#1
"I guess that's as good a reason as any. Ain't much to do nowadays besides hope and live, and sometimes eat. I heard they got a bitchin' burger place up out there anyway," Metro said, laughing at the almost too-real scent of sizzling meat pervading his nose. He knew it wasn't real, but the guy would eat a human burger right now if it meant hot meat. He dozed into a waking dream where hotdogs and burgers and steaks slapped him around and the greasy juices were falling like rain and there was all so much and it tasted so nice until a steak hit him and he fell and he couldn't get above the rising tide and a hot dog slapped him and the meat layered the surface like an oil slick and he couldn't get his head above the surface and he was so desperate for air and he could see the black leaking into his peripheral and he blinked. He could breath. It was a day-dream. They had been getting worse. He didn't know if that was okay or not.
He glanced back at Ellie and caught her stuck for words with her cheeks flushing with blood. How adorable. Metro gave a heartily laugh. "Sorry about that, I just can't keep my charm under control, y'know?" he commented sarcastically. The sudden yell frightened him. He would've shit himself if the shit wasn't already layered on in the centimetres after much too long without a change. How is balls hadn't caught some kind of fungal infection, he didn't know, but Dan commended them for fighting the good fight. "A fan of Poe are you? 'I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.'. How very sentimental." Metro picked up the cover of the book and looked at it. "How you managed to keep it for so long is pretty remarkable. I'll have to borrow it sometime," Metro commented.
"I don't want to just force you to make decisions with your supplies, so if you want to eat here or later that' alright with me. But if we're staying, I will find something for my fort. I wonder if they sell throne's at Wal-Mart. Always more of a Costco kinda guy," Metro said, his words trailing off as he dove into nostalgia, completely missing the not-so-subtle glance in his direction. Costco was cheaper, better quality, and he always loved the feeling of walking around a huge warehouse. "Would it be too difficult to build a moat for our fort, do you think?" Metro queried, trying to get a giggle out of the girl. Laughter's the the best medicine, and as far as Dan was concerned, Fucked-Up was a disease. Metro followed Ellie to the corner of the store where he was perched like a bird of prey, and she dropped her gear and started setting up some food. Top notch lady. I would've shot me and stole my stuff by now, Metro thought. He laid his rifle down, his beloved Val, down on a nearby conveyor belt, firstly as a sign he didn't have any bad intentions, and secondly as the bastard was going to break a rib in a minute if it kept banging away like it was. He looked down at the mostly-full tin and his stomach roared. His hands rose to his mask and he froze. "That ain't hardly fair. 50/50, split it up even. I'm going to have a quick glance around," Metro muttered as he sped off quickly. He turned the corner and punted an emptied bottle of coolant in frustration.
It wasn't that he was horribly scarred, nor was he hiding anything. In fact, he wasn't too bad looking. But the mask was a scary thing. And he was, by appearance, not. It struck horror in the eyes of foes in ways he could not. The mask was like something from a Star Wars convention, and it was his only leverage besides his rifle. He liked being anonymous. No-one knew he was Dan MacDuff, 23-year-old man-child who cried at The Notebook. To the inhabitants of this Brave New World, he was Metro, feared warrior of the wasteland, defender, saviour, survivor. So he returned to his feet and squared his shoulders, before marching around to the book aisle. He browsed for a little while, perusing the titles and authors, few jumping out. Until BANG. There it was. His book. He seized the paperback and headed back to Ellie.
As he turned the aisle he saw Ellie still sitting down. Val, his warrior woman, remained on the conveyor belt. As he neared the seated figure, he threw the book to let it slide along the floor to rest by Ellie's boot. Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk stared up at her soft-green eyes. "Besides the multiple personality disorder and acts of terrorism, it's a fine code of conduct on how to live your life," Metro said as he awkwardly slumped his way onto his butt next to Ellie. He looked at the significantly-emptier can and grinned. "Listen up. Before I take this off, I'm still the hard-ass motherfucker you saw 10 minutes ago, alright? I am one with the mask. I'm scary. Don't forget that. Don't... not be scared of me, because I AM scary. Be intimidated, 'kay?" The clasp next to his left hear unclipped and the face plate swung to the right. He pulled the goggles off and seated them on the brow of the helmet, which he removed and slid it away. "You don't look as scared as you did a short time ago."
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