The Elbow Room

[Leon Silverblood]

Leon grunts, an admission of one more thing he didn't like to face. One more thing that made life harder if you tried to deal with it because you can't. There is no dealing with it. No coming up with a solution, no eliminating the source of stress by problem solving or aggression. Ah, sweet avoidance. The strongest and foremost of all defense mechanisms.

Another shot for Leon. As much as he drinks these days, it hardly effects him. It takes a few bottles between dawn and noon just to get him level-headed. He wonders briefly why he keeps it up, then realizes he wouldn't be having this internal discourse on psychology without it. He'd probably be eating the business end of the pistol he'd drawn earlier, and with the safety off this time.

Another shot. He feels numb enough to face it, so hell, why not?

"A movie I saw before all this happened had a character who said "On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero." I don't like to believe it's true but it IS the most likely thing. The large handfuls of survivors left dwindle down to smaller handfuls. If they're lucky enough to have children without the babies drawing enough zeds to eat the family, it won't happen often enough. The gene pool will become shallow, inbreeding will cut whatever small chance anyone has then in half, and we'll cycle down to extinction."

"However," he continues with the tiniest bit of hope allowed to creep into his voice. "There is enough genetic diversity remaining even now to pass on the immunity that some people don't know they have. You see, thanks to 'genetic drift', it's infeasible for any single organism to successfully attack more than 98% of the population. That leaves 2 out of a hundred people immune."

Then his eyes lower and his head drops again.

"But zombies don't just infect, do they? And there's no genetic solution to having your guts torn out."

He takes a deep breath and steels himself for the final analysis, swallowing hard but forcing the wicked truth out.

"Things will get a lot worse. They'll never get better...No, not without intervention. Under quarantine, there is no other outcome. Everybody eventually dies. We might last one half of another generation. Our teenagers may see the sun, but not for long. I don't think calculate anyone born today makes it past 20, and anyone else will be long gone before then."

He's silent for long moments, then looks over at Noah and tilts his head in a sideways shrug. No wonder he'd got lost in his own attic. Leon takes another deep breath. Another shot. Another shot. And lets go, releases the pain in a long sigh that isn't quite sad, just relaxing.

"You know, though. It doesn't change a thing, the virus. We're born. We die. If it weren't this, it would be something else. Car accident. Electrocution. Some other disease. We're the same as the people outside this quarantine wall. They'll die, too. They'll perpetuate the species, but they'll die too. Our odds are just a little higher each day than theirs are. So! Eat! Drink! Be merry! For tomorrow, on this side of the wall, on that side of the wall, you die!"

His laughter is sincere, his own irony has brought back his usual good cheer. He raises his bottle and smiles to Giddien.

ValJohn appears with a burger and sets it down before him. He looks up at the 40ish cook and nods, passing him the bottle. Val upends the bottle, taking a swig, then wipes his mouth and passes it back. Leon punches him lightly in his large but not enormous belly and could almost swear he hears the slightest grunt of a laugh from old ugly as he turns and walks off again.

"You da man, Val. Now go be grumpy like I'm used to."

[ghostlight]

Listening to this Giddien has drained the cup of coffee had another smoke started. "This side of the wall we don’t exist, not anymore...Halo was the last group...the last outsiders to come in at all." he stood slowly and walked toward Leon.
"This is bullshit, how do you sit there and swallow it, day by day you die a little more inside" he throws the cigarette to the floor, "How do you justify your existence...me, I have things to live for and as long as I can find ammo...as long as I am breathing I will survive!" his voice was not loud. His eyes where cold and filled with an experience of death and rage.
Leon was across the table staring and Giddien picked up the table and slung it across the room, “Is this how you plan to survive?”

[Definitely Not Axe Hack]

The DJ pops up from his usual spot. Then, he looks back down and resumes to turning the bar into a radio station.

"I think I might need a longer range sattelite transmitter thing..."

[ghostlight]

"See Leon that, is exsactly the bullshit I am talking about what in gods name do you need a DJ in this bar for?" Pointing at the man but not looking, "For christ sake you should have a weapon smith or doctor...but not a fucking DJ!" he sighed and stepped back "Your all a joke" Giddien light another smoke and turned his back on Leon.

Through the ciggerett in his lips he said softly, "Have you ever wondered why your still alive Leon, I sure as hell have, out of all the Halo members why me?"

(Leon ya know I love ya but I thought a little clash of personalitys would do some good here..you know me always ready to jump on somthing and run with it for good or bad LOL)

[Noah]

Noah is chewing on the old rat jerky in the corner, gnawing away happily and wagging his butt in the air in lue of a tail.

[Sarpek]

Sarpek appears behind Giddeon. "If He's just a DJ, I'm Cindy Crawford. He's also a weapons expert, and I'm the resident Macgyver. He's saved my Ass more then once."

[Leon Silverblood]

Leon was on his feet as soon as Giddien swept the table away, listening to him rant, his face expressionless. At his last words, Leon tilted his head slightly.

"Why me?" he quotes back to the man.

"After all that, you finish with Why Me? You whining, indignant prick. You think you're just the cock of the walk out there putting holes dead men, and all the while behind your little thousand-yard stare you're holding together by a shoestring of self-pity. Until you learn to care for the ones around you, lone ranger, the ones just as condemned as you are, you're a liability. A nutcase waiting to crack."
"This place," he hisses through clenched teeth, "is here to keep ALL our nutcases from cracking."
He picks up his liquor, holds it out, "Medicine for me," and let's it drop and shatter on the floor.
He kicks the coffeecup that was overturned when the table was. "Medicine for you!"
And grabs a turntable. "Medicine for everyone!"

With that shout he heaved it at Gidden. As soon as it had left his hands he was charging the big man. Stitches and staples for the flesh. Music, drink, and good company for the soul. That was Leon's approach to saving lives, and no trenchie was gonna tell him otherwise. Sure, he got along with men with guns. He carried one. He knew the deal. Everyone has a job. But everyone also has a sore spot. Giddien had pushed the right button while Leon was in the wrong mood, and the thin doctor was in a rage.

*edit:
(The Elbow Room's first legitimate rp fight! ding ding!)

[Noah]

Leon was in trouble! Noah jumped in to protect his buddy. He bared his teeth and lept for the man's jugular. He wanted blood and he wanted it now!

[Angel]

*Engel swaggers in from the roof after years of going between life and unlife, always doing what fancied him the most be it killing his fellow humans to cutting the head of a zombie off. He is wearing an awful looking set of clothing and bears an old and faded set of patches on the jacket. Both of them have the initials "GC" on them, but in different scripts."

...

*Steps closer to the continuing fight*

...

*Gestures to the rat jerky*

...

*Closes one eye as the other one is heavily damaged*

"Lagrehmah..."

*Sways around some more*

"Mrh?"

[ghostlight]

With an almost ghostly speed he was in action, doing what his body was trained, no, born to do. The turn table sailed just past his face, as his hand snapped out and gripped the cord. Using his own forward momentum he spun around, the turntable made a sick crunch as it collided with Noah's face sending him sailing back across the room.

He moved with the grace of a dancer, coming in contact quickly with Leon, there blows landing heavily on one another. Battle rage filled Giddien as he sidestepped a heavy hook from Leon, catching his arm and throwing him, the momentum of the blow carried the throw further then Giddien had expected. Leon landed with a thud.

Giddien shuffled back, his stance low, his body wound like a spring. He spit out the blood from his mouth, ".....My younger brother...his wife....and my twin nieces...are in this hole somewhere...that is what I hold onto...” He felt like a jackhammer had drummed out on his skull, Leon did not look it but he was strong.

"If my case dose crack Leon...maybe you will be there to see it...but it’s not today...”

[Leon Silverblood]

Jesus Christ, where's he hiding the brick?, he thought as he waited a moment for the room to stop moving. He knew Giddien was feeling it, too, but Giddien wasn't on his back. Leon flexed his hands, mentally checking himself for serious injuries with expert speed and ease. He cursed himself for fighting at all, lest he break fingers or worse. As he tested his dexterity he knew he was fine, knew he should stop, and knew he wouldn't.

Leon rolled over and returned to his feet slowly, suppressing a groan. He was getting a painful reminder that compared to the undead, people are FAST. Coordinated. Clever. This guy wasn't clawing at him, he was parrying and trapping Leon's attacks, doing blunt force trauma to his abdomen and catching the surgeon in the face with elbows. No, fighting people was not like fighting zombies.
Speaking of zombies, he glanced sideways at the one they'd kept crashing into. GC...GC...The letters blurred, clarified, swam. Ghetto Cow? And was he trying to say Lachryma?

Turning to Deshane: "YOUR wife, YOUR brother, YOUR nieces. All about YOU isn't it?" He spat blood onto the floor and looked then to Noah, his friend, lately his...pet? Bruised, but he'd be fine. Probably wouldn't remember a thing, and maybe the bump on the noggin' would straighten him out a bit. The pang of guilt was there, though, and Leon apologized to Noah silently.

He dusted himself off, stretched out muscles that hadn't been on the spot in a while and made them ready. Again he looked at the zed, which hadn't come through the barricades."And who the hell are you?? You're not Lachryma." He pulled a syringe in a shatterproof case from the pocket of his lab coat and tossed it to Val. "If he's just a DJ, I'm Cindy Crawford." Yeah. And if Val was just a cranky old cook, Leon was a social drinker.

Then he forgot it all, centering his perpetually drunken mind on breaking some of this guys teeth. Sure, he'd be the one to have to fix him up afterward, but he was asking for it. Sure, he looked like the last person on Earth Leon would be wise to f*** with. And sure, survivors beating other survivors to death didn't do a god damned kernel of good in the war for survival, but pissed off is pissed off.

Leon boxed the man now, not charging in as he had before. He focused on drawing Giddien's punches and then countering them, targeting his ribcage and armpits. The first would take his breath. The second would affect the large nerves that run into the arms. Loss of coordination and strength, even paralysis of an entire arm could be expected if he hit the right spot hard enough or enough times. And it would hurt like hell.

Because Leon was a drunk, he couldn't fight as well as a soldier, let alone an elite. But because he was a doctor, he knew how to disable a man with a wave of the hand. Still, a rather impaired wave of the hand.

Behind them, ValJohn was injecting the tattered deader. The LED lights in the syringe flashed, and it slumped to the floor. Shouldn't be long, now.

[Sarpek]

There is the distinct sound of a shotgun being cocked, and the barrel pokes into Gideon's back. Sarpek grimaces. "Not in my bar you don't..." He pulls the trigger, and there is a loud click. He drops the shotgun, and retreats to a safer distance.

[Leon Silverblood]

((*poke* Sarpek! it's okay! he's a friend of mine, we're trying to bring some real roleplay battling to the bar! *presses the no-cheating switch under the bar and Sarpek is suddenly ten feet further from the action. From the end of his barrel comes a spray of popcorn.* delete or modify your post, please? You can join in, but we're doing a sort of demonstration, you see. Your posts don't have to be this long, but you might notice neither of us has, say, declared the other instantly dead.))


OOC: LMFAO, ok that works xD
I guess all my posts to you gaiz will be OOC since I'm having so much fun with this slugfest and it would be an awefully weird storyline for him to freeze while i wander around the bar. Maybe I should bring another character in lol What's up sarpek! Thanks, btw. /OOC

[ghostlight]

His heart was racing, and after the misfire from the attacker’s shotgun, it was almost behind his eyes. The adrenalin pumped through his veins like a water main. He was still in his low stance, stepping back he picked up the shotgun and ran his hands over it. Never taking his eyes from Leon he deftly ejected the shells and disassembled the weapon with a skill from years of experience. Giddien tossed pieces of the dismantled weapon all across the bar, “armature.”

“Your right Leon, it is about me, it is about the one thing here I have to hold on to” he began to circle closer to his opponent. “I help those I find because it’s the right thing to do...and every diseased and slag brained group of survivors I came across...that I tried to stay with tossed me out on my ass because of what I am.” Giddien spat another mouthful of blood, “I was the source of THERE hate and fear and anger just because I was sent into the walls by the military.”

He spat at Leon's feet, “So excuse me for having somewhat of a “Lone ranger” personality.” Giddien shot in and landed a heavy strike to Leon’s upper thigh causing him to stagger. As Giddien came up the wind rushed from his chest as the punch Leon himself landed had slipped through his defense and cracked a rib, “Fucking Christ, he is strong...!”

Giddien staggered back as Leon charged; before he could get his breath back he was on the ground with a pair of thumbs trying to pop his eyes. Giddien grabbed his attacker’s wrists and swept one leg up and crossed over, catching Leon by the neck. Still holding the hands he twisted his whole body, dropping Leon to his back now in an arm bar. Giddiens voice came out chocked as he sucked air back into his lungs“I sware to god if you don’t calm down Leon I will snap your arms off at the joint...”

[Leon Silverblood]

Leon grinned to himself. Rage had them both, but he'd struck a nerve in Giddien, it seemed. Even highly-trained warriors like him, veritable G.I. Joes, lost their edge a little when they got too emotional, and boy was this guy pissed. Leon grunted the words out through his efforts. He was on his back, Giddien on his right, both of the doctor's arms running up through Deshane's legs to his chest where they were held firm. "Idiot. You forgot...an arm bar...only works...on one..ARM-"

In a move like that, both of one person's hands hold the other man's one. Gripping at the wrist, they clench it to his chest while his hips push upward, torquing the victim's right arm. Giddien's legs, wrapped around Leon's arm and pushing down on his chest as Giddien stretched himself out, would have rendered him helpless. But Giddien had both hands. This actually gave Leon leverage and prevented the hold from being locked on him.

He pulled with his left hand, hard, easing the tension on his right. Biting the words off as he maneuvered, "ARM" marked a hard jerk that freed his right hand. Immediately he punched Giddien in the balls, praying someone who shot zombies all day wouldn't wear a cock-blocker. Quick as he could, he jerked his left hand back, too. "Get f***ed!"