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

Entry tags:

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. ]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ 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! ))

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. ]

[ 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?

[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!)

[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.]

[ The door opens and immediately the hand falls to the floor, clawing to pull the rest of the dead weight out of the closet. He looks up, that single blue eye clouded over and yellowed around the edges looks up at her. To someone not from his own world, it's probably cause for concern- the way his features are gaunt and lack any natural color except the bruising under that one, dead eye. His mouth opens and closes, but all that comes out is a rattling bastardization of a breath. The clumsy fingers clutch insistently at her pant leg as he tries to pull himself up, only succeeding at looking like a newborn deer. ]

[ 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. ].

[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?

[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!]

[ Leilani can tell immediately that something is wrong. The quiet, the silence, the lack of response, is alarming enough, but when she sees his eye... It's like nothing she's ever seen before. Years of fighting and hunting have her instincts into overdrive and she knows she shouldn't get any closer, but if there's a chance she can do something for him... Maybe if she manages to get him into her arms she can get him away somewhere safe to treat this.

It doesn't even register in her mind that he could be the same as all the other creatures. All she sees is Carl. ]

It's okay, Carl. I'm here. [ Carefully, placing her staff to one side, she breathes out before she drops down to one knee. Foolish - Blackwall, Bull, Cassandra, they'd all scold her for it - but she does her best so smile. ] Lean back. Relax.

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."

[ 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!]

A woman with a staff and pointy ears is much better than literal walking corpses, so Aang will roll with this new development. She's less likely to kill him than the zombies anyway.

For someone who seems to only be twelve, he takes the appearance of the zombies well. Especially when they start gathering themselves up again after being blasted back.

"I say we should go this way." Aang tugs the woman's sleeve briefly before running the way she came. He can blow them back with wind, but he needs to find water to freeze and immobilize him.

He's quick, even for a child. It's almost like the wind is at his feet, helping along each step.

[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.]

Riona had come over when she noticed the zombies crowding a door. No doubt someone was hiding in there. There's... a lot of them. No point in rushing them all at once.

"Hey!"

A few turn towards her, and seeing much easier food, shamble towards her. Shield out in front and sword at the ready, Riona charges into them, knocking them down and hacking at them. But with each one she fells, two more stumble towards her. She braces her feet apart and prepares herself for a long fight.

Admittedly, though, she's not quite prepared for the enormous burst of ice that comes through the door, freezing much of the zombies. It helps, and Riona's determined to finish off the rest trying to clamber over the frozen mass.

"Hang on, I'm coming to help!" she shouts over their moans and gnashes.

[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.]

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.]

Edited 2018-06-12 01:03 (UTC)

[ 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)

[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.]

[The place was small, and they were trapped on it, but the Bull wasn't about to let that stop him. The bench he'd taken had broken a long time ago, but what he had left, a long and heavily wrought piece of better, was doing a damned good job of bashing skulls in.

He wasn't going to lose anyone else on this ship. Not-

-until he rounded the corner, saw Cousland, and...]

...shit. [It was quiet, low. These things were attracted to loud noises, after all.]

Hey. [He crept closer, quiet.] Fall back. Now.

[Even when he spoke quietly, the Bull's deep resonating voice carried along the corridor.]

[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.]

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]

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.

Aang feels pretty comfortable with his control of this situation--after all, while they may have a leg up in numbers, he's got a leg up in power, smarts, and also a choke point to freeze them--but he'd be lying if he said he weren't relieved to hear a normal not-dead voice declaring that she was here to help.

"Stay away from the door! I'm going to blow them back!" he calls over the sound of shambles and gnashing teeth. More water is gushing from the pipes, and it's only his constant bending pulling it from the ground that stops the room from flooding to his knees.

He pulls his arms back, then he brings them together. The wind kicks up, slamming at the shambling mass and pinning them to the opposite wall. The water rises to meet the wind, hitting the zombies and then freezing them in a solid sheet against the wall.

[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?

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 39

Don't Dead, Open Inside || Action

Carl Grimes || Open;;

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

hello darkness my old friend

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

this is fine.gif

I've come to chomp with you again

IS IT??????

sob

Aang | Avatar: The Last Airbender

S-SOB

lockdown

Looma Red Wind | Open

no subject

Nami | OTA

fight

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

Maggie | OTA {cw: lots of gore}

FINGERGUNS

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

no subject

no subject

Dr. Stephen Strange | OTA

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

no subject

aftermath