ArchivedLogs:Intensely Impractical

Intensely Impractical
Dramatis Personae Ash, Old-Echo
In Absentia	2014-11-15 '
Location <NYC> Abandoned Warehouse - Brooklyn
Just one among many old buildings in an industrial section of the borough, this warehouse was undoubtedly once bustling. It's large, a spacious segment of floor with a number of high-rising shelves still lining the walls from floor up to the exposed beams of the ceiling. There's plenty of smaller nooks and rooms tucked away at the sides of the building, and though the ceiling is mostly still intact and the windows boarded up a crumbling hole near the roof and a few removed planks from a window near the back make it a common home for wayward birds, stray cats, and the occasional vagrant taking advantage of strong walls and bathroom plumbing that still largely works. The latter tend to avoid this place more often than not come nighttime, though; among street people there are rumours that this building is often populated by monsters. Curly hair spilling down over her shoulders, Echo peers down from the empty warehouse's catwalk. Quiet and very still, she drapes her elbows and chest over the rickety old railing. Pigeons swoop by and some even land nearby her before scurrying away once they realize she's alive. Sometimes, it's just nice to be up high for a change. The day is frigid cold and the massive space is no exception. Bright sunlight filters in and out, making visible streaks of floating dust particles in the air. For the most part however, the sound of the city seems far away. Echo wears the same thing she's been wearing for days: an earthy green peasant skirt that flutters over the floor of the catwalk and a baggy, but low-cut tan-and-olive striped sweater. Beggars can't be choosers. Ash appears at one of the entrances to this warehouse at some point that day, decked out in Carhart outer gear. He's a vision in brown canvas, the insulating layers adding bulk to his normally wiry frame. His booted feet grip the ground as he tucks his large baseball bat under one arm and yanks the doors open, rust and disuse making the task more arduous than normal. He waits a moment or two, then peeks in, scanning the surroundings. Baseball bat held at ready, he steps in and gets a look around, careful and slow, tension in his arms. His face, however, is impassive. The catwalks are scanned next, half of his mouth pulling into a grimace when he spots a person-shaped blob. He focuses on it and steps a little closer, his hands gripping the bat harder. "You alive? Best answer quick. It's really all we have to talk about. If you're alive, I'll leave you alone, I swear." Echo doesn't answer quick, or at all. A hiss escapes her, not so unlike the gargle of the undead and she scuffles into the shadows of a nearby support beam. The clang and creak of neglected metal supports can be heard as she descends onto the stairs. A flock of unlucky pigeons erupts out into the open space of the warehouse before settling in new hidey-holes. "Seriously, kid. You gotta actually speak some words or go in a different direction if you don't want me to take your head off. It's nothing personal. It's just... well, I don't actually mind killing a zombie right now, but if you're not a zombie, then it would be really unfortunate." Ash steps into the center of the warehouse space, giving himself enough space to swing his bat. While he waits on Echo, he keeps his eyes open, looking around in case this supposed undead has friends. From her hiding place, Echo giggles. The girlish, provocative sound bounces up through the rafters. It's a decidedly uncharacteristic sound for the undead to make. She steps out into the light with a thin shawl over her head and hair to better conceal her mutation. Not a kid, but a young woman, she clasps her hands under her arms against the cold. Her expression is an intermingling of amusement and an apologetic glint. She couldn't resist. She laughs at him, standing there with his bat. Ash stares at Echo when she comes close. The ground rumbles beneath their feet as if a huge vehicle passed outside the building. He points his bat at her and then shakes his head. "Look, if you can't talk, that's fine, but it's intensely impractical to approach someone looking to kill something. I mean, if you have a deathwish, that's fine, but I'm not here to be your way out of this existence." He turns away, keeping an eye on Echo as he leaves. It's a slow departure, as he's not going to take his eyes off her as he goes. "I can talk," Echo assures quietly. She pauses, considering the ground beneath her tiny feet, "I'm just not afraid of you." The last part is mumbled, but still discernible. She doesn't just keep an eye on him, but her full attention. She goads him on by backpedaling ever so slowly towards the stairs she'd been on, the movement ensuring that he /has/ to keep his guard up. Ash grumbles and turns, heading outside. He slams the heavy door closed behind him, resting his weight against it for a moment before turning and stalking away. Echo chews on her lip, stopping to lean back against the wall. She watches Ash storm off and continues to watch the door for some time after. Eventually, she makes her way back up to the catwalk.