Information

[Gabriel Lawrence]

In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide.

Never had he been to his brother's grave. He hadn't even been allowed to go to the funeral. He'd been in court the day of the service, fighting to prove that he was innocent for a crime that he most certainly didn't commit. There had been no one to testify for him, as his mother had shunned Gabe (Then, Jon). She had been on the court's side, saying that he had killed his brother in cold blood.

Now, standing over his brother's grave, Gabe felt distaste towards Andrew. It had all been Andrew's fault. If he hadn't been so selfish as to kill himself, Gabe's name would still be Jon. He wouldn't have spent all of the best years of his life in jail. Maybe he would've even luckily been dead by now from the sickness, or whatever the hell had killed all of these people. Gabe felt guilty for thinking so bad of Andrew, mainly because he was simply one step below his dear brother. Self-destruction was almost as selfish as actually ending it.

Still, he couldn't help but be jealous of Andrew. He'd gotten out the easy way; fast and strait forward. He hadn't had to suffer like all of these people lying dead on the streets and in buildings. He wasn't suffering now like Gabe was, and Gabe was now more than ever. All hope was gone; even if he saw another person, it still wouldn't be worth living. Yet that haunting memory (Damn Anthony. Damn him.) of his brother's death kept stinging at the back of his mind. He didn't want to look that horrible when he died. He wanted to be beautiful when he died.

Though it was dark out and he very much knew there was a chance of wolves appearing, Gabe still dwelt upon the single gravestone. He reached out and brushed his soft hand against the top of the rough stone. The textures conflicted, leaving a light stinging sensation in Gabe's palm. This hardly bothered him. He'd been through worse; much, much worse. If anything, it actually helped him feel a bit better. The very light sensation of pain was enough to bring him slightly out of his numb state.

He heard a snap of a twig, like someone had just taken a step. He got the feeling that they were watching him. "Hello?" He called out, his usually light, melodic voice strangely dry; it sounded foreign even to him. He hadn't felt the need to speak in so long, that his voice seemed to have shrank.
His heart skipped a beat and he actually got worried. He was an atheist, but... he believed in ghosts a bit more than he should have. A freaky cemetery in the middle of the night... ghosts were certainly a possibility.

[Josephine Roux]

If there was ever a prize for the most fickle person on earth, Josephine Roux would no doubt win it. One minute she was happy, the next she was sad. One minute she was hungry, the next she wasn't. One minute she cared about her safety, the next she couldn't care less. The latter example was the one relevant at the moment. Even though, only days ago, she had taken great care to hide herself and Bailey from any possible predators at night (even going so far as to dig a hole with her bare hands, hide inside, and cover it with leaves), this night she was walking around lazily, never bothering to look over her shoulder. In fact, she was feeling a little cocky tonight. "If the pandemic didn't kill me," she thought to herself as she took a drag off a cigarette, "I don't think any wolves will be able to either."

She wasn't really aware of where she was going, having only arrived in the town earlier in the day. She was merely exploring, going in and looting more cigarettes and booze and ammo from any store she fancied. Joe even tried on some higher end clothes and jewelry but didn't take them, figuring they were too expensive to be ruined. She had also eaten that day, but not very much. Then again, it was a feast compared to days earlier. Feeling satiated and on a nicotine buzz, Josephine had to admit she felt nearly untouchable.

Bailey trotted along ahead, happily sniffing and marking his territory now and then. He was a handsome dog. Textbook German Shepherd, but handsome nonetheless. He was the first to alert Josephine that there was someone else around. Bailey suddenly stopped just outside some trees and didn't move, waiting to see if the newcomer was friend or enemy. Joe could see they had somehow ended up at a church, but more specifically, a graveyard. Then she saw the man.

At first, she thought he was a woman, but on closer inspection, she saw he was indeed a man of average height. He had many tattoos and looked like someone she might have partied with back in NYC. Josephine felt like he wasn't a threat, so she stepped forward and Bailey followed her, cautious of the man's movements. The dog had become incredibly protective of her over the last two weeks.

"Hello," Josephine answered, her voice heavy with a French accent. "Zis ees a strange place to be so late at night." She noticed he was looking at a particular grave, his hand on it. On it, the name Andrew Williams. "He was a lucky one, eh? Got out before zee pandemic?"

[Gabriel Lawrence]

Silently, Gabe took his hand from the tombstone after she spoke as if it had suddenly turned fire hot. He put said hand into the pocket of his light, pale pink jacket, along with his other one as well. She'd probably take this as some kind of small act to get warm, although it wasn't. He did it simply because it was a more comfortable position for his arms. Gabe could hardly feel the difference between hot and cold any more. Everything was just...blank.

Hearing her voice was somehow odd to him; it seemed like it had been so long since he'd heard another human voice. There were probably people out on the streets, but he generally tried to avoid all main roads. Stalking mysteriously in dark alleyways and graveyards in the middle of the night. Creepy? Yeah, it's creepy. Almost too creepy for Gabe, though I can't say that he'd prefer a night at a club over one at home.

A single, humorless laugh left him, but his soft lips didn't open nor contort into even the slightest of smiles. They stayed in place, slightly turned downward yet not enough to actually be called a frown. "Lucky..." He repeated her words slowly, feeling how they felt on his tongue. Somehow, 'Lucky' wasn't the first word that would come to Gabe's mind when describing Andrew. This could just be that they had known each other ever since Gabe was born and that, even in death, they had that familiar sibling rivalry. "I suppose so. Sort of." If you call getting a free shot (literally) out of life lucky, then yeah. He was lucky. These were Gabe's silent words to himself that he was too cowardly to say out loud. Ha, wasn't that just like him; making The Cowardly Lion look like The Terminator.

Gabe at last brought his dark eyes up to rest upon the girl who'd spoke. His attention was more directed at the dog than her. He loved animals; they always managed to cheer him up a little bit. A small smile flitted upon his features and he knelt down. "Hey there," he said to the dog as if he were talking to an actual person. It always annoyed him when people talked to dogs like they were babies; he thought dogs had a fairly good sense of what was going on. Gabe patted his knee softly, inviting the dog over. He wasn't trying to be rude and ignore the girl, just... his attention was elsewhere.

[Josephine Roux]

Bailey looked up to Josephine as is for permission to go over the man. She thought this was quite adorable and couldn't help but smile as she lit another cigarette. She let the dog sit there for a moment longer, he was clearly anxious for some attention, his tail wagging in anticipation. Joe took a drag off her fresh cigarette and then nodded in approval. Bailey wasted no time and bounded over to him, nearly knocking him over and gracing his arms, face, neck with sloppy dog kisses.

"Do you smoke?" Josephine asked the man, holding out an open carton of cigarettes, offering them. He didn't strike her as the type, but she was just trying to be courteous. She already felt like she had somehow made a bad impression.

She looked at the grave again and lamented silently that she never got a chance to bury her family. She didn't know what good it would do, really, they would all rot either way, but somehow lying in a casket below a headstone was better than lying in a New York flat, forgotten forever. Josephine was left in the silence for a few moments' time, unsure of what to say. She wanted to know more about the man who was buried there, but she didn't want to bring up painful memories. And she knew just as well as anyone how painful memories of the dead could be. Still, she was curious and in a bold mood.

"Who was 'ee?" She asked, still gazing at the carved headstone. "How did 'ee die?" She hoped her questions wouldn't offend the stranger, but then again, with the world on the edge of destruction, who cared about whom offended whom?

[Gabriel Lawrence]

For the first time in who knows how long, Gabe laughed. A grin spread wide on his face and the laugh lines next to his eyes showed up.
He'd forgotten just how much happiness and comfort dogs could bring people; he didn't know why he hadn't gotten a dog for himself yet. He supposed now it was useless and that there probably wasn't many dogs left in the world. And having a wolf as a pet would be pretty much out of the question. Well, a wild wolf, at the least.

Gabe stood up and looked back to the woman, absentmindedly scratching the dog behind the ears. Slowly but surely, his expression settled back to it's original, his mind having pushed away any signs of contentment. His body fought it like it was a disease, doing all it could to prevent Gabe from being actually normal for too long. He hated how it did that, and he hated the fact that he couldn't control it. He probably could if he tried hard enough, but he's The Cowardly Lion, remember?

He had to stop and think about her question for several silent moments. Did he smoke? Sure, he'd had a few cigarettes now and then, but he couldn't be called a smoker. He wasn't addicted to the stuff. It was just nice now and then. "Not really, but I'll join you." He took two small steps forward to grab a slender white object from the carton. After mumbling a thanks, he dug around in his pocket until he found his lighter. Lighters generally came in handy when there was no electricity.

He listened to her questions as he took a first hit on the cigarette and looked to the tombstone once again. "He was my b--" He cut himself off, suddenly remembering that he didn't exactly have the last name Williams any more. But did it really matter after the pandemic? Did people really care whether you were an ex-criminal or not? Still, might as well be safe. She might've heard about him on the news; he'd certainly been on there more than once. And frankly, he didn't want her to run away scared from a so-called 'Murderer'. "He was my cousin," Gabe said instead, quickly recomposing his calm expression.

As for the answer to her next question, he only had a one word answer: "Suicide." It really didn't bother him to talk about Andrew like this now. Not after so many years. Prison is a harsh thing and messes with you, making you tough. Sissies don't last long there, so generally you had to learn how to be tough. "You have any family here?" Gabe asked, leaning against his brother's tombstone. Surely the girl had to have a reason for being out in a graveyard in the middle of the night. Or maybe she was just as weird as he was. Who knows?

[Josephine Roux]

Having already finished her first cigarette by the time the stranger took his, she lit up another. She was the kind of smoker, who, even though they smoked two packs a day, maybe more on bad days, was still convinced she wasn't addicted and that she could stop at any time. The truth, rather, was that she was addicted, and would always be addicted. Maybe not always to cigarettes, but always to something because without addiction, Josephine Roux just wouldn't be herself. She looked down at Bailey, who looked rather sad now that the man had turned his attention to her and his cigarette. Frowning, she patted him somewhat roughly one last time on top of the head, and muttered, "Ah, pathétique!" under her breath. Bailey whined softly, taking the hint that he wouldn't be receiving anymore attention for the moment, and curled up into a little ball in front of the gravestone.

Josephine noticed the stranger hesitate when she asked who the man buried beneath them was. She didn't know why he would lie about who it was; he was dead. And even if it was something horrible, like he had been murdered by the man standing in front of her, who cared? Josephine knew that before she died, whether it was from disease, or wolves, or malnutrition, she would probably have to kill someone to survive. Still, she didn't push the subject any further and merely nodded when the man answered that it had been his cousin, a victim of suicide.

"You have any family here?"

Now that the tables had been turned on her, Joe realized why the man might have lied. It hurt terribly, a horrible knotting, sinking feeling in her stomach, to think about her family. It wouldn't have surprised her to know that he had that same feeling at her question. Suddenly, she felt quite guilty for asking, and knew that she would have to return the favor that he paid her and answer the question, although she would do it truthfully.

"No, I'm from New York. My family ees dead. 'Ee's all I've got," She answered, nodding down towards Bailey.

[Gabriel Lawrence]

Gabe pulled the cigarette away from his mouth after taking a hit on it. He wondered how people could possibly look cool while smoking; he imagined that he probably looked like a complete dork. Of course, he had never really been too fond of himself nor thought highly of himself. So thus, he had a right to think he looked dorky while smoking.

He looked down at the dog when the woman specified that he was the only family she had left. "Thought so. If you think about it..." He paused, not for dramatic effect, but because he was thinking about it. "We're the unlucky ones. Have to put up with all of this sadness and stuff of everyone dying. Even if you weren't sad before, this'll do it to you. And the smell..." He shivered plainly. He'd hated that smell, that nasty dead smell. It wasn't just the smell of rotting bodies. It was a smell that was strong everywhere he went, especially here; the smell of death.

And yet, he had to laugh in his mind about the whole situation. This was comical to him in a morbid way. A horrible pandemic, killing off nearly everyone on the planet, leaving the survivors all walking around depressed. He would definitely not be surprised if the human population died off because of this; everyone would off themselves like Andrew had. Or just randomly walk off of cliffs or jump off of bridges. It would've been even more funny had he not been one of those people that would do that.

He realized something. He hadn't told her his name. "Sorry for the rudeness... I'm Gabriel." He nodded once in a bit too late 'hello'. Well, that's what people did in jail. Nobody hugged or shook hands; just nodded.
Gabe threw the cigarette onto the ground, having it land right next to Andrew's grave stone. Nope, he really didn't have much respect for the dead. Especially his brother. And besides, what was the point if you didn't believe in God or an afterlife or anything like that? To him, there wasn't a point.

[Josephine Roux]

Listening intently as the man went on about how the survivors were the unlucky ones, Joe agree with every word he spoke. How many times had she thought about killing herself? Too many to count. How many times had she thought about letting herself be eaten by wolves? Again, too many. In the past two weeks she had thought about death more often than she ever had in her entire life. Still, even though sometimes she did want to be dead, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Secretly, silently, she felt she was being punished. And secretly, silently, she was something of a masochist.

The man she was talking to was strange and reserved and she felt like there was something about him hiding beneath the surface, just waiting to rear its ugly head, but overall, she liked him. And what's more is Bailey liked him, and if that dog, who was more protective of her than anyone previously had been, liked him then he must be a good guy. At the moment, Joe was content, which was a strange feeling. She couldn't remember being content since the last time she had seen her family alive, and that had been just over two weeks ago. It was a nice change of pace, but she knew it wouldn't last.

Josephine said the man's name over and over in her head, trying to put his face with his name. She was horrible with names, just horrible. She noticed he didn't extend a hand for her to shake and so, in fear of embarrassing herself, did not extend one either, but instead nodded back. "Josephine. Joe eef you want," she said. "Gabriel ees a beautiful name. 'Ee was zee angel that told Mary she would give birth to Jesus. Not that I believe any of that crap. But maybe you will bring me good news someday." She smiled softly.

[Gabriel Lawrence]

The wolves. Ah, the wolves. Having your throat being ripped apart by a wolf didn't sound all that appealing, but then again, it was only the messier form of having it simply slit. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad. See the kind of messed up things that Gabe had? He didn't think they were strange at all in any human way. It was just how he was used to thinking, given the fact that he'd been thinking about death since he was 12.

Gabe's thin eyebrows raised up and he chuckled softly. He mumbled something along the lines of 'Ironic', but one couldn't really be sure with Gabriel. He did find that funny, however. Gabe had never really been a reader of the bible, though his parents had been hardcore Christians. And naturally, he knew the entire story. That's where he'd gotten the name from. After his prison escapade, while trying to come up with a name, Gabriel had came to mind. He'd remembered it had some importance, though he hadn't been able to place that importance or name it. Now he could. Gabriel and Jonathan. Both bible names. Ironic, no?

"I just find that funny because I'm not exactly the luckiest person ever. Or one to bring good news." Gabe looked up into the sky at the waning moon, opening his mind to flood out to the far most corners of the galaxy. He found it easy to do this -- opening his mind. When he could think about everything and nothing at the same time. Though his body numb, his mind always feeling and wondering.

After another moments of silence, Gabe sighed softly and returned his attention once more to Joe. "You remind me of a girl that was in my class. She used to have a French accent too. I remember one Halloween in High School, a friend and I teepee'd her house." He smirked at the memory, but the instantly thought of the one he'd thrown toilette paper onto the house with; Darian. Gabe hadn't thought of Ian in so long, though he didn't know how he couldn't. He'd been his best friend for so long. Apparently not any more, thought Gabe.

[Josephine Roux]

((OOC: Sorry it took me so long to reply, but anyway, here it is!))

"You never know," Josephine replied when Gabriel said he wasn't one to bring good news. "Nobody knows what zee future holds for zem. I can safely say I never saw all zees sheet coming."

Even though Joe had been in the United States for a few years now, there were still some things she didn't understand. No matter how hard she tried to look American, tried to sound American, tried to act and think American, she was still a French transplant, still someone who didn't quite belong. Usually whenever she didn't quite understand something, she ignored it and changed the subject, mostly because she didn't want people to think she was stupid. But she had survived the pandemic and what's more, the elements for the past two weeks. She couldn't really be called stupid by anyone.

"What does zat mean?" She asked, lighting yet another cigarette, not even aware that she was on her fourth since meeting the man. "To 'teepee'? Eet doesn't sound very nice."

Bailey had now moved from his spot at Josephine's feet, and was walking around, sniffing here and there. She was only slightly worried about him. After all, he had protected her quite a few times. She kept an eye on him but let him do his own thing, aware that two humans talking was probably boring the poor beast to death.

[Gabriel Lawrence]

((ooc// No problem at all n_n))

"You have no idea," he said in a quiet voice with a very slight hint of melancholy. Gabe never would've guessed what his future had for him. He never would've guessed that his brother would commit suicide, or he'd be sent to jail then escape and have to change his name, and he certainly never would've guessed that this whole pandemic would ever happen. He smiled coldly when she said 'Shit'. Hahh.

Gabe watched as she lit up another cigarette. For a split second, he saw a bit of Andrew in her. Isn't it funny how sometimes you see flashes of famous people and people you know in others? Joe reminded Gabe of Andrew because of the cigarette. Andrew had been a heavy smoker as well, starting up the habit when he was only eleven years old. Gabe remembered how he'd always had to cover for Andrew and keep their parents busy while the older one snuck out onto the back porch to have a nice cigarette or two...or three...

They didn't teepee people in France? Wow. Well...you learn something new every day, I guess. Oh we damn Americans and our slang. "'Teepee' is when you take toilette paper and throw it on someone's house. The more rolls the better. They usually get stuck on the roof and stuff," Gabe explained casually.

His dark eyes followed Bailey as the dog wondered around the dark, damp cemetery. A thought struck him, so he decided to voice it out loud. "I didn't think any dogs survived the pandemic. I guess, like us, they have exceptions too." Gabe yawned towards the end of the sentence. He had no idea what time it was; his watch had run out of batteries and he didn't want to waste the precious little bit of battery that his iPod had left by looking at the time.