( open )

[snowballers]

Who: Mike, Wolfie + you.
What: Zombie hunting.
Where: Around Hadriel.
When: During the Dead Men Walking event.
Warnings: none yet, will be updated where needed.
Notes: I wrote in brackets, but prose is more than welcome. Starters in comments. If you'd like a custom one, PM or PP me and we'll set something up.

Comments

14th; armoury.

[snowballers]

[ The shotgun is safely hidden. There's not enough bullets in this place, and since it's obvious they're going to be stuck here a while there's time to plan. Not really what he's been operating on, but once the adrenaline spike recedes Mike is rifling through the armoury. Zombies are hell of a lot slower than wendigos, right? Something here is useful. ]

Hey, [ he calls over, more like he's talking to himself, ] where are the clubs? Or baseball bats?

[ p.s. watch out for the wolf guarding the door. ]

[64th]

[ Cash assumes that the voice is talking to her, because isn't that less weird than talking to yourself? ]

I haven't been looking for those. I'm looking for throwing knives. A golf club or a heavy wood club? [ though now that he mentions it a club could be useful. she follows his voice around the corner to see who it belongs to. ] I'll help you look. [ she waves in a half-hearted sort of hello. ] Hi. I'm Cashmere.

[snowballers]

[ oh no she's hot ]

Throwing knives are in this corner.

[ They're actually in the corner opposite him. Mike is trying not to gape, but his eyes are moving up from her feet, before he smiles at her. ]

Mike. Nice to meet you.

[64th]

[ she catches his look - and his trying not to look - and rewards him with both a smile and a wink. ] Thanks babe. That's just what I needed.

[ she moves to check out the knives, still chatting to him. ] You know, you should really try and find a ranged weapon. Why get closer than you have to? That's how people end up dead.

[snowballers]

[ nnnnnnnnnot helping. Jess is dead, and he has put that aside to channel his anger into getting rid of the undead motherfuckers coming after them. ]

I have a shotgun, but I don't see any bullets around here.

[64th]

[ oh is flirting not the kind of distraction you want when you're worried about being eaten by the undead? weird. ]

Yeah, I've noticed they aren't quite so generous with bullets as they are with weird food and monsters. [ ISN'T LIFE GREAT? ] I've heard the gods offering them in exchange for a favor, though.

[snowballers]

[ He raises an eyebrow. ]

What kind of favour?

15-17th. somewhere in hadriel.

[snowballers]

[ They're all over the goddamn place. Mike has moved around some old furniture to create a bottleneck in one of the corners; these things aren't smart enough to go around or move the newly placed obstacles. One at a time, he can pick them off. Except you showed up. Mike gestures frantically. ]

Move! They're coming!

HAY ACTION MAN

[meatbrained]

( really, Michael? sdkljdf Jesus. )

Well, come on! ( look, all things considered, they got their issues out of the way and while Matt might not want to be best friends with Mike any time soon, he's from the same place, from the same group, and that means they stick together, right? )

HEY BRO

[snowballers]

This way!

[ They stick together. He drags Mike behind a makeshift shelter, hidden from the view of any approaching zombies. ]

You got a weapon?

Re: HEY BRO

[meatbrained]

( he's alright with this. shelter is good. zombies are usually too dumb to understand this kind of thing, right? )

Er- ( he produces... a table leg. look, not all of us came with wolves, alright? )

[snowballers]

Not bad. I've got a club, hold on.

[ He fetches one spare, with broken glass sticking into it from where he smashed a window and pressed down hard on the wood. ]

One hit in the head seems to do it. I do a few just to be sure.

[meatbrained]

( he will take that club. it seems like a way better option. )

Thanks, man.

( but ) You been doing this the whole time?

( rly Michael? not hiding like normal people? )

15-17th. somewhere else in hadriel.

[snowballers]

[ The second trap is one of the houses; Mike's lying down on the roof out of sight, waiting for one of them to come inside. Wolfie's not an accessory; the thing about a wolf is, trained or not, they're not dogs. He's on his own. ]

Hey! How many of these things are left?

yolo

[dedikated]

( DID SOMEBODY SAY ROOFTOPS. because. Kate does rooftops.

so, um. hey, Mike, have a pink haired lady hopping rooftops until she stumbles across you. she may be slightly covered in zombie guts. it's fine, she's off for a shower. )

Swear they're multiplying.

( said with all the impatience of someone who has been more annoyed by this whole event than scared. )

[snowballers]

[ UHM ]

Good to know.

[ Faintly, drowning in disbelief. He stands awkwardly, and holds out his hand. ]

Mike.

[dedikated]

( you're new, aren't you? rooftop travel might not be the most common mode of transportation in Hadriel, but Kate's not the only one to favour it.

at least she looks human! wait until you meet Shadow. )

Kate.

( she does, at least, ensure that there's no zombie remnants on her hand before she shakes his. )

You got summat planned?

( or are you just hiding out and watching the apocalypse unfold? )

[snowballers]

Yeah, they come into the house sometimes. Otherwise I just let them be.

[ A few days of little to no sleep, definitely no showers, and a trail of wrappers everywhere he walks; Mike's tired and filthy. ]

What are you doing?

[dedikated]

( fair enough. as for her... )

Going for a shower.

( yeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

#priorities. )

17th.

[snowballers]

[ or, you can come across a grimy teenager wandering through the town, looking for any remaining pockets of resistance, saying to Wolfie, ]

I promise, I'm getting you the biggest dog toy I can find. Just as soon as this is over.

[dogsanddaughters]

[Miriam is one of those unfortunate souls who might as well be physically incapable of staying in one place for extended periods of time. Which, when it comes down to it, is really the only reason she's out wandering around at all. She's been regretting it for the past few hours, hiding out with Barnaby at her side and the stun baton on hand. The shock hasn't been doing much against the dead things, but just like back home, they slow down if you smack 'em in the face enough.

So she's been doing that. She's also, incidentally, partially covered in brains.]

Oh. Puppy.

[She peers out from behind a shop door, still holding the baton. Barnaby huffs in greeting, tail wagging.] Hi, puppy.

[snowballers]

[ Grimy kids are at least a familiar sight. Mike stops, looking at her first, then Barnaby. ]

Oh, hey, a dog.

[ This is the extent of intelligent conversation. Wolfie approaches, sniffs at Barnaby. ]

What do you feed him around here? I've been trying to get raw meat for days.

[dogsanddaughters]

[Barnaby's tail is up, curious but also alert. If the other dog - wolf? - makes a move to challenge him, then Barnaby will respond.] Huh? Oh, usually he gets to kill stuff out in the caves. But these ones aren't any good, the meat's all bad.

[Miriam wrinkles her nose.] Like the freaks back home. Only they're different. These ones aren't tarred.

[snowballers]

[ Mike makes a derisive noise. ]

Well, he can't eat dog food. Do you know if there's anyone we can talk to?

[dogsanddaughters]

Rage, maybe. She likes it when you kill stuff. [Miriam's been thinking about what she might want if she happens to pile up a bunch of corpses at the temple. Something for Barnaby.] Izzat a dog or a wolf? I never seen a wolf before.