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Flesh had a certain quality to it where, when it was pressed, it resumed its original shape. Though it may have briefly turned a lighter shade as the blood beneath it was forced away, it always returned to a natural healthy and pink tone. Shivamet’s hand did not have this quality. Rather than softness, the grip was notably stiff. Had he any less tact, Gray might have turned over the palm in his hand to look for pooling of blood. Corpses did that. The blood all rushed to the lowest point on a dead body and then blackened the skin there, rigidly and darkly engorging it in the least appealing way.

Of course, vampires were probably different right? Because they were in motion, and not entirely dead. Not really. They had the whole...magic thing going on.

That was about the time he took note of the plants creeping up over his white shoes. A gaze narrowed upon the offending flora, which brought with it gravesoil and the potential for green and brown stains. Grayson held up a lone finger as if to say ‘hey, one sec’, before he dropped into a crouch so he could delicately pry the weeds away from his garments, coaxing them to grow in a different direction.

“I think my graveyard is older.” He commented offhand. “The one in Cherrydale. I live in one of those crypts. You know, they’re surprisingly accommodating. We even got it wired for electricity.” It did not occur to Grayson, it seemed, that he could potentially sleep in a place that at least seemed more human.

“And that’s awfully sweet of you.” And after a pause. “The Fade?” He had heard of it, but didn’t really know any concrete details.

There was something distinctly beautiful about watching the way that browed and dying plants suddenly came to life, turning green, growing stronger, rising. Rising much the way that Grayson did from his crouched position as his eyes like moonstone focused on what was happening at their feet. Ever since he’d been turned, this had been the case. Whenever he came across something that caught his eye, it seemed to hold his attention with an indefinite sort of power. As if the very nature of the artistic perspective had a grip on his chest and could pin him in place. He imagined, as he watched the blossoming of flowers, what it would look like to find a way to translate that visual into a garment in some way. What could possibly be a more powerful metaphor for Harper Rock?

Regarded largely as a place of death, and crime, and monsters, the city in which he lived did not have a good reputation with the rest of the world. First there had been the revelation about vampires. Then zombies had begun to spill out of the Quarantine Zone. There were soldiers in the streets, trying to put down the undead. There were check points. There was a trigger-happy militia to help with the overworked army and police force. And yet, from death could come such beautiful things. That was perhaps the curse and the blessing of living in Harper Rock. It was a place where magic was real, and with that magic came dark and unspeakable things, but with it also came mystery, power, and just a little taste of hope.

It was what made up those plants which Grayson needed to bottle and sell. The idea that there was more to, what many considered a little slice of Hell, than met the eye.

He was obviously distracted, and realizing he was probably being rude because he didn’t glance up and didn’t respond to the other man’s words for several moments. “You’re fascinated by death then?” he asked finally as his gaze slowly lifted and he blinked a couple of times. Where had he left his coffee? Rather than respond to the comment about the Oldtown Graveyard, he instead nabbed his drink from the tombstone, and began towards the gated exit, motioning with one hand. Perhaps Adley would be there, and Grayson could introduce them. “When you go, you will need to tell me what it’s like there. What it looks like...smells like...feels like.” It didn’t even occur to him to ask how it would be possible for Shivamet to get there. Such was the open-mind of the newly turned. He just assumed it was something new to be mastered.

Harper Rock was just like any city at night - there was enough light pollution that it was impossible to make out the stars through the strain on the eyes which came from the ambient visual noise. Harper Rock was not at all like any other city at night, because there were soldiers on patrol looking for zombies, cops out responding to any number of supernatural muggings and homicides. There were more crimes that went on in a few square blocks in the city of monsters, than went on in hundreds of miles of the rest of the country. It occured to Grayson that his new friend might draw the wrong sort of attention. But he supposed, if that happened, the Allurist might be able to talk them out of any harmful situation. Maybe.

“Well I’ve already died the one time. I wouldn’t necessarily want to repeat that, but I’m happier now than I was beforehand.” He said, though he was just sort of rambling out loud. He got the impression that Shiva was not the sort of man who talked a lot, and it seemed Gray was more than happy to fill any voids with his own idle chatter. “I guess I want to experience everything at least once. I used to have the wanderlust. That’s what my mom called it. The need to see new things, try new experiences.” By that point, he had made it to the military checkpoint leading out of the Quarantine Zone. Though it wasn’t necessarily a Quarantine Zone anymore.

There were a couple of soldiers behind ballistic glass who controlled who got in and out. One of them pointed to Shivamet, and the other reached for a gun. Grayson snapped his fingers to get their attention. “Hey! Hey guys. Hey. None of that, okay? He’s with me. Zero brain-eaty tendencies. Promise.” And they seemed to believe him, albeit hesitantly. There was something about Gray that made humans trust him very easily. He wasn’t honestly sure exactly what it was, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“As you can imagine.” He continued once they’d made it past the check point. “I can’t really go traveling much because of the vampire thing. I still eventually want to road trip somewhere. Maybe visit other countries. My family used to own this ship, and I loved sailing the Mediterranean. I think that’d be what I want to do. My first big purchase once things start to really go my way.” At which point he realized he wasn’t giving the other man much of an opportunity to talk at all, so he cleared his throat and shot his new friend a bit of a sheepish look.

“Tell me more about it.”