Have mercy. Oh, have mercy.

[fatherlesskind]

Who: Alistair & Open | Alistair & Robyn
Where: Throughout the mansion
When: April 16th to 20th
Rating: PG-13 to start with, may be upped later
Summary: A Warden and some monsters that spread infection wherever they go. Business as usual really.
The Story:

April 16 to 18: Some people have no sense of personal space

These... things - Infected or whatever they were called - are enough like darkspawn that Alistair can't just hide out somewhere safe and hope everything will be OK. Even without that similarity he wouldn't feel right just sitting back while others might be in danger. Add to that the fact that he's not a hoarder by nature and has only what scraps of food the closet provides? He has no choice but to venture out sooner or later.

The important difference is, unlike darkspawn, he can't sense these. Hence, his current situation.

The deformed faces of the things that had ambushed him loom closer as he struggles to push them both off. His shield is keeping them off him for the moment but, off-balance and pinned against a wall, the weight of his own armour working against him, he can't easily force them back. His sword lays on the ground, just out of reach, where it had fallen when the creatures jumped him.

More worrying than his present situation - which really, he'll have completely in hand in just a second - is the sound of movement coming closer. If more are coming he... could be in trouble. Gritting his teeth he shoves harder against the snarling pair with designs on his nose. He just needs to get free before their friends arrive. If he can please manage that he'll be a good boy from now on and pray every day like he's supposed to. Just so long as he gets to keep his face.


Closed to Robyn: You are not the boss of me. She is.

Wardens on the whole are bad at staying home and avoiding danger. Maybe that's why they all have such shortened lives and it in fact has nothing to do with the taint. It's something to think about. Later. When there's not a pack of the creatures closing in on them with every clumsy step.

They haven't been detected yet but it's surely only a matter of time. Alistair has both sword and shield at the ready, peering around the corner to size up their opponents as they wander about the hall up ahead. Glancing over at Robyn questioningly he tilts his head towards them and asks softly, "Well? What do you think?"

She's by far the stealthier of them and knows what he's capable of while he's never seen her fight. If she thinks they should try to sneak around and avoid a fight then he'll be Mr Stealthy. Or he'll try. He makes no promises of success so if they are sneaking she's going first.


April 19: Nothing like a brush with death to make you... not like death much.

Once he'd recognised the infection for what it was and what it meant there had really only been one choice. He couldn't kill himself and it would be too much to ask anyone he knew to do so for him. Besides, he'd known since shortly after his Joining that sooner or later he'd succumb to the corruption in his veins and would become a monster if he didn't die first. This was just a different kind of monster with a different cause. But his course of action remained the same.

Alistair had shouldered his weapons and set out for the basement, searching out any of the creatures between him and it. If he runs into anyone fighting the things he throws himself into the fray, putting himself between them and danger with a blatant disregard for his own life or safety. On his own he engages the creatures without fear, slamming into one of the blind, deformed ones with a snarl, struggling to drive his blade into it as it forces him back.


(OOC: If he's not killed first Alistair will be turning on the last day so if anyone wants to run into him as one of the Infected feel free to throw something up or prod me for a starter. Prose or brackets are both fine, I'll match format.)

Comments

17th

[assembles]

Thankfully, it isn't one of the Infected's friends that Alistair heard coming. Steve has been making patrols through the spore-filled hallways when he can to make sure no one has gotten caught there -- when he has a gas mask with a working filter, anyway. They run out way too fast and Steve hasn't wanted to take any chances. While he'd like to think that his serum would override any infection from the spores, he can't be sure and he's not going to take that risk if he doesn't have to.

With the gas mask firmly in place, though, Steve actually feels pretty good. The Infected are fast, but so is he, and he's been able to take out a fair number of them so far. He's on the lookout for more when he hears a commotion up ahead, which is what bring him to Alistair's rescue.

When Steve spots the man backed up into a corner by two of the monsters, he doesn't stop to think, just races forward to grab for the dropped sword with one hand and then slam his shield into one of the Infected with the other. That sends it stumbling against the wall, though the second one has fast enough reaction time to lunge for him. Steve dances backward out of its range as quick as he can. He didn't quite figure out his next move, but he's taken the heat off of the stranger, and that's what matters.

[fatherlesskind]

Alistair barely has time to register the arrival of another body before one of the creatures has been knocked off of him and is already crashing into a wall. The other decides that makes him the less tasty looking treat and turns its attention to the stranger with the odd face mask, giving him a chance push off the wall.

He's quick to recover himself, taking in the situation quickly and turning his attention to the nearest creature. The newcomer has his sword but he still has his shield and if there's one thing his old trainers were enthusiastic about drilling into their students (along with everything else they could) it was that a shield can be just as dangerous as any blade in the right hands.

Leaving the second Infected for the stranger to deal with, he lunges at the first one and drives it against the wall again with his shield and the full weight of his body. It staggers, giving him time to draw back and slam his shield into the twisted remains of its face, again and again until bone crunches sickeningly beneath the metal and its struggles weaken and finally stop.

With one down he turns his attention to his rescuer, to check that the man has his own opponent well in hand.

[assembles]

Much as Steve might hate to admit it, this is where he really thrives. When he's in the middle of some chaotic battle, fighting for his life with someone at his back, his body moves without him having to think. It's exhilarating in a way that he can't really put into words.

These things used to be human, and what happened to them is horrifying. But they're not human anymore, and it's up to him to make sure that the infection that's taken over their minds doesn't spread any further. So the guilt of what he's doing isn't as strong as it might have been under other circumstances.

Steve's hearing tells him that the other man has his situation under control, and so he focuses on the Infected that's gunning for him, backing up further until it stumbles, at which point he lunges forward to force it back with the shield. When it's thrown off-balance, Steve does what seems natural in that moment: he shoves the tip of the sword straight through the zombie's chest.

He's never used a sword before, but sticking the pointy end into your opponent seems to be the general idea. When Steve pulls the blade back out, the Infected crumples to the floor, and that's when he turns to see the mess that the stranger has made of the other one's face. With his shield, no less. He gets bonus points for that.

Steve shifts his grip on the handle of the sword so that he can extend it toward the man. "Here you go, sorry about that." He kind of got zombie guts all over it. "Are you all right?"

The guy isn't wearing a gas mask, Steve realizes. That can't be good...

[fatherlesskind]

That.... went pretty OK. A lot better outcome than he'd foreseen just a few minutes ago.

The other man handles himself well and it seems like mere moments have passed before both the creatures are dead and the area is, for the moment, clear.

Alistair grins at the stranger and grasps the hilt of his sword when it's offered. "Not a problem, that's what it's for." Getting covered in blood and worse. And killing things but that sort of goes without saying. Readjusting his similarly bloodied shield he lets the blade hang by his side, just in case more of the creatures come. He'd like not to get caught by surprise more than once.

"I'm fine, thanks to you." It's a little harder to hear the man through the mask he wears but it's not that much worse than talking to someone through a helm and Alistair has done plenty of that from both sides. He's not about to complain anyway, that would be just a little bit ungrateful.

"They caught me by surprise. I don't normally play the damsel in distress but I appreciate the help." He glances down at his hands, gauntleted with a sword grasped in one and his shield in the other. Hopefully his company wasn't a stickler for manners and he could be forgiven for just waving instead of offering a hand to shake. Because he's not in the mood to let go of either one till he knows he won't need them again.

"I'm Alistair. It's nice to meet you... Despite the circumstances." Or is that because of?

post-hiatus tag, totally okay if you drop!

[assembles]

"I wouldn't really call that playing the damsel," Steve says, and while the mask covers his mouth, the smile can be heard in his voice. This Alistair clearly knows what he's doing and he shouldn't beat himself up for getting cornered. It could have just as easily happened to Steve in the same way, and then their positions would have been reversed.

Now really isn't the time for a friendly shake anyway, so Steve thinks nothing of it. This floor is swamped with the Infected, so better that both of them are on alert for anything else coming their way.

Though really, what Steve wants is to get Alistair up to a safer floor where the spores haven't yet spread. He has to hope that the guy hasn't been exposed for so long that there's no hope for him.

"I'm Steve." They can leave off last names and titles for now. With one last glance at the Infected to make sure that they're not going to stand back up and make more trouble, Steve nods down the hall toward the stairwell. "Come on, we should get upstairs. You shouldn't be down here without something to cover your mouth."

nope, not a chance!

[fatherlesskind]

Getting a move on before more Infected show up is definitely a good idea. Taking care of those others hadn't been especially quiet and there's no knowing where more are lurking. He tries to not to get nearly killed more than five times a day. Too much excitement otherwise. It could give him wrinkles.

Alistair follows Steve's direction, trotting towards the stairs alongside the other man. His smile fades into a faintly guilty look at the reminder that there's a reason he can't see his companion's face very well and he coughs uncomfortably. "Oh. That."

He had seen the broadcast from that girl warning everyone about these things and heard her say about not breathing things in. But, well. "I thought about it. Covering my face I mean." But a scarf wouldn't stay in place once he started fighting and it hadn't seemed that important. It wasn't like he could see anything in the air that he could breathe in and get sick from. Besides, he's a Warden. That doesn't grant him immunity to things that aren't the taint but it does mean it's his job to protect people from monsters, whatever the personal cost may be.

"I was looking for anyone who might have gotten cornered by those things." Hence why he's down here at all, scarf or no scarf. Getting cornered.

Look, he didn't say it was a great plan.

<3

[assembles]

He thought about it.

Steve almost wants to stop right then and there and lecture Alistair for not taking this more seriously, seeing how he may have written his own death warrant, but now it's even more imperative that they get the hell out of here. Why would Alistair simply assume it would be okay despite the fact that they'd been warned?

Then again, Alistair seems to come from a place that isn't as technology advanced, where things like germ theory might not even exist. Which means that he might not have understood just how easy it was to get infected.

Despite all of his good intentions, he'd only gotten himself in trouble. Steve realizes that scolding him for it won't do any good now, but he's frustrated to know that this could have so easily been avoided.

"Well, if you end up coming down here again you need to make sure that you wear a gas mask," Steve advises as they reach the stairs and he heads up them at a quick pace, practically skipping steps. "This infection is aggressive, and you're going to need to watch out for any side effects now."

[fatherlesskind]

Hurrying up the stairs after the other man, Alistair frowns. "Is that what that thing you're wearing is?"

A gas mask. To protect him from whatever was in the air that could make them sick. It looked as suffocating as the templar helms he'd always hated, though with less concern about helmet hair. And less protection from blows to the head. But good for keeping someone from breathing in things that turned people into ghoul-like creatures. So, alright, useful. Maybe he'd be able to get his hands on one before coming back out, but even if he couldn't-

"I have to come back. Not here in particular." His steps slow until Alistair comes to a halt, frown deepening as he looks up at Steve. "I'm not going to just hide while people might be in danger. And if there's a chance I might already be sick I shouldn't be around others." Where he'd just be a danger to them. Though he was pretty sure he was fine. He hadn't been bitten and again, he hadn't seen any signs the air was dangerous. Even the taint wasn't that easily caught.

[assembles]

The amount of people here who feel a personal obligation to keep other people safe can be a little dizzying at times. Steve's got a whole team back home (and here, in some form) who are the same way, but those numbers are tenfold here. It's an encouraging thing, but he also finds himself in a place where he wants to discourage others from taking the risks that he accepts without a second thought.

Then again, he's a super-soldier. Maybe Alistair has some special abilities that Steve hasn't seen yet, but so far it looks like he's a regular human with training in using a sword and shield.

"I get not wanting to just sit around until it blows over," Steve says, figuring that commiseration will work better than any other strategy right now. "But you have to make sure that you're protected next time, and keep an eye on your symptoms. I don't know how long it takes for them to show up." A sigh, and he continues their ascent. He makes it up another flight of the stairs before he looks to Alistair again, his face lined with worry. "If you do develop symptoms... you know what that means, right?"