call for the captain ashore...

[goldn_boy]

Who; James T. Kirk and OPEN [to first person who wants to eat him]
What; Jim arrives, and it's just like any other day
Where; Anywhere public they both might happen to be
When; Today
Rating; PG-13; potentially R for violence
Status; Complete

Comments

[aint_comin_back]

After attacking a shopkeeper in the Market -- for no other reason than that he was hungry -- Mal had run. Just run. Obviously, he couldn't be around people. Still hungry (for flesh, for blood and, oh God, craving the way living flesh tore in his hands and teeth,) Mal was making his way out of the city as quickly as he could.

And without looking around, which made keeping away from people a little more difficult. He'd bump into a shoulder and snarl, then barely catch himself and skitter away instead of taking a bite. He rounded a corner quickly and bumped another; frustration and fear reared their heads and he snapped, hands coming up to either grab at the man or shove him away -- he couldn't tell and wanted both.

"Outta my way, dong ma?"

[[*dong ma: understand]]

[goldn_boy]

But Jim's instinctive reaction--aside from general readiness--was to reach out and steady the man, briefly grasping his arm as he made sure neither was going to go down. And his curiosity overcame any trepidation as to the man's mood.

"My apologies," he said, brow furrowed, wrapped up in his own predicament. "Can you tell me where I am?"

[aint_comin_back]

Ah, hell. Gorram helpful stranger, this one. For a moment, Mal's grip tightened on the man and he fancied that he could feel the pulse of living blood beneath the skin. So, so tempting...

Horrified at himself, he shook the man loose and stepped back, immediately looking for a way around. Can't go back; not toward the Market. Can't go forward. Might not overcome temptation.

"Underworld. Came at a bad time. Might wanna step aside."

[goldn_boy]

The man looked scared. But not of Jim. Like he was looking for a way out, away from something. Jim frowned, not moving from his place.

"What's going on?" he said, his voice firm. "I can help."

He didn't know this, not for certain. Or rather, he didn't know how. But he knew he would.

Yay, a Kirk!

[nurse1701]

Christine is honestly not sure whether she is overjoyed that another familiar face has appeared, or whether she should be sad that he is now forced here as well. Her first instinct is to be glad.

"Captain?" Once again she is faced with an older version of someone she already knew back home. After staying with the doctor, she really isn't phased. So instead she glances around quickly (they are in the middle of a cannibalizing epidemic) and makes her way towards him.

[goldn_boy]

Across the street, his eyes seek the source of a title he hadn't been expecting. Not here, not when he can't contact his ship. Is someone from his crew stranded here, too? He finds her, and his features crease in confusion, because it looks like Chapel but it's all wrong, and he can't quite place it yet.

Of course, this allows another of the hungry mob to bite down into his shoulder, and he reacts instantly, punching as best he can to dislodge it.

[nurse1701]

Christine doesn't hesitate and hurries forward. She swings her heavy kit straight into one of the closer infected people and scowls as it tries to cling to her.

"Sorry to interrupt, but you look like you could use some help."

[goldn_boy]

"That was supposed to be my line," he says, grimacing at the bite wound and then kicking another away from them. Introductions can wait--or rather, explanations. "What the hell's going on here?"

Ever so late..

[roadhouse_mama]

Ellen was on her way out of the marketplace. The entire area was becoming a damned abbatoir. People were either tearing into each other like starving creatures, or fleeing the attackers. She'd picked up what few supplies she could, using her shotgun or revolver to ward off anyone who got too close and looked just a might bit too hungry.

She nearly bumped into the man in the gold shirt, before elbowing him sharply aside, firing off a round at a man who was getting a little too close to them both for comfort.

"Damnit. Well, you look new so I'm gonna hazard a guess that your timing stinks and you just got here?"

[goldn_boy]

"That's about the size of it," Jim said, deciding in a split second that the lady with the gun was a better bet for his safety than the milling zombie crowds. Instinctively, he turned, so that they were not quite back-to-back but at least covering more territory, visually. "I don't suppose you can tell me what's going on?"

She didn't seem fazed by his appearance, that of a stranger. It almost felt matter of course. Jim was now bleeding from more than a few bite marks, but he was on his feet, having done his best to fend off his attackers.

"Or that you have another weapon?"

[roadhouse_mama]

Ellen set her shoulder against his, her smile humorless. "Short answer? Par for the course in the Underworld. Longer answer?" [shotgun blast] "We'd better get out of here before we get eaten."

She rummaged around in the leather satchel and withdrew a pistol, shoving it in the man's hands. "Hope you know how to use that. You see the building up to the east? Sign says 'Harvelle's Roadhouse'. We make a break for it there. The place can hold off any attack for as long as we need it to."

[goldn_boy]

Jim took the pistol, the weight odd but the intent familiar. Though "the Underworld" wasn't. He looked out over the oncoming group, then down at the gun. "No stun setting," he muttered to himself. "Of course."

He aimed, and one of the attackers reeled back, bleeding from a hole in his upper arm though otherwise heedless of it.