Joel really fucking hates these crowds. He's been wandering lost through the crowds for, Christ, he's got no idea how long. Long enough that his blistered, tired feet are killing him, he knows that much. Everywhere he looks across the sea of people - and to him, it really is a sea of people; he hasn't seen this many people since… hell, since before the infection first broke out - he keeps spotting people that look like Ellie. Red-brown hair, short, skinny, and he starts charging his way through the crowd towards her, intense paranoid be damned - only to find it's not her at all.
He's at a crossroad now, looking this way and that, eyeing people with careful suspicion, moving quickly out of the way when people get close, almost pushing people out of the way when they get too damn close. His heart is beating at a quick, unpleasant pace; his mouth is dry, his throat is tight, his nerves are right on fucking edge. In amongst the chaos of noise swimming all around him, he keeps expecting gunfire to go off. Or patrol to suddenly sweep in. Or sirens to suddenly start blaring. Or fucking Infected to start stampeding through the crowds.
Over there, he realises. A girl with red-brown hair. Short. Skinny. He starts charging through the crowds again, pushing past people, eyes sharp and locked on the girl - and comes to a sudden and abrupt halt at some guy with a giant dog suddenly cutting into his path.
Is he alright? Nice beard? He ain't got time for this shit. "Outta my fuckin' way," he demands with a growl, shoving his way past the guy and his big ass dog - and he comes to an abrupt stop again when he sees the girl has turned around and… it ain't Ellie.
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He's at a crossroad now, looking this way and that, eyeing people with careful suspicion, moving quickly out of the way when people get close, almost pushing people out of the way when they get too damn close. His heart is beating at a quick, unpleasant pace; his mouth is dry, his throat is tight, his nerves are right on fucking edge. In amongst the chaos of noise swimming all around him, he keeps expecting gunfire to go off. Or patrol to suddenly sweep in. Or sirens to suddenly start blaring. Or fucking Infected to start stampeding through the crowds.
Over there, he realises. A girl with red-brown hair. Short. Skinny. He starts charging through the crowds again, pushing past people, eyes sharp and locked on the girl - and comes to a sudden and abrupt halt at some guy with a giant dog suddenly cutting into his path.
Is he alright? Nice beard? He ain't got time for this shit. "Outta my fuckin' way," he demands with a growl, shoving his way past the guy and his big ass dog - and he comes to an abrupt stop again when he sees the girl has turned around and… it ain't Ellie.
Fuck. Fuck.