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. ]

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[He accepts the hand up... and leaves the umbrella on the ground where it probably belongs. Now that there's no immediate need to panic, he feels a bit embarrassed.]

Daryl gave me a gun. [He pulls it out of a coat pocket. Judging by the zombie goo on it, it's seen some use as a blunt instrument.] But I would rather not use a loud projectile weapon in an enclosed space.

[Or at all. He hasn't forgotten the person he shot on the red planet.]

You had a gun that whole time? [Pavel...]

Let's get you a proper weapon. A broom.

[He looks appropriately chagrined. Still not going to use it, though.]

I need to do something first, then I promise to hide in a room with everyone else who's terrible at fighting. [If he sounds annoyed that he currently falls into that category, at least compared to most of the rest of the Fleet, it's just because he is.] Will you help me?

You're going to make me answer before telling me what you need to do? [She sighs.] Yeah, what is it?

[And for the record she was going to cut off the end of the broom and make it pointy. Real weapon!]

[Are you annoyed, Kitty.]

Thank you. [He takes off down the hall rather decisively. If he doesn't know where he's going, he's doing a great job hiding it.] I need to vent a room that I trapped some of these... these things in. I was almost finished when I was interrupted.

[A little bit. JUST BE RESCUED, DAMNIT!

She follows, staying close and in fact reaching out to hold his hand which may be awkward, but it's for potential phasing purposes.]

Why do they need ventilation?

[Look, it's a minor miracle she hasn't had to save him from doing more stupid things than she has. You don't get into Starfleet without having at least a small amount of stupid.

He accepts the hand-holding for the practical precaution that it is.]

They would likely prefer not to have it. If they were still sentient, I mean. [He isn't actually convinced that they're not sentient, but he has to keep believing it until it's a convenient time to have some kind of moral meltdown.] I can vent the room to space. Nothing survives for very long in a vacuum.

...Oh.

That kind of venting. [She nods, thinking it over. If they are trapped that seems safe enough. If there is a cure they'd be available for it. But is it more likely there's a cure for death or more likely someone will open that door by mistake and get themselves killed while letting them out?] Okay, let's do it.

Mmhm. [He's not thrilled about it, but he's also not thrilled about the idea of any of them escaping or mauling someone looking for a place to hide.]

Have you wondered if this can be spread by more than direct contact? If it can be airborne? [Probably not a good thing to wonder right now, but.

As he wonders, he stops at a door, ignoring the creature nearby that, while still animate and growly, has had its limbs thoroughly ducttaped together and its mouth covered. The wall panel near the door has been dismantled (these are sophisticated sliding doors because space) and a couple of live wires spark inside. Pavel picks up a blood-spattered computer tablet that he'd left behind in his hurry to not be killed and begins tapping away.]

Have I thought that all this might be pointless because we are all going to eventually turn into those things no matter what we do and the important part is that the station is sealed off?

Yep.

[Looking at him.] We're still going to fight until we can't.

Did you do this? [Pointing to the duct taped living dead person.]

Good. I'm glad I'm not the only one who is entertaining thoughts of futility.

[He just nods in response to the fighting. They don't really have a choice even if they are all ultimately doomed.]

I did, yes. [If she's expecting unprompted elaboration, she's going to be disappointed. Whatever he's doing that requires so much thought results in a loud thunk behind the door.]

[It was enough for her.] Impressive. [Also time consuming. He wouldn't be able to do that with more than one of them ambling his way. She watches as he works and when she hears the thunk she waits for more sounds for a moment before speaking.]

Was that the venting?

Not efficient, but thank you. [There's a reason he ran when a pack of them located him.]

The--? Oh, no. That was a seal to protect the rest of the station. . This is the venting. [He gives his tablet a final decisive tap, there's a very quiet whoosh, and a red light in the wall panel lights up. That's it.

And although it's not all that exciting and there are no other noises because there's now a soundless vacuum behind that door, Pavel looks relieved. Not happy, but relieved is good too.] In four, maybe five minutes, I can fix the room. I promise to hide after that.

Ah. Hopefully the vacuum of space does it for them. [It's a pretty nasty process, but they are dead and walking around so who knows?]

[The soft sound of moans approaches and Kitty stands protectively in front of Pavel, facing outward.] I don't think it's going to be a boring wait. [A group of them is shuffling down the hall to their location.]

Hopefully. [It's not a thing he's comfortable doing. He wouldn't do it if he was confident they would stay contained, or that no one would find a way to open a sealed door, or that whatever disease causes it could only be transmitted directly by bite. If they discover that it's curable or that these people aren't too far gone to be helped...

Well. What's a little extra guilt.]

I think that I would prefer boring. [He is quite content to stay behind her for the moment, thank you.] This hallway ends ahead, no more rooms. The wall to our left is an exterior wall, and I don't know what is behind the others.

[She's worried about that too. She's been told there's no coming back from people like Carol, but does she really know? They aren't on her world. They're in space and she's not a doctor or scientist as far as she knows.]

My phasing is blocked on the the exterior walls from the lockdown. [She's not sure if it is the augment or some aspect of the lockdown itself, but she's tried.

And then she's rushing forward, just engaging them with quick blows from her claws. She has to use strength and momentum to get the claws into their skulls, but she can phase them back out effortlessly and on to the next one. She has to dodge and pivot and phase at times she wants to be solid to avoid the bites, but avoid them she does. But for how long?]

Were there any loose solid objects back there? [She kicks herself for not taking better inventory, but she doesn't want to look away now. She could safely phase and do so, but they could move through her and past her to Chekov and that's not okay.] Something I could phase into them?

[She's off and slicing and phasing before he can start proposing other plans. That's probably the correct course of action; they don't exactly have time for elaborate tactical maneuvers.

He immediately hands over his computer tablet--the only readily-available solid object there is--and then turns back to the half-dismantled wall panel to make it more dismantled.] There will be more. [The space station is made of so many solid objects!

And he knows where the live wires are. That was enough to temporarily take down the one creature that's been duct taped into submission.]

Kitty. I can take care of one, maybe two. [This would be easier for her if she could phase or if she had the freedom to be somewhere other than between him and them. Don't think he doesn't know what she's doing.]

[She almost uses the tablet before recognizing what it is and then she just holds it for a moment, fighting one handed instead.] Don't you need this? [She kicks one back hard into another so they fall. They won't stay down, but they aren't exactly coordinated either.]

Not sure anyone can tape that fast, Chekov.

Not really. I need to be alive much more. [Getting the doors to do things manually isn't as elegant, but yeah, he can do it and just flipping end a zombie with that please.]

How do you think that I convinced it to hold still long enough to be taped up?

[In close quarters trying to keep Chekov from having to take on one or two she pretty much needs to use it or lose it now anyway so she jars it between two of their heads and releases. They fall to the floor. The pile of bodies is making everything a little more complicated.]

Sweet talk? Batted your lashes?

Funny, as always.

[That pile of bodies is impressive. Also not helpful or conducive to both of them staying alive.]

Could you phase through all of them? The ones that are still moving and trying to eat us, I mean. There are rooms on the other side.

I can. Not confident I can take all these out? [Which is totally fair. Risk of one of them getting past her or biting into her is high enough she should take it seriously.]

Not entirely, no. [Hopefully she knows that's just him assessing the situation realistically, not him doubting her mad skills.]

[She falls back, outpacing the attacking dead. She's tired but she's not dead tired if you will. She reaches for Chekov's hand.] Which way?

[He takes her hand and holds on tightly. He doesn't really want to un-phase in the middle of a zombie, thank you.] Right! Maybe ten meters.

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Don't Dead, Open Inside || Action

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I sure did lose this

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