[IC] What would your oc do to the above oc?

Cable has an issue with just sort of... talking to people. Despite his general anxiety, he likes to talk to people. And so he does that, often, with little warning. 

"Are you okay?" Cable asks, giving Terry a sideways look. 

"You look tired I mean. I don't mean that in a bad way! You look great, just tired." 

Cable clears his throat awkwardly. 

"I get tired. All the time. I'm a mechanic, yknow. so I get... there's a lot of tires. I get. Tired."

Cable does a decent imitation of his chihuahua with the way that he is full body shaking delivering this anti-joke.

"You're a teacher. I couldn't imagine being a teacher. Kids are so. There is so many of them. I mean I know a kid but he's not really a normal kid so I don't think he counts. I mean unless most kids are monsters. I mean that literally. He's a beast. Like, he, he's not normal. I don't... so this weather is pretty crazy huh?"

Cable's amazing ability to crash and burn is being taken to new heights as he scrambles to look casual, and instead is standing like his skeleton is too large for his body. 

     "How terrible, how terrible. :)" That voice was a low hiss with a hint of playfulness to it despite its owner yanking a sledgehammer out of a zombie's head. Guts and old blood flew everywhere as the hammer swung up to rest on its owner's shoulder, a man coated in even more blood and guts. Atop his head was a brown paper bag, and when he turned to face Cable a smiley face could be seen drawn on it. Perhaps it would have been out of place in a world with no zombie apocalypse.

     "So many people brought back from the dead, but none of them can smile. :) Don't you think that's sad? I think that's sad. :) But I need to keep smiling and remind them what happiness looks like, or they won't have a good second chance at life. :)" A zombie approached him lazily from behind. He stomped on the foot to keep it in place as the hammer swung again. When the body collapsed, Smiley tilted his head down to observe the blood. "I can't paint smiley faces with this color. How sad, how sad. :) No happiness on the inside. No, no, no. :)"

     Smiley turned back to Cable, and even with the bag over his head it felt as though his gaze wasn't at him, but the zombies behind them. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Two more friends about to hurt my new friend. :)" He started striding over, revving up his hammer when he was stopped, explained the situation. Smiley stayed still for a moment then relented and took a step back. "Oh? :) Oh, oh, oh? :) Those two are different? Unique? :) How interesting, how fascinating, how fun! :) They can smile then? They can, they can? :) May I see? :)"

     "Hello, hello, hello again my friend, friend, friend. :) You work here? I bet it must be so much fun, fun, fun! :) You have such a nice smile, I bet you make your customers smile. I bet, I bet. :)"
     Smiley watched Minwoo prepare the drink then looked down at it. It smelled good and looked even better, yet he made no move to grab it. Instead, he looked back at the barista. "Do you have a straw? Do you, do you? :) I can't drink this very well without a straw. :) I wouldn't want you to catch me if I weren't smiling. Oh no, no, no. :)"

     When blood was mentioned, Smiley tilted his head to the side. "Blood? :) Oh my, my, my, I'm not interested in something like that, especially as a drink. :)" He gestured to the blood on his flannel. "I'm a painter! :) This is my paint. :) I get it from my friends when we paint together, don't you remember? Don't you, don't you? :) You shouldn't drink paint, either. No, no, no. :)"

Putting in a spoiler for slight violent(?) themes!

(vv Aloofcloud HWJSJSJJE omg thank you so much for that!! 😭 I have been blessed 🥲)

*walks up to Minwoo as he is killing someone* “MEOW.” *makes aggressive gestures* “MEOW MEOW MEEOOWOWOOOWOW!”

Gomji I'm claiming you too bud, and THERE WE GO

Luna_the_Wolf hey friend claim!  The rules do state to try and make it at least 5 sentences when reply to the person above writing two claims so give me a hot minute compadres 

        Brushing arms with detectives and similar intelligence were nothing new for Karan. Novem, as countless before him, was ultimately a resource, alike a body left out in the sun for vultures to swarm. Perhaps he was as used to it as well, being a cadaver. Perhaps he swallowed pesticides beforehand.

       No matter the case, Karan proceeded accordingly. He refused anything else. He was fortunate enough to find someone so willing, so distinguished, and maybe not so fortunate to allow him into the camp. Golden light poured through the smoke hole of the tent, and in exchange, to the other side, so did the haze emitting from the hare roasting over the firepit, specked with herbs and spices. Novem looked hilariously out of place there amongst Karan's own party, with their heeled riding boots and lightweight garb meant for travel. Modernity versus the anachronistic shitstorm. You know. Still, it did not seem to Karan than Novem minded even that, as if he had been around, had seen it all, the whole shebang.

       "Obviously, your work is vital to future investigations of our own, should the deal strike." said the inquisitor, with hardly a look at his guest, "You've made a name for yourself, and it's that name we of the crown are most interested in. I'm sure that you understand, that you yourself only take jobs of utmost value or urgency."

       "And should the deal strike indeed, that name and ours would, truly, go together near perfectly." Karan then met the other man's gaze. Novem seemed kind. He seemed easy. There was doggedness, commitment to deeds he'd take. Yet still, nothing could be perfect, could it? As if to entertain the thought, Karan was silent. Only for a moment. "This is with your agreement." he then uttered, "Only yours. I've made my statements clear enough, have I not?"