Jackson's blue eyes glanced back and, with some amusement and some confusion, noted how she attempted to follow his lead in the exact. He had asked if she was okay climbing rope... which he figured would allude to the fact that she didn't have to follow the tightrope example that he did. It... whatever. He didn't have time to bother with it.

The hoard that burst from the doorway was almost impressive, stumbling over each other but none of them dared to reach over the edge of the building. A crushed host was no good to them or the hivemind.

"Don't look down, if you need to just shimmy your way across," Jackson called back at her, breaking his silence. His words were... tired and almost exhausted at best. It wasn't peppy, not really encouraging, just a set of instructions as a failsafe.

Jackson did his best, crossing the line in about five or so minutes. "Good," he said in return. It was for the best, after all, the sea of the hoard below was unnerving. He couldn't quite tell if it was better or worse than just seeing pavement. The movement of the undead almost gave off the vibes of water or grass or something else. All in all, just an awful vibe.

He leapt off and onto the next building, finally turning around to watch Vanessa with the eyes of a hawk. Every movement was picked up, every shaking, everything. It wasn't unnoticed by the young man, his hands on the edge, poised and ready to reach out to the young woman.

"Aside from near death experiences, I gather you've probably had other stuff going on," Jackson mused, finally reaching out to help her onto the side of the building.

Jackson was quick to let go of her, mostly out of the habit of giving someone else the space they needed. Personal space was an important piece of safety, especially now. But, she seemed to relax fairly quickly. Well, "relax" was a loose term. They were both hyper aware of the hoard that growled and howled at them from the other rooftop and the shuffling below them.

His blue eyes scanned over her, subtly searching for injuries. "Mmh, y'know. Not bad," Jackson finally said quietly. "I might have... scouted out a place that seems fairly safe. But ... uh, pleasure, Vanessa."

He tapped his fingers on his hip, swallowed and then extended his hand. "Jackson," it was the best introduction that he could think of.

In all honesty, Jackson was scrambling at what used to be custom for meeting people back when the world was... back when the world had more alive people and less of the zombies that roamed it. All in all, it was still essentially more or less the same crap fest that was going on now.

"I don't know for certain," Jackson said quickly, trying to force himself to speak more than just a whisper. But even still, his voice was soft and quiet. "But you are welcome to accompany me there," he said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck after a moment or two.

Jackson's sapphire eyes lowered to his feet, kicking at the ground with the toe of his worn out All-stars. The laces were frayed and it was held together with some sort of strange conglomeration of string, rubber bands and the works. The DIY was astounding and oozing from the sheer look of it. But the motion he made was far more of a response from her words than anything else. He felt that way too. So tired of being alone, so tired of constantly worrying, of having no way to tell if his ideas were good or the last idea he'd make.

Either way, he glanced back up and bobbed his head. "I'm ... I'm tired too," Jackson admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not used to being with anyone else so I'm sorry if I... do things weird or if I mess up."