By the Water's Side || Melissa

[SILAS MITCHELL HAYES]

8.41am

Sunlight reflecting from the 'Bubble Wrap' aviator sunglasses that he had come across in his searches, Silas slowly waked along the water's edge, making his way into town. The water sloshed gently against the stonework below him, moved by the light winter wind in the air. It had been over a year and some months since the outbreak; Silas had found a calendar and marked the days as they passed. But the calendar had run out of months. Now Silas, like a prisoner, was simply chalking lines on the wall every time the sun set.

At first, it had been counting the days, trying to predict the arrival of help. But after several months, it was just simply to keep up with the season. They hadn't been forgotten, thought the optimistic Silas. The world was simply trying to gauge the best way to handle the situation. But even that hopeful thought was beginning to slowly diminish. Perhaps prisoner was a fitting term, after all; they were trapped with no way to go - unless someone wanted a nice, long swim in the Channel. But even then, who's to say there weren't armed patrols on the far shore to prevent the disease from spreading?

Stopping to look out into the water, he shook his head. It had once been bustling with boats, moving to and fro. Why had he had not simply jumped aboard one when the outbreak had started? Silas could have been back in Miami to warmer beaches... and Maria.

A sudden burst of wind knocked him back to his senses, and Silas continued moving on again, pulling his suit jacket tighter around himself. The backpack on his back sat softly, its only contents being cloth, his last piece of jerky, and a crowbar - the last of which jutted out, staying just within his reach.

Not that it really mattered, it seemed. The creepers rarely strayed so closely to the water, anyway - Silas supposed it was because there wasn't much food to be found. Once the boats were all gone, and people realized it, they tended to stay away from the water. It was similar to having your back against a wall, after all, and - unless you wanted to swim - one could easily have gotten cornered.

Silas took this path almost daily - just to reassure himself that there were no boats traveling through the Thames - when going deeper into the city. Running low on food, it was a trip of necessity. He had even took a long look at an unopened can of dog food; but that was a desperation that the former architect hadn't quite yet reached. And, hopefully, he never would.

Movement ahead brought him once again to his senses, making Silas's slow pace quicken as he rushed into a nearby alleyway to hide himself. Had it been a creeper? A raider? Silas hadn't taken long of enough look to tell; pausing too long could mean the difference between living to fight another day or being shot - mistaken for one of the undead. Ever so slowly, Silas - with his back pressed against the alley wall - peeked his head around the corner again.

[MELISSA FRANCIS CLARK]

[atrb=valign, top, true][atrb=cellpadding, 5, true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=cellspacing, 0, true][atrb=width, 400, true][atrb=border, 0, true] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -5px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px;][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style]

[atrb=style, text-align: justify; background: #191919; color: #787883; padding: 10px; border-radius: 0px 0px 20px 0px; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 10px 10px;][style=height: 302px; overflow: auto; padding: 4px;]Melissa had no problem facing the weather of London. She had lived in the city all of her life, and though she wished she knew it as well as she bragged she did, the weather was no surprise. She could creep through every part of the city without an overwhleming fear of what was to come. But things could often get testing, and people claimed that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again. So the blonde woman had taken it upon herself to do something different with her Scavenging. She did, after all, choose to follow the mantra 'do something you would never normally do'. And today she had chosen to take advantage of that mantra. So today, with elbow pads and knee pads firmly attached, Melissa had taken to roller skating. Her work was made much quicker, and her balance was not as terrible as she assumed it was going to be. She could make her way to and from buildings very quickly, and if anything lurched out to get her, it was easier to dodge. If it wasn't, it was easier to move quickly enough to get a good thwack at the poor dead person's head. A thwack with what, I hear you ask? Melissa's beloved crowbar, Ned. She had named it many months ago, and it was laden with cloth, serving as a decent grip for the slender woman. By the time the blonde woman had just about leeched a small newspaper stall dry of paper for fire and petty droplets of water, she was about to go on her way down the River Thames and onwards to better and bigger things. She rolled quite leisurely, with her bag hanging from her shoulder to her hip. Her mask hid her face, but there was surprise in the blue eyes behind the pale mask. Something awfully human like had scuttled into an alley and Melissa's curiosity throttled her and forced her onwards. The wheels on her shoes clicked over the uneven pavements and before long, she was hovering by the edge of the alley way. Her fingers, wrapped in woollen fingerless gloves, wiggled around her crowbar. Should there be a threat in front of her she wanted to be prepared. With a deep, nervous inhale, the blonde woman stepped into the alleyway. Light filtered in behind her, and though it was a cold light that had 'Winter' written all over it, it was there. She tried to take strength from that and hope she would find something good, instead of something bad. "Hello?" Melissa asked, forcing her voice to be strong. She took an approaching step forward, not using the wheels on her shoes for the time being.[/style]

[SILAS MITCHELL HAYES]

The figure moved with an abnormal speed and fluidity, without the need to properly step; it took a moment for Silas to realize that, upon on the person's feet, were wheels. With the wheels for added height, it was difficult to size up the person. How large were skates, anyhow? Silas had never been skating and had no way of knowing; though, quite ironically, he currently bore elbow and knees pads. They had proven useful for more than random spills on the pavement - providing a harder striking surface for anything that was too close to adequately swing his crowbar at.

Unfortunately, Silas took just a moment too long to withdraw back into the alley. The figure had seen him, it seemed; the pace and direction of the skater had changed, and now the person - who was donning a hockey mask - was making a beeline for the alleyway. Sliding further down the bricked alley, Silas pulled the crowbar from his backpack, holding it loosely at his side. Whoever it was, if they attempted to attack, he wouldn't stand by idly. But Silas would also not make the first strike. By no means was he the same kind of person as those who had raided his community months before, killing the people that he had lived with... that he had considered friends. But self-defense was not akin to murder.

As the person crossed in front of the alleyway opening, the sun at their back caused their shadow to stretch down the alleyway, enveloping Silas in darkness. The former architect swallowed back the feeling of been cornered and stood his ground. If this person wanted a fight, Silas was more than willing to bring it to...

"Hello?"

A mixture of relief and shock flooded Silas's veins. The voice was that of a girl - a much younger girl, perhaps college-aged? - and lacked almost any sort of animosity. Silas, holding his arms out to his side slightly - an act of non-hostility on his own part - slowly eased towards her, the confusion likely evident on his face. "Are you..." he started, stunned by someone so young managing to survive for so long on their own.

In the past year, Silas had come across about three dozen others, in total. He watched them all. The majority, he avoided - most bandits, some he couldn't determine. The few he had interacted with had been traders. There had been solitary individuals - and occasionally small groups of two or three - that had been all, that he had encountered. But everyone was - or, for all intents and purposes, looked - thirty at the very least. And, yet, here was this younger girl... skating. As if she didn't have a care in the world; as if they hadn't been isolated from the rest of it, living on a large island-country that just so happened to be infested with the waking dead. The sight, the idea being such an absurdity, actually brought a small laugh out of the man.

"How... how in the world are you still alive?" asked Silas, incredulously.

[MELISSA FRANCIS CLARK]

[atrb=valign, top, true][atrb=cellpadding, 5, true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=cellspacing, 0, true][atrb=width, 400, true][atrb=border, 0, true] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -5px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px;][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style]

[atrb=style, text-align: justify; background: #191919; color: #787883; padding: 10px; border-radius: 0px 0px 20px 0px; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 10px 10px;][style=height: 302px; overflow: auto; padding: 4px;]Had Melissa been any other person, she might have been offended by the laughter she heard as she came to a stop. Instead, though, she lifted and eyebrow and let out a breath of a laugh. She supposed she had just run into another crazy person, prone to laughing at strangers. Even that seemed a little far fetched. A slender hand came up, and though the other one continued to wield her weapon, she tousled the light tendrils of hair that escaped the band that kept her blonde hair back. She looked a little surprised at the reaction she had been given, but she thought it best not to linger on it. Besides, this shadow of a stranger was speaking to her now. Lowering her free hand, Melissa nodded her head, shifting her left foot from side to side as if she was stubbing out a cigarette. Her wheels ground against the paving beneath her. "Yeah, I'm alive," The blonde woman's voice was filled with pride, as if she was affirming his question before really answering it. Throughout this train of thought, she didn't let her guard down, and squeezed her crowbar periodically. "That, my friend, is a fabulous question. I'd be asking myself the same thing every other day if it weren't for the Safe Lands. Good place. Nice people." Melissa lifted her free hand again, giving the world a thumbs up. "Do you wanna come out from there? I'm not going to hurt you without a reason. Imagine it stinks in there. Ooh! And what if there's a zombie lurking in those rubbish bags?" The twenty two year old woman pointed her finger over the stranger's shoulder and beamed brightly, as if she had just figured out the ending to murder novel before the author made it obvious. Scratching at her chin briefly, Melissa wondered if her presence in the alley was daunting in anyway. Maybe it looked like she was blocking the exit. She looked quickly over her shoulder, and moved away from the mouth of the alley, and placed herself down on a nearby bench. She was in front of the alley and waved inwards, ankles crossed and a friendly smile on her face. Some people said Melissa was too trusting of strangers, but she thought it was best to try and find the friendships that glimmered briefly and nurture them into something much more fulfilling.[/style]

[SILAS MITCHELL HAYES]

With the sun to the young girl's back, Silas could no longer manage to tell that she was wearing the hockey mask, making her dark form look all the more intimidating. It must have been an odd sight for her - an older man who had taken shelter in the alley from her. But she tone was mostly care-free, as if she were just for a walk and was being polite. Easily, she was the friendliest person that he had encountered thus far, since the quarantine. And, if it weren't for her voice, Silas would've likely still deemed her a threat - if only because of the menacing appearance her silhouette was casting.

She came from the Safe Lands. The Safe Lands? Silas had heard the term before from a trader, he believed, but only in passing. He had assumed it was just a term for the far shore, the rest of Europe. Those would be safer lands, if not completely safe, hopefully. But this girl referenced it as if it was nonchalantly close, and there were people there; as in plural. It unnerved Silas a small bit; just how many people were living nearby, that he had yet to encounter?

It wasn't surprising that Silas hadn't found them. He stayed on the outskirts of London, only traveling for food and never very far for that. He had actually, single-handedly - at least, he thought - picked clean two full apartment complexes over the past year, and was only now moving further beyond those. There was no telling how much he had missed by staying in such a small area.

And that simply added to the uncomfortableness of the thought, the thought of so many unknown people living so closely to where he was. There was no telling the motivations of the people, nor their morals. Silas had had several encounters with bandits - one such leaving the him the sole survivor of his former community - and these people could be similar, if not the very same. One girl's good nature didn't necessarily speak for a dozen - or more - others.

The young girl invited him to leave the alleyway, backing away to allow him to do so. At her suggestion, however, Silas stopped and turned quickly to double-check for a stray creeper. He had taken shelter without properly searching, trying to avoid the girl who had found him regardless. This was making for an excellent day of mistakes. But it might all be for the better - came a small, hopeful voice from the back of Silas's mind.

Making his way from the alleyway, the former architect eased his gaze both to the left and right before approaching the girl, now seated and relaxing on the bench. Even so, Silas remained a good five strides away, keeping the distance. Still, if the woman meant any harm, he had been easily cornered just moments before. With this recognition, Silas reached behind him, returning the crowbar to his backpack. Perhaps he could relax somewhat as well.

"Safe Lands?" he repeated quietly, unsure of just what to ask as he straightened the jacket again - an involuntary response to another cold gust of window blowing through. A girl - cool and calm - from a place known as the "Safe Lands." It only brought one real question to mind: "Who are you, exactly?"

[MELISSA FRANCIS CLARK]

[atrb=valign, top, true][atrb=cellpadding, 5, true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=cellspacing, 0, true][atrb=width, 400, true][atrb=border, 0, true] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -5px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px;][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style]

[atrb=style, text-align: justify; background: #191919; color: #787883; padding: 10px; border-radius: 0px 0px 20px 0px; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 10px 10px;][style=height: 302px; overflow: auto; padding: 4px;]Melissa had a small, almost coy smile on her face as she watched the stranger in the alley emerging. He was appearing like a frightened deer, and quite rightfully so. The zombies had managed to do dreadful things to people, and for some reason people had released their inner, rotting cores to the world. Melissa didn't blame this stranger at all for approaching so wearily. Had she been a little more sensible she would have done the same upon spotting him. She often went home scolding herself for being too trusting when she got into situations that any reasonable person would have backed away from to begin with. Sitting up to right herself, Melissa placed her hockey mask in her lap and smiled a welcoming smile. Pale blonde hair fell about her face, and with a frustrated huff, she took the band she had used to hold her hair up, out, and redid the up-do she was so bad at doing. Her eyes momentarily strayed from the man as she did so, and from the sides she spotted a few shambling dead bodies bumping into the barrier that protected the living from drowning. They were far enough away that they hadn't spotted either of the two survivors, and at least for now she was reassured by this fact. Once her hair was as scruffy as ever, she slouched back and waved at the man that had appeared in front of her now. He was friendly enough, and considering he had just packed his weapon away, she couldn't complain. She would have done the same, if she wasn't painfully aware that this was the sanctuary that she cared for so deeply. She offered a half apologetic smile instead, and kept her weapon in her lap for the time being. It wasn't long until the man in front of him asked her a question. Or rather, two questions. She smiled brightly, and shrugged her shoulders. "That place in London filled with people that all work together. Like one big happy microcosm." And now, she thought to herself, onto his next question. "I am Melissa. I'm a Scavenger. You know, a supplies guy? I bring the bacon to keep everyone else going." Melissa's smile broke out in its full glory. She had been doing this job for a year now, having been one of the first in the Safe Lands, and she was proud of that. A thought came to her then, and she rubbed at her chin. "I guess that doesn't really make much sense to you, huh? Not calling you stupid, or anything. Ooh! Do you wanna visit? You wouldn't have to stay or anything." Smiled the blonde. Another part of her job, that she had given herself, was bringing in the people that she met in London. She didn't often invite a person to stay, but she always tried to get someone to at least visit. It was worth it, if it meant that the Safe Lands got to be seen by more people. It was a place of protection, and if word got round, maybe that would really be a beacon for people.[/style]

[SILAS MITCHELL HAYES]

As the younger woman removed her mask, Silas couldn't help but be surprised. The girl wasn't quite as young as he had anticipated; she had an older, more mature look about her. And, despite the warming smile and bright, blue eyes, there was a seriousness held deep within. But it was only natural - no one could have gone through this sort of hell for a year without it taking its toll. This girl should have been working her way through a university; instead, she was risking her life for supplies to sustain some kind of community.

Silas felt a knot beginning to form within his stomach. He'd had a community; people that looked to him, trusted him. They had held out for almost four months before the raiders came. After another month of guerrilla attacks, Silas was the only one in a promising enough condition to fetch supplies. But shortly after, he returned to find them all decapitated. Had it been his fault? Had he brought that on them, could he have stopped it? They were questions that plagued his mind daily.

The woman introduced herself: Melissa. But without even hesitating to learn his name, she extended him an invitation to the Safe Lands. A small chill shot through Silas's spine, completely unrelated to the cool, winter air. What if they weren't raiders, but survivors like his original community? The idea of being responsible for the failure of two groups... the knot tightened a bit more.

The girl - Melissa - was nice. Silas was slowly considering that she may be trustworthy, even. And if her friends were like her, he didn't want to bring that burden to them - having them rely on him, only to fail them, bringing more death. He had survived in the streets for a year; more than half of that on his lonesome.

But still, these were people he could trade with - supplies, weapons, food. It wouldn't hurt to at least know where to find it, if need be, would it?

"Sure," Silas said, nodding his head, still not fully certain what he was agreeing to with her hurried and excited explanation. "I wouldn't mind visiting, if only just this once." And, after another beat, he added, "I'm Silas, by the way. Pleasure to meet you."

[MELISSA FRANCIS CLARK]

[atrb=valign, top, true][atrb=cellpadding, 5, true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=cellspacing, 0, true][atrb=width, 400, true][atrb=border, 0, true] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -5px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px;][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style]

[atrb=style, text-align: justify; background: #191919; color: #787883; padding: 10px; border-radius: 0px 0px 20px 0px; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 10px 10px;][style=height: 302px; overflow: auto; padding: 4px;]Melissa's eyes lit up in delight at the agreement to a trip to the Safe Lands. She sprang up, much like any coiled spring and balanced uneasily on her skates. She yanked up her items and tucked her mask onto her face again. "Sorry 'bout this! Just protecting my identity. Like your every day super hero," Melissa smiled brightly. She was telling the truth. A few survivors had been recognised in the Safe Lands by Bandits, and had effectively lured trouble to the front door. Melissa brought trouble home from time to time, and didn't want to be bringing in any more than she happened to by accident. With her things on her shoulder, Melissa hoisted Ned from hand to hand, and began to loop slow circles around Silas. He had introduced himself now, and as she came to a slow (having gained enough momentum to keep her going) she extended her hand. "Nice to meet you too, Silas!" Her hand wavered in the air for a brief few moments, before it dropped after it was or was not shaken. She smiled warmly regardless, and let her wheels take her forward, before she backtracked. "What were you doing out here, mate?" Melissa asked after a moment, voice laden with curiosity. She liked to know what people were up to. "Oh! We shouldn't hang around here too long. It's like the main street for bad guys, I hear. C'mon, it's this way." Having been doing this job for so long Mel knew a lot of the streets like the back of her hand. Not to mention she had lived in the city before the zombie outbreak. Being a Londoner was a useful talent, she thought, as she rolled her way down the street. They weren't too far, she figured. Melissa smiled an approachable, though hidden, smile, and skated her way to one of the zombies she had spotted earlier. One was leaning over the barrier, which made it easier for her to push the poor guy into the water. She had been desensitized after so long, but that didn't mean that she was careless. She wasn't going to let a zombie in her path go on its way if it was offering her a way to get rid of it. Her smile remained in place, and even if it couldn't be seen, it was there. "So! Tell me about yourself. We need something to talk about on this journey. How old are you?" Melissa wasn't one for gauging information, but she liked this guy. He wasn't all that threatening, more inquisitive. She breathed a laugh and hopped over a discarded intestine lathered on the paving stones. Another zombie drew up ahead, but she wasn't in range to do anything about it. "And how come you haven't heard of the Safe Lands? I thought everyone would have heard of it by now, at least."[/style]

[SILAS MITCHELL HAYES]

Silas stiffened slightly as the girl rose once again from the bench, making a quick circle around him. But when Melissa extended a hand to him, he shook it without hesitation. The younger woman, as eccentric as she was, meant well, he decided. And if she were going to be friendly - joyful, even - he should reciprocate. If she were willing to trust him, Silas would put aside his doubts. After withdrawing his hand, Melissa gave a smile and asked his business out in the streets.

Before Silas could even think to respond, however, she cut him off. This was apparently not the best part of town, in regards to raiders - something that made him question what she was doing here as well, and why she was so quick to be friendly towards him. Silas just wrote it off to her eccentric nature and the fact that he had put away his weapon. Without a further word, Melissa began to skate away, and Silas quickly pursued her. Her skates provided her with a quickness which pushed the former architect to a healthy jog, in order to keep the distance between them from growing. Perhaps learning to skate wasn't a bad idea, Silas noted.

As the two continued on through the alley and streets, Melissa continued her questions. Finally finding a moment in which to interject his answers, Silas stated, "Well, I'm thirty-sev... thirty-eight." The man gave a breathy laugh, still jogging to keep in pace; age wasn't something that seemed to matter any longer here. No one had asked him about it in well over a year, hence his mistake in recalling it. "I was out and about, looking for food. I'm running out, and... I can't say I've really gotten out of my quaint little place all that much - safety hazard to leave your home now, if you hadn't noticed."

Silas's final comment was in regards to why he hadn't heard of the Safe Lands, with an attempt to spin some humor into it. He managed to even crack a smile as he spoke. "I tried to stay on the outskirts of the city. Figured the creeper count would be higher inside, so haven't really tried exploring or moving around too often. Just been waiting to hear the call that the military's here and that it's all over."

"But it's safe? Actually safe?" asked Silas, though not quite eagerly. He had made his decision; safe or not, it wasn't a place he would be taking up residency in any time soon. Not to mention - it had sounded as if that was a lot of people to trust. And aside from a reliable trader or two - and now Melissa - Silas couldn't honestly say he trusted anyone. He had witnessed far too many horrors carried out by the living; and they could just as easily turn out to be the same as the raiders from his old community. Arguably, the living were as dangerous, if not more so, than the undead. "How long have you been apart of these... Safe Grounds?"

[MELISSA FRANCIS CLARK]

[atrb=valign, top, true][atrb=cellpadding, 5, true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=cellspacing, 0, true][atrb=width, 400, true][atrb=border, 0, true] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -5px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px;][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style]

[atrb=style, text-align: justify; background: #191919; color: #787883; padding: 10px; border-radius: 0px 0px 20px 0px; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 10px 10px;][style=height: 302px; overflow: auto; padding: 4px;]Melissa smiled appreciatively as the man shook her hand. That was a sign of trust, and also something she appreciated. No matter how friendly she could be, there was always a small egg of worry that she couldn't trust who she was escorting. But Silas seemed to be willing to disprove the stereotype of the typical stranger. She squeezed his hand when it was in hers, but moments later it was gone. Melissa adjusted herself slightly, and slowed to let Silas keep up without puffing himself out. The last thing she needed was for him to be red faced and out of breath when they had a bit of a walk ahead of them. Her movements looked a little more sluggish, but she was comfortable enough. Smearing her hand over her mask as if she was wiping sweat from her forehead, Melissa twisted her crowbar in her hand. It felt good to have something she could protect herself with, and she still couldn't get over the fact that she had met a Scavenger that had gone into London completely unprepared. She grimaced beneath her mask, and shook it off briskly. "Thirty eight, huh? I'm only twenty two. Had my birthday back in October. It was weird," Melissa smiled wistfully beneath her mask, she had just made plans for her life, and here she was, fighting the undead with no plans for the future. "Food, huh? That's rough. We've got some going spare, ish, if you want some." Melissa had received a few scoldings for handing out food, but she was sure she could hand out maybe one, two tins of dog food. No big deal, right? Right. "You and me," Melissa pointed between the two of them. "We're very different people." She laughed briefly. "I've always enjoyed getting into the city. It's scary, yeah, but it's so... Interesting, exploring buildings, piecing the lives of people back together..." She shook her head and let out an ecstatic sigh. She shrugged, and the blonde took a turn to the right. "I've always enjoyed exploring, even as a kid." Two thin shoulders bounced in a relaxed shrug. "There was one break in, but the fatalities were minor," her voice had warped, much more serious. It was quiet for a moment, then she continued. "Safe as I've seen. I've been there since the beginning really. Ran for it when I could, I couldn't handle being in my flat much longer." Melissa laughed lightly. "Anything else you wanna tell me, or ask me?"[/style]

[SILAS MITCHELL HAYES]

As Melissa eased her pace, allowing him to ease his own, Silas looked warily around the city. He still recognized where they were; they were crossing a route that his taxi had taken to the cathedral he had been overseeing. Though it was a year ago, they had been down this particular road nearly everyday for six weeks. Perhaps he would be able to find his way back to the Shop - what he called the Tool Shop, the hardware store he held up in - after reaching the Safe Lands. Surely it couldn't be all that far, if Melissa had willingly traveled all this way on her lonesome.

After all, she was only...twenty-two. Silas nearly whistled at the young woman's answer; not as a means of flirting, but out of simple surprise over her age. Even if she had found a group and it had aided in her survival, Melissa was still out and about, exploring... all by herself. She gave justification for her exploration, and even hinted that she was adventurous, noting that she and the former architect weren't quite on the same page in that regard.

Silas wouldn't call himself adventurous by any means; but Melissa had brought a good point to mind: what would best honor the fallen than to let their memory know what good their belongings had served in keeping others alive? An amusing image of Silas finding skates in an abandoned home, only to slip and fall on the pavement, came to mind. It brought a grin to his face, but he remained silent on the topic.

At the offer of food, however, Silas felt his own stomach growl with anticipation over something that might resemble a real meal. He chuckled at the sound. "I'd be willing to trade for it, but... I can't say I have much. A lighter, a pack of cards... can't remember what else. I'm not looking to be a free-loader or anything," he said, shifting the backpack straps on his shoulders. Kindness was one thing, but he didn't wish to be seen as a person looking for handouts.

Melissa continued on, answering his questions - the Safe Lands had been broken into; by bandits or creepers, she didn't say. But it confirmed Silas's thoughts: no place was truly safe, as long as the were still within the quarantined zone. Sure, the former architect may be safer with the group - if they were all to be trusted to begin with - but would they truly be better off with him there? A bitter voice in the back of Silas's mind simply whispered no.

"Not much else comes to mind... 'cept, you sure that no one's going to mind me poking around with you? I mean, you just met me, after all. For all you know, I could easily be..." A thief. A murderer. A rapist. Psychotic. Silas trailed off, allowing Melissa to complete the sentence with her own imagination. "No one's going to have an issue with that?"

[MELISSA FRANCIS CLARK]

[atrb=valign, top, true][atrb=cellpadding, 5, true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=cellspacing, 0, true][atrb=width, 400, true][atrb=border, 0, true] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -5px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px;][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style] [style=border: 7px solid #191919; width: 80px; height: 80px; margin-top: -7px; -moz-border-radius: 5px 5px 5px 5px][/style]

[atrb=style, text-align: justify; background: #191919; color: #787883; padding: 10px; border-radius: 0px 0px 20px 0px; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 10px 10px;][style=height: 302px; overflow: auto; padding: 4px;]Melissa felt a slight smile tug at her lips as she spoke about food, and in turn head Silas, in a round about way, agree to having some. Whether he exchanged something or not for it wasn't of concern to her. It was her job to go out and find food, and she was confident that with the Safe Lands growing its own produce and the still heaving warehouses in London filled with long lasting food she would be able to refill whatever was taken without much trouble. Even if she didn't there was no doubt in her mind that some other Scavenger would do that in no time. Melissa let that smile grow, and even though it remained hidden behind her mask, it was there. "Don't worry about it, mate. No one is going to think of you as a free loader." A fleeting pause, and then she continued. "Although, a lighter is going to get you far in the Safe Lands. We have cigarettes and stuff," another pause as the young blonde carefully avoided a crack in the paving slabs. "You know, a lot of people turned to smoking. Anyway, we have cigarettes, but not many lighters, and matches are squandered." Melissa explained, quite happy to speak of what they did and didn't have. It didn't occur to her that she could have been giving a bandit an inventory of the Safe Lands, but the scruffy guy seemed trust worthy enough. And besides, he was just one guy, right? ...That was a thought. "So are you on your own or..?" Melissa had assumed that he was, but she had been wrong many times before. You'd think she'd learn by now. The twenty two year old scrap of a woman avoided some more debris on the pavement before the two survivors. Skates were fabulous, and efficient, but some of the smallest obstacles were able to floor you. Unless you knew how to jump over them, it was easy to fall - perhaps to your death if you were in the wrong situation. Or even if you took a nasty fall, you could hurt yourself pretty easily. The usually absent minded Melissa tried her hardest to steer clear of falling, which was obvious enough in the precaution she took when she moved. She wasn't as dizzy as people made her out to be. Glancing up from eyeing the ground of anything dangerous, Melissa smacked her thin lips at the question that was posed to her. "Not everyone is going to love a stranger, mate. I'll be honest with you on that one. No one is going to hurt you though, I'm pretty sure at least. Anyway, people come and go every day or so. You've got a chance with the Safe Lands, pose a threat or something and you won't get that chance again. That's how I see it, anyway." Melissa smiled brazenly, and squeezed her crowbar for reassurance. "Nervous about seeing so many other people?" Asked the blonde quite casually, throwing the question in the air between them, she offered him a glance, and lifted her mask upwards to wait for his answer. There was no one around right now, she could risk it. [/style]