried on her skin was starting to make her itch. She was walking with him, clomping her boots in the darkness as if she didn't have much strength to pick them up off the cement. Their hips nestled together with each step as she took with him. In truth, in the next few steps, she started to feel a little stronger. She blinked a bit, the ache in her legs seeming to go away after a few steps and Jesse's quietness. "You did something." She murmured to him, not quite sure what it was just yet as they turned down the next corner towards Veil Towers.


<Jesse Fforde> "I did," he answers slyly. He retrieves his hand from his pocket and rubs at his neck, before gesturing to Grey's. "Were you... hungry? Are you still hungry?" he asks. A simple question, really, and if he were overheard it wouldn't be misconstrued to mean anything other than are you hungry? He shakes his head, then, wanting to reassure her in regard to her previous statement. "It's not called ******* up. It's called learning," he clarifies. "I am proud that you tried. I thought you knew already...." he smirks, voice dropping an octave as he dips his head, as if deep in conspiratorial mire. "...that independent women turn me on?"


<Grey> "I was a little hungry. My appetite seems to have dwindled, though." She eyed the man skeptically, smiling while they moved through the doors of their apartment building and took the few steps towards the elevator. She took a deep breath, sank against him. Oh, Grey was independent alright. But that was completely different than lusting and needy. While she leaned against his chest and inhaled the scent of him through his tank, she pulled away when the bell chimed signaling their floor. "Well, I certainly like to consider myself not really helpless, Jesse. I knew I should have just bucked up and trudged back somehow, some way." But of course, even Grey was not stupid. Having never been in the Quarantine Zone for more than a few moments, it was obvious she'd need a little assistance navigating.

"Shower time?" She said as she waited for him to unlock their door.


<Jesse Fforde> "No, you aren't helpless," he answers as he fishes the keys out of a clean pocket. They jangle in the hall, the key sliding neatly into one lock - and then a second, bigger key to unlock the deadbolt. The door is finally open, and he flicks on the lights as he steps inside and stands aside to allow Grey to pass. "And the more you learn, the more confident you'll be," he says with an arched brow. He says. He makes a silent agreement with himself that he'll take her, the next night. Together, they'll go back to the Quarantine Zone and they'll slaughter zombies until they can slaughter no more - and he'll keep at it with her. Because he has neglected to do so thus far, and it's about time he steps up. So that next time, she won't need to call him. Even if, deep down, he's glad that she did. If she hadn't, they wouldn't be here now, and he wouldn't be smirking playfully. "Definitely shower time," he says as he closes and locks the door behind them.


<Grey> Jesse was a man that granted her the space she needed to be herself and the strength she needed from him to be better with him. She turned to him, watching as he closed the door. She had only taken her phone with her that night, thankful for leaving her own precious belongings home here. She watched as his muscles bunched underneath his skin. She watched as that familiar smirk spread across his lips. She reached down and easily peeled up her shirt. "Are you saying I stink?" And she threw it at him. Her shirt, that is. She had balled it up and tossed it his way as she took off in a sprint for the bathroom with a laugh. "First one there gets to decide the water temperature!" And she took a head start. Jesse did have longer legs than her by a few inches. It was only fair!