|
|
Post by Magatsu Taito on Aug 31, 2007 9:06:24 GMT -5
Magatsu, after haven having tried to get into the Beacham Cineam a few times, comes back once more, this time from the roof. He jumps down from a hole in the celling, and promptly kills a table in the process from landing on it.
After brushing some of the splintered wood out of his hair, he heads on over towards the bar, carying the only thing he found at the Cinema, a old Russian field medical kit.
He sits down for a while, checking out the very small supplie of asorted alcohol, shakes his head, pull out a old syringe from the med kit, and inject himself with it. A blissfull smile comes upon his face as the morphine kicks in.
|
|
|
|
Post by ArkenRennatta on Aug 31, 2007 10:31:05 GMT -5
(I.. totally couldn't read everything in this thread, there was just too much, but I think I got the jist of what is going on. Also, as an interesting side note, I'm insanely tired at the moment so please forgive any mistakes that might be in my post.)
Aged cerulean irises would peer up at the seemingly dilapidated building, attention caught by the flickers of failing light licking out into the open streets through cracks in the various boarded up windows. What little light bled out from the building illuminated the graffiti which stained the outside walls, blanketing the faded bricks in obscure diagrams of pentagrams, lewd stick figures, and perhaps most important of all, the propaganda. What a charming little place, safe heaven of sleepless for those without a home. Certainly wasn't the Ritz. Hell, the Roach Motel had more reputable clientele, but it was hard to argue with running lights and company of the living, and perhaps feminine, variety.
Taking a long, eager stride up the cement steps, he found himself in the archway of the building. Leather clad hand was drawn of from his idle side, fingertips extending forth to take hold. The battle weary metallic door let loose a long, disturbing screech as it was guided along its hinges, the rusted joints crying out in passive protest as force was applied. The sound would undoubtedly catch in the ears of all those who resided in the bar, which of course was a good thing when trying to survive during a Zombie Apocalypse. The imposing barricade was once again set, rather carefully, back into the brick and mortar frame of the buildings entrance. At least that simple act would show that whoever just joined the fun had enough common sense not to let in a draft. Also, hungry undead, though a draft could be just as deadly in some cases.
Heavy leather boots would sweep halfheartedly over the dirt laden floor as the man took a few tentative paces inside, debris crackling as it was crushed under heel. Though the grand revealing of his shape would be delayed a moment as he paused, lingering in the short hallway leading to the bar to study the wrought iron bars which bolstered the defenses of the charming little sanctuary. With an amused scoff he stepped into the open, weathered brow arching skyward as eyes rolled from one darkly lit corner to the next, examining the room from behind the fallen wisps of graying hair which tumbled down onto his features.
Finally, parched lips would twist into a wry grin as the man threw his arms into the air. "So! Who wants to buy me a drink?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Tovarisch Khrushchev on Aug 31, 2007 12:25:06 GMT -5
Tovarisch coughed and hacked as he stood up from the cage, surrounded by mysterious limbs that seemed to have dropped off their original owner. His upper right leg cramped up, and he looked down through his pants to see a series of bruises, seemingly from injections. His pack had holes through which needles had poked through, and from these clues he could come to only one conclusion.
"I fucked up..."
He yawned, squeezing his way through two bent bars of the cage, and stopped abruptly at the sight of his brother, a gun in one hand and a syringe in the other.
"Ivan!" Tovarisch exclaimed. "Good to see yo-"
"YOU STUPID PRICK!" Ivan shouted, throwing the gun at Tovarisch.
The butt of the gun slammed Tovarisch's forehead, sending him stumbling back.
"Ow! What was that for!?" Tovarisch shouted, rubbing the bruise.
"Five months of treatment and I let you out of the hospital for a week to visit your friends, and you go turning yourself in to a super zombie! You had twelve various limbs for Lenin's sake! Its a miracle you're back the way you are. Do you have any idea how many tests I'm going to have to run on you to make sure there are no permanent side effects!? All the trouble you put me through..."
As Ivan rambled on, Tovarisch crawled behind the bar and down in to the cellar, fumbling through piles of old newspaper until he found his emergency stash of home-brewed mead that he had hidden away the first day he came to the Elbow Room.
"I'm going to need this..."
|
|
|
|
Post by Vito The Don on Aug 31, 2007 17:11:56 GMT -5
Vito looks around and sighs. "So everythings more or less back to normal?" he dejectedly walks over to the bar. "I'm gonna need alot of booze after tha. Commanding an undead army isn't all its cracked up to be."
|
|
|
|
Post by Sarpek on Sept 2, 2007 9:44:26 GMT -5
Sarpek begins distributing drinks to everybody but Vito, whom he hands a bill for damages to the bar, with a total of 200 shotgun shells, 500 pistol clips, 50 pistols, 100 shotguns, 45 necrotech syringes, 150 first-aid kits,10 generators, 5 toolboxes, 50 fuel cans, 20 radio transmitters, and 40 portable radios.
|
|
|
|
Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Sept 3, 2007 9:20:18 GMT -5
The DJ returns, and seeing the super zombies he accidentally created are gone, but the place is wrecked...
"Everyone...um...let's see how to phrase this...um...can you all move to the factory across the street? Apparently Mel's got cameras in this place and saw I lured those zeds here...and now she's so pissed she's forcing me to rebuild this place...So...yea...you all have 1 hour before the construction crew I just called blows this place to crisp..."
A rumbling comes from the west side of the building and the walls collapse, taking down half the building.
"Oh shit....they arrived a lot sooner then I expected..."
|
|
|
|
Post by Sarpek on Sept 3, 2007 10:01:13 GMT -5
"Nah!" Sarpek growls in DJ's face.
|
|
|
|
Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Sept 3, 2007 10:24:51 GMT -5
"Gah! I thought I revived you!"
The DJ smacks himself in the face.
Damn, I'm an idiot...scan first...then attempt to revive...
The DJ goes over to those NecroTech cases.
"These freakin' syringes caused all this...now I'm gonna do something about it..."
The DJ grabs the cases and runs out of the bar...and out of the suburb. A few hours have past. When finally, the DJ returns, but not with a smile on his face.
"Damn border patrol...stopped me and took the cases...don't they know what's in those cases?"
Some screams can be heard far away. And some gunshots. And plenty of explosions.
"Well...there goes the outside...Now Sarpek..."
The DJ grabs a steel chain.
"Hold still now...a NecroTech facility is what you need now..."
The DJ ties the steel chain around Sarpek.
"Now...you're not hurting anyone until we get you revived..."
And with that, the DJ drags Sarpek to the nearest NecroTech.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sarpek on Sept 3, 2007 19:20:17 GMT -5
"GAAAAH! NAH! NAH!" Sarpek is dragged off screaming, and against his will.
|
|
|
|
Post by Tovarisch Khrushchev on Sept 3, 2007 19:34:18 GMT -5
"Tovarisch!" Ivan shouted, grabbing his pack. "Get up here you drunken fool!"
Tovarisch poked his head over the top of the bar. "What do you want Ivan?"
"DJ has hired a construction crew to level this place, we've got to get the hell out of here!" Ivan barked.
"Fine fine fine." Tovarisch moaned.
Ivan grabbed his brother by the collar, pulled him over the bar, and dragged him out the door.
|
|
|
|
Post by Magatsu Taito on Sept 4, 2007 7:55:59 GMT -5
Magatsu stagers up from the stol he is currently occupying. The redish leather seems to be so old that it does no longer go back to being the slightly domed, but instead leaves a perfect inprint of his ass staring back at him. He contemplates this for a while, picks the stool up above his head, and throws it towards the recently exploded wall.
He then picks up his belongings, jump over the bar, jump back from behind the bar holding a bottle of something clear and obvisously illegal in at least 45 states, and runs after Ivan and Tova out into the street. He stops slightly for a moment to shout at the new guy:
"Run! You can have a drink afterwards, it's not worth dying for!"
|
|
|
|
Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Sept 4, 2007 14:30:51 GMT -5
The DJ returns, and sees Ivan, Tova, and Magatsu running to the factory. He receives a text from his friend in Roftwood, Canuhearmenow.
"The deader you bought in for revification is as good as new."
The DJ runs after Ivan and the others and enters the factory after them.
"Well...I got a text from a good friend of mine in Roftwood. Sarpek is completely revived. Now about the rebuilding of that bar...any suggestions? Or should we build it so that it looks the same as before? And say...where's ValJohn and that new guy?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Vito The Don on Sept 9, 2007 12:29:43 GMT -5
Vito stands up from the wreckage of the bar and turns to DJ. "I go into the basement for one hour to kill the crocs, AND YOU LEVEL THE GODAMMED BAR?" He fumbles around with a small book in his pocket and mutters several latinish words. Suddenly the bar spawns form the earth, to be a haven for the drunk once more. "Thats the only time I'm gonna do that, kill the bar again, and I'm moving to Ridelybank.
|
|
|
|
Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Sept 9, 2007 18:29:10 GMT -5
"Damn...if you were gonna level the bar, I wouldn't have told the construction crew to put in all those time bombs..."
5 seconds later, the bar explodes.
"Um...if you want Ridleybank, it's 7 blocks to the north."
|
|
|
|
Post by Sarpek on Sept 9, 2007 20:12:51 GMT -5
Sarpek walks in, and promptly jumps off the roof after reading some books. Shambling into the foundations of the bar, he glares at the DJ. "Yah Zmaz mah Bah!" he glares and bares his teeth.
|
|
