Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Oct 10, 2012 19:03:54 GMT -8
We'll put in more description of this place when we get to it.
The basics as I recall - it's a two lane road, but has wide shoulders for transit or bike users, so it's a pretty broad street without being highway-ish. The blocks are short and about every third intersection has lights, obviously inoperable in the apocalypse.
At one end of this stretch of Westlake is the Denny intersection, jammed utterly with cars. On the other end if Mercer, which is a way to get to the highways, plus the site of a major construction project. It is also jammed full of cars.
In the middle, the cars are a bit more sparse, but still left here and there on the road or sidewalk at random. There a few dozen bodies and various body parts scattered here and there as well, being picked at by pigeons, crows, and seagulls. And, of course, there's some zombies.
The zombies mostly stick to the Denny side or the Mercer side, only drawn onto the local piece of Westlake by activity.
Post by Thy Dungyeon Maestyr on Oct 19, 2012 15:51:00 GMT -8
Derek, Kenny, and Micah clambered out of the alley over the hoods and roofs of the car-side barricade, and its new fence. They hit the street, already having to engage in violence.Derek used an aluminum bat to murder the nearest zombies. They looked to Micah like they used to be software types, and therefore the scene was a bit reminiscent of jocks pounding nerds in high school - only this time to death.Kenny helped him, using a table-leg club. It made Micah's streetside landing the safest of the three.
Derek- "Stop trying to eat me, you dead dumbfucks!"
Kenny- "Don't take it personally dude. Let's get a move on!"
The guys started jogging, staying close to buildings to reduce visibility, and quickly killing anything that got between them and the Serious Pie...
The street was littered with items left forgotten in the panic of two nights ago, it was hard to believe it had really only been that long. It wasn't looking very fucking hopeful for the human race at this point. Torn advertisements on walls mocked the scene bellow with their cheesy smiles and now meaningless messages. The zombies were a parody of their former humanity, still clinging to vestiges of their past lives.
Micah was starting to wish he'd been born fifty or so years earlier. If that kid really started this then that made him a worse shitbag than Hitler. Micah seemed to be the only one who doubted that the kid did it though, he said he did but that didn't make it so.
His fellow food hunters were okay, Derek was clearly a self-involved dick but every group had at least one. He jogged after the others attempting to keep them between him and the zombies. One thing he could say, they both handled the zombies well. Derek, a little too much. He reminded Micah of the bullies he'd known at high school.
One zombie, a middle aged man with a shard of glass poking through his business shirt and shattered glasses still hanging off his nose took a lazy swipe at the man. Derek responded by beating the zombie to a bloody pulp, yelling profanities at the zombie's nerve. Fair enough, clearly Derek's IQ level was about the same level. Someone's mommy and daddy didn't pay him enough attention as a child.
Micah relaxed slightly as they got closer to the targeted corner. He was hoping for some red wine or vodka but raiders couldn't be choosers.
Last Edit: Oct 19, 2012 17:54:52 GMT -8 by ∆§Indea§∆
Inside was nearly pitch black, only the faintest light coming from the shaded windows on the front side, the back of the restaurant obviously windowless.
Kenny- "Shit...." he fumbled around through his pockets, "Didn't bring a flashlight..."
Derek- "Pft, that's because I am the brains of this fuckin' operation. Pre-law?"
He waved a flashlight around.
Kenny- "It was the middle of the day! Whatever..."
In from of them was a small stand with a sign that read "Serious biscuit" and it had a menu written in chalk. Wood-fired eggs, fancy toppings like artisan truffle cheese and local cherry tomatoes... The room smelled a bit of spoiled eggs.
To their right, they saw their mecca-- "SOUL WINE". A fully stocked bar, and row upon row of fine wines.
Kenny- "Goddamn! We gotta get a cart and clean this place out! Booze forever!"
Derek- "Chill out, we gotta make sure there's nothing in here, idiot."
Wooden stairs lead up, they walked carefully, Derek leading with the flashlight, but the room otherwise pitch dark. They came upon the railing, and entered a lounge with a low ceiling, and dark rustic wood paneling. A sign detailed Wednesday's pizza of the day featuring house pancetta and Greek olives. They crept around the long wooden tables and benches, shining the beam around and trying to listen over the creak of their feet on the floor.
Something shrieked, and Derek practically dropped the flashlight. Kenny wrested it from his hands and shined it around wildly, until they saw the movement on the floor. Derek had his foot on a pale white hand, that was attached to a thrashing figure. A ghastly white woman was somehow wedged under the wooden bench, dark purple bruising covering her arms and her pale hair matted with blood. She lashed her arms out at Derek until he hopped away, and then she slumped to the floor, almost as though she'd just wanted to be left in peace. She was silent.
Kenny- "Fuckin' a man!"
He shined the flashlight in her eyes, and stood above her, careful to not be quite within arm's reach.
Kenny- "You're a zombie, right toots?"
The woman stared blankly into the flashlight and as she lifted her head, a black string of blood oozed from her pale lips. She seemed to make no special reaction to his words other than a vague shuddering.
"Seriously mate, that zombie has reached a whole new level of fucking dead! Let's get on with it!"
Micah was beginning to pity the damn things. He had been landed with fucking Beavis and Butthead. Kenny was now attempting to ride a statue of pink pig. The paint was chipped and the pig had an odd look on his face. The smile was almost ironic, as if it had predicted the current state of things all along. Kenny ended up slipping awkwardly off but landed on his feet.
"Why do you guys call pizza a 'pie'? Makes no fucking sense. Does this place even sell actual meat pies?"
Kenny- "I don't know about the pie thing either, but it has somethin' to do with gettin' hit in the face with a moon. Or amore or somethin'."
When they finally made it into the place and locked the door, it was pitch black. Derek must of been granted a couple of brain cells as he'd brought a torch. Micah wished he'd thought that far ahead. Pre-law? Micah was shocked.
"I didn't know it took a pre-law degree to remember to bring a torch." He grinned.
Derek- "Evidently not having one helps you forget it."
A small stand read ' serious biscuit' but it didn't sound like actual biscuits. Didn't they call them cookies in America? The eggy smell of the place made him feel slightly ill. It looked like one of those places that claimed gourmet, but only delivered pathetically small serves of the actual gourmet bits of the meal.
"Wow. How serious is their biscuit? Let's hope it's pretty fucking serious."
Kenny- "Haha. You're a funny dude, like that Bryce."
Micah grinned when he spotted the wine bar, jackpot! Now it was matter of getting it all back to 403. He moved with the other two upstairs, into the dark and dingy part of the restaurant. Micah had the creeps, this felt exactly like walking into a trap. His heart began beating a little faster as they made their way in. He began imagining countless zombie filled encounters, taking his heart along for the ride. The sound of their feet on the floorboards didn't help, it was beginning to feel like some corny 80's horror film. Any minute now...
Micah yelped and almost fell backwards into a nearby table. Derek was standing on the hand of a pale woman, trapped by a fallen table. There was no chance she was among the living, blood drenched her blonde hair and bruises like grotesque sleeves marked her arms. Her pale face and eyes seemed almost luminescent in the harsh glare of Kenny's torch. Micah wondered what went on inside a zombie's head, where there any thoughts or just raw emotions or nerves like a cockroach.
"Toots? You must be a whizz with the ladies Kenny. Should we put her out of her misery? Who wants to be a fucking zombie?"
The shuddering was freaking Micah out, oh god he hoped she was just a fucking zombie.
Post by Thy Dungyeon Maestyr on Oct 20, 2012 0:27:02 GMT -8
Kenny- "Hell, man, I just wanted to be sure." He looked back at Derek. "You got this man?"
Derek had a weird little shudder, then advanced with long strides.
Derek- "Outta the way, wuss!" He bashed the zombie sickeningly.
Kenny walked over to Micah, obscuring the Aussie's view of the brutality.
Kenny- "Hey, so... I didn't know about the wine. That's a hot score, huh? I wonder if we can find a motorized palette jack and move a bunch at once... Or back a car up to the front..."
INDEA, Write whatever you'd like about how they go about doing this, put words in anyone's mouth if you feel you need to or just leave a space for an edited response (which you can then edit a re-response into), whatever etc. Describe the whole venture as much or as little as you'd like, I'll fill in the blanks, and then onward!
Micah was grateful when his view of the carnage was obscured.
"Ugh, your friend is a fucking psychopath, remind me not to get pre-sued. Considering Derek is only pre-law, I think a car might be a safer option. Can either of you hotwire a car though?"
"Haha pre-sued, funny. No problem dude. You guys just get the booze and shit ready!"
Kenny handed the torch over to Micah, before heading back down the stairs and back outside to 'acquire' a vehicle. Which left him alone in the dark with Derek, fantastic. Micah wondered how the guy dealt with spiders. There didn't seem to be any sign of more undead, surely the noise would have alerted them if there were.
"So ah Derek, are you finished venting your anger at your fucking mother, or should I go check out the foodstuffs on my own?"
“Fuck that. I don't think your qualified to make that statement jackass. Let's get it over with. I don't trust you, I know where you come from.”
Micah shrugged, there was no point trying to talk fucking sense to the man. They made their way past the near decapitated corpse, and towards the back of the restaurant and the kitchen. The smell of rotted eggs grew stronger as they got closer, Micah wished he had a hand free to cover his nose and mouth up.He tried not to let his hand shake, he didn't want to show his cowardice in front of this paranoid freak. The shadows cast by the torch almost made Micah jump a couple of times, and he hoped the bigger man wouldn't notice.
The kitchen was set up like your average Italian restaurant, the benches were a kind of grey granite texture on top of the stainless steel. When Micah lifted the torch up, it revealed a kind of mosaic covering the front of the steel-box fans. The mosaic was made up of little tiles of green and yellow forming a diamond pattern across the middle. In the centre of the room were a series of ovens, all with pots still resting on the top, in all different states of the cooking process. A large Pizza oven sat in the middle behind that. Micah and Derek made their way to the back of the kitchen. It was all going relatively smoothly until Micah stepped on something soft and squishy.
Micah squawked at it, only to find he had stood on a small rat that scurried quickly away hissing.
When the reached the larder, the door was still closed but thankfully unlocked. Micah had thought it would be their best bet, he had no idea what Chantelle wanted, but cold and cured meats would last longer. Inside were a few shelves of food like pickles, fetta, canned pineapple, nuts and olives. A few large hunks of cured meat hung in a corner, with a large ham wrapped in a cloth sack. Bags of flour were stacked up along the other side.
“How much can you carry? I think we should take some of those foods like the olives from the shelves, the cured meat and ham, along with a bag of flour.”
(I'm going to guess aprox 20kg (44pds) which is the amount they can do at airports with a bit of effort. Derek would be a reasonably buff guy and would probably lift more than he should anyways.)
“I am not just the brains of this operation, I'm also the fuckin' brawn. I'll take whatever you can't handle.”
“No worries. I'll grab some of the jars and shit, if you take the ham and a few bags of flour.”
Micah found an empty old potato sack and began filling it with the meat, jars and cans of food, anything long-lasting in particular went into the sack. When it was beginning to get heavy, Micah stopped and tied the top of the sack as much as he could.(Micah is carrying about 12kg of stuff)
He hefted it into his arms puffing, and held awkwardly on to the torch and knife underneath. The trip back though the kitchen was uneventful, apart from the occasional expletive when Micah hit himself against a dozen benches. Derek had little problem carrying his load, or at least he wasn't showing it.
When they arrived at the front of the restaurant, Kenny with a once white four-wheel subaru waited patiently out front, the engine running. A few zombies were banging uselessly on the sides, but apart from that it seemed to have attracted little attention. A few zombies had obviously fallen pray to it's wheels, and stream of body parts and innards littered the road behind it. Derek put his load down, and began helping Kenny with bashing the zombies over the head. Splashes of red soon littered the vehicle and the men. Micah thought he saw Derek begin to shake once, but it might have been his imagination.
He realised too late that he probably should have given them a hand. They loaded the vehicle with the food and proceeded then to 'Soul wines' to pick up the booze.
“If there is any champagne, we should save it for Nat. It's his fucking birthday today after all.”
“Good thinking man. You mean the blonde kid right?”
They loaded up the back of the car with as much booze as was physically possible. Derek kept watch over the car, violently bashing any zombie that dared to get too close. One overweight teenager with a missing eye seemed to cop a particular bout of rage when it almost knocked his cap off.
“You FUCKIN' little fuckin' punk. Do you know what this cap is worth, don't you DUMBFUCK??”
Once they had accomplished that, they went up and got a few more bags of flour and cans before heading back towards the 403 building. The afternoon was setting in, and Micah's stomach grumbled slightly at him as they hopped inside the packed vehicle. Derek of course had called shotgun, and Micah was left squished in the back seat, next to the bottles of wine and flour bags. The ride back was quick, and they were soon unloading the vehicle, and passing bottles and bags of flour over the fence and stack of cars, to those waiting behind it.
Last Edit: Oct 21, 2012 0:55:29 GMT -8 by ∆§Indea§∆
Post by Thy Dungyeon Maestyr on Oct 20, 2012 23:51:12 GMT -8
Kenny- "Later bro!"
Kenny took off like a shot. Micah wasn't able to get toward the back door, obliged by the awkward jam to stay put with Derek in the car. They looked out at the zombies in disgust. They couldn't open the hatch safely just yet.
The bastards cracked the window on Derek's side a bit, but didn't seem able to do much more just yet. Suddenly, they seemed distracted!
In a process that took about twenty nerve-wracking minutes and a lot of cussing, the men got the car unloaded into the alley. Once in the alley, it was safe from zombies because the work on securing the alley was complete by this time.
The exhausted troops rallied some help carrying stuff to the 6th floor. (Throw any more details on this you want, then await the evening's festivities!)
Micah couldn't have been a hero even if he wanted to, the door seemed to be jammed shut and was refusing to open. Kenny shot out of the car without another word. It took the zombies a few minutes to react, for a agonising minute it seemed like their were going to stay focused on the car. Micah hoped the guy didn't fall off and really create a disctraction for the zombies. Were the zombies even hungry for human flesh? Now that he thought about it, their were violent but none had actually tried to eat anyone's brains or flesh.
A worrying crack was being created on Derek's window and Micah was freaking out slightly. The zombie's nose was pressed against the glass like a kid at a milk bar and it banged at the window with what looked to be an beaten up orange umbrella. Another was staring at Micah through the window like one would look at a stuffed turkey at christmas.
Suddenly they took off, leaving him and Derek safe again in the car. Micah clambered carefully over the food to the boot and waited impatiently for Derek to open up.
Once freed from the subaru, Micah grabbed the potato sack of food as well as a bottle of wine. He headed through the car maze, swearing at the difficulty created by his load. It took them a full twenty minutes to get everything into the comm centre. Some of the others thankfully gave them hand and soon Micah was slumped in a chair, drinking a grateful glass of juice and biting into a salmon cream cracker. He had been practically useless on the journey, but none of the others had to know. Derek had given him a couple of dirty looks but hadn't said anything. Kenny hadn't become zombie food and joined them in the comm centre a few minutes later.
Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 4, 2012 10:57:06 GMT -8
The group ran along the sidewalks, avoiding crowds of zombies when possible. They came upon a pile of rotting corpses along the way, gathering a large swarm of insects. Seth pulled his scarf over his face, and they continued.
Seth- "Ugh... I should go out here and burn these sometime."
Doesn't matter much to me, as long as it's skeletons.
Angels Weep, There Shall Never be Another to Surpass the Incredible Coolness of This Guy, this Guy is the Last, the Potato to End All Skeletons
Gender: Male Skeleton Pronouns: Himskeleton/heskeleton
Ashley is not close enough to comment, but seemed to think this was a waste of time. That /was/ disgusting though. He suddenly reflected that maybe suits weren't the best things he could wear here. But what choice did he have anyways? Maybe the store had t-shirts he could steal. You never know. He wondered, and hoped, if Mr. Friskers was ok, and then had a stab of guilt when he realized he should probably call his parents...well, that's impossible, but he should try to find them, make sure they're safe.
He kept low, and had an eye on the surroundings in the meantime. They can sometimes come fast, so he had to be fast himself. Keeping both close and evenly spaced with Patti and Tyrone was hard work, but he looked over now and again to make sure they hadn't strayed and he had not moved too far away.
Micah followed close by to Alex, his heart keeping pace with his legs. The smell was the worst thing that had ever invaded his nostrils. The three days had given time for things to really start to decay, the smell caused all his senses to scream out. He didn't bother putting anything over his mouth or nose, nothing was going to shut that overload out. He'd smelt this aroma all over on a road trip to Alice Springs, but nothing this heavy ...or human.
"Because burning rotted corpses is such a pleasant bloody smell..."