[ simon monroe. former disciple of the undead prophet and key figure in the wavering undead liberation army. stuck in a cage. he remembers a time where only rabids were treated like this, but these developments have not been surprising. not to him. simon sees the living for what they are. he always has. ]
”I’ve come to make an opinion, actually.”
A carefully drawn smile and the woman is looking up at the ‘PDS sufferer’ with caution, aware now that she should explain her causation for coming.
”I don’t really understand what you are, I don’t trust those who are alive not to have an unbias opinion- so I want to ask you: what are you?”
Eyes narrowing she shuffles closer to the cage, fingers trailing lazily over cold steel bars.
She’s always abhorred the Circus, first it was animals- now it was these people that used to be living but were in a state of grey now, not in the right conditions to truly be living but certainly not dead either. Perhaps they were nothing more than mindless puppets, beasts without conscious thought but it didn’t appear that way. This one looked sad. She hated it. He didn’t look mindless.
”I don’t think anyone should be in a cage really but equally I don’t know what you are, don’t know how you behave- suppose you all could act differently but I don’t know really.”
Teeth gazing over her lip the girl drew closer, hands clasped around the bars tightly now, all to curious.
”You’re not a vicious animal like they say are you? I don’t want to see the show, can I talk to you instead?”
