For her part, Ami mostly stays hidden, talking into her comm in hushed tones. The first time she peeks out from behind the shed, though, she finds him just ... sitting there. Weird, but she's not complaining. It means she's safe for the time being.
At least Pratt seems to know what's up. The good news: this isn't permanent. It's something he can be snapped out of. Which is a huge relief. Carlisle hasn't been turned into a zombie, he's just acting like one, and that's way easier to deal with. She was kind of avoiding the whole "my new friend is dead" issue in her head anyway, and now she will definitely never have to deal with it again in the next five minutes.
The bad news: the second time she looks, Carlisle's back on the move. And he's heading in her general direction.
She doesn't really notice the lack of decay at his feet, nor the fact that he's walking like a normal person rather than a shambling corpse. For the moment, she's just concerned with staying out of sight. She has to duck around another corner of the shed, but it works; it doesn't look like he noticed her.
It does look like he noticed the chickens, though. And the poor stupid birds, not knowing any better, are going right up to the fence to say hi. Pratt tells her in no uncertain terms to stay away, he's almost there, they're just fucking chickens - but it's at about that moment that Carlisle takes off his mask.
Ami has never seen him without that mask before. Naturally, she's always been curious, but she sort of chalked it up to being a religious thing. Right now, though, none of that occurs to her.
She just sees teeth.
In that moment, seeing his bare teeth exposed by the giant hole in his face, and another empty gap where his nose ought to be - he looks totally unfamiliar. He doesn't resemble her friend Carlisle at all. She sees teeth, and it's all too easy to imagine them taking chunks out of poor Henrietta, or Cluckasaurus, or Drumstick, or Mister Rogers in his little sweater...
No way. No way is she going to just stand here and watch a zombie eat these poor unsuspecting chickens alive.
Too bad we don't have any of those coily vines from his world to grab him by the ankles...
Ami's got something coily, though. And it could be just the thing she needs to stay out of his reach. She mutes Pratt, but leaves the mic on, just in case - then bursts out from her hiding place, whip drawn.
"Hey!" she shouts at the top of her lungs. "Forget about someone your own size!?"
Okay so she may have fucked up the one-liner there but too late, she's coming in for the attack! Black inches fly true, the whip wraps around his ankle, and Ami yanks it back for all she's worth, hoping to pull his foot out from under him.
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At least Pratt seems to know what's up. The good news: this isn't permanent. It's something he can be snapped out of. Which is a huge relief. Carlisle hasn't been turned into a zombie, he's just acting like one, and that's way easier to deal with. She was kind of avoiding the whole "my new friend is dead" issue in her head anyway, and now she will definitely never have to deal with it again in the next five minutes.
The bad news: the second time she looks, Carlisle's back on the move. And he's heading in her general direction.
She doesn't really notice the lack of decay at his feet, nor the fact that he's walking like a normal person rather than a shambling corpse. For the moment, she's just concerned with staying out of sight. She has to duck around another corner of the shed, but it works; it doesn't look like he noticed her.
It does look like he noticed the chickens, though. And the poor stupid birds, not knowing any better, are going right up to the fence to say hi. Pratt tells her in no uncertain terms to stay away, he's almost there, they're just fucking chickens - but it's at about that moment that Carlisle takes off his mask.
Ami has never seen him without that mask before. Naturally, she's always been curious, but she sort of chalked it up to being a religious thing. Right now, though, none of that occurs to her.
She just sees teeth.
In that moment, seeing his bare teeth exposed by the giant hole in his face, and another empty gap where his nose ought to be - he looks totally unfamiliar. He doesn't resemble her friend Carlisle at all. She sees teeth, and it's all too easy to imagine them taking chunks out of poor Henrietta, or Cluckasaurus, or Drumstick, or Mister Rogers in his little sweater...
No way. No way is she going to just stand here and watch a zombie eat these poor unsuspecting chickens alive.
Too bad we don't have any of those coily vines from his world to grab him by the ankles...
Ami's got something coily, though. And it could be just the thing she needs to stay out of his reach. She mutes Pratt, but leaves the mic on, just in case - then bursts out from her hiding place, whip drawn.
"Hey!" she shouts at the top of her lungs. "Forget about someone your own size!?"
Okay so she may have fucked up the one-liner there but too late, she's coming in for the attack! Black inches fly true, the whip wraps around his ankle, and Ami yanks it back for all she's worth, hoping to pull his foot out from under him.
... Wait, no, not like that-