OPEN | you think i'm dead but

[circlejerked]

Who: Anders (circlejerked) and anyone!
Where: Alexandria.
When: Backdated to July 15-16th.
Rating: PG-13 for our unwelcomed guests, the zombies.
Summary: No Starbucks, but you get a mage with a big stick. A late edition to the zombie event, but I mean, it's zombies. Gotta love zombies.
The Story:



I. Day 2

<sub>[Don't look now, but there's a man in a housecoat beating on a zombie at the front gate... sort of?

There is a man and he is in robes, but up close they decidedly fall closer to the armored battle wear variety, and the weapon in his hand is less a bludgeon in the act of mindless beating and more a long, hefty fighting staff in the middle of poking. The zombie straining against the bars seems little more than harmlessly irate, swaying back a step at each push of the staff only to push forward again to repeat the process.

What you see before you is a mage studying the undead. A little poke to see its pain response there, a little prod to see how it reacts there... The experiment continues on with magic from that point: telekinetic blasts, tongues of fire, small currents of electricity that leap from his fingers, testing the bare minimum of forced needed to make the dead permanently dead.

Something can be said for these pitiful creatures: at least they're not carrying fungal spores, or the taint, or invisible to the naked eye.]</sub>

... just ugly.

II. Day 3

<sub>[Survival is, fortunately enough, something a successful apostate can do in his sleep--mostly since there's not a lot of time or opportunity to sleep when every templar in creation is out for your hide. Joining the Wardens had only continued to teach the joys of fighting hordes of invading monsters. Occupational hazards.

What that means for whomever happened to run into this house with him to shake pursuing off pursuing zombies is that Anders had been quite content to play sentry at the window, a practiced hand at watching out for the nearest thing intending to kill him. Deprived of prey, most of the zombies had lost interest milling around and slowly waddled off back onto the street in search of bigger and better pursuits, but one stubbornly curious zombie continues to claw at the door. It's starting to draw attention, Anders notes with an exasperated grimace.

Well, shooing won't work, so...

Looking to his latest survival partner, he eases a knife from the sheath at his belt and nods at the door. Open it.

Although beaning it with his heavy staff could be fun and cathartic, a more subtle shushing might be best for this loner that won't just take a hint.]</sub>

Comments

[sciencelizard]

[She wants to laugh, to enjoy his jokes, to push this off as something unreal and that they’ll definitely get out of. She has no reason to believe she won’t make it- Wonderland hasn’t killed her yet in well over a year- but there’s no reason to say it won’t, or that she should somehow relax. The door groans, and she’s only reminded of why they need to go, effective immediately.]

M-Me either.

[She scurries behind him, closely, trying to take as few steps as possible as her claws scrape on the wood. Her body shaking isn’t helping as it taps, and she’d hate to be the one that turned this into a real firefight.]

Is there-- is there anyplace around here that’s safe? Is there anywhere we c-could go?

[circlejerked]

I'm starting to think we should find a roof and just stay there.

<sub>[Is he joking? At this point, it's hard to say. It's certainly true that the ground seems to be getting more and more chancy with each hour; Anders can't believe the amount of bodies cramming the streets like ants swarming food left out in the open.

They're the food, which makes the comparison all the more queasy.

A narrow hall leads to a series of small, cramped rooms in the single family home they'd taken shelter in, the tick tick tick of Alphys' claws like kitten claws following along behind. The bang bang bang of undead hands evokes a somewhat less appealing association. Oh, Maker, please don't let them end up zombie food...

Marking the end of the hall is the door into the backyard. Anders peers out the door's square pane of glass.]</sub>

Well, I have some good news and bad news. The good news is they haven't found their way back here yet. The bad news is there's a fence.

[sciencelizard]

[Honestly, Alphys made a joke about just putting a hammock in a tree earlier and it's just sounding more and more feasible. Just tie her to a really, really tall pole, and let her take a nap until this is all over. That would just be fuckin ideal.

She steps cautiously after, trying to keep her movements steady, but Anders can hear her skitter every time one of the zombies causes the door to let out a rather loud bang. She doesn't speak again until he does, letting out a little groan and putting her clawed hands on her snout.]

Is it t-tall? Maybe we can just, uh, g-get over it. Or there's a ladder in here??

[The window is a little tall for her, but she cranes her neck up a bit as if she could get any kind of view.]

[circlejerked]

_{[For someone who'd already made a name for himself as the village scarecrow by his early adolescence ("all leg and no sense" as the First Enchanter had put it once), a couple of fences and garden gates aren't so terrifying--but there's petite Alphys to consider. Could she even reach the top to pull herself over?]}

For you? I'd... guess so. I'll have to boost you--

_{[The crack and shatter of glass from somewhere in the vicinity of the living room rather decides it for them, and Anders tenses without turning around.]}

I mean, I will boost you. I think that's our cue to leave.

_{[Like, now.]}

[sciencelizard]

[She can't help but shriek when the glass shatters, looking around quickly and finally just grabbing a nearby chair. It's rickety, but it's a boost of some kind.]

W-We can use this or something I don't know let's go right now immediately???

[She's gonna run straight into the door, chair and all, if Anders doesn't open it. If he already has, she's full out running as fast as she can with this thing towards the fence, ready to get over as fast as possible.]

[circlejerked]

<sub>[--Oh.

All right, they're going to do it like this, then.

Anders does not in fact get more than his hand wrapped around the knob before Alphys is hustling at the door like a lion tamer about to charge her lion with a chair, but manages to partially get it open, arm held aloft over Alphys' head, the rest of him squeezed up against the wall so she can get past him.]</sub>

Remember the first rule of running for your life: don't panic.

<sub>[That... may be too little, too late, however.

The last one out, he locks and shuts the door behind him, hoping to buy some time. The last thing he sees through the glass pane is a shadow on the wall, cast by a body shambling down the hall they'd just vacated.]</sub>

Is the yard clear?

_{[It'd be a pity to drop down into a kiddie pool full of zombies at this late stage in the game.]}

[sciencelizard]

[Don't panic. Yes, okay, sure, she is not going to panic when they could be ripped to shreds, Anders, listen to yourself dear god. She's sprinting full-force towards the fence, only looking around when he actually speaks to double-check.]

I don't s-see any--

[And then, of course, something pokes it's head around the corner, and Alphys feels herself stop breathing.]

Okay, maybe one, we have to g-go faster!!!!