Prompt 147 -- Pretty

Title: Realmspeaker
Genre: Urban fantasy
Characters: Russell, Conrad
Prompt: 147 ~ Pretty
Word Count: Approx. 498
Rating: PG (just in case)
Type: Series
Summary: Russell gets an attempt at reassurance.
Warnings: Stretched prompt

*

August 6, 2059
New Haven Gates #12, Buffalo, New York

"Looks like your poker face could use some work, Russ." Conrad lifted his cards from the surface of the table and peeked at the numbers. His brow twitched--was that good? Ah, who was he kidding? Russell wasn't even sure he cared. "Do you even know how to play this game?"

Russell shrugged. "Not really."

"Good. I don't either." His roommate tossed another chip into the center and frowned. "What are the cards in the middle for anyway?"

"I don't know. Weren't you the one who put them there?"

Conrad gaped at him. A little ashamed, Russell glanced down with the pretense of looking at his cards. He hadn't meant to snap, and of course Conrad hadn't done anything wrong, but...

"You're worried about this afternoon."

Russell sighed. Conrad wasn't the sort of guy who could be expected to pick up on that kind of thing--not with the seeming immunity to mystery jars in the back of the fridge, the obvious lusting after his boss's girlfriend, and the fact that he viewed the low-budget drawback of tragically mismatched furniture as an excuse to sleep in a race car bed--but somehow he always did. Russell just hoped he wasn't the only one who'd keep on surprising him. "You know what happened to the last dozen Walkers Brett picked up."

"And the dozen before them." Shaking his head, Conrad drew another card from the deck and grimaced. "At least most of them didn't die, right?"

Well, at least he couldn't say he wasn't trying. Still... "Well, yeah, but it's never a good life for a Walker. You know what Brett does. He puts them through a few test runs, and when those fail, he starts using them for breeding stock."

"But on the bright side, maybe he'll breed her with you."

Russell cringed, letting his cards fall to the floor, completely visible to Conrad if he cared to look but well beyond either of their concern. It was one of those ideas he didn't want to think about just because he did want to think about it. "Don't say it like that. Besides, she's too pretty for me."

His roommate cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, maybe... but it evens out if you consider that you're too smart for her."

For Shellee's sake, he decided to ignore that comment. "This whole thing just isn't worth it. A few deaths, and then everyone else ends up like Stasia. Or they end up like Lucia. Why can't he just give it up already?"

"So he can beat EDEN at their own game?"

Well, everyone knew that. But... "What is EDEN's game, anyway?"

"Eh. I figure it's like that stuff we found in the medicine cabinet when we moved in; we're better off not knowing." And--as if that solved everything--he gathered up his hand and slipped it back into the deck. "Don't worry about her, Russ. Let's just Google the rules and get your mind off of everything, okay?"