[He seriously had nothing. One moment he'd been in the undead apocalypse, now? Man, oh, man. He was in a freaking house! With unbroken windows! How low his standards had fallen, but whatever. Suburbia Louis will take. The only problem? No one else was there- no one he knew, that was. No boys, no girls, no delinquents of all underages.
He hadn't even noticed the pictures yet, he was just wandering the house, calling out at the top of his voice]
Hey ho, anybody home?
FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD. And Clowns
I'm going to die here.
[He does not sound like he was complaining. It was so very slightly cold outside, but after half a decade stuck behind brick walls? You bet your ass he was enjoying some outside time. And not alone, either.
Well, technically alone, but his hands were full, anyway. A giant metal mixing bowl overflowing with mounds of jello, cake, frosting, and other goods that neighbors had been bringing to the house for zero reason he could figure was supported by one arm while he ate giant bites out of the bowl with a wooden kitchen spoon wielded by the other hand. He was getting looks, sure, but most people just tsked about his dirty faced but seemed more or less amused by the 'exuberance of youth' and how he should 'use that metabolism while he has it!' The Styrofoam clown head, spotted before he cut in, was proudly hanging from the belt of his coat like a strange, cake-related trophy.
No one else had wanted it, okay?
He let out another happy sigh with his eyes closed as he takes another giant bite of frosting, not noticing he's about to walk straight into another person that happened to be on this side walk/parking lot/yard/park.]
NETWORK VOICE
So I, uh, totally missed the drive in craze, yeah? We had the interwebs when movies were a thing. But it's not supposed to be that fucked up, right? Like that was not okay. I do not have enough money for the therapy watching that's gonna need.
Louis | The Walking Dead (telltale games Final Chapter) | Under 20
[He seriously had nothing. One moment he'd been in the undead apocalypse, now? Man, oh, man. He was in a freaking house! With unbroken windows! How low his standards had fallen, but whatever. Suburbia Louis will take. The only problem? No one else was there- no one he knew, that was. No boys, no girls, no delinquents of all underages.
He hadn't even noticed the pictures yet, he was just wandering the house, calling out at the top of his voice]
Hey ho, anybody home?
FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD. And Clowns
I'm going to die here.
[He does not sound like he was complaining. It was so very slightly cold outside, but after half a decade stuck behind brick walls? You bet your ass he was enjoying some outside time. And not alone, either.
Well, technically alone, but his hands were full, anyway. A giant metal mixing bowl overflowing with mounds of jello, cake, frosting, and other goods that neighbors had been bringing to the house for zero reason he could figure was supported by one arm while he ate giant bites out of the bowl with a wooden kitchen spoon wielded by the other hand. He was getting looks, sure, but most people just tsked about his dirty faced but seemed more or less amused by the 'exuberance of youth' and how he should 'use that metabolism while he has it!' The Styrofoam clown head, spotted before he cut in, was proudly hanging from the belt of his coat like a strange, cake-related trophy.
No one else had wanted it, okay?
He let out another happy sigh with his eyes closed as he takes another giant bite of frosting, not noticing he's about to walk straight into another person that happened to be on this side walk/parking lot/yard/park.]
NETWORK VOICE
So I, uh, totally missed the drive in craze, yeah? We had the interwebs when movies were a thing. But it's not supposed to be that fucked up, right? Like that was not okay. I do not have enough money for the therapy watching that's gonna need.
Seriously, what the hell?!