[Cole has Seen Some Shit, let's be clear about that. He's watched so many people die horrifically, and then killed so many, that there's not much that can faze him. The Kalavirus wasn't pretty at all, nor was life as a scav.
But when he sees that fake human flesh, still so plainly meant to be flesh, and he puts everything together, his gorge rises and he has to drop the bag and turn away. Nothing comes out, he doesn't even retch, but it's a very close thing. He's pale and shaky when he turns back.]
[Is he really supposed to be comforted that they're fake here? He still eats people. Cole came from the land of intense starvation and even the West VII never considered going that far.]
[The impact of that shows all over his face, his posture, everything. There's no argument he can make. Even if it was all (all? really?) survival, Petre's clearly in the same situation if the city is giving him something so grotesque. He needs human flesh like Cole needed the shelter and clothing and food he killed for.
His lips twitch and contort, eyes blinking heavily, somewhere between disgust (at himself) and fury (at Petre for hitting the nail so much on the head. Then he just shrugs on his jacket, pockets his phone, and starts to walk away.]
[That's fine. It says a lot about Petre that he does press into it, that he still doesn't laugh at Cole and instead lets him go, finishing his cigarette on his lonesome. With his bag.]
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But when he sees that fake human flesh, still so plainly meant to be flesh, and he puts everything together, his gorge rises and he has to drop the bag and turn away. Nothing comes out, he doesn't even retch, but it's a very close thing. He's pale and shaky when he turns back.]
Jesus fucking Christ.
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You're going to throw up on me now?
[Really, Cole? But at least Petre's disbelief beats just laughing in his face.]
It came out of a lab. No babies were harmed. Relax.
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[Is he really supposed to be comforted that they're fake here? He still eats people. Cole came from the land of intense starvation and even the West VII never considered going that far.]
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[Where's the moral high ground here.]
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His lips twitch and contort, eyes blinking heavily, somewhere between disgust (at himself) and fury (at Petre for hitting the nail so much on the head. Then he just shrugs on his jacket, pockets his phone, and starts to walk away.]
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