• It was a normal day in the nearly-deserted Arizona town Alystir lived in. Brains in the morning, roaming around aimlessly in search for more brains the rest of the day. He'd decided to take a break in the mid-afternoon, dropping down to sit without grace on the curb of a street crowded with cars filled with still corpses. Elbows rested on his knees, his chin settling in his hands. Alystir was a well-managed zombie, eternally around nineteen. The others usually just let themselves go after a couple years, but he was determined to look his best. He was dressed in a pair of blue jeans with holes in the knees, heavy black boots, and a black mesh shirt. Spiked bracelets and a matching spiked collar added accents he thought were just cool and fitting for a zombie. Though his skin was pallid and grey, he took care of it, keeping it soft with lotion. There was the situation with his right arm, where the lower half had the flesh removed by wild dogs, but he just decided in the end it added character. His black hair was moppy and fell over his face often, streaked with pink. Yellowed eyes were lined with kohl, his lips glossed with cherry flavored lip gloss. He was admittedly the gayest zombie ever.

    Alystir was sitting for several minutes before he could smell living blood and lifted his head, sniffing at the air. Blinking, he canted his head. Usually the livings cowered in their various hiding spots and didn't venture out. They usually picked super markets, where they could fortify themselves and have a limited food supply. It was really annoying trying to get to them. Letting out a little groan as he pushed himself to his feet, he weaved his way between stilled cars baking in the sun until he found a living boy doing the same. He had to admit the boy was impressive. Around his height of five foot eight, only the boy had beautiful blonde hair that caught the sunlight and turned it a brilliant gold, reaching past his shoulders. His eyes were blue and doe-like, and he was dressed in a pair of suit pants and a black button-down shirt. A pair of librarian-looking glasses were perched upon his nose. His face otherwise was rather cherubic-looking and Alystir couldn't help but feel a bit of attraction stir inside as he looked at him and the boy took notice, looking back.

    Alystir was afraid at first the boy would run, but was surprised when he smiled and waved to him. Confused, he looked over his shoulder as if expecting to see someone else standing there, but no, they were the only two on that great wide road. Usually livings weren't so happy to see his kind. It made him wonder absently what the boy's motives were.

    "Hey! You're a zombie, aren't you?!" The boy called to him cheerfully.

    Perplexed still but growing more interested by the minute, Alystir replied. "Last I checked." As if the answer weren't obvious.

    Alystir started growing nervous when the boy approached him. He could smell his pounding blood stronger now, along with the smell of his cologne and shampoo. His teeth were starting to ache from want to bite, but he suppressed it as well as he could. Fortunately he couldn't smell gunpowder however, so the most of his worries was not biting the poor thing's head off. "If you promise not to eat my brains, I'll take you someplace good." The boy settled his hand against Alystir's arm and it felt like fire against his skin, the warmth of it.

    "I'll promise to do my best.. But if you take me to some zombie concentration camp or something, your brains are in my belly." Alystir smiled with his feeble joke, though he was starting to get a headache.

    "Good enough for me." The boy took ahold of his wrist and started pulling him toward a white van he could see parked ahead, past the congested traffic. "My name is Liam, by the way."

    "Alystir." Alystir replied. He had a feeling he was going to both love and hate Liam by the time the day was done.