hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dead Men Walking

Entry tags:

Event Log: Dead Men Walking

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!

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I see... Even though they look human. It is hard not to be concerned for them! They don't look like they are having a very good time at all.

[On cue, some zombies begin to trickle in from around the wall of bones, moaning in that pitiable way. Papyrus notices them right away. It's like they're not even trying to be very fast or stealthy, just kind of... trying their best, which isn't the best with how hindered they are. It's distressing! Papyrus makes a frustrated noise.]

Perhaps we should find a place in which to hide for now!

I'm not sure there's much we can do for 'em, bro.

[Even if there was, he...

Heh. Well, he's, uh, he's a pretty selfish guy. He wouldn't care one way or another unless it was someone he actually cared about trapped amidst the horde, turnin' into one of those things. Which there isn't. And won't ever be. So.]

I was just thinking that, yeah. Probably best to just wait this one out. Is your place nearby?

[Papyrus spares the trickling herd another glance, but they are starting to get a little too close for comfort, so he starts heading off toward his house immediately, leading the way. Walking, but speedily.]

It is not too far! You can rest and I can make you some spaghetti to replenish your energy!

[Sans ambles along behind his brother. Maybe...maybe a bit faster than he would usually move. Maybe a bit more direct than his typical aimless meandering. When it comes down to this, it's probably best to sacrifice appearances for the sake of self-preservation.]

Sounds like a plan. I checked up on the kids already. Think they should be all right.

[Granted, it's been a few hours since then, but Chara was lookin' out for their...partner...so, you know, it's probably all good.]

Thank you for doing that, Sans! I am glad to know they are safe.

[Papyrus leads Sans towards his house, taking a sort of circuitous path, careful to avoid any telltale sounds of moaning. Papyrus has some things weighing on his mind a little, a text from Sans saying they need to talk in person about Chara. About the fact that Sans thought Papyrus was dead. That he thought Chara killed him.

"It's a little more complicated than that, bro." But what does that really mean? Sans can, at times, be infuriatingly cryptic.

Well, they're in person now. But maybe it's not a good time just yet. Maybe once they're relatively safe inside Papyrus' home, they can talk about Chara. At least they and Frisk are safe. At least Sans is not... if not fighting, but at odds with them enough to avoid them entirely in a crisis like this.

Papyrus trusts his brother to do the right thing.

Once they reach a point where there is no zombie-less route to take, Papyrus throws a few bones to knock the few blocking a path over. It's okay, he's just lowering their HP a bit so they can hurry past.]

Come, brother! [He runs past the zombies while they're still trying to get back up, the process thankfully slow going for them.]

[Cryptic is kinda his whole shtick. But with the way things stick (or shtick, heh heh) around here, he can't really afford to be veiling those vital shreds of information around his brother anymore. Not if he wants to keep him like he is, safe and alive.

He keeps on his tailbone, even tosses a few blue knucklebones to slow the mob down as they start to tear through Papyrus's nascent bone fence. They blunder on through the blue attacks like they're nothin', but the leaden weight of gravity should keep them on their toes for a little while, at least until they pass through to the other side.]

Just around the corner, and we should be fine.

[They make it around the corner, and there Delight's housing is. A little neighborhood of haphazardly scattered houses. Not uniform at all! Don't the gods know anything about city planning? A few zombies try to reach for them, but Papyrus gives them a wide berth on the way to his front door, making sure they don't shamble too close to himself or Sans. Good thing he doesn't lock his door!

He ushers Sans inside and closes the door and actually does lock it for once. Just in case the zombies know how to turn handles.]

Phew! What an... interesting outing!!

[Inside is spotless compared to Sans' place. There are a few board games resting on a coffee table near the entrance, but that's it as far as personal effects go. He hasn't had the time to collect belongings quite yet. Though he has stocked the pantry full of food.

Papyrus puts a hand on a hipbone and wipes the sweat off his skull, glancing at the board games he left right in plain sight so he'd remember.]

Ah, right. The board game I wanted to play with you! That's the one on the top.

[Sure enough, Pie Face the Game sits proudly atop the other boxes.]

Sit anywhere you like, Sans! My home is your home! Unless you want to leave trash around. Then you must treat it like King Asgore's home! Which is to say, don't.

[Looks like they're headin' for Papyrus's place. That's fine. He can take stock of whether his roomies are okay after he's...caught his breath. Needs a lotta breath for a guy without lungs, huh?

Not really what he meant, but the sentiment counts. Sans more or less pours himself onto the nearest couch, facedown, and stays there for a second. "Sit" and "lie down" are synonymous, right?]

Don't worry, bro. [His voice rumbles out a little muffled due to how he's kind of faceplanted into the couch cushions, but the words are still audible.] I'd hate to make ya feel down in the dumps, heh heh.

[Papyrus had said he was going to cook Sans some food, get his energy up, but he... hovers near the door, still. Fidgeting with the knob behind his back as he watches Sans collapse onto the couch. They can wait on the food, for now. The other skeleton isn't starving, just... tired. He must have been out there for a while.

That shambling horde at Sans' back... That was a close call.

He's uncharacteristically quiet for a few moments, but it passes and he pushes himself away from the door.]

Brother-- Gah! [He's cut off by furious scratching at the door. Guess those zombies saw them come inside... He pauses for just one more second, but recovers quickly, turning back to Sans. A zombie presses its face against a window.]

Brother! Are you too tired to talk for a bit? Do you want to just rest?

[He's really gotta get it together. Not just in the broad "get your shit together, Sans" way, the way he tells himself every damn day Underground before proceeding to not get his shit together in any way, shape, or form. This he means in the much more specific "get your shit together, Sans" sense, as in "get your shit together before you get you and your brother killed because you couldn't get your shit together."

Boy, he just really, really loves the way his mind works. What a useful tool, huh?

He almost dozes off despite this mental self-flagellation, right up until the point that zombies claw at the door with the rasping scrach of clawlike hands over stone. He drags himself upright until he's more sitting than half-collapsed on the couch, trying and mostly failing to pull himself back together.]

Probably shouldn't stay here too long. If they get in, we're gonna have to find a back way out, or somethin'.

[No time for sleeping, it seems. No safehouses, metaphorical or otherwise.]

Is there a back way out?

[Hmm. Guess not, then. Sans is right. Safety is priority!]

Yes, there is a back door... You should eat before we continue running, though! You look very tired. Surely we will at least have time for that!

[Maybe not spaghetti, that would take too much time... Oatmeal? That only requires that he... figure out the microwave. Welp.

Without wasting any time, Papyrus heads for the kitchen and gets out some oats into a bowl and adds water from the sink. Then, he turns his attention to the microwave. There doesn't seem to be any numbers on the buttons to speak of, just... strange symbols. Maybe one is the oatmeal button? Papyrus sticks the bowl in and just presses random buttons. Wait, no, not those random buttons, he just changed the time. Nope, not that. Okay, now it's started. He... guesses he can just-- No, okay, it stopped again and started beeping. Jeez. He presses more buttons. This time the beeping keeps going, rapid and incessant.

With a battle cry, Papyrus presses the most amount of buttons he's ever pressed in one go.

Okay. It's started again and doesn't seem to be stopping just yet. He guesses he can just take it out when it seems like enough time has passed; the timer doesn't necessarily have to end. If there even is a timer. There seems to be a clock at least??? Who even knows with this strange thing.

Well. Papyrus comes back out into the living room and looks at Sans sitting on the couch, hands on his hipbones.]

You can at least rest for now, Sans! I will take care of alerting you should an emergency occur! And also when your food is ready. It would take some time for them to scratch their way through the door! They may be sick, but they still seem to have the abilities of a... sluggish sort of human. Do not fret! Papyrus is here to watch out for you!!

[He hopes Sans is not too scared, with all the danger and close calls. Surely a little rest and a warm meal will get him feeling a little better, at least.]

[With more effort than is reasonable, Sans jerks himself to his feet, ambling over to the door. The things are really piling up outside it, though it seems they haven't compromised the structural integrity just yet.

What're they even followin', huh? It's not like either of 'em have meat on their bones or the tantalizing smell of brains to be luring them in. But he's long since given up on applying logic to the way this place works.

He glances back to Papyrus, who's waging war with the microwave with a gusto, prompting a tired chuckle, and threads his way back to park on the couch again.]

Don't think they can get through, yeah. Should be all right. You, uh, you gonna eat anything, get any shut-eye?

[Not to say Papyrus doesn't have a conception of his own limits, but after the hell of a day this has been? He wouldn't be surprised if his brother was feeling really bone tired at this point.]

[Papyrus is tired, after his constant patrolling of routes through Hadriel and running around trying to help and/or avoid zombies. But he had completely forgotten himself, distracted by worrying over Sans. Now that Sans mentions it, Papyrus starts to feel the small aches that have set into his joints.

Bone tired indeed.]

Ah, yes! I was so concerned about you, I forgot about the most important person of all -- myself!! There should be enough oatmeal to share. But as long as you are tired, I cannot rest! So that you may sleep easy!

[With that, Papyrus goes to stop the microwave and get the oatmeal out so he can split it into two bowls. He gets out some spoons, and brings the bowls back to the living room to hand one to Sans.]

Eat up, Sans! Food is a good source of energy as well!

[He accepts the bowl of the stuff without really...understanding, fully, what it is he's meant to do with it. There's a shiver of magic in it that he can detect without much effort, so it'll go down all right.

He just, uh...well, it's not like he's got any HP to recover, huh? Just the one. Just the fun one, hah. But still, it's a pretty nice gesture. So he dips his spoon in the stuff and starts eating.]

You can sleep first, bro. 'S no problem.

[Honestly, he's exhausted, but just sitting here and eating is doing him a world of good better than zipping all over the city willy-nilly.]

I gotta eat this up first anyway, right?

[Papyrus pauses, ready to argue that no, Sans should go first, he seems much more tired, but, well... it's true that Sans can't sleep and eat at the same time.]

Well! You must make sure to wake me up once you are finished eating, okay? And no later!

[That seems like a good compromise.

Papyrus finally sits down next to Sans, and the exhaustion sets into his bones right away. He curls up on his side on the other section of the couch and closes his eye sockets.

Normally, when Papyrus tries to sleep, he can do it right away. He tends to only fall asleep when he absolutely needs to and not for a second longer than necessary to keep going, skipping most nights altogether. By the time he's running out of energy, it's easy to just collapse and rest. But right now, he can't seem to fall asleep right away.

Maybe it'll come to him. Maybe he just has to wait for it.]

Sure thing, bro.

[Honestly, he intends to let Papyrus get what must be the first actual, complete sleep he's gotten since he got here. Recovering above your max HP and all, which is, let's face it, something they could both use in circumstances like this.

For a moment there's silence but for the clink of spoon on bowl, then Sans glances at his brother, slow and sidelong. It's obvious from the tension in his bones that he's still wide awake.]

Can't say we've got Fluffy Bunny here but, uh...you wanna story?

[Papyrus opens one eye socket.]

...Yes. I think that would be good!

[Perhaps that is what he needs now! A good story. Sans' voice can be gentle and soothing, familiar and safe. Exactly what he needs to get right to sleep.]

All righty.

[He's not got much in the way of books. Maybe a textbook or two lying around, if Hermann managed to harass Delight enough for one. Looks like he'll be improvising again.]

Well, this story is pretty good, 'cause I don't think anyone's ever heard it before. Those're always the best kind, huh?

A story that only I'll have heard?? Wowie! I am excited to hear it!

[The scratches at the door forgotten, Papyrus fixes both eye sockets on Sans now, in anticipation for the story.]

[Sans - he keeps one eyesocket on the door, but nothing seems to be caving in or breaking, so he starts off with one of the few subjects he can say he's got any sense of expertise about.]

Lots of stories start with "once upon a time." Not all of 'em, but plenty do. This one, though. This one doesn't start with "once upon a time." Nah, this one starts with a star.

[He leans back against the cushions of the couch, letting his sockets drop to half-mast as he draws up a narrative from somewhere in the posterior of his skull.]

It was a lonely little star. See, there were no other stars nearby, and all it had to pass the time was the surrounding emptiness of space. Space is real, real quiet. No sound passes there. So the star could talk to itself, tell itself stories, but it couldn't even hear 'em. So the star just hung there, on and on without end, and every day was the same.

[He pauses. There's still scratchin' at the door, but it hasn't increased in tempo or pitch, so he continues.]

But one day, everything changed.

[Papyrus stays quiet, listening to the story begin with rapt attention. Sans is the best at telling stories, and it has been a little while since he's gotten to listen to one. He definitely wants to avoid missing a word.

He's pulled into the story immediately, feeling sorry for the lonely star. Papyrus doesn't know that much about space, didn't know you can't even hear anything in space, and, oh, the poor star. It doesn't even have a brother, or any way to hear a brother's stories in the first place. Papyrus clutches the neck of his scarf. He can't imagine an existence like that.

Papyrus can never keep quiet for long, though, so at the hanging pause of the story's introduction he interrupts with a whisper, a loud whisper but a whisper all the same.]

How did things change? Did it find a friend?

Well, along came this little piece of rock. Bit bigger than most pieces of rock you see floating out in space. Maybe it was the remains of a meteor, or an asteroid. Maybe it came from a whole 'nother world.

Point is, it gets close enough to this star to pick the star for its home. And at first the star is trying to talk to it, say hello, y'know, introduce itself to its new friend. But the rock doesn't answer.

What the star doesn't know is that the rock hasn't really figured out what it's gonna be yet. It takes a long time to work things out. Years, years, and years go by. And all this time, the star is watchin' the thing slowly round itself out, grow larger and larger. It forms a big molten core and its own gravity pulls other debris in. And soon, because the star kept the rock warm and shone its light down on it every day, life started to form.

[His tone is quiet and thoughtful as he continues, eyesockets lidded - not drowsily, but in near-silent contemplation.]

Grass started to grow. Then flowers, then trees. Then animals, monsters, things with hearts and lungs and minds. And they breathed in the air made by the trees made by the light from the star, and they lived.

[Papyrus listens attentively, picturing it in his mind as the scene is described. His eyesockets lid as well -- drowsily, though, in his case. In whispers, he gasps when he realizes that this is a story about the sun, about the Earth.]

Then... the star made its very own friends. A whole rock full of creatures. How nice.

[He yawns, and adjusts himself a little, hugging a couch pillow to his skull.]

[Sans smiles, nodding. Papyrus looks to be nodding off about now, which is good, 'cause the story is just about wrapping up.]

The star made its very own friends. For a long time, it didn't know it. It watched the life start to form on the new planet's surface, and didn't know what to think. It had been so alone for so long. How could things have just changed?

Finally, the creatures of the planet spoke to it.

They said, "we came here to thank you."

They said, "we came because you gave us light and warmth."

They said, "we came because there is no star like you in the entire universe, and we knew you would be ours."

And so the star watched over the creatures of the world as its very own. It gave them light and sunrises and sunsets. It gave them new dawns to look forward to. It gave them hot summer days and a golden sky, and it was happy, for it was no longer alone.

[Papyrus can't help but smile after a happy story like that.]

I'm so happy for all of them.

[It's mostly a mumble at this point. After a short while, his voice is replaced by snores.]

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skelebro - 2016-09-24 07:53 (UTC) - Expand

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Event Log: Dead Men Walking

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guess who is literally eating oatmeal rn lol

i want oatmeal

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