[open] screaming, shouting, wham-slam-bam

[policebrand]

Who: Francis York Morgan and ALL OF YOU (I mean...if you want. Don't want to be too pushy, right Zach?)
What: Trying to stay alive, killing zombies- that sort of thing.
Where: All around Nautilus
When: Backdated to Wednesday
Warnings: Possible gore?
Notes: I'm cool with either action or prose tags.

Comments

/makes this interesting?

[keepastrnghrt]

Following his ears would likely lead him to a boy trying to outrun a massively obese zombie with a huge mouth. It was spitting, or more like vomiting, a grimy liquid all over the place. So far it seems the boy has managed to not end up with this stuff on him, and good thing, as it seems to be melting the street where it lands. And, of course, this stuff seems like honey to flies, as more of the lumbering beasts are coming to check out the scene. These the boy is at least attempting to bash with a crowbar before they can grab him.

yeeeahhhh :D

[policebrand]

Yet another group to 'meet and greet' with. Looks like he got there just in time to stop that large one from tearing up that kid. With more coming their way, York had little time to conjure up a plan to get rid of all of them. The acid vomit sure didn't make the situation any more easier.

He hoped to Zach that this steel pipe was blunt enough to get the job done.

York took a swing at the large zombie's head but it wasn't enough to bring it down completely.

[keepastrnghrt]

Mitham had no idea who this guy was, but he sure as hell wasn't going to turn away any help. With someone else to help he took a moment to split the heads of a few of the slower zombies, before moving in to try to help this stranger take out the big one.

It stumbled from the blows, shaking its head and making retching sounds before spewing more acid.

[policebrand]

He backed away just enough to avoid any large splatters of the acid vomit from touching his body. York barely made it by with only a few droplets touching his pants, leaving small holes on the cloth. He had to keep himself alert from actually stepping on the stuff or that would be end of his shoes or his feet for that matter. Last thing York wanted to do was relive the 'John McClane' experience.

The portly zombie advanced towards York, trying to grab him by the shoulders. Before it got any closer, York made one hard swing at its head, causing it to collapse on the ground.

He turned his attention towards the boy. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Yay for a mix between a Boomer and a Spitter? =D;;

[keepastrnghrt]

He'll get the question out, but see, there one little problem with this kind of zombie. It's a Nautilus Special that not only spits acid but explodes once dead coating things around it with acid. Best get away before it does this or both will have acid splashed over them and likely end up stunned on the ground for a bit, and that would be bad with all the other lumbering things drawn by the acid.

"Fine, but we shouldn't stay here." He glances around at the approaching zombies.

all for it! btw sorry this took a while

[policebrand]

The boy was right. Any more time spent on small talk would only 'up' their chances on being surrounded by another group of those zombies.

He nodded. "You're right. Now's not the time for small talk."

Obviously they needed to escape but York's aim was to have as little confrontation as possible. It wasn't necessary to put the boy at risk to injury or in the worst case scenario: death. A room, alleyway, anywhere that had no undead occupants is where they needed to go.

"Let's get go then. Try to keep up" he said as he began to talk in a slightly fast pace.

*waves hand* No worries. =D

[keepastrnghrt]

Mitham easily turned to leave with the stranger. No more than three or four steps away, though, and the beast behind them exploded coating the ground with acid. A thankfully small droplet landed on Mitham's cheek and arm when he turned to see what happened. With a growl he was trying to wipe it from his skin, fumbling with a canteen to add water to the mix. He tried to keep walking, but the momentary distraction slowed him down.

"Shit! Shit, ow! Owowowow!" The water does seem to be helping, and it was little enough, and off quickly enough that it did very minor damage. "Okay, I officially hate this storm now." Not that he didn't before, but with each new experience that loathing was growing deeper and deeper.