[[ooc: so. I wanna jump on this, naturally, but I'm not sure how you wanna roll.. wanna do something early!2014? Like, maybe around the time the outbreak gets back (2012) or sooner after Sam says yes (2009/2010ish?]]
[ooc: Totally responding to this from work or I would tag it first. Early!2014 sounds amazing- right after Sam said yes would be great, if you wanna! Whichever you prefer.]
[[ooc: That works! Sorry it took so long, last weekend was con weekend and my friends came over before I had a chance to tag, and then when I got a chance I couldn't concentrate because I fail at writing anything when other people are around :| My brain is running on nowhere near enough sleep so ugh forgive me my typos as I forgive those who have typo'd against me...]]
[It figures that Castiel's reaction to a situation like this is to pray, regardless of the fact that he knows, probably better than any other creature left on earth, how utterly pointless it is. The angels are gone, they've finally made good on that last threat to abandon this place to the devil, and this has left Castiel in a position he's never been in before: utterly alone inside this vessel in ways he hadn't thought possible. His grace- the tiny fragment that's left, anyway- is nothing but an echo and twice as useless as one, Jimmy's soul seems to have departed with his brothers and sisters, and there's absolutely nothing left inside Castiel's head aside from
( ... )
1. ZOMBIES (oh snap, just like the terrible comic series)steverogersMay 31 2012, 12:12:03 UTC
The shield went flying right through the guy's body. Right. Through. It. When it pinballed off the wall behind the now two-pieced man, Steve was slow to realize and barely caught it.
What the hell? The man had been alive. Steve just killed him. But he hadn't had a choice. No, he thought, my shield hadn't been thrown that hard. He wasn't sure what to do. He panicked.
And then he heard a guttural moan from somewhere behind him. Turning around, his gaze was met with an entire troop of the same violent droning that he'd witnessed in the man who lay dead on the ground. He was going to give these people a warning too-- even if a few of them definitely had blood smeared on the sides of their mouths.
Every good apocalypse has zombiesnottheworsthingMay 31 2012, 15:02:20 UTC
On low power the repulsors had just about enough kick to knock someone off their feet. Not enough to do any real damage. Definitely not enough to cause someone to disintegrate from the waist down. And yet that was what had just happened.
There was very little blood. It was an odd thing to notice, under the circumstances, but it did register. However what really got his attention was the way that the mangled remains of the top half were still trying to crawl toward him.
"That's new," he muttered, and keyed the radio. "Uh, Cap, I think we have a bit of a situation...?"
"Agreed!" he managed to reply, while shielding himself against a very large attacker. He shoved off his assailant and managed to roll back enough so he had more space to plan his next attack. "Stark, where are you? What's your status?"
One of the things suddenly lunged towards him and he let out a cry as he smashed its head in with his shield. The others watched with hungry eyes.
1? because Zombies are always fun. xDpropergeniusMay 31 2012, 17:52:08 UTC
[ 221B Bakerstreet might not have been the safest place in all of London, but for the moment, it seemed to be zombie-free. Of course, it was practically a disaster area all in itself. The furniture had been ripped up - the sofa had barely survived - papers were strewn everywhere, Sherlock didn't even want to look at the state of broken glass that littered the floor, recognizable as his lab equipment. The days of conducting experiments and keeping body parts in the fridge were long gone. Hell, they could find body parts strewn across the streets of London, and though he did have the desire to capture a zombie and study it, he did not. They had been on the move, fighting, surviving, searching for survivors, and although the invasion was far from over, and zombies still littered the world... it was good to be home. ]
We should close up the windows and barricade the door before nightfall.
[ But Sherlock simply stood there for a moment, exhausted, his clothing torn and hair a mess. He didn't want to think about how Mrs. Hudson was no
( ... )
Yes to them being in a relationship and i ship these two so damn hard, it's rediculous~doctorandbloggrMay 31 2012, 19:06:14 UTC
He still wasn't mentally over the war sherlock had helped him conquere the first time. And now john was shaking like a leaf, mumbling something like 'i could have saved her'. It was only twelve hours ago and mrs. Hudson turning was the most traumatic experience he has ever undergone. He remembered it well- it was first thing in the morning and john had woken up screaming for sherlock when he couldn't understand why this was happening. Mrs. Hudson was the most adorable frail elder woman he ever came to love and now she was all but gone from their lives.
John doesn't even register what the other suggests because he's too lost in his own mind thinking on the what- if's and should- have- been's. In a choked whisper, watson lets out, "sherlock."
Oh good, we'll get along fine then. xD Sorry for the angsty line >.>propergeniusMay 31 2012, 19:28:35 UTC
Mrs. Hudson might as well have been like a mother to Sherlock. His real mother had never really showed all that much affection to him - it wasn't something the Holmes family did. There were very few people he opened touched, or kissed - John was one now, of course, but for a while, before him, it had been Mrs. Hudson. He was not one for sentiment, but she had been like family, closer to him than his brother - not that that was saying much, of course. That morning, waking up to know he had failed Mrs. Hudson, was something he was still trying to delete. It didn't help when John acted this way, but he couldn't be blamed.
Sherlock slipped his hand into John's and squeezed, because it was comforting to know that he was still there, alive, and with him. The day he lost John Watson was the day nothing truly mattered to him anymore. "I know," he whispered, cool eyes straight ahead.
[With nothing viable to fight, the team is on Relief And Rescue. While the world around them crumbles in on itself - Tony had only moments ago seen his Malibu house on the news, collapsing into the ocean - time is limited. Now he also has to watch Stark Tower give out, but at least he has time to pull a girl who looks a little familiar out of harm's way before his former balcony flattens her.]
[It's ridiculous how fast your body can freeze when staring death in the face. With no option of escaping the balcony completely Darcy had ran, hoping to get the least of the crushing weight, but it just kept getting closer and she couldn't help but freeze and cover her head, cursing out the entire city-so the sudden feel of a metal arm wrapping around her waist and being pulled out of harms way comes as a bit of a shock.]
Comments 362
Reply
Reply
Reply
[It figures that Castiel's reaction to a situation like this is to pray, regardless of the fact that he knows, probably better than any other creature left on earth, how utterly pointless it is. The angels are gone, they've finally made good on that last threat to abandon this place to the devil, and this has left Castiel in a position he's never been in before: utterly alone inside this vessel in ways he hadn't thought possible. His grace- the tiny fragment that's left, anyway- is nothing but an echo and twice as useless as one, Jimmy's soul seems to have departed with his brothers and sisters, and there's absolutely nothing left inside Castiel's head aside from ( ... )
Reply
Reply
What the hell? The man had been alive. Steve just killed him. But he hadn't had a choice. No, he thought, my shield hadn't been thrown that hard. He wasn't sure what to do. He panicked.
And then he heard a guttural moan from somewhere behind him. Turning around, his gaze was met with an entire troop of the same violent droning that he'd witnessed in the man who lay dead on the ground. He was going to give these people a warning too-- even if a few of them definitely had blood smeared on the sides of their mouths.
Reply
There was very little blood. It was an odd thing to notice, under the circumstances, but it did register. However what really got his attention was the way that the mangled remains of the top half were still trying to crawl toward him.
"That's new," he muttered, and keyed the radio. "Uh, Cap, I think we have a bit of a situation...?"
Reply
One of the things suddenly lunged towards him and he let out a cry as he smashed its head in with his shield. The others watched with hungry eyes.
Reply
Reply
We should close up the windows and barricade the door before nightfall.
[ But Sherlock simply stood there for a moment, exhausted, his clothing torn and hair a mess. He didn't want to think about how Mrs. Hudson was no ( ... )
Reply
John doesn't even register what the other suggests because he's too lost in his own mind thinking on the what- if's and should- have- been's. In a choked whisper, watson lets out, "sherlock."
Reply
Sherlock slipped his hand into John's and squeezed, because it was comforting to know that he was still there, alive, and with him. The day he lost John Watson was the day nothing truly mattered to him anymore. "I know," he whispered, cool eyes straight ahead.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment