The unDead Shall Crawl and Devour Us All -- It's Zombie Week!
Characters: All are welcome
When: During the zombie/monster/ghoul attack (more toward the beginning)
Where: Inside the Complex
What: In a battle of living versus undead, who will survive and who will fall victim to this hideous disease as it spreads throughout the Complex?!
Warnings: gore/violence/vore/language/Roman
Notes: This post is open to the community. Anyone interested in fighting the zombies, becoming a zombie, anything to do with zombies, etc., may join.
The pungent aroma of nitroglycerin-soaked-sawdust and ammonium nitrate created an all too familiar burning sensation inside his nostrils. The Joker, still determined to break free of the complex, was lining the wall with dynamite. He'd come to the conclusion that beyond this wall, should he succeed in blowing his way through it, there would be nothing but the outside world beyond. About halfway finished, he stepped backwards from the wall stringing a bundle of cables over the floor as he went, each attached to a unit of dynamite glued to the wall. But as he was preparing the blasting cap, something small and female grabbed onto his arm.
Thinking it was was nothing more than Harley making a nuisance of herself, he elbowed it and shoved it away without bothering to look up from his work. It wasn't until two rows of dull teeth sunk into the firm muscle flesh of his arm that he turned and found that the thing whose jaws were latched onto his arm was definitely not Harley. A pair of glassy, white eyes stared back at from the ashen, corpse face of a young girl and rank odor suddenly assaulted his senses. Enraged at having let this thing attack him so easily, the Joker drove a pair of pliers through the side of its skull and deep into its brain.
Momentarily stunned, the thing released him long enough for the Joker to land a kick to its abdomen which sent it hurdling backwards. However, muffled scrapes and sounds of movement were sprouting up all around him as more of the things clamored forward, as if drawn by the scent of blood. Could this be another of Crane's toxic illusions? It would have been easy to assume it was except that his body felt completely different when under the toxin's influence. There was no dizziness, no racing heart, no sensation of insects borrowing into the marrow of his bones like the drug produced. No, this wasn't Crane.
The pliers still in his hand were dripping with a viscous, black fluid. Quickly, he picked up the ends of the cables and the blasting caps and rushed for shelter. From the shadows an old woman rasped at him and lashed out with a clawlike hand but she was much too slow to catch him. The others didn't have much luck either as there were still too few of them to completely surround him. He sought shelter behind another wall and immediately set to work crimping the fuses of his dynamite. The explosives detonated with a loud boom that shook the east wing of the complex, but while it had blown off chunks of the wall and worked to stun the advancing zombies, it failed to breach an opening to the outside.
Exasperated, the Joker collapsed against the wall he'd take to hiding behind and succumbed to the sharp, icy pain that radiated from his arm throughout his entire body. Joints and muscle grew stiff and his chest ached tremendously but at least, for now, the zombies were no longer in pursuit.
When: During the zombie/monster/ghoul attack (more toward the beginning)
Where: Inside the Complex
What: In a battle of living versus undead, who will survive and who will fall victim to this hideous disease as it spreads throughout the Complex?!
Warnings: gore/violence/vore/language/Roman
Notes: This post is open to the community. Anyone interested in fighting the zombies, becoming a zombie, anything to do with zombies, etc., may join.
The pungent aroma of nitroglycerin-soaked-sawdust and ammonium nitrate created an all too familiar burning sensation inside his nostrils. The Joker, still determined to break free of the complex, was lining the wall with dynamite. He'd come to the conclusion that beyond this wall, should he succeed in blowing his way through it, there would be nothing but the outside world beyond. About halfway finished, he stepped backwards from the wall stringing a bundle of cables over the floor as he went, each attached to a unit of dynamite glued to the wall. But as he was preparing the blasting cap, something small and female grabbed onto his arm.
Thinking it was was nothing more than Harley making a nuisance of herself, he elbowed it and shoved it away without bothering to look up from his work. It wasn't until two rows of dull teeth sunk into the firm muscle flesh of his arm that he turned and found that the thing whose jaws were latched onto his arm was definitely not Harley. A pair of glassy, white eyes stared back at from the ashen, corpse face of a young girl and rank odor suddenly assaulted his senses. Enraged at having let this thing attack him so easily, the Joker drove a pair of pliers through the side of its skull and deep into its brain.
Momentarily stunned, the thing released him long enough for the Joker to land a kick to its abdomen which sent it hurdling backwards. However, muffled scrapes and sounds of movement were sprouting up all around him as more of the things clamored forward, as if drawn by the scent of blood. Could this be another of Crane's toxic illusions? It would have been easy to assume it was except that his body felt completely different when under the toxin's influence. There was no dizziness, no racing heart, no sensation of insects borrowing into the marrow of his bones like the drug produced. No, this wasn't Crane.
The pliers still in his hand were dripping with a viscous, black fluid. Quickly, he picked up the ends of the cables and the blasting caps and rushed for shelter. From the shadows an old woman rasped at him and lashed out with a clawlike hand but she was much too slow to catch him. The others didn't have much luck either as there were still too few of them to completely surround him. He sought shelter behind another wall and immediately set to work crimping the fuses of his dynamite. The explosives detonated with a loud boom that shook the east wing of the complex, but while it had blown off chunks of the wall and worked to stun the advancing zombies, it failed to breach an opening to the outside.
Exasperated, the Joker collapsed against the wall he'd take to hiding behind and succumbed to the sharp, icy pain that radiated from his arm throughout his entire body. Joints and muscle grew stiff and his chest ached tremendously but at least, for now, the zombies were no longer in pursuit.