Event Log: Dead Men Walking

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Dead Men Walking event!
Where: All around the city
When: September 14th-September 20th
Warnings: Zombies. Walkers. The Infected. Zeds. The undead. Risen.

Everything seems more or less normal in Hadriel on the 14th - at least at first. But wait, who's that over there? Why are they walking so weird? Are they feeling okay? Wow, did they just try to bite you? Oh shit, you might've seen a movie like this before. That was definitely a zombie.

But hey, it's no big deal. A few zombies here and there are pretty easy to avoid, especially when you can outrun them without too much trouble. They're only really dangerous if they're fast or if there are a lot of them, and they sure aren't fast! Only - well, before long, there are a lot of them. You can hardly go outside without running into one, and mobs form quickly. Went out for supplies? Let's hope they didn't follow you - you might get stuck in that shop, mobile corpses pounding on the door. Oh, and don't stand too close to the windows of your house. They'll be more than happy to smash the glass trying to get you.

Don't worry, though! A hard blow to the head will take these zombies out, and you'll be sitting pretty, as long as none of them bite you. None of them bit you... right? Wow, what a relief. We're all glad you're not concealing a life-threatening zombie bite from your friends! Who would do that, anyway? Now if you can manage that until the 20th, you'll be safe and sound as the zombies shamble out of the city. Hopefully you won't be shambling with them.

► This log covers September 14th-September 20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you join the zombie party, please let us know here!

Comments

sans | ota, will match format

[skelebro]

city streets;

[Emotions are complex and difficult enough for him to process without having additional spanners thrown into the mix, thanks. Sans is just now adjusting to the fact that he cares about certain people and doesn't want them to die or worse, and he does not need extra weight on top of everything else.

Extra weight such as running for his goddamn life, for instance. We're being purely hypothetical here, of course. Sans does not run. He occasionally calls people to ask if their refrigerator or their nose is running, but the monster himself is about as action-averse as one can possibly be.

So what he is doing, instead, is walking. Walking in a zig-zagging pattern and very fixedly not looking at the shambling mass of things behind him that are rapidly gaining ground. Watch closely, now - if you blink, you might find that he's abruptly several meters ahead of the horde that was surely about to chomp down on his femur a half-second ago.

Either way, he's starting to look a little worn to the bone, if the sweat starting to run down his skull is any indication. A guy can only keep up this cat-and-mouse routine for so long before it gets unsustainable, and Sans is fast approaching his limit.]

shop, empty building, spire, etc.;

At some point, or maybe several points, he makes it to a spot that's not under immediate threat of being caved in by a mass of dead flesh and hungry chompers. And by "makes it," I definitely mean that he just kind of shows up without any sort of warning, simply popping into existence and nearly collapsing from the strain of it. Alll the shortcutting and half-measuring he's been doing since this shebang began has finally started to catch up to him, weariness creeping up his shinbones and sinking in marrow-deep.

"Just, uh," he says, oddly breathless for a monster that pretty acutely lacks lungs, "just gimme a minute, yeah? Pretty - pretty bone tired, heh."

He braces a hand against the nearest surface and/or person in the vicinity, the other draped across his patella as he tries not to double over.

shop~

[strangelic]

[ There was really no effort made to push Sans away, when he leant against him. It was odd to have his space invaded that way, by a stranger, and yet Cas didn't resist it, instead simply concerned about Sans, tilting his head to look down at him.

And to his credit, the spontaneous appearance hadn't so much as made him bat an eyelash, either. Not surprising, considering it was in his own skillset. ]

Are you...okay?

[skelebro]

[Uh, wow. Wow. He just kinda crashed right into the guy. The guy whose...name is kinda escaping him, but that's fine, lots of people's names are escaping him, ha-ha, what's a name anyway?

He's getting off track. The lines in Sans's eyesockets dilate and then shrink in the same instant.]

Yep, [he says, totally unconvincingly, swaying back until his back thunks dully against the nearest wall.] Yep, 'm fine. Just really kinda...gotta catch my breath.

[He makes a sloppy, spinning gesture with one phalanx.]

That was...a joke. Get it? 'Cause I don't have...lungs...

[strangelic]

I get it.

[ Strange time for a joke, but he's used to that as well. ]

It's okay, it's safe here. You can rest for as long as you need.

[ He steps after him, very carefully. It's odd, he thinks, to see a skeleton truly overwhelmed, sweating. Truly strange. Perhaps no stranger than an angel, or a horde of the undead. ]

Is there anything I can get you? I have some water.

city streets;

[prazerbutterfly]

[Tyki was in nearly the same boat as Sans when it came to caring about people. He liked humans and was teased about it often yet he wouldn't hesitate to destroy them. There were a couple of people here now that he liked that were human yet he wouldn't risk his life for them should it happen to be the case. His true colors would show so easily. The only people he would stick his neck out for was his family. Others, he wouldn't mind as long as it didn't put him in danger and he didn't really have to worry about it currently.

It's why he's out on the streets just walking within the crowd and on occasion he'll step up into the air above them to watch them grab at his feet in an effort to pull him down. None of them really seemed capable of jumping as they were capable of trying to stack on top of each other.

Humans, even in death, were so eager to step all over each other just to get to something they really wanted. Sans might catch him watching as his hands fold out to the sides and hundreds of butterfly creatures pop from them with a small spurt of blood.] Feast.

[Said calmly as they descend upon the crowd and begin to eat without discretion. But oh, there's Sans sudden as he blinks forward into his vision.] Except that one. Don't touch him.

[skelebro]

[It takes a moment for his vision to resolve into anything besides nebulous geometric shapes and whorls of color. When everything finally snaps into reassuring clarity, it's with the startling realization that Tyki is doing - something.

Something involving one of those fluids that seems to leak out of humans, or those near enough like them, dark and red. Swarms of some kind of insect bursting from his skin so they can settle down on the mass of rotting flesh and -

Ah.

Well.

That, he is fair sure, is not on the roster of generalized human abilities. Nope.]

Huh.

[His eyesockets flick up and down as he appraises him, not really knowin' what to think and not wanting an inch of that to show. That's the nice thing about his smile, though. It makes a killer poker face, and always has.]

Should I ask?

[prazerbutterfly]

[Don't ask how he stores thousands of Tease, his cannibalistic golems that look like butterflies, inside of his body. He just does. He wouldn't be able to tell him much more than he chooses not to touch them as they live there and nothing more.

Tyki had an excellent poker face when actually playing poker. Otherwise he was very much an open book. The curved smile and the way he seemed conscious of his current decisions.] They were a gift given to me by the Earl of my Family.

They feast on flesh and meat though they will each just about anything when it comes to a body. [Including bones.] Not to mention they haven't eaten in a while. [Which he could tell by how rapidly they were devouring the rotting corpses.]

building

[hasitsthorns]

[ Holding up in an empty building seemed like the smartest course of action when she'd found herself surrounded. Rose could get her way out - easily - but she didn't want to. She was still wary about drawing attention to herself in that way... just yet. If the timing seemed right, if people seemed understanding then maybe she'd think about it but until then she wasn't going to take any chances.

The blond jumps at the sudden voice, immediately squinting at the skeleton that wasn't there just a second ago. She would have heard him come up unless he teleported or. Something. Did he? Hhhmmm. Well. He doesn't seem hostile so she lowers her guard and gives a huff at his incredibly lame joke. ]

Surely, you can be more humerus than that. [ She sees your bone pun and raises you another, good sir. ] But don't worry, dude, really. Take all the time ya' need.

[skelebro]

[Oh boy. Someone else is already in here, which is just his luck. God, but he needs to find Papyrus. In a...in a minute, maybe. When he's not stoppin' to catch his nonexistent breath.

Looks like a human, but he's met enough not-humans to know he can't gauge that kinda judgment off appearance alone. She puns right back at him, though, so - can't be all that bad, right?]

Heh, yep. Just a bit rattled. [His grin is crooked as he leans against the nearest shelf, gripping it with a degree of intensity that would leave his knuckles white and bloodless if he had any blood to speak of.] Didn't realize anyone was in here.

[hasitsthorns]

[ Snrk, terrible. That's what makes its funny though. Still, she appreciates the jokes. It obviously puts her a little more at ease about the zombies and random skeletons popping in out of nowhere. Her sense of humor is a little less pun-inclined and more along the 'dark as a cave but dry as a desert' line.

His fatigue doesn't go unnoticed but, hey, she's not going to draw attention to it since he seems to be trying to keep himself together. In a matter of speaking. ]

That's kind of the point, so hey! I'm glad. Wouldn't be safe if I could easily be found.

[ ... Hm, actually, this is a good chance to ask something. ]

You've been here a while, right? Is this normal?

[skelebro]

[Oh, okay. Welp. This might as well be happening. Good thing this ain't the first time this has happened, or he might be going with this flow a little less easily than he is. As it is, he just kinda rolls with it. It means he doesn't have to go takin' his shortcuts anywhere so, hey. Win-win!

He grins languorously, amused despite himself.]

If ya wanted to sweep me off my feet, I just gotta say, uh. Wow. Buy me dinner first.

Shops

[dogsanddaughters]

Oh. Hello, stranger.

Miriam peers out from behind the counter, arms full of groceries she's meaning to take back to the bar. Where she totally hasn't been sleeping lately.

"Sans?"

Barnaby gives him a derisive sniff.

"Barnaby, no, you can't eat him! That's not nice."

[skelebro]

"Heya..." Aaaand her name is escaping him at the moment. He's a bit rattled, you'll have to forgive him. At least until he puts two and two together and...Barnaby. Dog. Dog lady. That's right. Name sounds like "mirror."

"Miriam." He points at her with an air of weary triumph as he finally recalls her name successfully. "Sorry to, uh, drop in like this. Wasn't anywhere else to go, really."

[dogsanddaughters]

Miriam glances up from her cards, careful to put on a nice smile. Everything is fine and goo right now. "Hey, Sans. Dead ones got a bone to pick with you?"

cty streets

[beautyis]

[It took an embarrassing amount of time to figure out that the injured-looking humans limping around were not in fact injured humans, but strange creatures that fit among the other hungry ones that will attack anyone, monster or human, on sight. After instructing one to please head straight for the clinic, only to be attacked and almost bitten by them, Papyrus still wasn't convinced they were not just a sick human who needed to be tended to. During a misguided attempt to herd the sick human to the clinic, he ran into a large group of them that all started shambling after him.

In fact, Papyrus is still not altogether sure whether these people can be helped or not. He just knows he has to avoid them if he doesn't want to be attacked. Is it like Sans described those creatures, or are these just citizens of Hadriel who need help? What he's managed to do for now is hide between some buildings.

That's when he spots Sans walking with purpose, and he's about to call out to him but then he notices the horde stumbling after him. He looks pretty worn out, and Papyrus has by now figured out that at the very least there's something making these people dangerous, so he jumps out of his hiding place and summons a wall of large bones between Sans and them.]

Brother! I think something strange is going on!

[skelebro]

[Oh thank fuck. He's been on the "run" (heh heh) for what feels like hours now but probably isn't, just feels that way since he's had nothin' else to do but worry about his brother and his roommates and the kids - and just when did he start carin' about so many people, exactly? It's horrible, this whole caring business. 0/10 stars, would not recommend.

A line of radiuses shoot up to barricade the shambling things from Sans, and for a second he's confused - he sure as hell didn't conjure that little fence up - before Papyrus's dulcet tones ring clear and bold over the cacophony of atonal moaning.]

Think you'd be right about that. [He catches up to him, hands still in pockets and sweat rolling freely down his skull, his grin slightly crooked as he tries to bundle his exhaustion up and shove it deep, deep down for it to crop up at a more convenient time.] These things ain't ones for talkin', it looks like. You okay? Any of 'em get ya?

[beautyis]

[Papyrus frowns at the strange people that are trying to reach for the two of them past the row of bones. Luckily, Papyrus had enough magic to spare to block off the whole road, so it'd be harder for them to go around. They'll probably figure it out eventually, but... can nothing be done for them? They look hurt, and most of them even limp. It doesn't really scare Papyrus more than make him feel bad for them.]

I am unharmed! But the same cannot be said for them. What is wrong with them? They look like humans, but... sick and hurt. I tried to take one to the clinic but I was chased off by a group of them. And you... You look very tired, Sans! This is why you need more exercise!

shop

[save_theworld]

[A sudden appearance is enough to have this particular child leaping straight out of their skin. It's been quiet for...all of five minutes, a calm before the storm, and they're on edge well before the sudden gasping and wheezing has them whirling about, dirty knife raised high before--

It freezes mid-air.

And Frisk just looks at him, for a moment, chest heaving with it's own, silent gasps, before slowly lowering the knife back to their side. Letting their shoulders hunch defensively, like they've just been caught out doing something they shouldn't be.

In their other hand is a basket. A generic black plastic, partially filled with a few goods- food. Water bottles.

They don't exactly rush to his side, but they haven't turned back, either.]

...Does human food help? Um, water? Because I have some.

[skelebro]

[It's them. Maybe they've never seen the extent of his "shortcuts" before - he always played 'em up as a kind of one-off sight gag, just for playful ribbing and nothing more. And if this kid's never seen the way things could, potentially, terminate in the destruction of everything the great fat null hypothesis sitting heavy and incontrovertible on his shoulders (the photograph, the photograph, the photograph in his drawer where everyone is goddamn smiling), then they'd have no idea how deep that extends, how much he utilizes it.

Poor kid looks awful spooked, and he can't rightly blame 'em, given the way their last conversation went. Heh...and here he's been givin' Chara that chance, lettin' the both of 'em open up, riskin' that, and this kid here - what makes them any less deserving, huh?

He wrenches his mind away from that track before it can commit to it. Best not plumb the depths of his own hypocrisy just now, yeah? He gropes at the nearest shelf, holding himself upright with an upper body strength he doesn't have, wobbling on the spot (it'd be so easy to cut him the hell down, wouldn't it?), trying to stand up straight and compromising with just sorta leaning against the shelf for support for the next five to ten minutes.]

Nah, I'll...I'll be okay.

[What a lie that is, huh? A damned lie, even. Still, they -

They offer to help. Offer to help like it's nothin', like he didn't...

Hah. Heh heh heh.]

Are, uh...did your roommate find you all right? [He kinda doesn't see 'em. Which doesn't bode super well, he thinks.]

city streets

[circumitus]

While not actively seeking out the living among the throng of the undead, Rey has cut through more than her fair share of limbs and heads. Even punched a few teeth out in attempts to gnaw on her arm. She wasn't having any of that, thank you very much.

It only takes half a second to assess the situation when Rey emerges from an alleyway to find a tired looking skeleton shambling before an unpleasant crowd. She blinks, eyes following him as he passes by, unfazed by the approaching zombies that were following him.

Before long, they start to take notice to Rey as well.

Two bloodied kukris in either hand, Rey swings the other direction and makes to follow the skeleton at a calm, collective pace. "There a reason you're out and about?"

She doesn't blame people for locking their doors and windows, staying inside in hopes to wait out the storm. However, she does find it baffling that anyone who isn't inclined towards defending themselves would take to the streets of all places.

[skelebro]

She comes at them like - well, the metaphor's overused, but bat outta hell just seems more than a bit fitting given the way she comes outta nowhere, weapons streaked with blood that sure as hell doesn't look like it's hers.

"Lookin' for my brother," he says shortly, because he's too tired to sugarcoat it, or do much of anything besides go for the truth. He's got a list, something he never actually commits to making and in fact usually abandons partway through the attempt, and it looks something like this:

1. check on the kids (done)
2. check on bro (not done)
3. check on roomies (still not done)

So, yeah, he ain't exactly doin' so hot, because these things won't get off his coccyx long enough for him to find any of the people he gives a damn about.

closed to crow; september 18th (cw suicide ideation)

[skelebro]

[He's tired.

Right, right. Tell him something he doesn't know, right? He's been bouncing all over the damn city, perpetually on his toes since this whole mess began, and every time he runs outta steam it turns out he's gotta rev up his metaphorical engine on fumes.

The thing about 1 HP, though, is that you can't really afford to run on fumes. Technically, Sans ain't supposed to be doing half the things he does. It's dangerous for a guy like him, who's got no buffer, who hasn't been sleeping enough to form a buffer, and now it's crept up to bite him in the coccyx.

It's crept up because he eventually finds himself sprawled on an anonymous rooftop, eyesockets drooped shut as he fights to keep himself awake to little avail. He can hear the things below, inevitably drawing closer. He can't bring himself to care. He's tired. He's tired. He's tired and if he can't haul himself upright he's gonna die here.

The thoughts run through his head, as if that might motivate him further, but he lies where he is. He'll move, when has to. He'll do it. Probably. Probably he will. He's got the kids, he's got Papyrus, he's got Newt and Hermann and Wade, and they're trusting that he'll make it out all right.

Just...just give him five more minutes...]

[funnybird]

[ It's been a little hectic down on the ground the last few days. Obviously. Luckily it's been easy for Crow to lay low by flying high to avoid the whole 'walking dead' thing. Speaking of walking dead— A skeleton in a sweatshirt sprawled across a rooftop isn't hard for a bird to miss. It's just good to see a familiar face that isn't trying to eat him. ]

Hey! Buddy!

[ When he swoops down for a landing, he realizes something is very wrong with his punny friend. Maybe it's nap time? ]

Hey, you alright down here? You look a little bonely. Need some company?