Cry havoc
Characters: Eyepatch/Badou (smokesordie) & Zombie/Haine (fewterer)
Date/Time: October 2nd//Evening-ish
Location: Around Section 1
Rating: R for language and blood
Summary: After this entry, Eyepatch goes on a Zombie hunt. That summary is incredibly misleading.
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Abandoning his journal, Eyepatch stormed through the Access Point, biting hard on cigarette (already, so many hastily crumpled packs littered the many inner pockets of his jacket from a carton he'd purchased that morning). He entered the elevator for the umpteenth time, pressing his scarred palm to his forehead. Fuck.
Zombie could be anywhere. Eyepatch hadn't asked anyone to help him, and even if someone offered, he would've dismissed it.
Not that he was going for an inconspicuous approach (any 'down-low' had been pretty much shit on by the stir that entry caused, and Eyepatch didn't really wanna think what that meant for the future). He was just doing what he had to.
"Fucking Christ." He may have considered it a stroke of luck that he spotted Zombie's ass (who was looking more undead than usual) outside Section One if he produce a coherent thought. Tossing his burnt out cigarette aside, he hurried over, nudging Zombie's shoulder with his foot before crouching. A sense of urgency outweighed any fear that he probably should've felt. "Up, asshole." Reaching over, he took Zombie's arm to prop against his own shoulders.
Date/Time: October 2nd//Evening-ish
Location: Around Section 1
Rating: R for language and blood
Summary: After this entry, Eyepatch goes on a Zombie hunt. That summary is incredibly misleading.
------
Abandoning his journal, Eyepatch stormed through the Access Point, biting hard on cigarette (already, so many hastily crumpled packs littered the many inner pockets of his jacket from a carton he'd purchased that morning). He entered the elevator for the umpteenth time, pressing his scarred palm to his forehead. Fuck.
Zombie could be anywhere. Eyepatch hadn't asked anyone to help him, and even if someone offered, he would've dismissed it.
Not that he was going for an inconspicuous approach (any 'down-low' had been pretty much shit on by the stir that entry caused, and Eyepatch didn't really wanna think what that meant for the future). He was just doing what he had to.
"Fucking Christ." He may have considered it a stroke of luck that he spotted Zombie's ass (who was looking more undead than usual) outside Section One if he produce a coherent thought. Tossing his burnt out cigarette aside, he hurried over, nudging Zombie's shoulder with his foot before crouching. A sense of urgency outweighed any fear that he probably should've felt. "Up, asshole." Reaching over, he took Zombie's arm to prop against his own shoulders.