Zombie Gearz

"Ahhhh it is such a gorgeous day." the female hunter, Snaggle, exclaimed as she stretched her arms above her head, her digits curled into fists comfortably within their leather. With a few steps more, she stopped in front of the double glass doors, happily. Yanking a chain from the base of her neck she tugged lightly, breaking the magnetic clasp to retrieve her key. Grasping the door, she placed the key inside, turning, then wiggling it slightly before unlocking its dead-bolt lock and opening it. With a discrete strut in her step, she made her way inside, flipping her custom 'OPEN' sign over. Glancing to the small digital clock, it read 10:00 am.

Closing the door behind her, Snag looked about the store, seeing to it that everything was in its place where it belonged and straightening the display shelves until she was content the store's aesthetics and layout. With a small yawn, she patted her parted lips gently before retreating behind the counter. Leaning down to open a cabinet, she turned on the display cases lights, then rose to turn on the rest of the lights, creating a bright and welcoming atmosphere. Lazily, she grabbed a thin polishing cloth and her various airbrush pieces and began cleaning them meticulously.

Pausing for a moment, she grabbed a small remote to cue some music of her choice from her . Today's flavor was that of alternative music. Smiling, she continued her work, moving slightly with the music. Again she yawned, wincing slightly before speaking aloud to herself. "I should open shop later, I own the place, why don't I just sleep in?"

Snaggle grumbled slightly as she placed her clean equipment upon the back row counter, which she turned into her work station for custom commissions. With an exasperated sigh, she flopped down into a large, pleather-cushioned chair, spinning to the side slightly as she sat. Tipping her head back, she stared at the ceiling for a few moments, wondering who might come through the doors today.

Today Desmond felt like being a particularly fatherly father, and thought ‘Hey, you know what would brighten my son’s day up more than anything?’ The man stood across the street, staring into the wide front windows of J.J. Scoops. There he could see his son laying his head on the counter and presumably taking a nap. Desmond reconsidered for a moment…. He had planned to visit Scuttle during work to maybe cheer him up a bit, but then he suddenly remembered that Scuttle hated that. Somehow Desmond had also forgotten that Scuttle hated him as well. Oh well…

“Daddy,” Desmond felt someone wrap their hand around his, the assassin looked down as saw his son Knaw staring up at him with a huge smile. “Can we go see Scuttle now?” Knaw’s cheek patches brightened at the thought. Such curious things those cheek patches are, Desmond thought to himself idly, actually quite thankful for their presence. Without seeing his son’s eyes, the cheek patches preformed as a suitable replacement for Knaw’s current mood.

Desmond returned his son’s hopeful smile with a faltering one. “Sorry buddy, looks like he’s busy at the moment,” he slid in front of Knaw’s view of J.J. Scoops to prevent him from perhaps stealing a glance of his sleeping older brother. “But,” he continued once he saw Knaw’s expression start to sadden, “ we’re already out and about town! We should go get some clothes for the winter, it’s going to be cold before you know it, kiddo!” He said, patting Knaw’s head.

“Oh! Okay!” The little hunter piped cheerfully, already forgetting why he was out with his dad in the first place.

“Good, uh let’s see the mall….should be…” He looked around the street, scanning the signs to determine where he had to go from here to reach the shopping center. Then he spotted the store that he was actually three feet from, and he was standing in front of this whole time. He looked up and read ‘Zombie Gearz’ published proudly on its front. One quick glance into the window informed the clever assassin that it was indeed a clothing store. “Oh, this place actually looks good….I think it’s new. Come on Knaw,” He said, pulling his son through the entrance. “Let’s see if they have what we are looking for!”

Listening to the music in her store, she had not noticed the small commotion outside of her store and across the street. Her fingers trailed idly over a knik-knak before trying to balance it on her nose. With success for about 3 seconds, it idled feebly upon the tip of her face. Unable to catch it as it made its descent, it clattered to the floor with the sound of metal upon wood flooring. With a sigh she leaned back again to stare upward into the fluorescent lights through her beanie that resided above her. Then motion flickered in her peripherals.

Sitting up straight, attentively, she listened as their footsteps padded lightly against the as-fault. As she watched the fatherly figure and small hunter enter through the double doors, she smiled, rising to her feet to greet them. "Hello, and welcome to Zombie Gearz! I have brands from all over town in one location for your convenience. I also have variety of accessories for any and all infected." With her arms spread slightly, she gestured to the rest of the store, smiling. "Let me know if you need any help finding anything."

With her customer-friendly smile and warm welcoming,she locked her hands behind her back pleasantly as she observed her attendees as they looked around.

Immediately upon entering, Knaw let go of his dad’s hand and bounded towards the nearest clothes display. He couldn’t resist the delightful smell of new clothing and proceeded to rub his face all over the articles he gathers in his arms. He inhaled the scent loudly, “Aahh! It smells so clean and new!” He exclaimed while rubbing the soft shirt on his cheek.

Used to this behavior, Desmond barely even noticed Knaw’s odd conduct. He gave the huntress in front of him a friendly smile and a little wave. “Hey! Yeah we were just walking by and noticed this place, did you just open? My son works around here so I’m usually in the area.” Even though Desmond wasn’t infected, he was not surprised that the person who owned this store was. Being forever delusionally polite, he held no bias against any sort of creature different from him. In fact he was quite knowledgeable in the Green Flu on account that he was ‘technically’ the one who started it, but no one had to know that now did they? So he could easily tell this young woman was a hunter, just like both of his sons.

“And yes, now that you’re offering…” He scanned the store, eyes passing over Knaw who was currently flailing on a shelf full of pants like it was the most normal thing for him to be doing at the moment. “Do you have hoodies? Just. Plain,” He swiped his hands in front of himself with a quick horizontal motion, “nothing on them…hoodies?”

Quirking an eyebrow, she watched the small hunter's actions, at first a little disgruntled. After looking over his appearance and seeing to it that he was well kept and clean, she didn't mind him stuffing his face into the clothing. She also shared a fond admiration for fresh, clean . With the same smile still gleaming on her friendly face, she turned her attention to the older male who also disregarded the young one's behavior.

"My store is relatively new, hasn't been up too long." Her shoulders rose and slumped in an apathetic motion. Though her store had only been open a week or two, she never even noticed the other stores around her own establishment. For a moment, she shifted uncomfortably before casting away the idea that she really didn't know anybody in the area. This caused a sudden rush of cold feeling to wash over her before mentally shuddering and returning her attention to the customer.

With a clever thought in mind, she saw this newcomer as a chance to maybe get to know some people in town, seeing as he seemed to know a few people. With a very light skip in her step she removed herself from the safety of her counter, approaching the man. "Well of course I have plenty of plain hoodies without any designs, logos, or symbols. I usually use them for my custom work." Momentarily,she gestured back to the clean and efficient work station of her's. "Buying one plain will definitely be a steal since I buy them in bulk."

Suddenly she remembered that she had forgotten to introduce herself to him. "My name is Snaggle, but most refer to me as Snag. I don't believe I caught your name...?" As she began a general banter with the customer, she stepped forward, signaling for him to follow her to the store section where he could find a hoodie that catered to simplistic style.

“Oh well it’s nice to meet you Snag. You can call me Desmond, or Mr. Miles; whichever you prefer” He shrugged sheepishly, “It’s so neat to see that infected have just the quirkiest names!” He said to the air happily. “You’ll begin to notice it once you stay in town long enough,” he reassured, walking after the young huntress when she gestured for him to follow. “In fact my son’s name over there is Knaw,” he told her. At the mention of his name, Knaw popped his head out of a clothes rack he was currently playing in. Seeing that his dad wasn’t calling him over, he returned to the clothes rack jungle and divulged once more in his imagination. He was pretending he was hunting bear in the woods like that one time with his older brother. So. Fun.

“And my oldest son’s name is Scuttle.” He said leaning a hand on a shelf once she led them to the sweatshirt section. “I named the little one Knaw because he loved to just chew on everything when he was first born,” Desmond rolled his eyes. “It sort of became a problem; he just chipped an adult tooth in front. And it would help if he didn’t try to bite the dentist’s hand when I brought him in for it to be fixed.” The father turned from Snaggle to inspect the hoodies neatly lined on the display. He searched through the dark blue ones for a small. “Scuttle was named because he would never stay still when he was a pup. You’d turn around one second and he would be out in the backyard trying to crawl up a tree or something!” He chuckled at the memory, remembering not to mention that his grandfather’s pet eagle Riva almost took off with his son that day. He found the correct sized hoodie for Knaw and draped it over his arm, turning his attention to the white hoodies for himself. “You must have an interesting story for your name, right?” He muttered while picking through the clothing.

Listening to his fatherly banter, she glanced over to Knaw, the small hunter, a laughed softly. In a very light tone she said, "So long as he doesn't chew on my merchandise, Mr. Miles, its a pleasure to have you both in my store. Your other son you mentioned, Scuttle, you said he worked around here; where might that be?" Her attention turned back to the male as he skimmed through the hoodies, laying one over his arm for the younger of his two sons.

"Hm? My name? Well, long story short, my little brother used to call me Snaggle because of when I used to do parkour,my baggy clothing used to catch or 'snag' on just about any protruding object. Granted, this wasn't my birth name, but I've titled myself with it ever since he died in the Green Flu incident." Her mind felt distant for a few moments with nostalgia, her stomach turning with unease. She placed a hand on her beanie and rubbed it slightly to scratch her head underneath. "That's how I got my name."

With a slight shrug, she leaned back against a self opposite of the rack that Mr. Miles was skimming. A small yawn escaped her lips.

“Oh gosh,” Desmond ceased his browsing to give the girl a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry…A lot of people were lost to the Green Flu when the outbreak first happened…” The assassin recalled the memory; after he saw the outbreak on the news Scuttle was grounded for a month. A sufficient punishment he believed. He glanced away from her, “Luckily that doesn’t really happen too much anymore thanks to you guys suddenly becoming tame and civilized. Oh! In fact a school just opened a few years ago to educate the infected children!” He suddenly recalled. Desmond was totally there in the first PTA meetings to vote for its construction. Scuttle went to a normal school when he was first growing up. Lord knows how well that went. Half the time that little hoodlum was skipping class and running off to the city to play with his cousin, Alex. Not to mention he had no friends on account of the little hunter threatening to eat them if they talked to him.

“Yes…. The school was probably one of the best decisions this town has made.” Desmond said seriously, staring blankly at the wall across from him. “….” The assassin shook his head, got to stay focused here. He turned his head back to Snaggle with a tiny grin, “Well now that you’re a huntress do you think your parkour skills have improved at all?” He asked, knowing full well that parkour was one of a hunter’s favorite pastime.

Before his silly question could be answered, Knaw hopped over from behind the hoodie display Desmond had been sorting through. “Scuttle is the bestest, meanest, scariest hunter ever!” He cried, standing atop the mound of sweatshirts like a proud lion warrior. “He’s the best big brother ever! He doesn’t take garbage from anyone and he’s SOOOO COOOOOL.” Knaw blubbed, dragging his palms down his face like a crazy hyperventilating fanboy. He put his hands down on the sweatshirts and retained his lion-on-priderock pose. “Yeah! He works at the ice cream store! ThebestjobEVER! Imeanit’ssocooltohaveanolderbrotherworkingthere! IgetfreeicecreamsometimeswhenIgothereafterschoolwithSkeetand-“

Desmond tuned out his son’s ranting by calmly draping a hoodie over his face. This did nothing to stop Knaw’s chatter and he continued to ramble on about his older brother as if he did not indeed have a hoodie over his face. “Anywaaaaay…..” The father slowly returned his attention to Snaggle, “yeah he is sort of a bum so I forced him to get a job to pay off college loans. Like heck I’m paying for that wasted year! It was basically going to a tree and throwing ten thousand dollars of your money at it like ‘Here you go tree, I noticed you don’t have any clothes or basic necessities, so why don’t you go buy yourself something to start living a comfortable life’ And you know what that tree is going to do Snaggle…” He asked eying her carefully, “It’s going to do nothing but sit on its ass forever and let your money get blown away or eaten by squirrels or something. That tree isn’t going to give a damn that you worked hard for that money and you only wanted to give it a chance. An opportunity, for a better and more educated life! But no! They don’t care one bit. And why? Because it’s a God. Damn. Tree. And you were the one to make the mistake in giving that tree money in the first place….Yes….” He narrowed his eyes spitefully, “ just like that….”

As Desmond chatted away about how he was sympathetic for her, she nodded in silent thanks for his pity. He continued on about the more civilized community and the new Middle School. As a good manager does, she listens to her customers and is very polite with them. A few things wept though her mind as he discussed it; her brother could have attended this middle school and had a second life away form their parents. Mentally shaking herself, she refocused on the customer, Mr. Miles, as he asked about her parkour skills. Brightening up slightly at this, she parted her lips to retort; instead she closed her mouth and looked to the shelf nearest them.

There was Knaw. Rambling on about his older brother, and from what she was hearing, he seemed like a pretty cool guy. Watching his enthusiasm with slight interest,her arms folded before her bosom, the small smile returning to her lips. As he continued to rant, she also tuned him out to redirect her attention to Desmond.

Then he began to rant. She listened to him compare his son to a tree and turned slightly toward the store front, looking to maybe see its location from the window. She didn't see the sign for any sort ice cream place from where she stood, or at least no signs from all the posters up front. She faced Desmond once again as he wrapped up his monologue;she applauded him on his metaphor. "Well, Mr. Miles, it looks like you've got two interesting kids on your hands." Her arms unfolded, open-palmed and extended slightly as if to weigh something, accentuating the lower one fora moment. "On one hand, you have an unmotivated child, but is working to pay you back." The rising one rose a little higher. "On the other, you have this cute little guy who seems energetic and the opposite. He's got a bright future, from what i can see, but you probably already knew that."

A smile made its way back on to her face as she tried to lighten his mood, though she was being honest.

"Hmp," Desmond raised his eyebrows and sucked in his lower lip as he considered Snaggle's observation. "Well I do hope Knaw won't turn out to be a bum like his brother..." The father glanced at his son, "I mean the little guy looks up to him so much for some reason even though he's a horrible influence. I'm actually lucky Knaw has been a little too dense to pick up on any of his bad habits." He said with a grin. "Well," Desmond reconsidered his choice of words, "maybe not 'dense'...more like naive I suppose." He waved his hand carelessly, already growing bored of the discussion of his youngest son. What a loving father.

"They definitely are different from each other, good lord..." He repeated with a twinge of bewilderment while turning back to look at the hoodies. He grabbed a large plain grey one for Scuttle and placed it over the white one already draped on his arm. “…certainly ‘interesting’ too if you could call it that…” He muttered to himself, thinking of how they were the first actual natural born infected. Desmond plucked the sweatshirt that he tossed on Knaw’s head and put it with the others. The little hunter was still sprawling on about some nonsense; Desmond caught the words ‘santa’ and ‘sugarcubes’. Not a clue about the relation to those two.

The assassin used his free arm to grab Knaw around the middle and lift him off the display. “Come on now, no more playing. We have everything we need.” Knaw was placed on the ground and he noticed the new hoodies that his dad was carrying in his other arm.

“Ohhh….Okay! That was fast! Next time we should bring Skeet! I liked going in the clothes hangers thingy! I was like I was in the forest or something!” Knaw waved his arms around with enthusiasm as he explained.

“Yeah okay, we’ll see next time,” Desmond said automatically like he said it a million times before. He looked back at Snaggle and began to lead Knaw towards the checkout area. “I think we’re ready to pay now!”

Allowing him to question his sons 'density' and/or 'naive' view of his sibling, she thought to herself. He seems so adamant that his older son can't turn around and better himself and really only cares that the younger doesn't follow in his foot steps. She couldn't help but think of her own parents, they also didn't want their son following the eldest sibling, that being herself. She wasn't a bad influence, not a bad student, excelled with most athletic tasks, and graduated High School with an Advanced Studies Diploma. Maybe it was because her parents were simply mad, crazy perfectionists that would never achieve their real goals in life, making her an easy target for abuse.

Hearing that he was ready to check out, her reverie ended almost immediately. Turning, she directed them back to the counter, "Three hoodies? One Small and two larges?" Her voice sounded as retreated behind the wooden barrier between them. Punching in a few keys on the cash register. She tipped her head upward as if to be sure the sizes were right. She glanced down to the young hunter, Knaw, and smiled when she heard him still babbling about something.

Desmond placed all of his items on the counter and allowed them to be checked out. “Well… yes that should be correct…” He said, making sure he brought over the right sizes. He picked up the grey one. “Actually…No never mind.” He put it back down. Shopping for Scuttle was difficult. Not only would Scuttle complain if his clothes were too tight, he would also carp about them being too loose as well. Once he found something that fit perfectly, he wouldn’t take it off for months. Which is probably the reason why he looks and smells like a dirty hobo all the time. I still don’t know how his boss can let him serve food to people! “This is fine.” He shoved the clothes towards Snaggle so she could bag it. “Do you take credit?” Desmond asked while taking out his wallet. He frowned, Why can’t Scuttle like nice things?! the assassin mentally cried, pretty much knowing that he was buying Scuttle’s new hoodie for no reason. Like hell Scuttle would wear a new and ‘smelly’ as he would call it, hoodie over his worn one. There are some things Desmond will just not understand about his infected kin.

Snaggle waited until he made his final decision about his purchase before ringing it up. "The two larges are $15, the small is $10. That totals out to $40, and yes I take credit." She smiled politely to the male who seemed to have momentarily struggled with his choice of purchase. Once he was done deciding, she proceeded to fold each of the articles of clothing neatly, placing them into brown bags that contained her store's Logo and her own signature. She placed them on the counter in front of them and waited for him to hand her his form of payment.

"So, this son of yours, Scuttle; you said he works at an Ice Cream Parlor, right?" She canted her head slightly to the side as she inquired about his son's occupation. Maybe since she met his family she would meet him in the near future. Who knew? The town was a decent size.

“Yeah that’s right!” Knaw chirped, hopping up and flopping his arms on the counter. He stood up on his tippy toes so his chin could rest on the surface. “He works at the best ice cream store ever! Ice cream is like my favorite food now! If you go there and they have a new flavor, sometimes you can get free samples of it!” While Knaw answered, Desmond handed over his credit card silently to pay for his purchase.

“J.J. Scoops has the most flavors of ice cream I’d ever see in one place ever! They even have some special ones just for infected!” He squished his cheek patches in wonderment and gasped. “Well I mean I think normal people could eat it too, but I don’t think they would think it tastes too good! It has stuff in it from when he’s hunting! Like deer and stuff! OhOh!” Knaw bounced up and down, suddenly remembering something else about the ice cream parlor. “It’s where I got my birthday cake too! It was sooo good…” Knaw clawed at the table lightly, “And Uncle Ezio always makes sure to visit cause he likes the italian ice, cause he’s Italian! …I think…” The hunter gave himself a confused look, unsure with his words.

Desmond rolled his eyes with a smile and shook his head. Anyone who was anyone knew that Ezio preferred fat-free yogurt cups. The assassin took back his card once it was swiped and signed the receipt. “Thanks for the help, Snaggle. Maybe we’ll see you around town sometime!” He grabbed the bag full of his purchases and took Knaw’s hand once more.

“Bye lady! Next time I come here I’m gonna bring Skeet!” Knaw said happily and waved goodbye. Desmond tugged on his hand and led his back towards the exit.

“Bye Snaggle!” The father called over his shoulder, giving one last friendly smile before pushing out the doors with his shoulder. The pair continued down the sidewalk until they were around the corner and out of view.

"Is that so?" She merely put in a phrase or two between his hyperactive speaking to show that she was paying attention. "Sounds like your Brother runs quite the business, kid." Her smile warmed slightly, actually finding the young hunter to be more pleasant than other infected she has met before. Taking the father's credit card, she made the transaction, had him sign the receipt and sent them on their way. I hope I didn't take up to much of their time, she thought to herself. Once they were out of sight, she yawned, cupping a hand over her mouth. Shrugging out of her hoodie, she sat up on the counter, facing the airbrush equipment and began contemplating new design ideas.

After a while of thinking and making a few sketches in her notebook, she was satisfied with the few ideas she had managed to scribe on the paper. Her head tipped to the ceiling, attempting to remember if she had packed lunch. Hopping down, she checked the mini-fridge behind the counter; alas it was empty save for a pack or Sour Patch Kids. Her stomach grumbled slightly before she decided. She would work on the new designs for an hour or so, then take a break for some chow.