driftfleet | Don't Dead, Open Inside || Action

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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ There aren't many other places he can be on a locked down waystation, so she will run into him much sooner rather than later. When she does come across him, it's probably not something she ever wanted. He's there, much like all of the walkers are, herded into the emptying hallways. As she rounds a corner, there is blood- of course, there's blood everywhere at this point. The sound draws his attention.

He looks up from the corpse he was hovering over, face stained in blood, and nothing but hunger left in that one, void eye. Standing much like someone was pulling the strings, Carl shambles toward Maggie, an arm outstretching toward her with that rasping, hungry groan. ].

[Maggie freezes in place, catching Carl's attention. He stands there, the ends of his long hair and his chin dripping with fresh blood, and hovers over a corpse of his latest victim. Not far is his hat, blood stains marring the fabric. It was agony, just looking at him.]

C'mon, Carl. Come with me. We'll fix it.

[She whispers, hands raised with a knife held firmly in her grasp. She takes a few steps back, eyeing any nearby zombies that stopped to gather around their current victim to devour what flesh they could. She takes another step, and another, her eyes never straying far from Carl as she coaxes him back the hallway she had come down. She needed to get out of the hallway before other walkers got the bright idea to follow them. If she got backed in she was toast. When this was over, she would come back for his hat and make sure he got it.]

[ He follows the prospect of more food, because it's all he knows, now. The one arm remains outstretched toward her as he stumbles along. The gait is awkward and uneven, the crunch of grinding bone sharp in the quiet space as shambling steps are taken. His right leg, clearly broken, doesn't seem to deter the hunger nor the determination to get to her, even if it isn't at a breakneck speed.

Food. Eat. Hunger. Need. ]

Edited 2018-06-12 01:13 (UTC)

[As they get farther down the hall, back out the way she came and towards the open to try and lure him alone and away where anyone else might see him when she planned to strike. She wanted it to be just the two of them. He had been there for her through so much and now it was her turn to repay the favor.]

Just a little more...

[She looks for things to trip him up on, knocking over things as she can. She was delaying this, not able to find the stomach for just moving in to kill him just yet. It hurt. It made her heart ache, but she remembered how ready he was even at such a young age to do what had to be done. She needed to be brave. For him. He would do the same for her.]

[ Food keeps walking away, but he needs to get to it.

Hungry.

He shuffles forward, tripping over one of the obstacles in the way. His leg is useless, won't support his weight to get to food faster. He drags himself along the floor, occasionally reaching to swipe out at her despite how far away she is. Eventually, he'll get to food. That milky, dead eye looks at her hungrily. ]

[Maggie takes a gulp of air, watching him stumble around with that mangled leg of his and it honestly hurts. When he collapses, tripping over one of the obstacles between them, she feels herself hesitate. This would be the time to end him. It's what he would want, to have family do it. It's what she would want in his shoes. No hesitating, no fear, just doing what they had to do. They all had jobs to do and this was hers.]

Carl. [She speaks to him, as if it was any normal day, the place wasn't crawling with undead, and everything was fine except for how serious her tone was. She was glad he was looking at her. For a moment she could pretend, even if it made this all the more real.]

I am... so sorry. [She draws a breath, choking on a sob as she moves into his space, weapon raised to strike.]

[ It takes longer to drag himself forward with that leg that suddenly refuses to work. So long as he can keep moving, he can get to food. She calls his name though he doesn't understand anything past noise, but he looks at her nonetheless. His jaw moves, growling at her as she comes into his space. Bloodstained fingers grab at her leg. ]

Shhh. It's okay. It's okay.

[Her eyes burn with tears as she kicks away his hand grabbing at her leg, bringing her foot down onto his arm for a moment before stepping away from it entirely. She debates how she should do it - just for a split second. She didn't have a split second. She knew walkers were strong, had seen them get the upper hand hundreds of times. Thinking quickly she struggles and pins him down with both legs, making sure that he's on his back so that he can see her coming - so that she can watch her friend die. He deserved to be seen as who he was, not this, and she had enough memories she could fill them in without this tainting them.]

I'm sorry.

[She moves quickly, landing a blow to his throat and then his good eye. Eventually she can't stop herself as grief takes over and she stabs him over and over again, the tears breaking free and the sobbing uncontrollable as she stabs him in the head and where ever else she can reach.]

Don't Dead, Open Inside || Action

IS IT??????

WOW RIGHT IN THE FEELS. screw you frames!! lol

FINGERGUNS

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