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Post by Leon Silverblood on Mar 11, 2007 22:15:06 GMT -5
Leon responds "He could combat revive a lot of zombies that way. It would be VERY inefficient, but it could sway a battle, I think. Kind of like the Cold Wars. Spending the most money can mean a victory. And crossbow? I doubt that appeals to the Don. Maybe he would prefer a sniper rifle with a modified tranq round."
Leon turns to the barricades, then to Murray Jay. "What, being nearly dead is an excuse not to save your life? Why aren't you already back to 'cading?" He grins at Murray and winks, knowing Mr. Suskind is bright enough to see the joke.
"Chucky," he says as he turns slowly back to Vito, "was not a friend. Samantha, on the other hand-" A pause as he removes her from her spot on his bandolier. "Samantha was waiting for me to give the word and she'd have sunk that shottie gunnie got into parts of a "harris"ing friend of ours that would make him far less sexual." Leon tosses the possessed doll to Vito. "You don't know yet what prize you have, but give me a rocket and know later how much you have been favored."
Leon takes a seat at one of the tables and begins work on a wooden leg he's taken from a ded-zed. He shaves off large chunks, cutting it down to a one foot length as he gives it the vague hourglass figure that is so often called the "Victorian" build.
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Post by Tovarisch Khrushchev on Mar 11, 2007 22:31:40 GMT -5
Tovarisch came out from under the carpet he had been sleeping/hiding under and dusted himself off.
"What can I say, I get skiddish at times. I'm only a medic after all!"
Tovarisch downed another shot, and took a seat at the bar, slapping a half emptied bottle of Vodka onto the counter.
"I request your finest mystery meat placed on a mold-free piece of bread, and grilled to perfection!" Tovarisch said, spinning around in his chair. "What'd I miss while I was napping?"
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Post by Melody Arachne on Mar 11, 2007 22:38:39 GMT -5
Melody spares a worried glance for Murray, another for the still- active deaders inside the bar.
Oh man ... wish I still had that flak jacket ... they start shooting in here it's gonna be a cluster ...
She grabs one of the bodies by the legs, lifting them up and over the half-finished cades. When she gets it to waist- level she heaves, tossing it into the flailing arms that try to reach through the barrier.
She takes a moment to pocket the several rings she has stripped surreptitiously from dead fingers, then goes back to nailing up boards.
"Vito, my man, I admire your sense of adventure and initiative, but do you think you could live in the moment just a little bit and clear a few deaders? Please?"
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Post by Leon Silverblood on Mar 11, 2007 22:46:58 GMT -5
"Tova!!!!"
Leon rushes over and hauls him to his feet. "Miss? What's to miss? Same old same old. People trying to be 'in charge', zeds trying to eat people whether they're 'in-charge' or not. Here a brain, there a brain, everywhere a rotted brain...Here, smoke this." Leon shoves a pipe in Kruschev's mouth and lights it, holding Tova's nose shut as the opium cooks. "Gonna make Murray take some in a sec...Lemme know what it does for ya!"
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Post by Tovarisch Khrushchev on Mar 11, 2007 22:52:17 GMT -5
Tovarisch inhales, and holds in the smoke. His throat begins to burn, and he coughs madly, pushing the pipe away from his mouth.
"What the hell did you put in that thing? It sure wasn't tobacco!" Tovarisch said, his coughing growing less severe.
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Post by Lachryma on Mar 11, 2007 23:31:43 GMT -5
Lachryma stands up and brushes off her hands.
"Okay, Murray, is all I can do. Take it easy on floor and tell me if you feel undead."
She turns quickly as a zombie lurches up behind her. With a twist of her wrist she frees her rifle and slams the unlucky zed in the face with the butt of the Mosin Nagant.
"Why do I have to be in bar with lazy, druggie hippies?" she asks bitterly as she watches Leon and Khrushchev do illegal things.
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Post by Tovarisch Khrushchev on Mar 11, 2007 23:32:29 GMT -5
"Hippies?" Tovarisch said, placing his hand over his mouth as he let out another cough. "Did I just do something I shouldn't have?"
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Post by Murray Jay Suskind on Mar 12, 2007 0:00:24 GMT -5
Murray stared up at the ceiling as Lachryma went back to dealing with the break-in. His bandaged neck still sore and throbbing. He felt cold and just wanted to wrap himself in a blanket and sleep in a warm bed. But he just lay motionless on the floor, the life slowly draining away from because of an infectious bite placed too well to cure. He tried to say something, but the strength just drained from his body as he embraced the cold darkness that enveloped him.
Murray laid motionless on the ground for a few minutes as everyone was still dealing with the active break-in, trying to keep up with the damage being done to the barricades, trying to expel the zombies they just shot, and Tova and Leon getting high by the bar. Perhaps it was faith in Lachryma's healing ability, the general disarray of a break-in, or just pure laziness on everyone's part, but no one saw that Murray was, in fact dead.
Murray rose to his feet, zombified for the first time. He possessed no conscious thought at all, and the memories of his life seemed to elude him. All he wanted to do was feed the hunger. He grabbed the person closest to them, completely unaware of who it was, grabbed them by the shoulders and delivered a crushing headbut to their nose. As the person collapsed to the ground, Murray reached down and grabbed the person's arm, taking a bite out of their flesh.
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Post by Tovarisch Khrushchev on Mar 12, 2007 0:08:27 GMT -5
"OH SON OF A BITCH!" Tovarisch shouted as Murray's reanimated self bit into his arm.
He reached into his pack with his only free hand, pulling out a Necrotech Syringe and grasping it firmly in his hand. He cringed as Murray sunk his teeth deeper into his arm, contacting bone. He could feel a strange mix of euphoria and sickness overcome him--No doubt a combination of the strange substance Leon had forced him to smoke and the infection of Murray's bite slowly taking its toll on his body. At least he had a small bit of comfort as the no doubt illegal drug began to take effect.
"Lets hope I hit my mark. I'm not exactly in the best of positions to be doing this. I apologize in advance for any permanent damage."
Tovarisch plunged the syringe deep into what he hoped was Murray's spinal column, and pumped the glistening serum out of the tube. Murray's body let out a series of violent jolts and jerks, ripping a section of flesh from Tovarisch's arm as he collapsed backwards to the floor.
"Ok...my turn."
The room spun, and the voices around him began to filter into deep muffled moans. He let out a small laugh as his body succumbed to the effects of the drug, and then passed out from the infection.
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Post by Leon Silverblood on Mar 12, 2007 5:30:14 GMT -5
"Mother FUCK," he swears as his revolver presses to Murray's temple just after the syringe sinks into him. He stares at the zombie as it falls to the ground, trying like hell not to fire anyway as his pistol follows it down. He looks at Tova and speaks in outrage and misery "I don't have any more syringes!!!!"
After a moment's thought, he decks Tovarisch in the nose and mounts his falling body, legs astride Kruschev's torso. He obliterates Tovarisch's face with blood as he knocks him unconscious with several more punches, then pulls out a blade that is apparently half Arkansas Toothpick and half scalpel. He cuts several inches of flesh off around the bite, even carving away bone, though it takes several more brutal, chipping slashes. He frowns as he works, seeing the infected flesh fly off as well as blackened bone where the curse has already spread. He takes of plenty of clean bone to be sure, and patches the horrid wound with a rum-soaked bit of gauze.
When the wound is healed, if it does, Tovarisch will need to soak it in cold water before he can remove that gauze, unless he wants to bleed worse. The packed opening is covered by latex-impregnated fabric, the so-called self-adhering wrap. He kicks Murrays body repeatedly, swearing and swearing and swearing some more as he makes sure his pistol is centered not on Murray's forehead, but Tova's. Leon waits, lips twitching, eyes blinking hard to keep his vision clear. He swears again, knowing he can't blame Murray any more than he could blame Kruschev or Lachryma.
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Post by Melody Arachne on Mar 12, 2007 6:52:46 GMT -5
Melody pauses in her hammering, sniffing at the coppery scent of fresh blood in the air. "Oh now what ..."
She turns, gapes speechlessly at the nightmare scene just behind her.
"For the love a' ... what the hell is wrong with you people? Aren't you supposed to have some sort of medical training?!"
Melody hands off her hammer to Lachryma, gives the pile of debris a disbelieving look, and heads back towards the bar.
"First Rule. Always, but always, have a first aid kit."
She pulls a battered leather satchel from behind the bar, forgetting for just a moment not to lean over too far in the skirt.
"Second Rule. Always have more than one first aid kit." She tugs the bag open, revealing several ... half a dozen kits.
"Third Rule. If it's infected, FAK it. Even if it's dead."
She shakes her head, hands Leon a kit.
"This is not a toy. This is a tool, to help keep you from hacking up people. Just look at that mess on the floor. What do you think the heath inspectors --- well never mind that. It's a mess!"
She considers the wounds, drops another FAK next to the first. "If you need help, for petes sake ask the medic. Medics building barricades, shooters patchin' people up... whats the world coming to?"
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Post by Leon Silverblood on Mar 12, 2007 7:08:33 GMT -5
Leon nearly slaps the piss out of Melody, his eyes straying to her as his pistol remains at Tova's skull. "Where the hell do you think I got the gauze, dumbass! I AM a medic!!" He cools himself, despite the zombie and human-made chaos around him. "I was gonna treat Murray, too, but Lachryma got him. And to her credit, if he could have recovered, he would have."
Leon swears, but the image of her skirt riding up over her hips, showing two impossibly beautiful buttocks like small Christmas hams was burned into his mind, and despite Tova's possible zedification, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her upstairs. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe he's just a horny bastard, but it was just too much and he kicked the door open, flung her into the room, and abandoned anyone downstairs so he could ravage her, his pistol lying atop Tova's unconscious Russian body.
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Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Mar 12, 2007 7:51:15 GMT -5
"Hey fellas, you missed a zed. He's trying to eat my CDs."
The DJ points to a zed in the dark corner which does seem to be feasting on CDs. The zed turns around and says "Mrh? Mrh? Mrh? Mrh? Mrh?"
"Sorry bud. Got no needles on me. I think I left my needles on that tree. Oh well."
Spinbad turns to face everyone.
"Hey. Can we keep this zed as a pet? It seems the only thing it's interested in are my Paris Hilton CDs."
A thought just hit him.
"Shit...I think the zeds outside are attracted to Paris Hilton...Oh boy...that's not good...Um...you know what? I think I'm gonna take these CDs and dump em at the mall."
The DJ attempts to grab his CDs only to be growled at by the lone zed. After a furious struggle for the CD, Spinbad grabs his only pistol and shots the zed in the head.
"Someone dump the body, I'm getting rid of these CDs..."
Spinbad barges out the door.
"Hey zeds! Look what I got! Paris Hilton CDs! I know you want it! Come and get it!"
Spinbad proceeds to run to the nearest mall with a handful of zeds trailing after him.
"10 bucks say I get to the mall before you zeds catch up to me!"
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Post by Lachryma on Mar 12, 2007 9:26:15 GMT -5
Lachryma watches Murray die. She watches Khrushchev get infected. She watches Leon snap. She watches the DJ run off.
"I is only one left to defend bar? I is only one left with needles?"
She goes into the kitchen, changes back into her poncho, emerges with a look sculpted of ice.
"What is point anymore? Let rats clean up mess. Let rats defend worthless bar. We all die anyway."
She climbs to the top of the stairs, then uses an axe from the bar to demolish part of the stairs. She then takes a seat and watches as the zombies fill the bar.
"No free drinks or food, dead ones. You trade for that."
After a moment, she begins reorganizing her stash of NecroTech bandages.
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Post by Tovarisch Khrushchev on Mar 12, 2007 12:38:15 GMT -5
Tovarisch's eyes open, revealing a blood soaked vision of the surrounding area...a strange human building. He had no conscious memories of who he was, where he was, or what was going on, only a nagging desire to feed. He was surrounded by others like him, zombies, but they would not satisfy his hunger.
"Grah! Zambahz zmazh bar!" Tovarisch shouted, flailing his arms in the direction of the bar.
The other zombies instinctively took note of the gesture, and turned their direction towards the disgusting human monument. The sounds of crashing pots and pans came from the kitchen nearby, and the undead began their march. Tovarisch however, had his eyes set on something more peculiar--A flight of stairs, half demolished toward the top.
"Zahhrz?"
Tovarisch ascended the stairs, coming to the point where they had been destroyed, leaving a man sized gap between him and the humans on the other side. A straggling feral had followed him up the stairs, drawn by the scent of human flesh. Tovarisch snagged the feral by the arm, pushing him forward toward the gap. The zombie tripped forward, reached his hands out, and grabbed onto the other side.
"Brahg!"
Tovarisch stepped out onto the feral, balancing on its weakened spine in an attempt to cross the gap. The undead's grasp was too weak however, and it slipped, sending Tovarisch and itself tumbling down. Tovarisch reached out, digging his claws into the wood above him. Using what little strength he had in his rigid limbs, he lifted himself up, crawling onto the upper story of the building.
The room was filled with humans, filled with food. He began to salivate, using up the last bit of saliva that his body had produced as a human. He moved quickly toward two humans in the corner who seemed to be fighting...only one had no clothes... Reaching out with a tangling grasp, he grabbed a hold of the naked man, and pulled himself toward him. His jaws opened into a gaping maw, and he bit down on the mans neck, sinking his teeth deep into his flesh.
"Here, smoke this."
Tovarisch ripped the bit of flesh off his victim, and then pushed back as the memory flashed in his mind. A memory of the naked man, and of smoke. He twisted around wildly as if in a drunken stupor, blood still dripping down his chin. The memory faded, and he turned back to his victim, his desire to feed no longer masked by compassion fueled memories.
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