Living Versus Dead
Marcus had been a flirt well before he ever remembered the five other letters to his name. Unfortunately, living women weren't impressed with his grisly half-dead appearance and unpleasant smell. And the Dead women weren't impressed either, hypocrites.
Tabitha wasn't much of a woman, more of a living shadow with a nervous stutter that stayed away from anyone that wasn't family. Nose in a book when she wasn't working, she didn't notice anyone and no one noticed her. No one living at least.
L vs.D
In the book, M was always a character I was rather interested in. He hinted to be somewhat like R- able to form words and hinted to be trapped somewhat in his own mind. And while the movie is vastly different from the book, Rob Corddry made M only more interesting. And far more attractive than his book-self.
As to which 'verse this is set in, is mostly movie-verse but with the book used for a reference. This is also a prompt-based story, meaning I have a set of 13 prompts, one for each chapter. Obviously this isn't some epic, heavily plotted story. Just a mostly fun, fluffy, get-together story.
First Time
The cool autumn air was decidedly crisp, which matched the crunch of the fallen leaves underfoot. Outside of the half deconstructed walls of Humanity's last false hope was a small park overgrown with untamed brown grass and colored trees shedding their deciduous coverings. Beneath a especially gnarled tree that had obviously been planted before the Dead weren't exactly dead sat a simple stone bench covered in old bindweed vines. Half the bench had been cleared of the troublesome vine, letting a small-framed woman sit on the cold stone. Mended glasses sat on a overly tanned and freckled nose that was only a few inches away from the yellowed pages of a book. Her feet were firmly planted on the ground, but her mind was in the clouds as she lost herself in the novel, completely oblivious to the world around her. People wandered down the broken pavement, either too busy or lost in their own mind to notice her, which was the way she preferred it. No one would ever accuse her of being sociable in the slightest regard; not when she rarely spoke a word, or even offered a simple smile to a stranger. No, her muddy green eyes were focused either on her book, her work, or the ground around her worn boots; her mouth was kept firmly closed lest a stumbling word fell out, and her shoulders rounded in a self protective gesture to keep everyone away.
For the short few months since the Living had made a stand to keep themselves out of the metaphorical grave by reaching out towards their darker half, the small woman known as Tabitha had visited the newly reclaimed park for an hour every day to get away from the stress at home and relax within whatever book she had managed to find. Fiction to non, fantasy to physics, theology to evolution, she would take whatever distraction she could find in the brittle paper pages. A small distraction from a world she barely lived in.
Her mind was far away from reality, lost in the fantasy realm of talking dragons, princesses, and magic. While her ears heard the crunch of leaves and gravel of people walking the ruined sidewalks, the sounds didn't register as her mind created its own sounds of whispering trees and twittering birds. That's was why she never heard the steps of someone walking through dead grass from the sidewalk to her bench, too involved in the story to note the body sit next to her.
It wasn't until a rather gravelly voice finally interrupted her submersion into the literary world, forcing her into the real one. "What're you... reading?"
"The tales of..." her sentence trailed off as she looked up at her bench partner. Dark veins stood out on the gray skin of the large man, the cold grey of dead eyes matching his rather beat up suit.
She had seen the 'reformed' Dead mulling about; understood that they were somehow coming back to, well, life, but she hadn't really met one. Let alone sit next to one. Her mind essentially scrambled for anything to say or do, her unfinished sentence forgotten. "Uhhh, h-hi?"
She cursed her eloquence internally, but the Dead man smiled slightly, amusement evident on his rather grisly face. "Hi."
"You're, um, D-dead..." she could feel her cheeks blushing as she slapped herself on the forehead. "Sorry, that's-that's not polite and-and..."
"You're pretty," he interrupted her embarrassed babbling, causing her to freeze once more. She chanced a slight glance at him. He shrugged slightly, unabashed, "Since we're...pointing out... the obvious."
Her faced warmed even more, her mind at total loss for words. Slowly a small giggle formed, quickly identifying itself as hysterical by nature as she hid her face in her hands, shoulders shaking as she continued to laugh. Not in her wildest dreams or highest flights of fancy had this scenario ever passed her mind.
After a moment, she swallowed her giggles and looked up, letting a small embarrassed smile cross her lips. "I,uh, think that... well, just, it's just... th-thank you..."
"Marcus," he offered as well as held out a hand. She hesitated only for a moment before accepting it, somewhat surprised by the lack of natural warmth.
"N-nice to meet you, M-Marcus. My, uh, my name is T-Tabitha. Or-or Tab-Tabby."
A thoughtful look crossed his face before a smile spread across his lips. Even though he was obviously quite Dead, his lips blue-grey, she felt something twist inside her. She rarely had any interactions with anyone, Dead or not, she wasn't surprised that the flutter of nerves were flaring by holding an actual conversation. "Tabby...Cat."
Her face flushed slightly as she shook her head. "N-no, just-just Tabby."
His smile grew, more than a little impish. "I like... Tabby Cat better."