Post by Leon Silverblood on Apr 22, 2009 17:50:04 GMT -5
Through eyes so grey they seem to have congenital cataracts, Leon appraises the horde of shambling disfigured dead. Silently, he begins picking out the ones he'll have barhah with first.
As he moves toward the most delectable zed, a redhead with 1 breast, most of her ass, and a pair of long, somehow unscathed legs, he hears the engine rev and turns his gaze up to the roof of The Elbow Room. He watches the water come down and grins as his tasties are drenched, admiring the view of slick, scaly, zombie skin. But then the stiff dead muscles behind his brows try to make them furrow, a frown of concern as he thinks slowly, like a lump of mud in a can, then his jaw drops in silent protest as he sees the cable, and finally becomes an anguished gravelly scream as the open-air barbecue begins and all his future playmates are turned to crispy critters.
Concerned a little for his own well-being, Leon steps back from them, throwing his arms up in the quintessential "WHY??" gesture at Sarpek. If he weren't a half-wit zed, Leon might know why, but he is, so he doesn't. He takes a long drink from a fresh bottle of rum he's been carrying, turning back toward The Elbow Room with his eyes downcast, and it's this forlorn stare that allows him the full and complete view of the toe of his boot exploding in red, black, and chunky white.
He stops, tilting his head and trying to assimilate what he's just seen. With it's usual molasses speed, his mind figures out just enough to get him to look up to the roof where he sees Noah, Noah's gun, the sheepish look on Noah's face, and gives Noah a clear view of his favorite finger.
Then he tries the door, and finds he's on the wrong side of the barricades. "Gar Dammaz!!" He yells in frustration and kicks with the bad foot. Fortunately, he doesn't feel a thing.
As he moves toward the most delectable zed, a redhead with 1 breast, most of her ass, and a pair of long, somehow unscathed legs, he hears the engine rev and turns his gaze up to the roof of The Elbow Room. He watches the water come down and grins as his tasties are drenched, admiring the view of slick, scaly, zombie skin. But then the stiff dead muscles behind his brows try to make them furrow, a frown of concern as he thinks slowly, like a lump of mud in a can, then his jaw drops in silent protest as he sees the cable, and finally becomes an anguished gravelly scream as the open-air barbecue begins and all his future playmates are turned to crispy critters.
Concerned a little for his own well-being, Leon steps back from them, throwing his arms up in the quintessential "WHY??" gesture at Sarpek. If he weren't a half-wit zed, Leon might know why, but he is, so he doesn't. He takes a long drink from a fresh bottle of rum he's been carrying, turning back toward The Elbow Room with his eyes downcast, and it's this forlorn stare that allows him the full and complete view of the toe of his boot exploding in red, black, and chunky white.
He stops, tilting his head and trying to assimilate what he's just seen. With it's usual molasses speed, his mind figures out just enough to get him to look up to the roof where he sees Noah, Noah's gun, the sheepish look on Noah's face, and gives Noah a clear view of his favorite finger.
Then he tries the door, and finds he's on the wrong side of the barricades. "Gar Dammaz!!" He yells in frustration and kicks with the bad foot. Fortunately, he doesn't feel a thing.
