Jack took a moment to calm his spinning brain. He had wanted to find other survivors, but had hoped they would be more of a help than, well, a child. There was a reason he didn't have kids. Dating sucked. But! Also! He wasn't exactly parent material. Probably. Long story short he had no idea how to handle children for prolonged periods of time. How was he supposed to take care of himself AND another human AND go find other people? Was he a monster for even having these thoughts at all?! Wait, he was supposed to be calming his brain now, not spin it faster. Breath.
Ok. Adjust his current plan. He couldn't leave the house for another 2 hours unless he found Lily something she could wear, other than her original bloody murder victim clothes. That's how long the washer and dryer roughly took. It should be around 5-5:30 now. He checked the cellphone on the kitchen counter. It was only 4:15. Yeah, that made sense. The sun set around 8. So he would have about an hour outside if things stayed like this. Not exactly enough time to get out of the neighborhood, but maybe enough to figure out where to steal something to ride tomorrow. He wouldn't get through to or past the main road otherwise, and was far from giving up on finding others.
Jack also had to consider what the night would look like. The windows were covered, with some exceptions downstairs, but not enough to hide light from the outside. He could spend some time while he was stuck inside to jam a bunch of bed sheets into curtain rods upstairs and in the inventory-bedroom. He chose those as the most reasonable areas for night activities, and that way any zeds wouldn't break in while out looking for a midnight snack. He also still hadn't explored his cellar, which the landlords had kept locked. Finally, he still had to search the house and take inventory of useful supplies.
Jack ascertained he still had a lot he could inside and let some of his tension drop. He wasn't wasting time. With the washer running, he was about to get his journal to take inventory (he'd give Lily time alone before trying to do any work upstairs) when he noticed a small notification bouncing around in his peripheral vision. On paying attention, a pair of obtrusively orange achievement notifications popped up! Yus. Jack felt his adrenaline spike on seeing the boxes, then his blood freeze upon reading the achievement names.
----------
*Achievement Granted! 'MaStEr Of DiSgUiSe' +.01 stat points!*
*Description: Wowee you sure did disguise yourself sooo well! If any zombie noticed you it would almost fool them from far away! Maybe! Your Triller impression was PERFECT. Zombies totally move like that. Horizontal steps, raising your knees to your waist, shaking like a seizure patient? Definitely! 100% natural.
LOL! You're so fucking proud and that little girl is watching you like an alien! She's honestly considering how to get away. Fantastic. Have some points. Keep up the great work, genius, WIN that Oscar! I bewieve in you!*
----------
*Achievement Granted! 'Getting the Milk' +.03 stat points!*
*Description: HAHAHA!!! HOLY SHIT! YOU JUST RAN FROM HER!!! Just... omg... Just the light leaving her eyes as you fucking BOOKED IT... pffthahHA!! 'Daddy? Where are you going??' 'Just to the store, honey, be back soon!!!' HAHAHA!!!!
She's never gonna trust an adult again!!! No way. For a brief moment, she was literally JUST disapointed. You scoundrel! I love it. So many points. Standing applause. God yes. ...Me yes? Me yes. HA! Oh, it hurts to breath. Metaphorically. I don't have to, but it would if I did!!!*
----------
Jack's cheeks started to turn red. He was out of questions for the moment, so he had let his unconscious open the descriptions of the achievements as he focused on them. They didn't help. Goddammit 'God', why do you always gotta hit him where it hurts? He was doing the best he could. Mostly.
Jack sighed. The being was right. He had to prove his reliability to Lily right now, not the other way around. Poor thing had already been so traumatized, but he had even found new ways to add to her therapy pile. Still, there were a lot of things he could do to help her. Including helping her understand what was going on... if he knew himself. There were a lot of things he didn't totally get about the new 'system' they both likely had. Maybe this was a chance to learn more. Jack opened his status.
------------------------------
Status: Jack Grey
Health: Decent
Mental Status: Scattered, distractable, and basically bipolar. Are you cool or do you suck? MAKE UP YOUR MIND MAN
Infection Degree: None
Strength: 11
Stamina: 8
Agility: 9 (but super speed when it comes to missing the point... baka)
Intelligence: 13
Dexterity: 9
Constitution: 11
Expand?
Stat Points: 0.202
Achievements: Bird-Brain, Lawnmower Man, Less Annoying Hypochondriac, MaStEr Of DiSgUiSe, Getting the Milk
------------------------------
Jack contemplated his general stats. He knew from the information, which had been pushed into his brain, that he could potentially subdivide/create categories to lower the average value of points and increase specificity, but he knew his DnD stats and a few were missing from the general pool. Where were wisdom and charisma? Those were two mental stats, but so was intelligence? He tried to expand his list to include 'wisdom' and an error message popped up with a bright pink hue:
----------
*Error: Cannot alter aspects of host personality. Recorded message, 'Not my realm, bro.'*
----------
Jack supposed that made sense. Physical intelligence was an aspect of personality, but also came down the structure of the brain. Some were more talented than others, but you could build it through exercise. Wisdom or willpower had genetic influences and could also be trained, but it really came down to what one decided to be with their life choices. It was closer to 'personality' than intelligence. Charisma was probably similar, as it was usually meant to reference things like social skills. He wondered if he could improve things like physical attractiveness.
----------
*Error: Recorded message, 'You are all equally ugly. Idk what you want me to do. Maybe ask for, like, face symmetry or something.'*
----------
Ok. Jack didn't know what else he expected. Fair. He again realized his points wouldn't go far as is. He wondered how low he could get a base stat value through the creation of a specific category?
Jack spent a few minutes playing with categories and ended up identifying one with a 0.5 base stat: 'Sturdiness of Left Foot's Little Toe'. However, anything remotely useful seemed to have a minimum in the 1-2 base stat range. He had decently high hopes for 'Homeostasis of Limited Heat' at 1 stat point. Homeostasis represented the bodies ability to negate factors that would cause it problems otherwise. Anything he could wear to protect himself would act like a coat, and on a summer day that could represent a real danger of heatstroke. Something like a 0.5 increase to the value would mean his body could handle that heat 150% better. Hopefully. But, that was a concept for another time. As his status noted, Jack was being distractable.
Between various distractions about 15 minutes had passed, so he decided to go check on Lily. She probably wasn't done with her bath, but he figured it was a good idea to make sure she didn't need anything. Ascending the stairs and arriving at the bathroom, Jack heard faint gasping through the door. This was concerning. He stood stock still, trying to understand what was going on and if he needed to intervene. It took far too long to realize he was hearing repressed weeping, muffled as she was likely covering her own mouth. Was she trying not to be a burden, or just too afraid to let herself show weakness in front of him? Either way, he needed to escape before she became aware that he had heard her.
He turned around and tiptoed back to the stairs as quietly as possible, wracking his brain to remember every squeaky board on his path. He'd far prefer to be seen by a hoard of zombies than be noticed by Lily in this moment of weakness. He did not have the capacity to diffuse the situation should his presence become known, and had already done enough to limit her trust in him.
Only after arriving in the downstairs living room did he allow himself to breath, thumping down on the couch and putting his own head in his hands. He was back to where he started, overwhelmed and underprepared. How the hell was he going to take care of anyone right now? How was he going to help this kid, when he couldn't even help himself?