"Like this old, old world, the bones of the man I had been, what seemed moments ago, speaking to, had long since dried up. The life had seeped from their ancient marrow years ago. His black, dirty mask was still about his face, but his lower jaw had been carried off, probably by one of the abominations I hear scuffling outside these walls. I did not lift off the sheets wadded over his eyes and the rest of his head, not like I could see a face at this point. That button up sweater still had a faded vestige of its original pale yellow, though only half of the actual cloth remained for some reason. He was missing many of his things and parts actually, but it guess the eons too that to a person. It was almost disheartening to know that I would never have the chance to learn what he really wanted, I could damn near hear in his voice he was looking for something. Albeit a short conversation by the fire in the center of these roofless walls, our only interaction was glimpses of each other, always just too far away to talk, or kept from meeting by a fence, or a glass pane, or ravine, or what have you. honestly I don't think he wanted to. every time he saw me, our eyes would connect for a short while, and then he would slowly turn away and depart, as if
I was only a small curiosity to him.
Glancing around calmly, I saw the fire had burnt through the floor. down to the blackened dirt of the wretched place. but more importantly, the large metal clad door had rotted off its hinges, and some sort of clanking noise was being carried closer on the wind." -Journal page found on the floor of Jess Herienberg's bedroom.
Just more sketches and random story for marshal and other characters, all of which i still need to make refs for.