capeandcowllogs | Time to make the doughnuts

Entry tags:

Time to make the doughnuts

WHO: OPEN
WHERE: EVERYWHERE
WHEN: between Wednesday morning (3/17) and the end of the zombie plot
WARNINGS: prolly icky violence
SUMMARY: ZOMBIE FIGHTINGS. This is an open log, like last time, so go where you will, form your own zombie-killing teams or meet new fellow fighters on the street! Tag yourself in, and use subject headers to indicate time and/or location as you wish.
FORMAT: everything.

They're everywhere.

So many people falling sick meant so many zombies suddenly flooding the streets, pouring out of the hospitals where no one could help, stumbling out of their homes, obeying their master's orders.

They need to be taken down before they kill the healthy. Before the City is in ruins and the living are wiped out. They need you, heroes.

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"Try it and I'll cut you up myself," Fakir sneered, having misconstrued the question. He turned his sword on the monsters, keeping his form tight and defensive until granted an opportune time to strike a killing blow. Being as these were lurching hunger-machines with little to no sense of tactics, these opportunities came quickly, and he was able to liberate one's head from its body while the ravens mauled two others.

"I meant by the monsters," Kraehe said, sighing. Being high up and somewhat safe made her a little bit more nonchalant about the situation than she was earlier, but she still knew that Fakir was only human, and that the idiot would die if he let his guard down for a second.

Spotting a group of crows congregating near him, distracted by the prospect of a live meal, she barked a few harsh orders at them, and they reluctantly fluttered back to work.

Somehow, Fakir found it rather easy to pay little mind to the ravens,focusing instead on the encroaching monsters. One staggered out of a nearby alley. slurring some gibberish with its mangled face. Fakir liked to tell himself that he over being disgusted by these things, but that was only a polite lie. He recoiled in disgust before collecting himself and took a swing at the thing, sheering off the rest of its jaw.

Maybe it had been a bad idea to call out to Rue. His voice seemed to have attracted more of the damned things.

Kraehe grimaced at the disgusting way Fakir had killed the monster, suddenly very grateful that she had enough power to stay up her and keep her hands from getting dirty. Unbeknownst to her, a few zombies had taken advantage of her raven's distractedness to climb up to stairs and onto the balcony, staggering surprisingly quickly towards her.

She turned around just in time to find herself facing one of them, and swore fervently as she conjured up a feather to change into a dagger and plunge into the creature's neck.

"Ignore him and get up here now!" she called out angrily to her ravens, stabbing it again. Oh, but it smelled so awful.

Surprisingly, this scenario posed no dilemma to Fakir. In this moment, his mind put Rue on the same level as any other bystander in the city, enemy or no.

He rushed the staircase, swinging his sword in wide arcs and grimacing whenever he felt the decaying bones cleave under his sword. He had to leap over the bodies he couldn't fling over the railing, but he did make it to Rue. He swept the monster aside with a hard kick. With Rue so close, using his sword would have been foolish.

Kraehe stared at Fakir a moment, surprised he was doing anything to help her. Stupid knight. She could handle this herself, she thought, even as she pushed one of the zombies he killed over the railing of the balcony.

Luckily for both of them, her distress had called upon even more ravens than before, and soon the balcony was rushed by a large hoarde of beaks and claws, tearing at anything in their path, and barely missing their mistress quite a few times.

"Let's get out of here," she said, looking over at Fakir as she tried to escape the cloud of ravens and zombies.

"A good idea for once," Fakir muttered as he ducked out of the range of the ravens' claws. Even at is most foolhardy, Fakir found this amount of tearing beaks and claws disturbing, perhaps more so than the reanimated dead. Swallowing his fear as best he could, he set to work cutting a swath through the hoards that had encroached on the staircase so that he and Rue could safely reach the street.

Rue followed close behind him, crouching so as to avoid her ravens. They really were such an ungraceful weapon, at times. When they got out of the mess of claws and dead flesh, she stood up straight, and took in her surroundings very quickly before deciding what to do.

The monsters in this area had thinned out considerably, but there were still some approaching from other parts of town, slowly lurching towards the two fresh meals. It was at that moment that it occurred to her that the supply of zombies might be infinite, and that, if this continued, her supply of ravens might not be.

She turned to look at Fakir, as if to assure herself he was still there, before calling one of the ravens to her to change it into a small rapier. Rue was not strong enough to use a real sword, but she had enough sense to know that she needed something other than the ravens to keep these monsters off of her.

Fakir, considering the circumstances, looked remarkably confident. It had not yet occurred to him that there may be an infinite number of ghouls to contend with. In his mind, their numbers must be limited, if large.

And a hidden part of him secretly thrilled at the experience, at wading into danger and for once holding his own.

"Are you going to prod them to death?" he asked, just as a flesh-bare hand took hold of his shoulder and yanked him back as if to punish him for his bravado.

Rue turned around to glare at him for his comment, but instead found herself shoving him to the side, and plunging her sword into the creature that had grabbed him. Unfortunately, Fakir had been a little right about the effectiveness of her weapon, and it took here several tried before the thing finally collapsed to the ground.

"Idiot," she muttered, yanking her sword out of the corpse. "You really do want to get killed, don't you?"

"Not yet," Fakir replied coldly as he gathered his senses and scanned the surrounding area. He could hear the monsters, but saw very few. It was almost unsettling. "You ought to use something different than that. It's hardly effective against these things."

"What else am I supposed to use?" she said, looking around wildly. She heard them too, but from where, she couldn't tell.

As Fakir considered this, he started making his way down the empty street, motioning for Rue to follow. They couldn't afford to stay in one place, not with all the shuffling and slurred mumbles of hunger. Not when they were outside. Just then, a horrible thought occurred to him, and he nearly stopped in place.

"Rue. Have you seen Mytho since we last spoke?"

Rue stopped in her tracks as soon as she heard the question, monsters be damned.

"N-no..." she said slowly.

"I'm sure he's all right," Fakir said hastily, more to reassure himself than to quiet Rue's mind. He turned around when he realized her steps weren't following his ,and impatiently waved for her to move again. "He can disappear at will. I'm certain he's all right."

"I-I suppose," she said, not wanting to think about the alternative. Noticing she was stopped in the middle of a very dangerous situation, she stepped up next to him, walking along very carefully.

There was no way he could be in danger, Fakir assured himself. He was better equipped to handle this than they were, at least as far as escape was concerned. At least he had the ability to fear, now, and know when to flee...

Metal clattered against concrete in an alley up ahead, followed by wet gurglings of "Hungry..." growing nearer to the street. Fakir put an arm out before Rue and readied his sword, watching the opening to the alley closely.

"Be ready to ru-" he began, cutting his sentence short as a small crowd of the things shambled into the light cast by the streetlamps. "Shit."

Edited 2010-03-20 00:44 (UTC)

About that time, they might have heard a voice growling out...body parts? In French? One at a time, accompanied by the crack of something hard hitting bones and flesh each time. It finished up with "...Veau SHOT!" at which the crowd of ghouls tumbled aside like bowling pins - revealing Sanji in the middle, standing on one leg, the other in the air, having plowed one zombie into the rest of them. He was smoking again, looking rather dirty and disheveled, and pissed. "Get out of my damn way!" he added for the zombies' benefit.

Of course Rue had panicked as soon as she saw the crowd of monsters, and may or may not have willed her weapon to grow just a little bigger. But in the moments following that, some strange madman started calling out random words, and the she saw him plowing through, fighting the creatures with nothing but his legs. It was at that moment that she recognized him as that pirate who'd come to help Fakir get Mytho from her that one time. The one with those odd ideas about friendship.

Around that time, a cloud of crows appeared overhead, waiting for their mistress to give them their next orders. Wordlessly, the directed them to the group of zombies near Sanji, not to help him or anything, but to get rid of them so she wouldn't have to fight them herself.

~~Him again?~~

Fakir was grateful for the help, of course, confused as he was by Sanji's sudden appearance. He immediately moved in to weed out the monsters left standing, relieved at the relative ease with which his sword sliced through them.

"What are you doing out in this mess?" he asked before whirling around to hack through an encroaching ghoul. God, they made a hideous mess.

Sanji noticed the crows first, and eyed them warily, but then heard Fakir's voice and turned in his direction. "Trying to get home," he replied curtly, stepping forward only to snap his leg out sideways and clothesline an advancing zombie. His inhuman stamina was threatening to run out, so he wasn't doing any jumping kicks at the moment, but he still had enough energy to walk up to the other two and check to be sure neither were injured. It was a little odd seeing supposed enemies together, but in a melee like this, it was almost expected.

"...you kids all right?"

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Time to make the doughnuts

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Interlopers welcome after this post

oh. uh. hi.

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