Definetly not Playschool anymore

Who: Owen and Addison
When: Morning
Where: Park Road

To say that Owen was terrified would be an understatement. He hadn't put Clarkson down the night before and hadn't slept much, sitting in his doorway with what equated to a baseball bat close at hand, cradling the bird against his chest and watching the street. He'd been freezing, and when he'd drifted off to sleep without realising it, he'd woken up with a start, abjectly horrified at the idea of being locked inside his house.

So, this morning, he looked like warmed up death on a stick, which suited him just fine. He was heading up towards the park, to see if there was anywhere he could find to pitch a tent or something. He'd sleep with the tent flap open, he didn't care. He didn't know anyone in town well enough to ask to stay with them, even though there was nothing he'd like more than to find someone and keep them around. Clarkson was using the crook of his arm as a perch, huddled down against his jacket, so he covered her with his other hand, gloved fingers a little clumsy and nearly getting himself bitten for his trouble.

Addison was hauling her own things back to the house she was given. Food wasn't the first priority for her - what was the point of food when you never knew if you had to defend yourself against... god, anything? Now she had a heavy-duty flashlight clipped to her belt, next to some sharp tool that wasn't a screwdriver, but she didn't know what it was. Tools weren't exactly things she'd ever used on a regular basis. Besides that, she had a wooden-handled broom that she intended on breaking, and a pair of electrical gloves that she intended on cutting up and putting on the end of the broken broom handle. That way it'd be perfect for turning on lights and things. And there was a variety of other random bits and pieces she'd deemed useful when she went to raid the hardware store for herself.

Owen hadn't expected to see anyone out and about, really, nor was he paying that much attention. However, seeing a girl (Woman? Whatever) hauling around a bunch of crap at this time of the morning had him a little intrigued. Patting Clarkson on the back quietly, he frowned, gathering his nerve for a moment before going to call out to her, hoping he wasn't going to get that broom in his face for his trouble.

"Uh, hello?"

Addison swung to face him, freezing completely, and looking him over. It was almostly like watching someone read a book - you could see her eyes tracking back and forth across his form. She clutched a handful of sketchbooks to her chest, and her hand gripped around the broom handle again, the bag on the end swinging slightly at the movement. Her eyes narrowed a little, and Addison didn't answer.

Owen stepped back a little in surprise, but mostly in self defence. He covered Clarkson with a hand, the parrot biting his side in protest, so Owen twitched and made an odd noise at the back of his throat, hunching in on himself a little.

"Sorry, sorry. Uh. Hi. Please don't brain me with your broom?"

Addison hesitated and took a step backwards, relaxing just enough to indicate that she probably wouldn't suddenly break the broom over his head.

Smiling at her, Owen wondered just why she wasn't saying anything. Then again, maybe something'd happened? Or she just didn't talk. Something along those lines. Swallowing, he shifted his grip on his bird, taking the hand off her back and running it through his hair, fingers spasming a little with the motion.

"Sorry. I'm Owen. I, uh-." Well, now what was he supposed to say?

"Did you need some help?"

Addison hesitated again, holding those books just a little closer to her. Then she shook her head slowly. There wasn't a reason to accept his help when she didn't need it, and she didn't know him, anyway.

Shrugging, Owen worried at the inside of his lip for a moment, a nervous habit he'd fallen back into. It'd probably scar, but he couldn't make himself care.

"Alright." He didn't mean to make it sound like he was making a concession, but it did, so he winced at himself and sighed softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose with the heel of a hand, ears a little red.

"Uh, are you new here?" And wow, didn't that sound desperate. God damn it.

Addison nodded, thought for a moment, then pulled a handful of roaddust, broken leaves, and pubbles from the gutter, and on the sidewalk she made the letter 'B' out of the random materials. It was the best she could do when she didn't have anything to write with or on.

It took him a moment to place what the hell she was talking about? B? What the hell was that? Frowning softly, he just blinked when it came to him, mentally smacking himself in the forehead.

"Oh, Experiment B? I was C." Great. She didn't talk. Okay.

"Just arrived today?"

Addison nodded, then flipped around her sketchbooks - not opening them, but her name was written on the front. She pointed to the small, neat print until she was sure he'd read it, then crouched back down and swept the impromptu writing back into the gutter where it belonged.

She was an artist? Cool. Swallowing, he fought down the urge to just get the hell out of there. He had no idea how to deal with someone this damaged, and his social skills were rather lacking, but it didn't mean he couldn't try.

"Addison right? Nice to meet you." He said, trying for a smile. It looked better than the half-grimace he'd had yesterday, so.

Addison nodded a little, wiping her hand on her jeans unconciously while she watched him. She was, in actuality, of the same opinion. He was nervous. Flighty. If she tried, she could easily imagine him with sweat running down his face in panic. She didn't know how to deal with him at all. Addison didn't offer her hand to shake, but she did try her own version of a smile in return, which wasn't much of one.

Shrugging, Owen fought down the twisting in his gut, adjusting his arm so Clarkson wasn't going to get suffocated. The bird was burrowing against his side, like she had in the room, way back when. Was it only a couple of weeks ago? Fuck.

"Uhm. I-. Sorry." He said, his half hearted attempt at apologising aborted when he couldn't figure out what he was apologising for. Natural instinct, maybe.

"If you just got here today, there's something you should know. It-. Uh. The buildings were boarded up yesterday. Everyone left. The houses were the only things left open, and the electricity was out." It all came out in a rush, like it was both painful and a relief to tell someone. To admit that it had happened at all.

She blinked twice, and then apparently Addison got what he was saying. Her eyes widened fractionally, and her nostrils flared like she was trying to tamp down on a panic response. Mostly because she was. She actually took her eyes off of him and started scanning the surroundings, and she held the books and the broom with the bag tied to it closer to her. And still the only thing that went through her head with any coherency was a quote from the Mortal Kombat game. Round two. FIGHT!

Addison snapped back to Owen and nodded, acknowledging the information - she'd thank him if she could. That was a good thing to know, right there.

It wouldn't have been fair, leaving her without letting her know what was going on. Her reaction was instantaneous, and he watched it from the outside, strangely detached. Was that was he looked like? When he was scared? Nah, if it was him, there'd have been more uncoordinated flailing.

Swallowing, he shrugged, shifting his grip on his bird, making sure that the animal wasn't crushed against his side.

"If you can, get to a place where there's more people. If there's someone from your experiment that you know, at least."

Addi bit her bottom lip and nodded. People weren't good, but they were better than the alternative sometimes. She glanced towards the direction of the house she'd been given, and then back to Owen, where she nodded again. And offered a little salute in acknowledgement.

Owen couldn't help but grin at the salute, because it was the friendliest thing he'd seen in a couple of days. If he'd actually stopped to think about it, he would have been a little disappointed in himself. But he didn't, so he sketched a short bow, careful not to hurt Clarkson, or to present the back of his neck to the girl. He wasn't looking foward to getting himself brained.

"Make sure you can get out of the house, okay?" He said, just as a general warning. He knew he was being a little anxious, but he didn't like the idea of anyone being locked inside, let alone it happening to him.