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Cali woke up a little while after she'd been assaulted by a tennis racket, in an area devoid of people. She got up slowly, clutching her surprisingly unscathed terracotta pot. She hadnt gotten it any food yet, but maybe if she was sentinent enough to talk and reason, other zombies would be too.

The thought struck Cali as she moved slowly around to the front of the school. She was a zombie. The living dead, a non survivor. Her sister would NEVER hug her again, and she would always have a gnawing hunger for fresh flesh.

"Hell...Hello?" She'd heard a greeting from somewhere off to the side, and figured from the guttural sound it was another zombie. Her voice was rough and deep, and surprised her when it came out of her throat. Her clothing was still dishevelled, her stomache burns exposed to the world and her red headband had so many holes in it it looked like lace.

She was sure her face was the worst though, the square cuts into her skin looking like scales, and the club had dented her neck a little. Damn humans.

"Oh! Hi." Good. Nothing pink here. Green, now green was a trustworthy color. The color of flora, plants, vegetables, zombies. Zombies were trustworthy. They wouldnt hit you with tennis rackets like nasty pink things."

The other girl didnt look familiar to Cali, but then again, it was hard to tell with everyone so dead looking. She slunk over to Leonette and sat down on the ground, putting her plant between her legs as she sat cross legged. It was fairly comfortable.

"I dont know if you've noticed this yet Leonette, but we're the living dead, still left sentient by the cruelty of whatever did this to us. The only thing that will satiate that hunger you feel is living human flesh." It was blunt, but at this point Calintha didnt care if she was socially awkward anymore. She was a mo'effin zombie, so who gave a rats a** anymore? "Delicious pink flesh, filled with coursing human blood." The sound of a heartbeat seemed to pound in her ears, and this phrase was more muttered to herself than anyone else.

"I'm Calintha, by the way. You can call me that or Cali, whichever you prefer." Maybe now she could actually make friends. It was ironic, really. She could only make friends with dead people.

As her unknown green companion, (Cali, was it now?), explained, Leonette felt a bit...shocked to say the least. Zombies? She was certainly hungry, but hardly for one's brains! There were much tastier bits. Like ears. And arms. And- Uh...well. Those certainly were zombie thoughts. Not normal human thoughts. Most certainly.

"Oh." Leonette stated, quite blankly. And by blankly, it might as well have been a direct 'oh-now-everything-makes-sense-but-not-really-why-both-arguing-with-it' quote. "So uh, Cali, um, have you been a zombie long? I-" Hearing her name, Leonette jerked, (well, as much as a stiff body could jerk was up fro debate), towards the one who recognized her. Cue a full on hug. "Marit! You-...You're a zombie as well it seems." besides being a bit charred and green, Marit seemed perfectly fine. "That is..good. I'd hate to have to eat a friend."

Waking up was a slow and awkward process. Her neck was broken and her face was a bit smashed, so the entire world now had a sort of odd tilt to it. Elle looked rather worse for the wear. And semi-pissed. Which might have been an effect of the whole face-partially-smashed thing. She gurgled out a breath as she sat up, consciousness returning, and with it, the hunger. ******** the hunger. She'd dealt with worse. Munchies. What always satisfied the munchies? Human flesh? Sounds good.

The stoner felt around with clawed hands, felt the half-rolled joint a few feet away. She brought it over to where she lay and lifted it in front of her face. Methodically, she finished rolling it, placed it between vicious, flesh-ripping teeth, fumbled around for a lighter, and took a long, slow drag into decaying lungs. It didn't even hurt. Still, the action was comforting, even if THC no longer bathed her brain, as no blood pumped through her collapsed veins. Her heart hadn't really taken that bullet very well, you see.

Elle sat up, throwing the half-spent J aside, to see a small gathering of girls nearby, all of them looking far too green to be healthy. She grunted and stood up, her broken neck wobbling a little bit, and walked over to the group nonchalantly. She wondered if it had been that easy for Micky to walk over to her and take her out. Elle knew she couldn't blame Micky for that. But she wasn't entirely rational. Zombies.

"Sup, girls? You all look kind of familiar. I'm Elle. Anyone else hungry?" she surveyed the group, having to turn her whole upper body since her neck was out of commission.

"The fire..." Wait. That was real? Blushing (or rather, not blushing, given the lack of blood flow), Leonette was almost embarrassed. She had thought it had been part of her dream! Her bad dream. That did explain the smell of smoke on her clothes and a bit of ash in her dreads, which would be a pain to wash out. But, she didn't need to wash anymore, did she? Being a zombie and all. Or, did zombies wash? If not, she still would. Undead or not, one had to at least TRY to be presentable. Or at least not smell to badly like the living dead, even if that is what you were.

"Uh, I was actually going to head to the cafeteria but if we're zombies....I don't think we'd find food there." She pondered things a bit. She didn't want to eat old classmates, but...she was hungry. "...Given our uh, new tastes, maybe we would be better off looking in classrooms and such for...survivors?" The whole phrase sounded a bit awkward. "...For being zombies, we don't match up to the movie stereotype. What with out sentience and all. Almost makes it difficult to stomach the idea we'll be eating former classmates." Almost being the key term.

(I guess we're not doing post order?)

Marit rolled her eyes, smacking her forehead in exasperation, "Noooo, like, Pneumonia," She made a hacking sound for emphasis, "Duh. What do I look like, a mob-boss?" No, she wasn't a mob boss, she was a zombie.

"Personally, I don't think it'll be that hard to stomach," She exclaimed with a knowing nod, winking at Leonette, "Pun intended. Maybe if it were you, but c'mon, half of them were jerks anyway. We'd be doing a service putting them out of commission." The weaponry was vaguely disconcerting, she hadn't run into anyone other than this group, human or otherwise, and it seemed like the living were packing heat.

Elle's idea was as good as any, she'd seen enough zombie movies to know the cowards always stayed behind--easy pickings. She crossed her arms, "If they're armed, why can't we be?" An unwritten Zombie code of honor? She figured if she could think it, she could do it, ain't no zombie codex keeping her from food.

It. Was. A. PUZZLE. Holy Christ on a cracker, leonette was now in her mode. Puzzle mode that is. Her brain was on the situation like is was a freaking puzzle. And even if it wasn't this was how she saw it and she was going to try to figure it out. The puzzle in question however?

'You are a zombie. You are hungry. The living are scattered and armed. WHAT DO YOU DO?'

Okay, so it was more like some backwards videogame scenario but in Leonette's zombified yet fully functioning brain, it was a puzzle god damn it. In looking at her surroundings, Leonette found the solution. Lifting the green hand-claw combo, she pointed to the nearby field. "Shovels, rakes, old broken bats...all in the field storage. And I bet that the locks aren't zombie proof." Her eyes went to the gym. "The gym storage has football gear and other protective wear. No doubt the living will want it. And so should we. Clawed or not..." Her eyes ran to Elle. "We aren't exactly stable. Being undead and all."

Was Leonette suggesting they grab some old tools for weapons then raid the gym for armor and potentially stake out said armor for food? Was she asserting herself?
Yes, yes she was.

"...I'm sorry. It's a dumb plan. I'm just really hungry is all. Sorry."

Maybe not so much asserting as suggesting. Close enough.