Momo was already on her feet, eyes narrowed and shimmering slightly as she looked at their spirit threads. At least she tried to. No souls - tey had no souls.
"I hope you this answers the question you had earlier about the state of the townspeople," Momo replied, wiping away the small bit of blood that had begun to drip from her own nose. "They lack souls as well."
Despite being trapped in a building with zombie-like creatures, Momo was surprisingly calm. This was unexpected and she was unarmed, but she was far from helpless. She was shinigami. Turning to Peter, she put a hand on his arm and forced him to meet her eyes.
"We need to get out. There is no tactical advantage in staying inside." Not with them. "Let's move!" With that, the shinigami delivered a kick at the closest bookshelf with a strength her tiny frame should not possess.
Peter was surprisingly spry for a human, but Momo wasn't about to question it. Not at the moment, at least.
Turning to face the window, she shifted her stance. It was plenty big enough for both her and Peter to get through. There were benefits to being small.
"Three!"
The shinigami stayed low to the ground as she struck the window.
Hanatarou's startled cry was cut off abruptly when he struck one of the shelves, then slid down onto the floor amidst a minor avalance of books. He somewhat belatedly lifted his arms to protect his head and blinked around at the store, attempting to regain his bearings.
This was all wrong, even more so than nights usually were in this place. They should've been back in the building, he should've had dinner with Sora and then had his uniform to change into. He could've at least felt like he was prepared for the night that way, even if the false-Hisagomaru he carried was more for show than anything else, but this - whatever was going on, he didn't know, and had no idea what he was supposed to do.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming from behind him, and the shinigami froze in place for an instant, ignoring the inevitable trickle of blood that seeped from one nostril as he focused on the spirit threads around him. He could hear something there, but - no threads. Nothing
( ... )
Vampires didn’t quite get adrenaline rushes in the same biological sense that humans did, but the end effect was rather similar. It was with a mix of upset nerves and upset instincts--blood was everywhere--that Aidou ploughed back through the doorway, slammed the door behind him, and immediately began dragging over the nearest shelving unit, still mostly full of books, to barricade the entrance.
Those things were hunting like only the slow and stupid could, but there was way too many of them, and it didn’t take a proficient threat to be able to get through a door when there was enough of them around.
Or a window, but it’d take a while for them to manage that. Right?
He had more strength than someone with his figure should have seemingly possessed, and a second later, the back of the shelf clunked against the wood of the door. It reeked, and one barricade wasn’t going to do much, and ugh there was still the ones who’d been inside when the change had happened. Minus Hinamori and the boy, the two of which had… gone out a back window
( ... )
Once it seemed still for the moment, Hanatarou peeked out from behind the large hardback book he'd grabbed up as a shield of sorts against splattering goo-bits while the blond stranger dealt with the undead creatures. "Er," he began, somewhat uncertain if it was wise to even call attention to himself at this point, "Th-thank you...?"
The books he'd been throwing hadn't made any impact whatsoever (literal or figurative) on them, and it wasn't as though he was any use in combat. And the stranger had tossed him into the relative safety of the shop instead of leaving him on the street, which if nothing else was worth thanks. Even if the man was rather disturbingly good at eviscerating shambling zombies with his bare hands
( ... )
Aidou didn’t prefer relying on a personal weapon, but he also didn’t prefer relying on such base attacks if he could help it, and normally he could… in normal situations, in normal times, when he had his full range of abilities to call upon. This was just disgusting, having more congealed blood on his hands. It ranked up there with the night Akatsuki had… the night Aidou had killed his doppelganger, because he knew things were only going to get much worse. Every ounce of energy he had, he’d no doubt need.
Landel had seen to limiting his capacities like the bastard were lobotomizing an animal, but Aidou hadn’t felt the impact in quite such a way as this. And that was a mindset he couldn’t fall into, because he would not be rattled and he would not let himself think of failure
( ... )
He could see more the creatures shambling in on him from the main street.
Sanzo pushed at the front door. It gave, but stopped short against something heavy and solid. There wasn't any more time to try and force the thing. The undead were getting closer, and he needed to hurry up and make a damn decision whether to try this place further or move on.
The monk walked around to the side of the building, when his eyes caught something. One of the ground-level windows was shattered, and judging from a glance inside, it looked like someone had attempted to barricade the front door. Why the hell they didn't barricade the windows as well was beyond him. Gun out in front of him, he checked the main room, studying the corners, the counter. The last thing he wanted was to stumble upon a nest of frightened patients and get his ass shot at.
It looked clear. Carefully stepping through the broken window, Sanzo entered the bookstore. Glass crunched under his shoe soles.
With the creatures coming in from all directions, Takasugi didn't have much of a choice but to follow the monk to a less populated area. He knew he wouldn't be able to fend them all off on his own, and even if they were easy to kill, were he to be overwhelmed by their sheer numbers, he wouldn't survive
( ... )
Sanzo'd moved a little further into the room. At the sound of shifting cloth behind him, he turned. A startled look flashed across his face before he covered it up. He hadn't expected Takasugi to follow him. He'd considered the matter over and done with. The other patient turned and knocked over one of the bookshelves, blocking the window off. It was just as well. Moments later, the opening was filled with rotting bodies shuffling past. Rotted teeth and empty eye sockets were pressed against it, straining. The bookshelf didn't give
( ... )
More justifications. More pleasantries piled one on top of the other. Takasugi had had his fill of them. His wasn't an age where men could live so complacently. In his mind, that war always continued, and he could never step foot off the battlefield.
Even now, he felt those instincts seize him, baiting him to kill whatever threat was in his way. The more Sanzo tried to distance himself, the more he thought of his comrades who continued to walk down their different paths while disregarding their origin point entirely -that man whose ideals had fueled all their wills to begin with. How many more men will lie down and allow their enemies to step all over them? How many more men will sacrifice their honor and integrity for things like money?
It continued to disgust him.
"Why wait for your enemies to strike out at you when you can be rid of them before they even have a chance. The more you play the obedient dog, the more others will treat you as if you were born as one to begin with. But you weren't. You were born wild. Untamed. Have
( ... )
[From here]He wasn't sure what it was that made him head to the book store; a niggle at the back of his mind, or that part of his mind that wasn't really his perhaps, maybe just instinct. Maybe just that he book stores just made him believe that there had to be someone half buried in books in there as a matter of course
( ... )
There was a soft groan from the end of the room. A faint light came down from the stairwell, barely touching the edges of a dark heap at the bottom of the stairs. The blood rippled as something moved in the darkness.
Kenren turned quickly towards the sound, raising the crowbar defensively. That sounded far too much like the dead for his liking. He blinked at the hint of movement that he saw in the faint light, taking a wary step towards the heap. It wasn't looking like a threat just yet, but Kenren wasn't about to dismiss the possibility. He approached slowly, warily, keeping the crowbar ready at hand.
A flash of bright hair and...
"Sanzo?"
Fuck.
Without thinking, Kenren moved to his side, crouching down and grimacing at the sight of the blood which was pooled around the man's body. What the hell had happened? "Crap. We need to get you some healing right now," he murmured, more to himself than Sanzo. What the hell had the monk done?
He stepped into the building, looking around the dim interior carefully. There didn't seem to be anything waiting immediately inside, but that was no reason to throw caution to the winds. Complacency just got people injured or worse. He kicked aside some of the broken pieces of barricade and moved further into the building. The scent of blood and dead flesh hit him, but he heard no movement just yet. He turned back to the doorway where he could see Guy and Claude. "It seems safe for now," he said, although his voice was grim. "Watch out for the shrapnel."
The bookstore was only one story high, which meant they'd probably have to try climbing up from the outside in order to get on the roof. Still, Claude didn't have any objections about taking a look inside. There could have been people trapped inside -- people he knew liked to hang out in places like this, people like Leon. And, for a split moment, the prospect of going somewhere with anyone helpless and trapped got him excited. The metallic scent of blood in the air didn't help things -- if anything, it just gave him the urge to go for something a little...fresher.
The thought was both enticing and sickening, and Claude abruptly stopped after taking several steps into the room. Just what the hell was wrong with him all of a sudden? It was hard enough to think with how much his shoulder was hurting, and now this?! With the way things were going, he felt like he was practically turning into some kind of
( ... )
Guy was relieved to hear that the bookstore was apparently clear for the moment, although he didn't feel so great about it when he stepped in. The stench of rotted blood was much stronger in the enclosed space, and he was forced to put a hand to his mouth as he looked around
( ... )
Ronixis gave Claude a curious look when the young man spoke, following his gaze but not seeing very much in the faint light. He was a little too far away for the light from the headlamps to be that useful to him. He was still more preoccupied with keeping watch for anything which decided to come after them as well. He wondered if they could drag any of the bookcases or even a chair from in here to help them climb onto the roof because he wasn't certain that Claude would make it under his own power if he was already having to lean on Guy like that. But then again, if they left a chair near the wall, it would be too easy for any of the creatures to get up if they could climb. He didn't want to take that risk
( ... )
Comments 88
"I hope you this answers the question you had earlier about the state of the townspeople," Momo replied, wiping away the small bit of blood that had begun to drip from her own nose. "They lack souls as well."
Despite being trapped in a building with zombie-like creatures, Momo was surprisingly calm. This was unexpected and she was unarmed, but she was far from helpless. She was shinigami. Turning to Peter, she put a hand on his arm and forced him to meet her eyes.
"We need to get out. There is no tactical advantage in staying inside." Not with them. "Let's move!" With that, the shinigami delivered a kick at the closest bookshelf with a strength her tiny frame should not possess.
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Turning to face the window, she shifted her stance. It was plenty big enough for both her and Peter to get through. There were benefits to being small.
"Three!"
The shinigami stayed low to the ground as she struck the window.
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(The comment has been removed)
Hanatarou's startled cry was cut off abruptly when he struck one of the shelves, then slid down onto the floor amidst a minor avalance of books. He somewhat belatedly lifted his arms to protect his head and blinked around at the store, attempting to regain his bearings.
This was all wrong, even more so than nights usually were in this place. They should've been back in the building, he should've had dinner with Sora and then had his uniform to change into. He could've at least felt like he was prepared for the night that way, even if the false-Hisagomaru he carried was more for show than anything else, but this - whatever was going on, he didn't know, and had no idea what he was supposed to do.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming from behind him, and the shinigami froze in place for an instant, ignoring the inevitable trickle of blood that seeped from one nostril as he focused on the spirit threads around him. He could hear something there, but - no threads. Nothing ( ... )
Reply
Those things were hunting like only the slow and stupid could, but there was way too many of them, and it didn’t take a proficient threat to be able to get through a door when there was enough of them around.
Or a window, but it’d take a while for them to manage that. Right?
He had more strength than someone with his figure should have seemingly possessed, and a second later, the back of the shelf clunked against the wood of the door. It reeked, and one barricade wasn’t going to do much, and ugh there was still the ones who’d been inside when the change had happened. Minus Hinamori and the boy, the two of which had… gone out a back window ( ... )
Reply
The books he'd been throwing hadn't made any impact whatsoever (literal or figurative) on them, and it wasn't as though he was any use in combat. And the stranger had tossed him into the relative safety of the shop instead of leaving him on the street, which if nothing else was worth thanks. Even if the man was rather disturbingly good at eviscerating shambling zombies with his bare hands ( ... )
Reply
Landel had seen to limiting his capacities like the bastard were lobotomizing an animal, but Aidou hadn’t felt the impact in quite such a way as this. And that was a mindset he couldn’t fall into, because he would not be rattled and he would not let himself think of failure ( ... )
Reply
He could see more the creatures shambling in on him from the main street.
Sanzo pushed at the front door. It gave, but stopped short against something heavy and solid. There wasn't any more time to try and force the thing. The undead were getting closer, and he needed to hurry up and make a damn decision whether to try this place further or move on.
The monk walked around to the side of the building, when his eyes caught something. One of the ground-level windows was shattered, and judging from a glance inside, it looked like someone had attempted to barricade the front door. Why the hell they didn't barricade the windows as well was beyond him. Gun out in front of him, he checked the main room, studying the corners, the counter. The last thing he wanted was to stumble upon a nest of frightened patients and get his ass shot at.
It looked clear. Carefully stepping through the broken window, Sanzo entered the bookstore. Glass crunched under his shoe soles.
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Even now, he felt those instincts seize him, baiting him to kill whatever threat was in his way. The more Sanzo tried to distance himself, the more he thought of his comrades who continued to walk down their different paths while disregarding their origin point entirely -that man whose ideals had fueled all their wills to begin with. How many more men will lie down and allow their enemies to step all over them? How many more men will sacrifice their honor and integrity for things like money?
It continued to disgust him.
"Why wait for your enemies to strike out at you when you can be rid of them before they even have a chance. The more you play the obedient dog, the more others will treat you as if you were born as one to begin with. But you weren't. You were born wild. Untamed. Have ( ... )
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A flash of bright hair and...
"Sanzo?"
Fuck.
Without thinking, Kenren moved to his side, crouching down and grimacing at the sight of the blood which was pooled around the man's body. What the hell had happened? "Crap. We need to get you some healing right now," he murmured, more to himself than Sanzo. What the hell had the monk done?
Reply
He stepped into the building, looking around the dim interior carefully. There didn't seem to be anything waiting immediately inside, but that was no reason to throw caution to the winds. Complacency just got people injured or worse. He kicked aside some of the broken pieces of barricade and moved further into the building. The scent of blood and dead flesh hit him, but he heard no movement just yet. He turned back to the doorway where he could see Guy and Claude. "It seems safe for now," he said, although his voice was grim. "Watch out for the shrapnel."
Reply
The thought was both enticing and sickening, and Claude abruptly stopped after taking several steps into the room. Just what the hell was wrong with him all of a sudden? It was hard enough to think with how much his shoulder was hurting, and now this?! With the way things were going, he felt like he was practically turning into some kind of ( ... )
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