Art of the Lows [Dale]

Many a time, the apple in the junc-son's hand would have been all too tempting to try and grab. Not right now, though. These were the more public sections of the slum streets, and that aside, Dale had eaten enough to be getting by on for now anyway.
Instead, he found himself curious as to what had caught this person's attention. Yes, the wall had some colour on it but that wasn't really anything strange. So why?
He looked at the wall, actually paying attention to it for once. And as he looked over, he began to see a shape in the colour, curving lines forming into what approximated letters. He moved back, opened up his view...and he saw something he hadn't seen before, despite the numerous examples he had walked past before.
"What is this...?"

He'd managed to draw attention to himself...never a thing he liked, but in this case, he could live with it. Just as much as the location stopped him trying anything, it kept them from doing stuff too. It was one of the few things about being in public places that didn't fray at his nerves constantly.
Still didn't mean he liked them.

Unsure how to respond, Dale repeats the gesture he was sent, exactly as he saw it. "...no? I've never seen something like this." He looks the sprawling graffiti up and down, keeping one eye on Crow as he does. "Why is this here? Where did it come from?"

"I...don't know?" He looked back to the man. "There might be more? Just didn't notice before." And wasn't that strange to think about? They were so big, and strange, and colourful. By all means, they should have been very noticeable, easy to see when you were near one.
But then again, when you were looking for places to hide, people in hiding, and things to grab, it might be understandable to see a wall over what was on it.

This whole thing was strange to Dale. The person before him just....didn't seem to care that he was there. Instead, he had questions. Like he did, so often. They were even thinking about the same things right now.
A couple of things caught his attention out of that. A word that sounded like it was how this got here, and another that sounded like people. The rest weren't as important, right now. "What is 'painting', exactly? And what are 'vandals'?"

After a moment, Dale nods. "...yes, it does. I...I don't even have to ask what most of what you're saying means."
Its something akin to a religious experience for Dale. Rarely did things make sense at first explanation, let alone so completely as this time. It's entirely novel.
The feeling goes as swiftly as it came, bringing Dale back down to earth. Once more, his gaze runs over the sprawling graffiti, taking in its shapes and its intricacies. And as he looks over it, processing what he just learned, for a brief moment he finds himself detached from the usual plague of persistent terror that had come to hang over so much of his life. From inside his jacket, a little artificial dog clambers onto his shoulder, and looks with him.
As the two of them look on, one of Dale's hands coming up idly to pet the dog that found its way to his shoulder, for once he finds himself with a question with less to do with his lack of knowledge or his survival. "How do I paint things like that...?"

"No..." He shakes his head, not entirely there. "You're fine. No shouting. No saying bad stuff, or trying to get the chasing people. No new words. Just...you say, I know now. It's good."

Dale's gaze returns to Crow as he answers a question he hadn't expected him to answer, listening attentively while Chip continues to stare at the graffiti. "Right..." That mostly made sense...it was another thing that needed money, though. He hoped it wouldn't cost a lot. Like clothes. Clothes always costed lots. Though, there was one thing there he needed to make sure he had before going as far as that. "Imagination?"

"Pet...?" For a moment, he looked confused, until he followed Crow's gaze to the pooch on his shoulder, now looking at Dale with his little tail wagging. He barked as Dale's eyes met his display.
Dale looked back to Crow a little more wary after that, tilting the shoulder bearing the pup away from the person nearby. "...yes. Been with me a long time."

"No, no, nothing happened. I think? Just..." He seems deep in thought. "'Police'. Those people. Didn't have them, before...still learning about them. They act weird. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but not like what I'm used to."

Dale nods. So that's what it was. Made sense. He could do that.
Admittedly, he didn't know what they meant by an 'animal', he'd heard that one a lot...best not to ask more there, just in case. He could learn that himself.

For a moment, Dale just blinks at Crow after his impression, the cogs turning in his mind...metaphorically, of course. His eyes open wide, realising what it was they were doing, and he starts to giggle with childish delight. By the end of it, there's a rare smile on his face. "Chip does it better."
As he calls Chip cute, he remembers the last time he heard the word, and takes him in hands to look at him well. The little dog yips, tail wagging away, and he finds himself realising just what Julie meant before. "...yeah. He is." He lifts Chip up again, and sets him on his head, where the synthetic pup wastes no time making himself comfortable.

Company...? Ah. He...he thought he could guess that. And then...yeah. His eyes drifted up, as if to look at the top of his head...and a little more than they probably should have been able to, honestly. "It is. I...don't know what I'd do without him." The twinkling of his eyes fades a little. "Company...company is good. Only company I have. Ever had."
Fight. Run. Hide. Take. Hide. Move. Take. Fight.
Alone before. Then only Chip. Only one that came with him. Only one that never hurt him.
"...nothing like Chip."