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

[worn_wings]

[ It's a pretty sensible storage solution. ]

I heard about it.

[ ...before the evacuation, but he's not going to go into that. ]

You armed?

[candothat]

It's good that you did. Thank you for bringing an armory.

[He shakes his head.]

I was here before the evacuation process began. [Unarmed, as one generally is when going to waystation for a brief errand.]

[worn_wings]

[ Maybe as Chekov generally is when going out for an errand. Daryl hasn't been unarmed since... well, since he found his way to the armory in the first place, after getting off the Marsiva. ]

Know how to shoot?

[ The door quivers vaguely as the horde on the other side paws at it. Sliding doors are, he thinks, a pretty terrible idea; there's no way to physically shore it up, short of actually blockading it. Which he'll do if he can, but there's not much here.

Knowing he's less than useless with whatever computer stuff Pavel is trying, he instead busies himself dragging over a table. It's not really as big or heavy as he'd like, but it's something anyway. ]

[candothat]

[As most people are.]

I do, yes. [And, as much as he doesn't like using them, he sure wouldn't mind having one on him if that door gives in.

A few more (increasingly frantic) taps on his tablet.]

Aha! I have access to the air regulation system for that room. I could vent the atmosphere.

[worn_wings]

[ Most people are very trusting, if you ask Daryl.

He pauses, the table maybe two-thirds of the way across the room. ]

You mean suck 'em out into space?

[ That's a great idea! Except... he's torn, because who knows whose remains are in that room? Are they sure there's no one alive stuck in there? What if Carl--

But that's not fair of him. They've got a mess to clean up, here. ]

[candothat]

No, there are physical safety precautions preventing that—grates, screens, you know. The room would depressurize and become a vacuum. And no one unaffected by this in there, I checked before leading them in.

[Notice how he's hesitating.]

[worn_wings]

[ Is that better or worse? Honestly, he's not sure. Maybe it's for the best, since he was worried about them floating off. Hell, floating off into space probably wouldn't do more than risk spreading it, if someone ever found one floating and got curious. ]

Might not do much.

[ Either way, he might as well finish dragging over the table, so he does. And sets two guns on the end closest to Chekov. ]

[candothat]

[Floating space zombies sound... terrifying.]

No? I thought that ebullism, at least, would affect them. The boiling of surface liquids as well.

[He looks from the guns to the door—which is, for the moment, holding, but the creatures on the other side sound determined to get through.]

[worn_wings]

[ Well... okay. He stares for a moment, considering it. Look, all that science shit isn't Daryl's strong point. Stabbing kind of is. But what he does get is enough, so after a moment he nods sharply. ]

Try it. Long as you're sure.

[ Worst that could happen is it doesn't work, right? ]

[candothat]

[Pavel probably won't mention that neither biology nor zombies are his strong points. Daryl may as well think he kind of knows what he's doing.]

I'm sure that I can do it. I'm not certain that it will entirely incapacitate them, or if it should be done. Maybe there is a cure for this.

[See, totally not a zombie expert.]

[worn_wings]

There ain't. They're dead.

[ Look, he's the security officer, he's assessing threats. Even if he wasn't all too familiar with the undead, he's fought through enough of them here to know what he's dealing with. ]

Nobody else in there?

[ That's the bit that worries him. ]

[candothat]

[Chekov generally questions information provided by people he doesn't know terribly well—at least in situations like this one where lives could potentially be at stake—but Daryl seems to know what he's talking about. He's definitely dealt with this or something very like this before.]

No one. I made sure.

[It's bad form to lure zombies into a room with the intention of trapping them there without making sure it's empty first, after all.]

You're certain that they're beyond help? Entirely, no doubts?

[worn_wings]

[ There are, he expects, going to be some uncomfortable questions after all this, for the Georgia crew. If anyone makes it out alive. You could say he's not looking forward to it, except honestly, he's not looking forward at all. Everything is in the moment. ]

They're gone.

[ He meets Chekov's eyes, and there is the sort of conviction in his look that brooks no doubt. ]

Kindest thing to do is stop this.

[candothat]

Okay.

[Maybe he doesn't have any solid reasons to trust Daryl, but the man is too certain to be doubted. Pavel gives the tablet one last tap. There's a soft woosh and then...

Nothing. No groans, no scratching, just the complete silence of a vacuum on the other side of the secured door.]

There. I would wait two, three minutes. If they are unaffected by the sudden pressure change, they will freeze.

[worn_wings]

[ None of this is good, none of this is pleasant-- but it's weirdly relieving, that sudden silence. Normally it'd be a question-- what the hell lured them away, who are they after instead.

It would be a terrible way to die, but they're already dead. ]

Would slow 'em down at least.

[ He's not sure he'll be satisfied if he can't take care of them himself, but it's a start. ]

Doors won't let anyone in there, right?

[candothat]

[If they need any kind of oxygen circulation, their brains would shut down in fifteen seconds or so. If they don't... yeah, it's not a pleasant way to go. Chekov is not happy or comfortable with this, but the tools in his arsenal are limited.]

At least...

No, the doors are sealed shut until someone closes the vents and repressurizes the room. After that, they can be unlocked or pried open.

[worn_wings]

[ He doesn't feel any guilt about what they're doing to the walkers. What happened in the first place-- that's something else.

He nods. ]

Wouldn't've thought of this.

[ This was a good idea, Chekov. He's impressed. ]

[candothat]

[Wow, it sure would be nice to know how and why this all started.

He manages a smile because that sounded almost like a compliment.]

I wouldn't have been able to close the door without your help, and then they probably would have killed me. So thank you for preventing that.

[worn_wings]

[ Daryl doesn't smile, but, well. ]

Ain't any way off. Might wanna find someplace to hole up.

[candothat]

[Pavel makes a noncommittal sound and takes one of the guns that Daryl so kindly parted with. He's usually clever enough to avoid heroics in situations where his particular talents aren't of much use, but hiding doesn't seem right. He has friends on the station, and some of the innocent bystanders (never mind that he's technically one of those) who didn't evacuate in time are still alive. Probably. Hopefully.]

I assume that you have more fighting to do. Please try not to die.

[worn_wings]

[ That's definitely not the advice he was expecting. His eyes widen a touch, but otherwise he doesn't react strongly. It is, after all, pretty much on point. ]

Yeah. You, too.

[ Somehow he doesn't think the younger man is going to take his advice. ]

[candothat]

[It's the best advice he has. Daryl clearly knows what he's doing, and what he's doing is probably going to involve a lot more slicing.]

Thank you.

[Pavel heads down the hall with his tablet, a gun, and... yeah, no intention of doing that holing-up thing. Not yet.]

[worn_wings]

[ Yeah, that figures.

Daryl doesn't even shrug it off. He just heads out the other way. More dead to put down, no doubt. ]