Welcome to Gaia! ::

Yǐn Cáng could not help waking up each morning and before he ever opened his eyes, checking that he was a male. Just a tentative but quick pat of his wonderfully firm chest and he was up and ready to start the day. But today as he went through his daily routines of exercise something was bothering him. It bothered him the entire day until after everything was finished in the afternoon he found himself lurking around the Undead dorms, looking for a certain zomboil.

What was rather unusual about this was that it was not a white-haired zomboil he was looking for. In fact, it was a zomboil he barely knew. He was fairly certain that his name was Mort, and his friends seemed to think that he was okay to be around. But Yin never would have never sought him out if it had not been for the questions that had been plaguing him since he had woken up.

Passing the time lurking around the dorms was slightly boring however, and Yin (as usual) had energy to burn, so he began using a tree as practice. Today he decided to strike as quickly but light as he could, just feather touches to work on his control as he went through his repertoire of moves.

Yin had just executed a rather perfect side kick when something delightful smelling perfumed the air. He paused, breathing in deeply through his nose and then there was a sniffing noise that did not come from him. Looking down he found the object of that delicious smell, that was sadly attached to a leash. A pet, not dinner then.

But the voice attached to the leash sounded familiar and he looked up to see the same spectacled boil that had been seeking. "It is alright," he answered calmly, knowing fully well how little effort it would take to kill the creature if it became an actual nuisance. "She likely can smell Princess Eva on me." Or maybe he actually smelled that interesting to a minipet, who really knew.

"I was actually looking for you," he confessed, reaching down tentatively to pat the creature lightly on the head, trying to be mindful of his clawed fingers. "Your name is Mort, is that correct?" He straightened up to hold out his hand, ready to go through the peculiar ritual hand-shaking that he had run across while at Amityville.

Yin put his hand down, somewhat glad he did not have to complete the ritual. It was so bizarre to stand around shaking people, even if it was just their hand. "I am Yǐn Cáng." The zomboil in front of him seemed to be giving him a confused look, and why should he not? Yin had basically just been lurking around for him to appear. Not that that was weird or anything.

"I actually had a few questions I thought you might be able to assist me with. I have a friend I believe you know? He is a zomboil like yourself, Alexander." He gestured somewhere above his head at about the height of the boil in question, "tall enough to appear that he forgot to stop growing..." He trailed off, struggling to think of how to frame his question. It was probably incredibly insensitive for him to even approach Mort in this way, but he had very little choices on the matter. Unless he asked Alexander, but he did not want his friend to worry about him the entire trip, effectively ruining his nice trip home.

"I apologize if this is improper or rude, and of course you do not have to answer anything. It is simply that I am supposed to go to Alexander's family home in the near future, and I know very little about zombies. I was wondering if there was anything I should know about them, I do not wish to offend anyone."

It sounded so odd that zombies could choose when to grow themselves, and yet again Yin began to reflect on how useful the ability could be. He was probably just a touch taller than the boil facing him, if he straightened up, but the zomboil could easily change that if he so desired. But there was no time to think of that now, and it was nothing that he could change.

Rez'd? The word was somewhat unfamiliar to the mantodae. Perhaps "rez'd" was the zombie term for those born of human fear. He frowned, trying to think if Alexander had ever actually passed on such information. "I am not certain, though I know he has a mother and a family, so it is likely that he was born in Halloween." He felt pretty good about his assumption, not that he would actually ask the white-haired boil when he saw him again if he had been correct. Such an intrusive question was most certainly rude.

But what Mort was telling him seemed to easy. "So as long as there is no fire I should be fine? There are no greeting rituals or words or subjects I should not mention?" He felt slightly guilty at the onslaught of questions, but not only was there a family involved but there was a mother. He had never met a real mother figure before, and she seemed to be close to her son. He already owed the zomboil far too many debts to make some silly mistake with his mother.

The small bit of fluff at his feet seemed to be ridiculously interested in toes. It was not always good for animals to show interested in things that they might relate with food, so Yin crouched down and patted her hesitantly, hoping that it would distract her from his feet. She felt so...so delicious. Er...soft. He meant soft.

He was a bit disappointed that the boil seemed fairly unsure of any advice to give him, but he needed to know more. Yin began racking his brain, which was something that all zombies may have been able to bond over, before coming to a sudden and terrible revelation.

He had no idea.

It was his best friend's family, he was supposed to go visit their family home, and he did not have a clue about them other than that yes, Alexander did have a mother. "He...he called his family a horde?" he said hesitantly, not actually sure if that helped anything.

Three...sisters? Sisters are...sisters are ghouls right? He did not tell me that he had sisters. His mom and three sisters thats...1...2......that is a lot. That is a lot of ghouls. Lots of ghouls. Lots of ghouls. He tried not to whimper at the thought as he absentmindedly petted the foxfire, the blood completely drained from his face. Maybe they were at school too...different schools. Were there different schools? So many ghouls.

"He likes to read? And he's kindof slow..." he managed to squeak out, unable to really think of anything else. So many ghouls. Why did he not warn me? Oh Great Mantis is it a trap? Why so many ghouls?

Expect slow zombies...well that was a good thing. That meant that he could probably outrun the ghouls if necessary. And that was what he focused on. That and petting this little ball of fluff that seemed perfectly content to let him pet her for eternity.

He glanced up the boil, and shook is head. "I am fine." But he did feel rather weak, not exactly a pleasant feeling for him. "It is simply that...that is a large number of ghouls. I had not expected so many,"

Oh Great Mantis if they were hungry for brains. If he was the only non-zombie and there were ghouls and they were hungry for his brains...

If one strained hard enough they might have been able to hear his brain short-circuiting.

"Perhaps," he said, giving Mort a fearful look, voice filled with stress, "perhaps I should cancel this trip. Would it offend a zombie horde if I canceled my visit?"