Post by Leon Silverblood on Mar 7, 2007 17:36:50 GMT -5
"I sure hope so, Lachryma, because I don't think anyone else here likes me enough to bandage my piddly ass after I go and "distract" these undead. Besides, you have very pretty hands, I bet you can stitch me up pretty good, huh?"
Leon runs outside before anyone can start fixing the barricades, his fireaxe in one hand and a fifth-sized bottle of rum tainted with root beer in the other. On the way out he sinks the blade several inches into a dead-head and keeps up a mad dash. Grabbing Samantha, then Castor from their spots on his bandolier, he jams each into an eye socket of a nearby zombie, whispering to them excitedly "Good s***, man! It's like Cocaine! Straaaaight to the braaaain!"
Leon dances around the little mob, which is not nearly the "horde" that frightened DJ. Perhaps he was just intimidated by the rat. Leon does mock pirouettes in and out of the reach of the stiff-armed former humans, unable to attack them except with fists and fingers. He plucks eyeballs from random skulls, exclaiming "Can't eat what ya can't see!" and planting a sloppy wet kiss on one particularly familiar-
He cringes suddenly and smacks the eye back into it's hole, patting it gently and then running to the other side of the mob to start clowning and tumbling for a few zeds, who turn for what seems an easy target. "Hey! Ron Burgundy's out here!!" he shouts back to the survivors at the bar, silently hoping Ron doesn't bear a grudge about the optic incident. Leon has of course picked up a few bites, and several scratches by now, and amuses himself greatly by bleeding into the eyes of those zeds whose balls he can't pluck from their sockets. Once in a while he tosses an eyeball at Murray, or past him into the bar, waving and laughing. Leon has successfully blinded at least half of the mini-horde of 20, and estimates that they are merely ferals brought together by a feeding groan. Well, he may have only killed three of them, but the rest will have a damned hard time telling the door from the cades.
Leon begins to feel a little sluggish, and as his ballet-ish buffooning starts to slow, he notices the room isn't spinning any slower. He holds up a hand, showing himself a well-chomped wrist, just a few of many more gouges in various places , and as it pours out blood like a squeezed sponge, he watches with detached interest. In the road, he staggers a few steps before grabbing hold of a new undead friend, falling onto him and looking up to make smoochy-faces. "Gonna buy me a drink first, sailor?" He grabs on tight and lifts himself as he pulls the head down and sideways, then with all his strength bites into the cervical spine and rips three vertebrae fully out. He spits them into the road as the zed falls and he doesn't.
Leon turns to the doorway of The Elbow Room and manages to focus on Murray Jay somewhere between the spots of red, yellow, white. Leon doesn't know blood is spurting approximately 8 feet up into the air and to his left from the neck-bite that he just picked up, but is well aware that he's a dead man, as he knew the moment he ran out to have fun, kill a potato-head, and provide a cover which is much better than lead since many zombies actually staggered around groping after him for a few minutes.
Whether the slur is that of a man drunk from loss of blood or gain of alcohol, it's there, and thick. Leon mumbles something indecipherable as he grabs the dyke Barbie Pollux and wings her at Murray. She flies past him, through the doorway and after that he loses sight of her. Leon grins at Murray, heaves a heavy drunken arm into the air and waves, grinning as his head lolls to the side and he falls sideways, cracking his skull and adding red to the yellow dash that runs down the center of the road.
In the hand he waved was a bloody, dirty iPod. Leon has apparently just done "interpretive dance" to Tchaikovksy's The Nutcracker. And caught a rat; dead and in his coat pocket.
*edits: minor clarifications, typos, sentences
Leon runs outside before anyone can start fixing the barricades, his fireaxe in one hand and a fifth-sized bottle of rum tainted with root beer in the other. On the way out he sinks the blade several inches into a dead-head and keeps up a mad dash. Grabbing Samantha, then Castor from their spots on his bandolier, he jams each into an eye socket of a nearby zombie, whispering to them excitedly "Good s***, man! It's like Cocaine! Straaaaight to the braaaain!"
Leon dances around the little mob, which is not nearly the "horde" that frightened DJ. Perhaps he was just intimidated by the rat. Leon does mock pirouettes in and out of the reach of the stiff-armed former humans, unable to attack them except with fists and fingers. He plucks eyeballs from random skulls, exclaiming "Can't eat what ya can't see!" and planting a sloppy wet kiss on one particularly familiar-
He cringes suddenly and smacks the eye back into it's hole, patting it gently and then running to the other side of the mob to start clowning and tumbling for a few zeds, who turn for what seems an easy target. "Hey! Ron Burgundy's out here!!" he shouts back to the survivors at the bar, silently hoping Ron doesn't bear a grudge about the optic incident. Leon has of course picked up a few bites, and several scratches by now, and amuses himself greatly by bleeding into the eyes of those zeds whose balls he can't pluck from their sockets. Once in a while he tosses an eyeball at Murray, or past him into the bar, waving and laughing. Leon has successfully blinded at least half of the mini-horde of 20, and estimates that they are merely ferals brought together by a feeding groan. Well, he may have only killed three of them, but the rest will have a damned hard time telling the door from the cades.
Leon begins to feel a little sluggish, and as his ballet-ish buffooning starts to slow, he notices the room isn't spinning any slower. He holds up a hand, showing himself a well-chomped wrist, just a few of many more gouges in various places , and as it pours out blood like a squeezed sponge, he watches with detached interest. In the road, he staggers a few steps before grabbing hold of a new undead friend, falling onto him and looking up to make smoochy-faces. "Gonna buy me a drink first, sailor?" He grabs on tight and lifts himself as he pulls the head down and sideways, then with all his strength bites into the cervical spine and rips three vertebrae fully out. He spits them into the road as the zed falls and he doesn't.
Leon turns to the doorway of The Elbow Room and manages to focus on Murray Jay somewhere between the spots of red, yellow, white. Leon doesn't know blood is spurting approximately 8 feet up into the air and to his left from the neck-bite that he just picked up, but is well aware that he's a dead man, as he knew the moment he ran out to have fun, kill a potato-head, and provide a cover which is much better than lead since many zombies actually staggered around groping after him for a few minutes.
Whether the slur is that of a man drunk from loss of blood or gain of alcohol, it's there, and thick. Leon mumbles something indecipherable as he grabs the dyke Barbie Pollux and wings her at Murray. She flies past him, through the doorway and after that he loses sight of her. Leon grins at Murray, heaves a heavy drunken arm into the air and waves, grinning as his head lolls to the side and he falls sideways, cracking his skull and adding red to the yellow dash that runs down the center of the road.
In the hand he waved was a bloody, dirty iPod. Leon has apparently just done "interpretive dance" to Tchaikovksy's The Nutcracker. And caught a rat; dead and in his coat pocket.
*edits: minor clarifications, typos, sentences
