Logs:S: Pt. reports recreational habit of 'playing superhero'. A: 'Hero' appears to be very loosely-applied terminology, but might indicate some self-destructive behaviors. More observation needed.

S: Pt. reports recreational habit of 'playing superhero'. A: 'Hero' appears to be very loosely-applied terminology, but might indicate some self-destructive behaviors. More observation needed.
Dramatis Personae Bobby, Zack, Zero
In Absentia Shane	2024-11-11 "So what Zombie Symptoms do I need to keep an eye out for?"
Location <NYC> East River Park - Lower East Side
This vibrant waterway stretches south towards the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges, both iconic spans that dominate the skyline. This area is bustling with activity, from the frequent sight of ferries and barges to joggers and cyclists along the riverside path. The green space along the riverbank is lined with benches, picnic spots, and walking trails, offering residents and visitors a scenic way to experience New York's waterside life. Sunsets over the East River cast a warm glow over the water, creating reflections that change with the seasons, while at night, lights from the Brooklyn waterfront and the bridges illuminate the scene, casting a dazzling array of colors across the ripples. The air is crisp and quiet along the river today -- the trees notably less Saturated as the Fall transitions to Winter and people start to opt for Much Warmer layers on their daily commutes. Contrary to this, Bobby is walking along the water’s edge in just a black band tee -- the faded jeans he’s wearing featuring many rips and tears that would give you a chill just looking at him. In his hand, the Glorious Nectar of Evolve does very little to warm his skin, the cup’s logo partially obscured by the sleeve he’d picked up not to preserve the heat of the coffee as such, but to keep his Cool from icing it right away (a comment made far too often by the baristas). He’s walking at an excruciatingly Slow pace, blue eyes trained on the water as he nears one of the many entrances to the Sewers down below. There's a lighter thwack-bump of a ball skitterbouncing along the ground, a thumpthumpthump of heavy ~~feet~~ paws along the damp riverline ground. A damp and filthy tennis ball is skittering past Bobby to plop into the water and hot on its heels, a very large tan and white pitbull is barreling past it to SPLOSH down into the shallows. The dog emerges shortly, triumphant, slimy prize held in his teeth, and though he's lumbering back up out of the water (to immediately shake an immense spray of none-too-clean East River wet alllllll over his immediate vicinity) the dog is not actually returning his prize. Having spied a new and unfamiliar human he's instead padding over to look hopefully up at Bobby just in case the thing in his hand is food. Though the dog seemed more or less reasonably doggish when in motion, now that he's stopped beside Bobby it's all too easy to see the ways that the pitbull is -- well. There's a dent cracked into its shoulder, bone sticking out jarringly through the fur; part of its face is hanging down, exposing huge teeth where they grip the ball. The tail that is furiously wagging looks snapped half-way through, its end dangling precariously from a connective strip of fur and looking in severe danger of dislodging at any moment. Wag, wag, wag. Following the dog at a much more leisurely pace is a tall man, somehow managing to look unhealthy-ashen-grey even through his warm brown complexion and seeming somewhat ill-fitting, like possibly at any moment his face might simply slide off. His chin-length locs are very neatly rolled, carved wooden beads inlaid with gold designs crimping a few of their edges here and there. He's also not particularly dressed for November chill -- blue and black striped short-sleeve button down together with his comfortable carpenter jeans. "Zero," he's calling, casual and unbothered; the dog glances over but doesn't recall. "Hey sorry, he's friendly." An experienced Friend-to-Dogs, Bobby manages to mostly avoid the wet spray by taking a large step backwards. "Somebody's a happy gu-" He stops short in his subsequent Greeting Crouch -- his free hand frozen in a hover above Zero's head. He instantly grimaces, watching his tail wag furiously as if it wasn't hanging on by a thread. "Are you-" He starts, before his attention is drawn to the Dog(?)'s owner and his smile drops impossibly further. It's certainly a new face, both for Himself and even for the person it sagged from. He's waving his free hand now, Standing once again after a gentle but tentative Pat on Zero's head. "You're good he's not causing any... harm. Is he okay?" Zero is pushing his large damp head happily up into the petting -- if having several bits of him in states of torn off precarity is hurting, at all, he's definitely not showing it. He's tipping his broad snout up so that he can also shove the ball demandingly into Bobby's hand -- not that he's releasing it, purely wanting to have his ~~cake~~ ball and fetch it, too. Zack has drawn into closer orbit, by now. His own smile, broad, would probably be quite amiable if it were not for its eerie lopsided droop. "What, Zero? He's great, he loves this walk. -- Damn," his eyes have drifted to the partially-seen very familiar logo on the cup, "this mutt can sniff out freaks. Even more impressive because he definitely does not know he is one." He nods towards the cup. "Tragedy about the owner, huh? Nice to see people doing their part to keep the place standing." Bobby's gaze lingers on Zack's smile, shifting from Perturbed to Intrigued, Reassured. "Quite the skill!" He's talking to Zero now, wrestling the ball from his jaws with Far Less force than actually required, out of fear of ripping his teeth out entirely. That wouldn't leave the Best impression. "There's so many of us down this way now. He prob'ly sniffs one out every ten steps." His smile waivers, but he finally frees the ball from Zero's grip, throwing it along the water's edge. "It's so fucked. We were in the same class, I should-ve--" He takes a breath, "They're great, at Evolve. Built a real legacy for all of 'em." He takes a large sip, the coffee Considerably colder now, watching Zero's broken body careen down the waterfront back to the two of them,"You local? Haven't seen you around, though I've never been the most observant." A couple of Zero's teeth are wiggling treacherously, but the ball is freed without outright losing any others. "Oh, shit," Zack is saying, his eyes a little wider, "you knew him, my condolences, man. I saw him here and there around Freaktown but I never really --" He waves a hand vaguely instead of finishing this sentence. "What's local? Think half this city's washed up from somewhere else. Used to be up in Boston when I was alive. Been here since, uh, last year though, that's not nothing, right?" He digs a small piece of jerky out of somewhere in his pocket, forgoing the wrestling match by offering the treat to Zero in exchange for the ball, then sending ball and dog both hurtling off down the riverbank again. "You? Guess you went to school here at the least." Bobby raises an eyebrow, head tilted in a slight nod as the Intrigue quickly returns to his face. “When you were alive? Don’t tell me your mutation straight up killed you.” It’s meant as a joke, but there’s an air of ‘shit was that Insensitive?’ to his smirk. “More than just school. Grew up here — well, ‘round Long Beach. Short Stint in Vegas for College but I’m sooo glad to be back. I’m Bobby, by the way—“ He wipes his free hand on his jeans, Zero’s residual slobber wetting the denim as he holds a hand out to Zack (preparing himself for a potentially Squishy or Boney handshake) "I think if we live long enough, a lotta people's mutations will straight up kill them." Zack offers this blithely, cheery enough on the topic of Deadly Mutations. He eyes Bobby's hand slightly incredulously for just a second, but then takes it in a handshake that's cold as the grave and a little squishy despite the firmness of his grip. "-- but yeah," he's continuing, just as blithe: "Killed me, zombifies everyone I touch -- rough on poor Zero but what am I supposed to do, not pet him when he's giving me those big eyes." He's still smiling. Broad. "Zack. Vegas not the first place I think of for getting educated. Well, not academically." Usually quick on the Uptake of Jokes, Bobby chuckles lightly as he returns the handshake -- his own grip much lighter than it would be, and his half-smile Very Obviously unsure if Zack's words actually are in jest. To air on the side of Caution, he doesn't let the handshake linger for too long -- quickly pulling it away and swapping the residual Undead Touch with the paper coffee cup from his other hand. "Oh for sure, but you called it -- there wasn't a whole lot of studying goin' on. Not 'til Senior-hood kicked me up the ass." Zero has rejoined them, dropping the ball at Bobby's feet with a wet plop, "I see what you mean 'bout those eyes--" Another throw, this time back into the water, "So what Zombie Symptoms do I need to keep an eye out for?" "Oh, the usual. Flesh rotting off, insatiable hunger. The brains thing, total stereotype, any flesh will do, actually." Zack is turning slightly to watch Zero splash his way into the water. "Honestly, Vegas is probably good practice, lotta people out for their pound of flesh out there. What's your plans now you're back home?" Bobby clicks his tongue with a sideways smile-slash-grimace, “Gotcha,” He sits into his hip as he finishes the Dregs of coffee, “Food Costs in this city were dire anyway.” The smile after this is warm — relaxed as he places his arms across his chest to rest on their counterparts, “This is actually my first winter off in a whiiile, so I’m just takin’ it easy. The fam’ still need to cool off about the whole Being a Mutant thing, not sure me playing Superhero every now and then is helping much but,” His gaze drifts, unfocused as he seems to retreat inside his head for for just a Moment, “I gotta do my part. What about you? What brought you and Zero to the Big Apple?” "Ohh-h-h, you're one of those." It's not exactly complimentary; Superhero Types maybe getting slotted in a box somewhere alongside vegans, Jehovah's Witnesses and Crossfit enthusiasts in Zack's mental bin of mildly offputting oddballs. His smile is still easygoing, though. "Zero probably grew up here, for all I know. He got hit by a car just outside Freaktown last year and I tried taking him to the vet, but --" His mouth pulls outward in a mooshy grimace as the dog drags himself back up the muddy banks. He has, somewhere along the swim, finally lost the broken-off tip of his tail, a truncated appendage now wagging happily behind him. "Vet couldn't do much for him but, y'know, we'd kinda bonded on the way over, I thought he should get a second chance." Zack stoops beside the wet dog, scruffing at Zero's head -- as he pets the pitbull, there's a very very noticeable regrowth happening, the dog's torn face seaming itself back together, regrowing its missing fur, leg pulling back into a more proper alignment where it had been caved in, until at last most of him looks good as new. The tail is still missing a chunk, and Zack himself looks droopier, strange lumpy unnevenness in his arms now where it seems like some of the flesh has simply been sucked away. "-- what's superhero look like to you?" "As cringey as it sounds, giving Zero another chance at life was pretty heroic. Even if you couldn't -- zombify -- him to do so, that's exactly why I do it. If I have even the slightest chance to make someone else's life better-" He watches intently as Zero's frame visibly Fills out, even the tail-sprouting regrowth not able to steal his full attention from Zack as he starts to look more dilapidated as a result, "Even at a cost of my own." Bobby joins him in his stoop, scritching under Zero's chin as the dog's evident happiness brings a smile to his face too, "Philanthropy bullshit, I know -- but we can do so much more for people like us and well, when we need to fight so damn much just to exist sometimes -- just makes it all the more worthwhile. For me." He pauses as he stands once again, "Wouldn't catch me in spandex though, that's where I draw the line." "H-uh," Zack is considering this for a long while, as he scratches at Zero's wet fur. He's studying Bobby intently, but this ends only in a small oof and a cheery: "Good luck to you, man." He pokes at his arm absently, grimacing at the lumpier new spots as he gets to his feet too; there's something about his shifting stance that is clearly, if unhurried, getting ready to head off. But not before another consideration, and a firmly judged: "You could pull off the spandex." Bobby’s chewing the inside of his cheek, replaying his words a little More than perhaps one Should directly after speaking them. He can’t decide if the words themselves are the problem, or if it’s the somewhat blind belief in them that he’s mulling over. But, a smile is soon brought back to his rosy face as he too starts to turn his stance away, “Thanks-“ He chuckles, before raising two fingers to half-heartedly salute as a wave, “Great to meet you Zack — and you, Zero. Sure I’ll see you both around.” He turns on his heel, the mixture of stone and sand beneath his converse crunching underfoot; the need for another coffee hot on his mind.