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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I suppose it is a bit strange. [Nope. He's not figured out she means a person.] If you're really worried I could have someone look at it. Anders seen it a couple times, but he didn't say anything about it.

[Maybe it was a respect thing? Or maybe he didn't really know what to do with it. Hard to say really.]

...No, no, I mean Dr. Strange. He's a person. A doctor. Also magic. You're not...this isn't strange. Or that's not the problem. It is something I haven't seen before, but it's just... That's not how you heal living tissue. If it were supporting a a bone or something or it was cybernetic, sure... [She feels a little at a loss for words and she's realizing she's probably doing the opposite of making him comfortable here.] I don't know, maybe it's fine. I just wouldn't want it to lead to heavy metal poisoning in the future or something. That could be really dangerous. [Making him worry about his life. Nice save?]

I'm not sure Ander's world is that advanced either.

Yeah... well, it stops my clothes from snagging on the skin? [It's a weak excuse and he knows it.] They did their best. I think. Mostly... [He's pretty sure some in that town were still hoping he'd die.]

How long does it take to get heavy metal poison? [That's something he's never considered before. Then again, Vash rarely puts much thought into his own well-being.] Would it take longer than twenty years?

That probably depends on the metal, the person, and the environment. Maybe? Or maybe you wouldn't. Maybe you can't. Just get it checked to be sure? We don't want to lose you. [The "we" was important. She wasn't ready to say the "I" even if it's what she meant. And for what it's worth she's sure the crew and the fleet agrees.]

Ugh. You really think I should? Doctors give me the gitters. [Having seen his scars who could blame him?]

They're so pokey! Touching everything and asking embarrassing questions. Like; does it hurt when I do this? What did you eat today? Donuts are not a healthy meal. How often do you poop? What does your poop smell like? How does your body push out bullets on its own? I'm going to stick this cold thing up your butt.

They all seem obsessed with the butt! Then they want to stick needles into you and take "samples" and just... ugh.

Well, you do have a nice butt. Maybe just ask them to focus on the metal? I don't think it'll be the same here as it was at home for you. [She's sure the scarring wouldn't have been as bad if someone with better training and supplies had looked it over at the time. Her hand slowly drifts from the cage down his side, skimming over the textured skin.]

Your body really pushes bullets out? [Only so surprised. After all, she knows he isn't human. Of course how does the body know when to get rid of bullets and keep wound cages? Interesting.]

[Did she just say he has a nice butt? He grins and opens his mouth to playfully mention that she hasn't seen that landscape yet and to hold her opinion. Then decides that seeing "above the belt" is enough for now. He doesn't want to say something that might make her curious enough to keep searching.]

Well, it depends on how deep and straight they hit. I still need to mostly take them out myself. [He winces as a memory comes back to him.] Especially as sometimes my body will try to heal around them if they're not properly removed. [He thinks briefly about his brother. Who had learned how to completely rebuild nearly his entire body. Maybe if he wasn't so scared of his own abilities he could have done something like that too.] I'm not exactly sure how it works if I'm honest. I just know I tend to heal faster than most humans.

[He doesn't stop Kitty's fingers from exploring. Unsure if being overly concerned was better or worse than being disgusted or afraid. As she skims down his side Kitty will likely notice that smooth bits of skin are few and far between. Mostly it's all scar tissue on top of scar tissue. Or if not scar tissue there are other bits of metal screwed into his flesh.]

[She's seen it through clothes! Though it is almost always covered by his coat and when it's not pajamas aren't that revealing. She still believes.]

Sounds like it's a good ability to have even if it doesn't work all the time. [Now that they've discussed doctors even though he didn't exactly promise to go, she's willing to back off of that and be more in the moment with him. Her hand keeps slowly, curiously exploring, taking in the fraught landscape, but not seeming bothered by it.]

[He will consider seeing a doctor. If only so Kitty will worry less will be the best way to get him to actually go. There has only ever been one doctor Vash has been comfortable seeing and he wasn't in the Fleet.]

I would be lying if I said it hasn't come in handy. Despite what it may look like. [Her hands will find large gashes missing. Even bigger than the one caged off so at least it doesn't seem like a normal practice. There's some clean stitching placed by a practiced hand. Other stitching that is jagged and clearly done by an amateur. There are other puckered areas of tough skin that has scarred over long ago. Then of course there is his left arm. The hand looks and feels like skin and it's the only part that isn't scarred. The arm from his wrist to just below his shoulder is metal. Of course, she has the memory now of what happened to that missing arm. The way his brother had shot it off so long ago.]

So. Still think you've seen bad scars before?

You are so competitive. [She doubts he really wants to compete over that.] I've seen worse. [Of course she's also seen all kinds of horrors from war wounds and what mutant powers can do to a person's own body, so she knew that was going to be true no matter what he revealed. This is worse than she expected.] You should see Dead Man Wade sometime.

Dead Man Wade? I have to say -the Stampede and Shadowcat are much nicer nicknames. I think we really lucked out.

[He relaxes slightly under her touch when she admits that she's seen worse. For some reason that made him feel just a little better.] So, you've seen worse than "cages"?

Well, he was a bad guy. Maybe that's part of the deal.

[She's happy to feel his muscles feeling less tense under her fingertips.] When it comes to body manipulation I've seen worse than cages. When it comes to things meant to heal, well... I don't think I'd ever go to a doctor in your home world.

Bad guys do tend to have the worst nicknames.

[That gets a chuckle out of Vash.] Well, there is one doctor I think you'd be alright going to. He's the one who made my arm. The others? Yeah, maybe skip those.

I'm glad you managed to find the one good one for that. [She leans in closer and kisses his cheek.]

Is it too much worrying and not enough flirting? [She does hate thinking of everything he's been through and there's practically a map of it over his body.]

Only if you want to flirt. [He doesn't want her to start flirting because she feels any pity for his scars.] Because I have to admit; it's nice to be worried about.

[So far this was going better than he originally pictured.] You don't have to pretend to feel anything about my scars. I just want you to feel the way you feel.

Well, you deserve some worry. And I promise, no pretending anything. But you also don't have to worry about me being a jerk about them, because I don't feel that way. [And then after a beat she leans in to press her lips to his. She's still a little tentative. Still giving herself permission to do these things.]

You wouldn't be a jerk. [He doesn't think the girls who have looked away in the past were jerks. There is just different levels of tolerance. He can easily forgive that.

Of course any thoughts about the past or worry about what Kitty will think melt away at that kiss. He's received so few kisses like this in his long life that each one still felt remarkable. Vash closes his eyes as he kisses softly back. He doesn't even fully realize that he's reaching up to run his hand through her hair until he feels it in his grasp.]

But, I'm really glad that you're not frightened away by them.

[The kiss is sweet and it gives her heart a little jolt because things are new and different and she's in his room on his bed and his coat and body armor are off.] It takes a lot to scare me. An army of the dead couldn't do it. [Which isn't entirely true. She was scared for Pavel and Tyrion.] I also didn't kiss any of them.

[At least he's still wearing jeans?] Well, I'm glad I look better than an army of the undead to you.

And sorry, I didn't really mean to make tonight about me. [It just sort of happened.]

Don't be. Tonight is about a lot of things and I'm glad part of that is you. [Her hand moves up his fully intact arm, resting on his shoulder before she kisses him again, more assertively this time.]

[He likes the assertiveness and kisses back in kind.] Am I safe to assume I'm a good part of the night then? [Said with a grin. He knows that there's no way she's going to say he's not.]

Mmmm...better than an army of the dead? I guess so. [She smiles at him.]

I see I have my work cut out for me. [And he is still half dressed.] Alright, seeing as how it looks like the action of the day is over I suppose I might as well finish getting changed and put my gun away. I don't think it will be needed tonight.

I hope not. If it is you're kinky in ways I'm probably not ready for.

[That gets a laugh out of him.] No, no. I'm pretty sure that is not something I would ever be into. [He's never even considered it before now.]

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