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Who: Toothless, and you!
Where: All over Wonderland.
When: Zombie event.
Rating: PG-13ish.
Summary: What's wrong with the shambly Vikings who can't move around much? Why do they make those weird noises?
The Story:

22nd, 23rd, 24th—

He doesn't much understand it, the word that he hears on the communicator. It sounds vaguely familiar, like something he heard someone mention in passing, but the Vikings are a bit of a mystery. Not as much as for some, however, because Toothless can smell them decaying, and he knows what that means. Death.

At first, they ignore him. He isn't sure what to make of that, but eventually they come after a Viking he's protective of and he lunges out — and then the creatures all at once become aware of him, and he isn't safe anymore. He barely was to begin with, maybe, but it was something. Now, he moves quickly. Looking for Vikings who are stranded or seem to be in need of help. It's not as easy as usual, because, once again, he can't breathe fire, and his wings feel wobbly. Unsteady, incapable of flight.

But he still has his teeth, his claws, and the force of a twenty-foot-long dragon to throw things around with. He moves like a shot through the woods and anywhere else he finds, getting out of the prison quickly enough. At first, anyway. His mind is on the Vikings, and where his friends are.

25th—

Something strange happens in the night. By teeth or by the scratch of a nail, Toothless wakes up feeling strange. Hungry, in a way he recognizes from when his Mirror was in his mind. While he'd like nothing more than to tear the leg off of a dragon, or rip into its throat, any Vikings he finds will have to do. Or anything else, for that matter.

The brilliant green of his eyes fades, just a little, giving way into a paler color, his teeth yellowing and his scales losing their keen shimmer. His wings drag alongside him, the Night Fury having lost the ability to control them entirely, and his tongue lolls from his mouth. But he can move quickly in short bursts, should he catch sight of anyone.

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Caroline hadn't thought much of Wonderland in the negative sense. Sure, she'd been taken from home, uncertain of the fate of someone special to her, and she couldn't contact her mother, Elena, Bonnie, anyone — but it hadn't been too bad, not really. It wasn't until the things that shook the walls of the mansion and changed it's shape and even the scent and sounds of it did Caroline start to think of Wonderland in the negative. She was human. And, as always, she didn't like it. She felt blind and deaf and incredibly uncoordinated.

On the first day, she'd managed to find herself a pipe. She was running on adrenaline; she was acting blindly and ruthlessly and simply wanted to get the hell out of the prison the mansion had become to find greener pastures. As a human, she was afraid; afraid of being bitten, of being killed, of not being able to survive as she had managed to do so as a vampire. And she was afraid now, as she swung her pipe until the dead thing fell. She kept hitting it until it stopped squirming.

And it's then, when she looked up, that she saw the only person she seemed to always meet when the shit hit the fan. "Toothless?"

The events might suck, but the best thing about them was that she never did end up alone.

[Jesse is rattled. As if waking up in prison wasn't enough to freak him out, the fucking terrifying zombie horde that'd chased him out had absolutely done the trick. Not that he didn't have some kind of zombie preparedness plan- because let's face it, everyone totally has one of those- but all of his had involved being back in Albuquerque, not... Wherever the hell this is. And so his planning had amounted to precisely dick, the one notable exception being "try not to die." It's been working out so far... But just barely; the axe he's got set next to him is remarkably clean because no matter what the redneck guy on the network had said, he'd been going for the run, not the brain... But after a day of running and precious little food, he's completely wiped.

Really, the only thing he's got going for him is the small fire he's managed to start, just enough to keep him from freezing to death now that it's somehow about twenty degrees colder than it'd been yesterday. How you like his Man vs. Wild marathons now, bitches? He told you it'd come in handy some day. Not that he's anything resembling a woodsman, but it's definitely a fire, and anyone walking this way is bound to smell the smoke.

...Like the walker whose attention he's caught. You know, the one that's headed over to his crappy makeshift not-camp right now...? The one he's completely unprepared to fight off? Yeah.]

This is definitely one of the Vikings that he's been looking for, and Toothless, looking disheveled, skitters forward to nuzzle his snout against Caroline's leg. He's pleased to see her, after catching sight of a few Vikings who had fallen prey to the fumbling hungry things. She seems to be in a similar state to himself, which is comforting.

The Night Fury chitters quietly, looking up at her with his big green eyes.

[Vikings have tales of spirits, where Toothless is from, but he's missed any lessons about zombies. All he knows is when he pounces on them, and their skulls split like ripe melons, they stop moving. That's good enough for the dragon, who's been using this information liberally to escape from confined areas. Creatures of his size, who were meant to fly, were not meant to be ground-locked in a crisis.

While he's alerted by the smell of smoke first, a comforting smell that reminds him of his own firebreathing capability (well, normally), he soon catches sight of the shambling figure who seems to be doing a pretty good job sneaking up on...

...hey, he knows that Viking!

Snarling gutterally, the Night Fury lunges forward to tackle the dead and decaying thing that certainly means harm to his friend. He won't rest until he's put his claws through its soft, rotting brain.]

He's making bad choices all around, Lindsey has decided. Still running from these things isn't bad right? Especially since he'd be useless in a fight?

But oh that galls him. His daddy would have never cut and run. Then again his daddy would have been so damn drunk he probably would have gotten eaten. That and Lindsey really couldn't bring himself to hate them.

Enough to want to hurt them.

He had other things to hate. Other people to hate, still. Running from them is hard enough and he's cornered by two - reaching for help -

"Dragon! Hey dragon! Dragon help!"

A call for help is something that Toothless can't ignore. He doesn't like being in areas he can be cornered himself, but there's the possibility of his Viking friends being in here. And it looks as though he's found one. The Night Fury is instantly on the alert, lunging toward the calls. He uses this speed to slam into one of the shambling creatures with force that cracks bones. And, more importantly, skull, as Toothless makes sure his zombie is down for the count.

Nuzzling his snout against her leg isn't going to cut it today.

Caroline swoops down, landing on her knees, and embraces Toothless with a fierce hug. It's not choking nor hurtful, as she's lost the power of her strength the minute she awoke on the first day. "Oh my god," she breathes out. She doesn't want to let go of him, so, she simply pulls back, keeps her hands on his scales, and looks him in the eye. "Are you okay?"

Cool. Lindsey will say it again, "...Cool."

His own zombie is attacking a little more voraciously. Aiming a kick at it, he shoves the creature into the wall before moving to step on it's head.

There's a splatter and Lindsey looks broken for a solid moment before turning back to Toothless.

"Thank you."

Despite some close calls, Souji's made it through the event un-zombified. That's about as far as his luck's extended, though. That and some fish he's managed to catch. He's still lingering in the quarry on the last day of the event and when he sees Toothless, he doesn't immediately notice that anything's wrong. He puts his makeshift fishing rod down and gets to his feet. He figures he can at least offer some of his fish.

[Hilariously, it's the growling that catches Jesse's attention as he prods at his crappy little fire with a shiver, and he whips around at the noise just in time to see a dark blur launch itself at the fucking shambling horror that'd been creeping up on him. It takes him a few seconds to recognize what (who) it is, but once he drops the stick, fumbling for that axe as he shoves himself to his feet.]

Oh, shit-- Oh my god, uh.. fuck fuck fuck--

[He's really, really been trying to avoid having to take care of these things, because they're people, or at least they were people, he's pretty sure... And while he's definitely well-versed in zombie lore, well... It's different when you're looking at a real one. This kind of crap is way cooler with a screen and one of those fake guns you hook up to the tv, that's all he's got to say.

Hang-ups aside, though, he's not gonna just sit there and let his dragon buddy get chewed up, and so once he's up and close enough there's only the slightest hesitation before he's raising the axe, swinging it inexpertly with a grunt and the aim of knocking the thing's head clean off.

..."Aim" might not be the best word, though; the axe sinks snugly (and uselessly) somewhere at the zombie's shoulder, and when the thing moves, it takes the axe with it. Pulls it right out of Jesse's hands as it lurches forward, arms outstretched...]

Fuck!

[He tried, bro...

Here's hoping dragons have better aim than he does.]

_{[Thank God Georgian winters are mild. He's never visited and probably never will, but the lack of real snow and cold is probably what saves his life, and he's glad for it. He'd never been uncomfortable in the outdoors back home, but home...

Home is a million years in the past and the playing field has changed.

Having made the mistake of leaving the prison, the throng of undead creeping around outside and in the woods keeps him from finding his way back inside; he gets turned around and around until it seems pointless to try and navigate his way back when zombies always seem to block the way.

Sometimes he hears gunshots in the trees. No one in their right mind would trust him with a gun, but he still wishes he'd been smart enough to get one of his own, especially when he can't turn around without seeing a zombie staggering around. Try as he might to be quiet, they seem to hear him every time--or maybe smell him.]}

Toothless makes a noise that seems to be an affirmation, a deep thing in the back of his throat that's almost like a sigh. He's tired of this change, already, and he wants the mansion back. He wants the ability to breathe fire back, and fly. Taking it away is a reminder of being stuck, flightless, in the grotto, back when Hiccup had found him. It's unpleasant.

Dragon beats human most of the time. Luckily. The Night Fury nods, chittering quietly in the back of his throat and stepping closer to Lindsey. He seems to be looking him over for injuries, sniffing at the fabric of his pants. Injuries are particularly bad this time around, though Toothless isn't sure exactly why. But he'll look out for them, all the same.

He can smell warmth, hear a heartbeat.

Blood. Muscle. Oh, he's so hungry. Even the tang of fish scales on the air can't grab his attention. He needs more.

Toothless turns in the direction of Souji, hearing his movement and zeroing in on him. He's not very coordinated, luckily, and walking is more like staggering as he heads in that direction, gurgling in the back of his throat.

[The woods are where Toothless feels safest. There's plenty of ground for him to run on, and space for him to maneuver. Plus, places to hide when he needs a nap. That's a bonus. Still, he feels obligated to keep checking other places for Vikings, because most of them seem to be sticking to the man-made sections of the new landscape.

They're not dragon-friendly, and so the Night Fury is forever going between. He certainly catches scent of Adam, even with a dramatically decreased sense of smell, and recalls the frazzled state he'd last seen the Viking in. Maybe it would be good to check on him.

He makes his way through the trees, quiet, and then rumbles when he catches sight of him, ears perking forward.]

[Night Furies are, luckily, tempered by fighting, spending most of their nest-time doing mock-fights much in the way that felines or other baby animals do. Toothless knows his way around a fight. Speed is, generally, how he wins them, and the zombie is much less agile. When it goes for one of his big eyes, he lunges to the side and out of its grip, and then lunges back to slam into it with one of his front legs.

The axe is dislodged by the blow, and clatters to the cold ground.

Toothless doesn't pay it much attention for the moment. He's too busy trying to stamp on the zombie's head and crush it.]

...That's definitely not normal. Souji's run into enough walkers by now that he's put on guard by Toothless's strange movements. He doesn't want to believe it, though, so he hesitates.

"....Are you okay?"

Oh please just like hack up some fish bones and be fine please.

The Night Fury looks in Souji's direction. Looks, but doesn't properly zero in on him like he should; even his eyes aren't moving right. But he knows from scent where the Viking is, and that's all the incentive he needs. He makes a noise halfway between a growl and a snarl, tapering off almost into a whimper, and then speeds his movements up a little, trying to get close.

No injuries. Lindsey's panting hard and heavy but he's fast. I'm learning how to fight. That's it. I can't stand it any more. There's a tentative hand reaching for toothless's nose but the moment the dragon looks scared, it'll drop.

_{[Jesus Christ, for the love of fuck--

He starts at the sound, though in retrospect he's not at all sure how he could have missed a creature Toothless' size sneaking up on him. The dragon isn't undead or rushing at him with blind hunger in its eyes, but that doesn't necessarily make him a friend. Foot catching on a fallen branch, Adam comes to a halt, not discriminating with his guarded look.

Zombies, dragons... they're all the damn same, at the end of the day. Different. Possibly dangerous, definitely dangerous in the case of the hordes of undead populating the woods. Monsters, all of them.

And him? He can't catch ever catch a break.]}

You're still here?

_{[At this point, he's half-convinced he's imagined the whole mansion and the simple, easy comforts within, they're so dim in his memory already. All that's left is the ache in his body and the phantom feeling of having teeth sink into his skin.]}

Caroline wants her ability to tear things in two and run at the speed of light back. She doesn't like how human she feels; clumsy and disoriented. Why does Toothless always have the luck in finding her in such a state?

Hesitantly, she says, "No … bites?" Her eyes roam over him. He doesn't seem hurt. There's no scratches nor bleeding. But she doesn't like that she can't smell it to make sure. She's not on her A-game and she dislikes how it slows her down. "Scratches? Cuts?"

Edited (editing for notif downtime, sorry for the inconvenience ❤) 2013-11-25 09:24 (UTC)

Fear is far from Toothless, at the moment; the aftermath of a fight makes him feel nothing but confidence — as well as a little concern, in this case. Toothless nuzzles his flat nose against Lindsey's hand, in a gesture of comfort. They're both alive. To fight again, no doubt, in the future.

Caroline isn't a damsel in distress, but still, Toothless has a knack for locating pretty Vikings when things go to shambles. Literal shambles, being that these decaying creatures have zero grace. The Night Fury shakes his head. So far, he's been pretty lucky. He ends his fights quickly, before things can fight back too much, after hearing that that's what he should do.

"Okay, good," she breathes out, relieved. She finds the tension that has built up within her has abandoned her almost instantly at the notion that Toothless is okay. She almost feels cold without it. "You're so not dying or becoming a zombie on my watch," she says, with a smile. Even though she can't protect herself nor him with her state of being human, it doesn't mean she's not going to try.

"We should go somewhere that's not in the open. They're, like, everywhere here." She glances around. The zombies are loud and sloppy, their feet barely lifting from the ground, but just because she can't hear them now doesn't mean they're not approaching. She hates how dull things sound to her; it's muffled, as though she's listening through a wall. She misses the sharpness.

The Night Fury nods his agreement. Out in the open, during the day, he's a hard shape to miss, now that the decaying dead things are paying attention to him. He gets to his feet properly, providing a platform to help Caroline to her feet, as well, and then sniffs, trying to gauge which way might be clear of zombies.

His sense of smell is dulled, too, like his vision to some extent, but it's still far more keen than the nose of most creatures. He chooses a direction that doesn't smell so bad and begins to move.

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23rd

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24th.

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25th because I CAN

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23rd!

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Evil!

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