Don't Dead, Open Inside || Action

[postocular]

Who: Carl Grimes, a bunch of zombies, and you
Broadcast: kinda?
Action: Waystation
When: Right now


(( ooc: This is a blanket content warning for blood/gore/death. So! There are zombies ahead and you’ve found yourself on the waystation! You have two options: evacuate, or fight them off. Things of note to remember: Being bitten or scratched are the easiest ways for infection. We don’t suggest being eaten. Magic will be hit or miss depending on player preference/discretion. Characters who become zombies will be treated as in-character deaths. Standard rules apply! The event will last a total of 24 hours. Have fun, and enjoy all the undead things. If there are any questions or anything at all, feel free to pm this journal or hit me up at skorozima. ))

[ The Fleet has been floating along its predetermined path for the past few days, getting further and further away from the Yadrolla System and toward unknown territory. Along the way, those oh-so convenient waystations continue to pop up at their usual intervals. Identical in every way to every other, boring waystation. Neat, right? There are even some of those familiar orange-skinned aliens and some human travelers milling about and generally minding their own business. It’s a good place to stretch your legs, get sodas of questionable flavor, and take those nifty new pets for a walk!

Interrupting the general peace of the waystation, a shrill siren starts, and a robotic voice comes over the intercom as well as all communication devices on the station and surrounding spacecraft, repeating a monotone message. ]


ATTENTION. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. LOCKDOWN IMMINENT. ATTENTION. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. CALMLY EVACUATE USING THE NEAREST EXIT. LOCKDOWN IMMINENT..

[ Soon, it becomes apparent to those on the waystation what the emergency is. A gaggle? A murder??? Just.. a lot of undead. They’re not in any particular hurry, shambling and stumbling along.. until they spot what looks like some good eats. That seems to get them excited, arms stretching forward, teeth gnashing, and more growling than any sort of verbal mishmash meant to be words. THEY’RE NOT A WORDY PEOPLE, OKAY?

For those looking to escape, it’s quite easy to outrun them unless you’re not paying attention to your surroundings. Corners can be tough! Just don’t get bit or scratched and all is well, except for their incessant attempts at making you a snack. For those who haven’t come across them before, or have run into some variation of them in another world, they’re resilient up to the point of losing their head or the brain being destroyed. Limbs being broken or missing don’t seem to slow them down, just send them a little off-balance.

All they know is attack and eat.

For those of the fleet still on their ships, they gravitate around the waystation, seemingly not wanting to go anywhere. There is a short window of time from the emergency alert to the entire waystation going on lockdown. Those wishing to help evacuate can do so- but they have to be quick!

Once the lockdown is in place, communication ceases with the waystation. All the rest of the fleet can do is sit and wait, and hope for the best. The doors will re-open twenty-four hours later, once it’s clear the situation is handled and they can regroup, count their losses, and wait once again for the perished to rejoin their ranks. ]

Comments

Carl Grimes || Open;;

[postocular]

[ Death consumes, and all memory fades with it, then a gasp of air, an involuntary spasm of muscles being spurred back into hesitant processes they performed for all of the body's life, heralds a transformation...and a horrifying disaster...No food in sight nor smell. With the awkwardness of a marionette, he’s on his feet, shuffling out into the hallway. Nobody runs- not yet, at least. A sickly-looking human is mostly cause for concern, stopping close enough to wrap thin hands around an arm before latching down on the flesh and muscle.

One becomes two, and two become four. Biting, feasting. Reanimating in a vicious cycle that spreads like a weed.

Perhaps you come across him shambling down a hall, looking to the unknowing eye like he might be in a daze. Maybe you’ve got the unfortunate timing of running into a group of walkers, a familiar one-eyed face staring blankly back. What will you do if he gets up and makes his way toward you? ]

(( ooc: the plan as it stands is that Maggie will be the one to finish him off, but injuries or maiming is acceptable until then! ))

hello darkness my old friend

[veilstrike]

[ Leilani has been tracking Carl through this entire waystation, dodging her way around zombies and monsters and any other word that fits the horror that she sees in front of her. She's tired, using as much of her magic as she has to protect herself and keep them away, and she's running out of steam; the glimpse she'd had of him has faltered. She keeps moving through all the same, tense and dangerous, jaw tight. She has to find him - she has to.

Turning a corner, following the marks and movements on the ground, Leilani stops and pauses, tilting her head.

Scratch. That's a sound. It could be...

She moves over to the door, shifting to reach out a hand, opening it carefully. ]

Da'len?

this is fine.gif

[youdontneedapictureofme]

[It was a race against the clock as Maggie finishes talking to Carl, begging him to hold on until she can get there - until she can kill him, she amends. Halfway between the trip from the Goldstone to the waystation he's directed her to there are some tears. By the time she makes it to the station she has become all business. She has a gun and several knives on hand. She knows the gun will only be necessary should a mob form because by then it won't matter if she stay quiet to avoid attention. If he wasn't careful - if he had somehow been let out of whatever hiding spot he was in - the entire waystation could be filled with infected by the time she gets there.

Her worst nightmare is, of course, realized instantly. When she arrives there is chaos and zombies and it's just like home except not quite. They're all confined to the waystation as soon as it locks down. Maggie hovers in place, knife drawn and eyes wide with terror as she tries to keep her distance from walkers. Her eyes scan each face, looking for Carl. He had to have turned by now or they wouldn't be like this. She had to find him. As she moves, she stops every so often to distract a walker and corner it before stabbing it in the side of the head as quickly as she can, watching each one slump to the floor while the others amble along aimlessly. Every second that went by she was terrified of seeing another familiar face, of the thought that he might bite someone he knew or she knew, accidentally. She wants to say his name, to call out for him, but she knows any sound will draw unwanted attention.]

Stuck in the middle with you...

[tallasaking]

[Tyrion is tearing around this waystation like a man possessed. Of course, if a man possessed had short little legs as Tyrion did, they wouldn't need to stop and rest as often.

Which is how Tyrion ends up in that abandoned hallway, thankfully free of other parties, as he rubs his calves and keeps his mis-matched gaze sliding back and forth.]

leilani lavellan | ota (cw: gore/death/etc)

[veilstrike]

A) SEARCHING FOR CARL

[ Leilani doesn't give a shit about the zombies. She doesn't care about any of the creatures as she moves through the waystation, her staff in one hand, a gun at her hip and a knife in her shoe. Nothing matters other than the fierce determination on her features, the flash of danger, the anger and the burn of rage that colours her features. She had landed, had gone to find her da'len, had emerged in the middle of a pit of shit and now she's mad.

She summons her magic to her hand - the real one, not the prosthetic - and feels her anger bubble. If she had the Anchor... But it doesn't matter.

Leilani moves through the waystation with a single-minded determination, slamming her Rift magic into the body of any zombie that gets close to her. She has no shoes, no armour, nothing that's particularly protective, but she has her determination and her magic. It doesn't matter how long it takes; she can survive this. She can push herself through and find Carl, she can bring him back, she can make sure he's safe -

She can't lose him. She can't. ]

B) OH, SHIT.

[ After finding Carl, Leilani is looking a little bit worse for wear. She's unsteady on her feet as she moves through the waystation, her teeth gritted and her hands clenched as she resists the urge to press her fingers against the horrific wound to her neck. Where flesh and skin should be is a large bite on her neck, where teeth have sunk in and torn parts of her away. Her hands are covered in blood, not all of it her own, and she's shaky and desperate as she fumbles around with whatever she can find.

She needs chains. Ropes. Cuffs. She's seen what's going to happen to her and she doesn't have very long left. No healing magic can fix this, she's sure of that.

Eventually, she runs out of energy and strength. She ends up dropped down against the side of a wall, slipping down, tears gathering in her eyes and rolling down dirty cheeks. What is she supposed to do? No magic to heal, no cure for the bite, nothing to help her... And she didn't even find any cuffs. When she dies - and it has to be soon, though that's making her just as angry as she had been before - she's going to come back and hurt someone, kill them. ]

Please don't find me. [ It's a sad, desperate whisper as she starts to rip at her shirt, anything to try and bind her hands or neck to something. ]

C) CLOSED TO RIONA AND THE IRON BULL

[ Eventually, she dies.

When she comes back, she's not herself anymore. It's almost as if she's being controlled by a spell; she pushes herself up, stumbles forward, lurching from one side to another as she tilts and steps. The horrific wound in her neck is still there, but Leilani does nothing to try and take care of it, nothing to try and manage it, to fix it. She has no conscious understanding of her own hurt, her own wound - her mind is gone completely.

Moving forward, she steps, steps, steps until she finds a corner and turns it. She's directionless, completely, this time, no sense of any purpose other than walking and finding something to eat. She barely even notices any other dead creatures she moves near, stumbling and lurching, before she stops and falters, lifting her head.

Her eyes are void, expressionless - and she lifts her head, baring her teeth. Hungry. ]

sob

[bryces_pup]

[Riona should have known better. It's been far too long since something happened in the fleet. Something bad, anyway. And oh boy does this constitute as bad.

Situations like this are the reason she always carries her sword and shield with her. Many stare at her, but honestly, she doesn't care. Better to be over-prepared than otherwise. All she had wanted was some alcohol and a few snacks, but the moment the alarms started, she knew her weapons were going to be needed.

It's not the first time Riona's dealt with undead. Spirits possess corpses all the time in Thedas. But these shambling corpses are... something else. They bite and scratch at everything living. (Thank the Maker she hadn't brought Kiter along). They're so beyond anything she's dealt with that she almost freezes in panic... at least until one lunges for her. Battle-hardened instinct kicks in and Riona slashes at the zombie. It's deterred but not down. It keeps going at her until finally she decapitates the damn thing, which seems to finally stop it.

Good to know, she thinks. Though she has no idea what she's in for.

Riona cuts a path through the zombies, trying to get to anyone who needs help. Shield in hand, she's able to shove a lot of these undead off cornered travelers, along with keeping them off her person. But it's exhausting, and Riona feels lost in a sea of strangers and zombies.

Then she spots Leilani from behind. Granted, she's rather... cross with the elf right now (guess who talked to Justice), but right now she sets that aside. They're still friends, and ones who are stuck in this hellhole together.]

Leilani!

[She hurries over to her, a relieved expression in place.] This is madness. Have you had any-

[But she pauses when she sees the wound on her neck. Of course her first instinct is to reach out to her and ask her if she's all right. That's what she starts to do, when she then notices the way Leilani's walking. Something is... not right here. The elf still is looking away and hasn't responded at all.]

...Leilani? Are you all right?

Kitty Pryde | Wanted: dead or alive (See what I did there?)

[passingthrough]

[General Opener]

[They were just in a system with plenty of resources and Kitty definitely stocked up on food supplies. As much non-perishable as possible with extra fresh produce and meats as it felt like they got closer and closer to time to leave. And while the cabinets at the Twin Roses are far from empty she still couldn't resist adding on as much waystation junk food as she could carry.

She's got bags loading down each hand as she hears the emergency announcement. She starts making her way across the station to where her shuttle is parked when she spots the cause of the evacuation as a couple of non-fleet people by her in the wrong direction away from a gruesome scene where three people are on their knees over a bloody body, feasting on the flesh.

It's going to be one of those days.]


[Fighting]

[She's trying to remember if this is her first time fighting a zombie hoard. What does that say about your life when you can't quite remember? There were always dinosaurs in the prison and here there have been slavers and cannibals. Maybe in a dream once?

Regardless, aiming for the head for a quick kill was a former assassin instinct of hers already, so there wasn't much trial and error needed. And this is exactly why she always wears her claws. You just never know when you're going to need them. She doesn't know all the rules for how to deal with them, but not letting someone touch you is her mutant instinct so that part's going pretty well too.

Maybe you'll help out mid-fight with a small group. Maybe you just catch her attention after she's cleared the room. Maybe you are the zombie.]


[Phased Rescue]

[You're in trouble. Maybe you've been fighting bravely and there were just too many. Maybe you were caught off guard or unawares. Whatever the case, your back is to the wall and a zombie is within arm's or teeth's length of you and you're about to be compromised. Except you never feel the bite or scratch. It passes harmlessly and impossibly through you instead as solid hands drag you backward through the wall.]

That was close.


[Wildcard]
[A communicator call that gets cut off when they go down? An earlier conversation about how she's loading up on too much salt and sugar? A specific set up that doesn't fit cleanly under the others? Aftermath because it's been a minute and the zombies have been cleared? Come at me!]


(OOC: Not having her turn or die. OTA, but if you have a pre-plotted death at the hands of someone else then we should pre-plan a reasonable exit strategy before engaging. Find me at hauntedreality on plurk!)

Phased Rescue

[collegedropout]

[Oh, there's nothing nicer than a rescue, thank you. Sam had been so busy shoving survivors through the doors into safety that he really didn't have much time to consider he'd be next on the menu. But then the undead just flops right through his held up arms and blade, and he heaves a relieved sigh.]

Where'd you come from? The wall?

[That's a sort of joke, but also probably what actually happened. Hey.]

Aang | Avatar: The Last Airbender

[actually112]

[Lockdown Announcement]

As soon as the alarm starts blaring, Aang is on guard. He's been through this before.

But despite the way every muscle in him has tightened like someone's pulled a string, he still runs through the waystation, helping to gather people up to evacuate. At times, he'll even give them a little push with a gust of wind as he ushers them out.

He doesn't realize how quickly the station will lock down. He's trapped. Again.

And then what can only be described as shambling, grabby corpses come around the corner.

"I knew it!" Aang yells at nothing in particular.

[Fight]

Aang has been avoiding outright destroying the zombies--while he's pretty sure it wouldn't violate his 'no killing' rule if they're already dead, he still doesn't want to--so now he finds himself in a kitchen, the door barricaded and an untold number of zombies banging away at the door.

But Aang, for his part, seems quite calm. He's crouched under the kitchen sink, shooting fire from his hands at the pipe until it glows red.

Then, with a full body 'come hither' motion from him, water suddenly flows through the pipe and out the faucet, and it freezes all at once inside the burning hot pipe.

The metal creaks at the sudden change in temperature, and Aang gives it a swift kick. The pipe cracks, and all at once water starts gushing, unfreezing instantly as Aang jumps to his feet and guides it towards the barricaded door.

Just as the door crumbles under the horde, Aang splashes the water over the first wave, freezing the zombies in a block instantly even as more start climbing over their comrades.

[Wildcard]

[Feel free to come up with a prompt of your own, or PP me at smurfsmuggler!]

lockdown

[veilstrike]

Running around the Waystation hasn't been doing much for her ability to find Carl - she's still completely lost and without any chance of finding him, not unless she can pick up his trail again. Whatever is happening here is leaving her on edge, flashbacks of Crestwood and Spirits and all the other kinds of nightmares rushing around her and dragging her down before she forces herself out of it. Better things to think about, more important things to do, all forcing her to grit her teeth and push through all the creatures she can with what strength she has.

It's a good thing she managed to get her arm back otherwise she'd be in worse trouble.

Turning around a corner, she tenses when she sees a group of the things and a person who thinks it's the best idea to shout at them. Drawing her staff, she summons a blast of Rift magic, sending the undead things flying backwards so she can run forward, quickly, and step in front of the stranger.

"Time to move."

Looma Red Wind | Open

[tough_love]

[ Video / Open / Minutes prior to the emergency message ]

[Looma had come here to continue browsing for more scrap or other material suitable for use in finishing Sokka's armor- as such, she was unarmed for once, which is probably something most people might consider somewhat unfortunate, given how far south this particular shopping trip had gone. For Looma though, it just meant she'd have to deal with some slightly reduced effectiveness at clearing out the undead.

Speaking of which, once she's found a suitably isolated section of the waystation- and had quite the merry time getting there, judging from the blood spattered all over both her and her armor- she's going to make a broadcast. With...one of the zombies. Because of course. For the moment, it's clawing at her arms and trying its hardest to take a bite out of her wherever it can...it's just not having much luck. Try as it might, it just can't break the skin, and honestly it would have about as much success trying to eat one of the bulkheads.]

A question. Or, several, really: What in Tetra's name is this disgusting thing?!

[Really, if the partially-eaten alien zombie took any sort of offense to how she's chosen to describe it, it really doesn't show. It just keeps growling and biting at- alright, it definitely just lost a couple teeth on her upper forearm, definitely more than a little gross, hopefully those aren't too important for...him? It? Whatever.

It's getting annoying now the way it keeps trying to shove her over, so she's going to just put one hand over its head and hoist it off the ground to keep it under control. And at arm's length. Because she definitely doesn't appreciate being slobbered on by whatever the actual hell this thing is.]

Is it sick, or just stupid? I would also like to know why there are so many of them.


[Action | After the emergency broadcast starts | Rescues / Zombie Hunting!!!]

[Looma is absolutely one of those people excited by the Zombie Apocalypse. It's been literal months since she could fight something without having to hold back, at least without having to worry about any tedious conversations about horrifically maiming someone afterward, so she's definitely getting all she can out of this.

And if it ends up helping people in the process, then sure, she's up for that too. But generally speaking, the giant red warrior princess is looking considerably redder than usual as she tears her way through the station just pummeling anything and everything without a pulse into nice red paste with her bare hands and an honest-to-god smile on her face. Sometimes, you just have to take whatever opportunities the universe gives you, and keep any complaints about how gross it all is bottled up so they can be dealt with later. When there aren't things to smash into little tiny pieces.]


[Wildcard]

[Want something more detailed than the options above, like a specific rescue / team up scenario? Or maybe you've just decided that Undeath isn't right for you, and want someone to make it stop? This one's for you!]

Would 1 as [action] work all right? We could lead into 2?

[fightorflug]

"Both. An infection, if I had to guess."

[Flug pipes up meekly, only to realize Looma was addressing the Network and not himself. He is rather underwhelming to look at; pitted against someone of Looma's stature, said inadequacies are all the more apparent. He answers with his communicator anyway.]

"Technically necromancy is also an option, e-except that these look a little too, uh, 'fresh?'"

Nami | OTA

[mikangirl]

[General Opener]

[She shared a shuttle with Sam to shop hey look tonguetwister so he's here somewhere and Nami thinks she really should find him because he deals with this sort of shit on a regular basis, right? (Right?) Because after her initial outrage at Actual Zombies out here in space, it doesn't take long at all for her to realise these aren't the same sort of homegrown ones Moria created back in the day. These ones don't talk, they don't complain, they just...

...eat. People.

And then there's no room for her outrage at all. She's just terrified. Which isn't going to stop her fighting, but you can bet she'd really rather not be doing this on her own.]

[Fighting]

[She finds out very fast that just knocking them down with a staff does nothing at all, and blowing them away with gust sword only stalls them. Great. Downs a fishman, and these things just get up and keep on going. So fine. Lightning it is. And hey, maybe the dark clouds that spring up above her will be a beacon for other Fleet members.]

[False Alarms]

[After realising that being bitten just once is a dealbreaker, she takes extra precautions, and at this point the pirate navigator that's visible is definitely nothing but a mirage, being used as a lure to pull them in close for more efficiency.

Which means it's entirely possible you might come across her just as a zombie lurches forward and latches onto her throat.

Its teeth will snap closed on thin air as it overbalances, but hopefully you had no heart attack or did anything stupid in the meantime :'D Sorry.]

[Freezing]

[She's doing perfectly fine on her way across the waystation trying to find others to help (or an exit) when she finally comes across one of the walking dead that she recognises. Maybe it's a Fleet member. Could be just one of the waystation visitors that she talked to cheerfully just before this all began. Whatever the cause, it's enough for her to lower the staff and back away, face white, mirage dropping away. This isn't something she can do.

A little help would be good.]

[Fwild Card]

[Need an assist? Want a nice easy shopping thread just as this all starts? Anything goes, hit me up.]

fight fight fight

[collegedropout]

[Well, you know Sam, he'll just follow the smell of sizzled zombie and dark clouds. Who the fuck else could that be, you know what I mean? As he knifes one of the undead and shoves them to the side (he's trying to do his usual mantra of this isn't a person anymore, with varying success, but it still has to be done), he makes a beeline for the orange-headed pirate.]

Nami! Get down!

[He's pulled a gun for this one, because the undead looming over her is not gonna be stopped with a knife. It wants to definitely eat her. One pissy hunter on the way and ready to blast through some heads, just for you.]

Maggie | OTA {cw: lots of gore}

[youdontneedapictureofme]

Fools Rush In Where Angels Fear to Tread [Closed to Daryl and Carol]

[As soon as Maggie's shuttle begins booting up, she whips out her communications device again, firing off a quick video to Daryl and Carol.]

I need you to come meet me at the waystation, now. Carl's turning. He went to sleep and woke up infected. Something's wrong - I don't know if it's his augment or something else. Just- just hurry. I don't know if he's had a chance to infect any of the natives.

[Maggie takes a breath, trying not to start crying again like she had as soon as she and Carl stopped talking. She had made him promise to hold on, to keep himself holed up as best he could to keep from infecting anyone. She knew the promise of him being still himself when they got there was futile, but the promise of keeping others safe she knew he'd try to do his best.]

Hell is Empty and All The Devils are Here

[Maggie had just touched down onto the waystation and immediately scrambled frantically, eyes searching for Carl. He'd told her he would be here. The last thing she had expected instead was a growing heard of zombies that had begun attacking frantic natives that were trying to escape. Immediately asserting an all business type authority, Maggie starts barking orders.]

Everyone keep moving! Get to the shuttles as quickly as you can and don't stop.

[She panics for a moment, debating what to do. If she used her gun it would draw the herd. If she tried to get too close, one of them might grab her too. She didn't have a silencer.]

Anyone who has a weapon and is looking to fight, aim for the head once you've disabled their limbs. They won't stop otherwise. Barricade any doors you can but don't get caught up alone with a group.

[She makes her decision, knowing her voice is enough to make noise and draw attention, and starts shooting walkers one by one, finding a table and kicking it over to shield herself should any walkers try to come her way.]

[throwsdown]

[Takeshi does have a gun on him, because he'd learned over time that sometimes fists and kicks won't always handle things — but he does know that his kicks are strong enough to really do some damage to a head, too. When she starts moving on on the hoards and firing shots, Takeshi leaps in from seemingly nowhere to kick one of them square in the temple and caving the thing's head.

They're not people anymore, he has to try to remind himself; they're monsters, changed by something. They're not people. He lands nearby, rushing to Maggie's side. Thank god he has his power suit on him.]

Miss Maggie!!

the Iron Bull || OTA (cw: ...I mean there's zombies. there's gore)

[theirondragon]

[He was just hoping the waystation had some sort of lotion, really. He'd come down without telling anyone because he just wanted to see of the vending machines had anything. Honest. He was pretty sure someone would have told him if there were cannibals.

...the emergency warning suggested this wasn't normal. "Calmly" huh? The crowd of screaming people running didn't seem particularly calm,[ ] and his insistence they should stay calm fell on deaf ears. His height advantage allowed him to see what they were running from though his size didn't allow him to move through the crowd to put himself between them and...that...Them...undead, but...there was something off about them. All the undead he'd ever dealt with still moved like people, but these were like...marionettes dancing on invisible strings. The throng was heading into the courtyard so he allowed his bulk to be moved right along with, cutting to the left of the doorway as he made his way into the atrium. Instincts, of the protective and surviving varieties, kicked in after that.]

Go, go, go!

[Trying to urge the group along worked well enough until one of them stumbled, tripping the others behind them. The walkers were on them in seconds, and for once, he wished he had Cole's speed. As it was, blood spurted from ruptured arteries before he pulled the first one off, grabbing it roughly by the back of its neck and tossing it aside, grabbing a handful of hair with the other and doing the same. The trodden were the dying. There was nothing he could do for them now. Nothing he did for them in the first place.

Nothing to think about now. That door had to be closed, the ones that got in needed to be dealt with. They were all fresh, most of them with pieces hanging out in places that had no business being open and walking around. Odds were, the people who'd been running for safety were going to get up pretty soon and look for a Qunari snack.

He grabbed the closest thing not pinned down and swung, only after connecting with the movement he'd sensed to his left, one of the ones he'd tossed aside by the look of it, did he realize it was a 6 foot potted ficus. The plastic pot shattered, but so did the thing's skull, spewing teeth and bone along with plastic shards across the artificial lawn.

It stopped moving. That was good to know. The fake stem of the thing was sturdy, too. It didn't break. Another quick pivot and the doors were slammed shut, the stem...trunk thing jammed as to keep them shut. He pivoted away from one of the new ones who'd gotten up, at least they weren't too fast, and found something else to at least ease his way across the lawn.

It wasn't a shield, but a bench would work as a battering ram, at least to clear the ten he was trapped with, and if it splintered, all the better. He a shout, he charged as they gathered, park bench leading, and shoving walkers out of the way as he went. He needed a proper weapon. Badly.]

[outstandingbalance]

[The shout and the sounds of someone fighting—fighting rather than shuffling or being slaughtered—draws Natasha. She knows the difference. Everything's gone to hell.

She can't say she likes it.

But she's not going to leave someone out here if she can help. Even less so if that someone can watch her back. They'll get a lot further around here if they're not on their own.

She darts through the undead, fast and strong, and very, very aware of where each of them are. She's armed with a heavy utility knife and a scavenged length of pipe, sturdy and long enough to make a useful club.

And after she takes down two of them, braining one with the pipe and driving her knife through the eye socket of the other, she tosses the pipe his way.]

Think fast.

[She pulls her knife free of the dead, pushing its inert form to the floor with one booted foot before the others can turn on her.]

Dr. Stephen Strange | OTA

[nomadeupname]

LOCKDOWN

[It's Strange's first drift since his joining of the fleet, and way-stations are still a novelty to be explored, despite their simpleness. Unfortunately for his curious side, this way-station is very similar to the first one he's visited, until the lockdown announcement resonates across the station. Realizing he might be too far from the same dock he's boarded the station from, he helps ushering people out the nearest exit as he slowly moves back to where he started.

The evacuation seems to go on smoothly, until a scream echoes around a corner, causing a wave of panic through the crowd as people pushed their way forward. Stephen only has time to kick off the ground, hovering over the crowd as the Cloak ripples to life before he can be trampled alive by the scared crowd. From his higher point of view, Strange manages to see what's caused the commotion: a herd of mindless creatures are gathering around what looks to be a bleeding corpse on the ground. Some of the monsters have been moving on because of the lack of space to grab some fresh flesh. They are slow, but they out-number the living crowd by now, and the hallway to the exit is too small for both crowd.]

Keep moving!

[He calls out as he touches ground between both crowd, and summons a sword out of his Eldritch magic. He's never fought zombies before, and Stephen is not even sure they're the same undead he's read about in the New York Sanctum's library, but he's seen enough horror movies in his youth to know what's slowly advancing toward him]

Zombies. Of all the things, it had to be zombies...



FIGHT

[It's his ability to levitate that gives him an advantage over the mindless hordes in the station. Heads roll easier when they're severed from a safe distance. When the number of zombies is too overwhelming, he hovers from a safe distance, using his Eldritch whip to pull off the heads of the undeads closest to him. It's tiresome work, but if it keeps safe the people left behind after the evacuation, he'll be at it until the threat is dealt with.

He's almost out of the station's courtyard, alone for once, when he hears someone scream close by. He runs toward the sound, taking to the air when he comes across another herd of zombies. He sees someone pinned down against a wall, their exit route cut off by the dangerously close undeads. In a matter of seconds, Stephen has summoned his Eldritch whip and sends it toward the lone living soul battling for their life:]

Hang on!

[If they choose to grab on to the other end of the whip, Strange is going to pull hard on it, pulling them up and away from the herd. As they both land away from the zombies, they are both safe. For now...]


AFTERMATH

[Twenty-four hours. A full day of fighting for his life and protecting those that couldn't fight. Stephen has seen more deaths in the past hours than during his whole medical career, and it takes a toll, no matter how much he doesn't want to admit it. When the lockdown is finally lifted and reinforcement comes to help, only to find out that the situation has been taken care of, Stephen is sitting on the floor, exhausted. He watches as people floods in again, looking for teammates and loved ones and the station echoes with wails of sorrow instead of mindless groans, and Strange closes his eyes bitterly:]

I need a drink.

[Nevermind that he hasn't touched a single drop of alcohol since his accident...]



[WILDCARD]

[ooc: Not finding something that tickles your fancy in here? Want to plot something specifically with Strange? Hit me on PM or at nuevayuimaxwell]

aftermath

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha's seen death before. More of it than she cares to think about. She's not about to start ranking today against her other experiences.

It's enough to say it ranks solidly among them.]

How do you feel about vodka?

Natasha Romanoff | MCU | OTA - probably some violence/mild language

[outstandingbalance]

Never a dull moment. [Natasha mutters when the alarm starts, words flippant but demeanor grim as she turns, pulling a utility knife from it's place in her coat. She'd rather not pull her gun somewhere like this. Too many civilians. Too much chance of doing damage to the way station itself.

Calmly, collected, she turns toward the direction of the commotion, directing anyone she meets toward the nearest exit.

When she spots the first shambling, pale zombie, she recognizes it. Not the person it used to be. She's never met this particular victim before. But she knows what she's seeing. She saw it in Carl's memories.

Good news: she knows the rules.

Bad news: she knows just how dangerous this is.

Softly, but with feeling:] Shit.

[reconstitution]

[ Never a dull moment, indeed. He glances at Natasha and follows suit, the knife at his back coming out and into his right hand. It's not a situation he's familiar with, but she seems to know what's going on and how to deal with it, so he'll follow her lead.

Bucky does raise an eyebrow at her, though. ]

Last time I let you pick the outting.

[ Well, they can laugh or they can panic, right?? ]

Makie | OTA

[therewerefifty]

[And now, on her ever-current search for a decent packet of tea leaves: the walking dead.

It's a curiosity. Or it would be, if she didn't know there were a lot of panicking people on board this waystation, passengers and tourists from other locales alike. She wonders if the Atroma is to blame. Kitty's here, somewhere, but Kitty is untouchable when she wants to be. She's not too worried about that captain, at least. She's not worried about herself, either. She has a bladed weapon with an eight foot reach, and it's hardly as if these creatures pack guns or magic, apart from a strange tenacity to just keep moving.

She moves through the waystation, avoiding a fight where she can, engaging only when a zombie gets too close or she can intervene and save someone from being bitten. But one by one, she'll track down the innocents she can and ferry them back to the shuttle bay to barricade themselves in safety.

It's a test of her newly rebuilt stamina, anyway. She hasn't had to lift a weapon since she arrived. She can process the rest later.]

[throwsdown]

Hang on, I got you!

[The familiar young voice isn't yelling at Makie, but instead at a fully grown woman he's dragging around on his back; she's not bit, just has a broken ankle from her attempts to get away from the things, and Takeshi's not about to leave anyone to their dooms. But with someone on his back, it leaves very little room to fight. He can only flee.

Don't mind him rushing in your general direction with a hoard right behind him.

It's all good.

Alllll goooood.

Under control, 100%.]

Carol Peletier | OTA

[perservering]

i. 'cept nobody is supposed to know Window shopping

[ Back home, Carol walks a lot. It is rare to find a working vehicle, and horses are a gamble that are generally not worth it. Walking is slow, but it's quiet. And in being slow and close to the ground, you notice more things than you would have otherwise. Things that have saved her life on more than one occasion.

The transition to the more sedentary lifestyle on the fleet has been difficult. She can't help but feel fenced in, even when hopping from ship to ship to visit her friends or the library or the garden. It's just like it was before, when you would spend all summer driving from one air conditioned indoors place to another rather than deal with the heat. No matter where she goes in the fleet, there's a very limited amount of space she can actually be.

The waystations aren't much of a break but they're something. So she takes Spike, the lizard she adopted at the Yadrollan pet drive (her one last act of support for the Green Gliders) for a walk. She doesn't have any intention of doing anything in particular, and is content to just take in the sights of this glorified rest stop. She's armed, of course. A knife at the small of her back and a pistol in a shoulder holster, concealed by a sensible cardigan. (Why is space so cold?)

She's just about to try one of the sodas when the sirens start. She frowns in concern and glances at a nearby co-contestant. ]

What does that mean?

ii. 'cause he doesn't know what I do Mid Fight

[ The situation rapidly deteriorates. If this were happening back home, she'd leave. She'd find an escape route and take it and write this place off as lost until the herd wandered off and then maybe, maybe come back sometime for a salvage run. If there were no better options.

Instead she has to live through this, along with whoever else is fortunate enough to have found themselves in the care of one of the deadliest women in the zombie wasteland that used to be northern Virginia.

Some damned fool up the hall from her seems pretty good at taking the walkers down but not finishing them. She has to take about twenty minutes stabbing the still-biting undead in their brainstems before finally catching up whoever it is whose ignorance is stopping them from actually being effective. Finally, she catches up to them. ]

Hey! You gotta kill the brain. Otherwise they'll just keep going. And if one of those things grabs your ankle when you don't expect it, it's over.

iii. And no attention goes to show Aftermath

[ She felt nothing during it. No, not nothing. Relief. The peace really had been too good to be true. The walkers were there, even in space. It used to be that death waited. That the natural consequence of living was that someday,
you would die. Now everything in life is hunted and consumed by death.

What she wants is to sit on the porch in the evening air and smoke a cigarette and just hold on to the not-feeling a little it longer. Because as bad as the battle is, and as weird as the not-feeling is, when the feeling comes back it's worse. But she doesn't have a porch. Or a cigarette. Or evening air.

Instead she finds herself on the Iskaulit in the greenery, looking at the peach tree.]

iv. So I creep, yeah, just creepin' on Wildcard!

[ Hit me up on PM or at barbeauxbot if you want to do something else! ]

Mid Fight

[throwsdown]

[Takeshi wipes at his cheek where there's a small splatter of blood from the last walker he'd 'killed', and then turns quickly toward the commanding voice; she's from the fleet, he knows that much, but he hasn't really had a chance to meet her. Maybe this isn't such a good time to introduce yourself, but Takeshi's always been the odd one out, right?

The other survivors around him all seem to be listening, which is a good sign, and Takeshi rushes forward and grabs one of the undead, throwing the whole thing into the air and at the wall. Its head pop-splats against the unforgiving metal wall before he turns and rushes to help with the other shambling figures.]

Everyone say together! Keep an eye out for each other! Look out on your left!

[Takeshi isn't familiar with zombies — but he's very familiar with killing monsters.

He just has to think of them as contagious ones, and that'll be just like home.]

Katie - OTA

[hollystrike]

[Tell her at the start of the day that she'd be fighting a zombie invasion and Katie would have been all sorts of gleeful. But the reality is sadly something even she can't find entertaining; they're zombies that clearly used to be people, victims, shambling lifeless husks, and her magic is powerful in its own ways but not when it comes to this. Ineffective against undead who just keep getting up, only good to buy space.

She still has Kirito's lightsaber, but it's designed for a much smaller person. There isn't as much reach as she'd like, as much as she needs, and yes, perhaps a mental note that it's about time she got around to forging a new sword, Mihawk would be so annoyed with her about this whole thing-- she's good with it, though. Lethally so. And so Katie holds her own for a while, whittling off her glamour piece by piece in yanking people out of harm's way, healing the rare few she can get to in time, and feels a growing dismay that not only is she getting tired, there's no real way for her to recover. (And this is why she avoids so many corpses, it's such a drain, these creatures have nothing but the drive to eat and attack and--)

Whatever. She'll get out when she thinks she's at her limit.

...

...problem with Katie is she's never been great at judgment calls.]

[canofmanji]

[Manji was stuck in this position specifically because he was trying to avoid Katie. So he's not exactly thrilled to see her here, but he can see she's looking a bit tired and it's not like he wants her to actually come into any real harm. He doesn't dislike her that much. So he calls out when he first spots her.]

Hey! Aren't captains suppose to be on their ships? [Not that he's getting her attention to make sure she's alright or anything.]

Manji | OTA

[canofmanji]

A. With foot

[Manji isn't concerned at first when the place goes into lock down. There didn't seem to be that much of an emergency to him. Then he notices that some of the people on this station appear to be eating other people trapped on this station. Ahhhh. That'd be why.

For a guy with only one arm he fights remarkably well with the sword he purchased at the last planet. He swings away with deadly aim. Wasting no time going for the vitals on group of men terrorizing another group.]

Are you alright?

[Too bad Manji didn't take their heads off as those zombies he just cut down start to get back up.] Heh! [He grins.] Are you immortal too? Now this is getting a bit more interesting. [He wonders if they're as immortal as he is. So he changes tactics and starts swinging for the heads. That seems to be working better.]

B. Closed to Makie

[At some point during the fighting Manji starts to get sloppy. It's a bad habit he's developed after being immortal so long. Not to mention these fights are a bit boring for his standards. He doesn't even notice a zombie that hasn't quite lost it's head yet. Even without it's lower limbs it drags itself close to Manji and sinks it's teeth into his ankle. Mmmhmm! Delicious leg!] OW!

C. Without Foot

[People may be use to seeing Manji among the fleet with only one arm. Only now he appears to also be running around with only one leg. This may be slowing the samurai down, but it's certainly not stopping him. His leg stub seems fully healed despite having only lost the limb a couple hours ago. He may spend a lot of the fighting now hugging the walls and counters or just hobbling on the stump directly, but he's not letting it stop him from continuing to fight.

Of course lost isn't exactly the right word. No. He has the leg tucked into his waist belt and occasionally gives it a bit of a poke. When he does it twitches back a bit like a zombie might move.] Aw, hell. Not ready yet.

D. Wild Card!

[Or create your own starter!]

[therewerefifty]

[Makie isn't even going to give him the benefit of a heads up. She's close enough to see the bite, and... well, she owes him, even if he can't remember. She breaks from her current fight, sliding under the grasp of several zombies to finish up on her knees six feet away.

Manji might notice the bite of her weapon first, though, carving cleanly through flesh and bone as low as she dares. She doesn't know if the bite itself is what causes this or whether it's just poisonous, but either way; every victim here is adorned with bite marks, some in relatively harmless places.

...and if she's wrong, he can just stick his leg back on. Stupid immortal swordsmen.]

Dr. Flug Slys | OTA

[fightorflug]

1.) FIRE, TO DESTROY ALL YOU'VE DONE [Action/ zombie torching]
[Flug could see why the undead appealed to most villains. They helped sow terror, they worked for free, and they imbibed that ever popular skull aesthetic, evil decorators couldn't seem to do without. Beyond that, however, clients never stopped to think about how easily they could lose control and how little it took to reach that position. Aside from being a generally stupid waste of resources, in the end, they were unprofitable and hard to manage. And right now they are in the way of his supply run.

That's what Flug keeps telling himself, as he welds several odds and ends together with the Red Fish soldering gun, before finally adding that too, to the cobbled together instrument of destruction. With his makeshift flamethrower firmly strapped to his back, the weapons technician torches every groaning body that shambles his way, as he makes his descent further inside, the machine parts rattling as they barely contain the explosive force he wields.

Just a quick trip. Get in, get what he needs, and get out. It's not like he is about to get held up saving people. This isn't bravery and it isn't kindness, it's merely a solution to a problem that happens to benefit him as much as anyone else. If someone happens to use his being there to burn some of their own problems away, well, who is he to argue? Flug does his best to suppress the cold pit of fear settling in his gut, but for now the adrenaline and this improv blowtorch are keeping him warm.]

2.) SEARCH AND DESTR--RESCUE? /[Action] Co-op!]
[Until the device starts to come apart.]

"Oh-- nononoyoucan'tbeserious!"

[Flug hisses beneath his breathe as the invention begins to sputter and cough out several plumes of smoke just like his hopes and dreams. Altogether it's not so surprising, he threw this together so quickly and nothing in the lab was working right! It was like even the temperature he welded with had a different melting point than the one in his own Universe. Maybe he really did need to look into an augment upgrade. If he has the chance. He might actually die here.

The inventor swallows, gripping the faltering weapon tighter as the horde begin to take renewed interest in him. There should be enough juice to get out one more good blast, but the exit may as well be on the opposite end of a warehouse. It's only one long stretched of enclosed space, but unless he has some help clearing the path or an inhuman burst of speed, he won't be making it out of this one easily...]

2

[bi_otic]

[Even though the chances dwindle by the moment, Kaidan keeps making sweeps through the station looking for living people he might be able to herd to somewhere safe, until all this blows over.

If it blows over.

Not that he has any choice but to keep going. Keep moving. Keep shooting.

A few energy blasts sound from behind Flug, downing or staggering a few zombies, announcing Kaidan's presence before his booted footsteps can be heard]

Death ll Open

[ultima_mortis]

In the Beginning:

[The bar area was enough like most bars that Death felt quite at home. You don’t become his line of work without seeing the seemingly sturdy finding a quick end on the floor of a pub. As such, he’s sipping a bit of the old fruit juice and alcohol when the alarms start going. As the other patrons begin to shuffle out quickly, he takes time to leave money on the counter. Thus, he is alone when he first hears the undead lurching towards him. It’s a familiar, yet disturbing sound. Generally, his undead types tend to be quite lucid, but these are…different. Death gets up slowly from his chair and a small sweep of one arm reveals a sword sheathed at his waist. He places his hand on the hilt and announces a simple threat calmly to the hoard:]

STAND DOWN OR I WILL CUT YOU DOWN.

In the Middle Bit:

[Have you ever seen a robed skeleton fighting off zombies with a sword? It’s every bit as metal as it sounds and Death is displaying disturbingly accurate methodology in dispatching the legions of the undead. His sword has the slightest blue sheen about the blade as he swings it left ways and right. Limbs, including heads, are quickly littering the floor as the undead brutes try and find chewy bits to scratch and eat. Luckily for Death, he never had those bits in the first place, and thus is in the rare advantage of being immune to the undead. Have at thee zombies!]

[The middle bit] If you're okay with a late tag-in?

[fightorflug]

[Unfortunately for Death, prolonged exposure to the Undead and being trapped with the creatures for several hours has left Flug more than a little twitchy. The Scientist rounds the corner with a quick blast from his flame-spewing invention and promptly squeaks when he all but barrels into the robed skeleton.]

"W-wait, you're--?!"

[He'll be impressed by your sword skills in a second, but at the moment he is too torn about whether or not to roast the skeleton as well.]

Psycho Mantis ll Open

[ginger_firebird]

[Boy, you know tranquility can kill you. Mantis is currently clinging to every light fixture and elevated surface as he reevaluates the life choices that led him to this moment. He was hungry and needed to stretch his legs. He decided to relax at the waystation while getting said food. The dead began to march. Much as he tries, he can’t quite work out why he’s suddenly the victim of a horror movie instead of the lead role. The undead swipe and paw at him not unlike proverbial crabs in a barrel, but Mantis swiftly works to break the legs of whichever ones come close. He’s currently sitting on top of a wall fixture looking down at a small group of the undead reaching up at him from the floor. If he just keeps moving, he’ll be all right. Right?]

[hollystrike]

[Certainly the pile of broken-legged zombies on the ground gets her attention even before she sees who they're attempting to reach. Katie skids to a halt nearby with laser sword in hand, peering at them with a mix of bewilderment and amusement, and then glances up to see Mantis.]

Need a hand?

daryl dixon ][ ota!

[worn_wings]

1.

[ He barely makes it, before the station gets locked down. As soon as he gets the message he bolts-- but knowing what's happening, what might happen, what it might mean, he doesn't go empty-handed. Before the general alarm goes out he's already raiding the Tourist's supply of weapons, and when he makes it onto one of the last transports, he looks ready to face Hell itself.

If you catch him on the way to the station-- he's going to try to talk you out of going. But he's not wasting time, either. ]

2.

[ When this is all over, he's going to grieve. It might not strictly be his fault that this happened, but he didn't manage to stop it. Didn't even get a chance to say--

shit, what can you even say?

But for now: this is familiar, and he falls into the rhythm of defense with no hesitation and no fear. Anyone fighting, he'll fight beside. Anyone trapped, he'll try to rescue. For the most part he's sticking to knives or improvised blunt objects, trying to avoid the noise and collateral damage of firearms when possible, though he's not shy about doing whatever it takes. ]

2

[passingthrough]

[Kitty doesn't actually know what's going on. She has no idea about Carl. She was here to get sweet and salty snack foods. Hoards of them. And then there was undead cannibalism that went from seemingly containable to completely unwieldy. She almost can't even be surprised. She's seen so much across her time at home and in the prison and now in the fleet. If anything she's relating this to some variant of the cannibals on the world they were on months ago. It's definitely different though.

She's been lucky. She may not know all the ins and outs of what she's dealing with. But her instinct in a fight is to stay untouched and her power to be literally intangible at will definitely helps there. And she was wearing her claws because she's always wearing her claws. They're basically just very large bracelets until she extends the three metal blades loaded into each gauntlet. She delivered a few early blows to the chest and gut to no avail before limiting her strikes to headshots only since those work. She wanted to avoid killing them at all, but those plans had to be thrown out pretty early.

The biggest problem she faces is that they bunch up on her. She can always phase herself out of the situation, but it's hard to get very many of them before she's having to do that. She's in a corridor now with several coming at her as she walks backward. She runs her claws into one as he lunges toward her.]

Grrr, aaaargh, is that all you guys ever say?

for Panem!Bucky

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ When the announcement'd happened, Sam hadn't let himself panic. It's not like fighting zombies is all that new for him, with the shit that went on in the arenas, and honestly - there's almost a feeling of finally, like he's been waiting for the other shoe to drop since he got here and now it's happened.

After that, fighting them is easy. He's single minded in his focus - survive, kill as many of them as he needs to until he finds Bucky - and he shows no hesitation, no emotion as he fights his way through. He can't, because if he lets himself feel all he's going to do is work himself up into a frenzy that Bucky's not with him, that every moment that goes by is another moment that he doesn't know if he's safe or not.

So he uses his wings as both shield and weapon against the zombies, protecting himself as he moves and flinging them off if too many of them get close, launching up to free himself and using anything he can get his hands on to smash their heads open.

He's running down a corridor too low for him to be able to fly effectively when he spots Bucky, and he curses as he pushes himself to run faster, barreling into the zombies in his way wings first. ]

[hollowvictor]

[Bucky had been doing fairly well for himself considering he'd never faced zombies in his arena or in Thirteen. It wasn't hard to figure out 'shoot in the head' and being a good shot helped.

He'd gotten a few innocents away when the trouble had started, but he'd be lying if he said his first thought was't Sam. He knew the other man could take care of himself, but anytime danger cropped up, his heart seized, his stomach twisted and his mind jolted into Thirteen's Soldier mode. Except towards the end in Panem and especially now, his first priority was Sam Wilson and how Bucky could get himself to his place at Sam's back.

This was one of those times. He blasted through with impeccable shots until he'd found himself taking a narrow corner that lead nowhere. Whatever path had been there before was gone now, abruptly cut off by a hasty patch job of decayed, twisted, metal as time and disrepair had done their work on this forgotten part of the waystation; that was at his back now. To his left: zombies. To his right: safety quickly cut off as more shambling figures headed toward him.

He let out a sharp sigh and took aim at the monster closest. He was not dying down here.

It wasn't a conviction that held much weight until he heard heavy footfall and the sound of metal impacting flesh. He took aim at the next zombie in the group who'd initially chased him down here, turning his back to the last few still between him and his winged warrior.]

Keith: OPEN

[tempredmental]

[Well, one small consolation was that Keith didn't travel anywhere without his Marmora knife these days. So, he was at least armed. However, hanging out on a waystation hadn't been enough to warrant wearing one of his armored suits, so he was running around the station, rescuing people and trying not to get bit, in regular clothes, swinging around that fancy shape-shifting dagger/sword of his. Once he found out that he needed a head kill on these things, it was go-to-town time.]

[scalpelofmarmora]

[Well, at least he wasn't alone in the station with fighting these zombies. There was another Blade of Marmora member in the station as well. He had spotted Keith at some point and decided to stay around to make sure he was safe. Shiro would kill him if something happened to the other paladin and he had been there.

It was good that he was though because at some point, he came upon Keith again, fighting a group of zombies... while one was "sneaking" up behind. Ulaz immediately raced forward and stabbed it in the head]

Careful. They are all around.

[bi_otic]

A. Sanctuary

[Once the lockdown had gone into effect, Kaidan could only do his best to keep moving. Sure he could have gone with the evacuees - he'd had the opportunity to make it before the shutters closed them all into this floating deathtrap - but the possibility that there were other still living people trapped aboard the station held him back.

It turned out he was right, and a few hours later he's got a system going. After finding a storage area with only one entrance - probably some kind of maintenance bay, going by the equipment scattered around - he'd designated it as a temporary safe house.

He's returning to it now with a pair of terrified people and, naturally, they've got a small group of zombies on their trail. Panting, Kaidan runs up to the door and bangs on it to get the people inside to un-barricade it and let them in. The zombies, meanwhile, shamble tirelessly towards them.]

Any day now!

B. Space Wizard needs food badly

[This is the kind of thing the instructors would have torn him to shreds for, but he hasn't seen much option. Lacking grenades, biotics were an effective tactic in holding back their numbers, especially when one was outnumbered. Which he pretty much always was. His amp is hot, his head is aching, and his energy is dangerously low after hours of this. Most battles don't go for this long, and he needs calories to sustain the strain on his body.

Silly him, for forgetting to pack an energy bar.

Thankfully, there are some to be found on the station.

Not thankfully, they're stuck in these stupid vending machines which are of course shut down like everything else on the station.

The solution is apparently to try to break it open, but these vending machines are apparently tougher than zombies. Especially when you're very, very tired.]

Come on you piece of junk [He gives the thing another kick, but clearly he's losing steam]

3. Wildcard

[Kaidan is constantly on the move, looking for survivors and killing zombies with his mix of biotics and fleet-issue rifle. There's no hesitation here, only experience and training and the inability to sit still while people needed help</small?]

b!

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Sam - might not look like the most reassuring person right now, considering both he and the metal wings sprouting from his back are splattered with zombie gore. He'd come over to investigate the noise, and there's a moment where he almost turns away when it isn't more zombies or the person he's looking for.

But he'd have never turned away back home, before everything, and he fights the urge to keep moving, keep taking out the threat.

Instead, he makes his way closer, holding himself carefully like he's still kind of expecting a fight. ]

Need a hand?

Ulaz | Open and oh so late

[scalpelofmarmora]

[Ulaz had been on the waystation, checking on supplies. Perhaps it was a feeling of nostalgia or perhaps the general concern about being on a waystation that they didn't know the maintenance schedule of, but he was wearing his Blade of Marmora armor with his sword.

But yes, when the alarm goes off, like he is going anywhere, intending to stay on the station, for the moment leaving his mask off. Drawing his sword, he makes his way through the group of zombies, intending to help those unaffected find some place to hide until this is over. He was completely unconcerned for himself as he moved through the waystation]

[warpandweft]

[This is like...nothing Alucard has ever experienced. Perhaps the closest he'd ever come were the people who had been controlled by Osaron's magic. In some ways, he gets the same sense, the mindlessness of their advance.

But at least they had been whole. Human. Not...this, whatever this is.

He's lucky that when the alarms begin to blare, he's just outside a small cafe. It means that he's able to think quickly, dart inside and collect a handful of knives from the tables. (They're only butter knives, but that isn't necessarily a problem. He can shape them.)

They turn out to be...mildly effective weapons. He picks up a few larger blades as he goes. His hands are stretched to either side, a dozen small (or not so small) knives and spearhead-shaped objects suspended in mid-air around him. A few civilians he's picked up follow him closely, looking terrified. Whenever he encounters a zombie, Alucard sends the metal out towards them to pierce and stab.]