entrancelogs | (no subject)

[ zombie event, days 1-3; Soos is a predictable man(-child), when push comes to shove. When something not only crazy spooky, but crazy spooky dangerous comes swinging into life like a metaphorical sledgehammer, he's the type to take action.

Action in this case roughly translating to: check on the Pines family, try his best to help people out when he's in motion. He wouldn't be much of a handyman if he left so many situations un-repaired, right?

So for a span of time during the Weekish of the Living Dead, as it were, Soos will do his best to present a reliable figure. Even if the nature and increasing difficulty of the zombie apocalypse itself means that he isn't out frequently, he'll be doing his level best to help. This may mostly come in the form of swinging a shovel or sharing his junk food stash in passing. Mansion-wasteland survivors gotta eat too, dude.

And in some cases, they've gotta be almost eaten. Yikes. He feels like this one is kinda on him. Which brings us to:

zombie event, the rest; Handyman availability veritably plummets through the rest of the event, or at least the availability of a generally cognizant and helpful one. After taking a bite during the third day of the event, Soos spends a day or two in recluse for various reasons. If anyone's in need of a rando infected trying to eat their face or something, he could… probably be of use, but who wouldn't be of use in this economy?

If anyone would like to run into Soos post event, he'll be cropping back up the day after it ends. Some prime examples of his activities once he's handled any personal business are: eating dinosaur-shaped cookies, the least brain-looking food he can possibly imagine. Clumsily stitching up a torn parachute, because heck, why not? Checking in on folks he may or may not have encountered before he lost higher brain functions. Normal Soos stuff.

And of course, for the rest of April, there's always WILDCARD. Time is on our side. ]

[ zombie event; If anyone's looking to watch a scrawny, anxious teenager progressively lose more of his shit as the days go by, Morty presents a pretty clean viewing opportunity in his travails. He'll be spending a lot of his time hanging around near Rick, the man who provides laser guns and probably flamethrowers and shit, knowing him. And anyone stopping into the third floor tearoom is likely to encounter him.

Now, Morty figures that he very feasibly could just hunker down in the tearoom and ride out the undead horror train without a lot of risk. But the thing about that is, he has a longstanding habit of letting the moral compass he's determined to keep run the show. It can get kind of Little Shop of Horrors on him during times such as these.

… there are a lot of people in this castle who might not have zombie-fighting in their genetics, you know? The least he can do is try to get out there and help people figure out what they're gonna do. If that means trying to get them to some weapons or just shooting the undead first and asking questions later (in appropriate Smith-Sanchez style), then so be it.

For the rest of April, there is of course always the WILDCARD option. ]

Never let it be said that Rick doesn't know how to give an angry teenager an outlet.

And it's not like this is the same as that, uh, unpleasantness back on that purge-happy cat planet. These are fucking zombies. They're the most basic, no-morals enemy you could ever hope to come across. There is literally nothing wrong with killing zombies, not even killing zombies with great prejudice. 98% of the time there's going to be no cure for zombie-ism, and despite what some movies and TV shows will tell you, as far as Rick is concerned there is literally no moral quandary involved in murdering the fuck out of someone you love to prevent zombie-ism.

People even put that shit on bumper stickers: friends kill friends who turn into zombies.

So after a nice patrol of the third floor during which several mushroom-headed assholes were set on fire and several more were disintegrated and several more were turned into goo with plasma rifles, Rick claps Morty on the back.

"See, Morty, told ya this would be fun. Th-This is great, this is some, this is family bonding is what this is. Kid and his grandpa surviving in the face of the, the end of the world, killing zombies together, it's great. All we need is a dog and we'll have, it'll just be the p-perfect feel-good family movie."

Even Morty has to agree there aren't many arguments to make against good old-fashioned zombie fighting. Even trying to consider the 'they used to be people' angle only really serves to drive home the fact that they're sure not people anymore. (And that no sane person would want to keep living like that, besides.)

Zombie apocalypses are generally awful. Less awful and out of control than the purge planet was, less crafty and hard to work up to shooting than the brain parasites were. He and Rick aren't directly responsible for them existing, and the less of them there are, the better everyone else's chances are of getting through this event in one piece. Morty's not a math kid by any stretch of the word, but he still thinks that it adds up to a morally kosher way to spend some time.

Catharsis and fun can totally go together. Eat plasma, you pieces of zombie shit.

"I don't know about a family movie or any of that, Rick, but i-it sure is nice to have something-- have an event go down that we can, get out there and fight back, you know? Like w-we're helping people, and we're not all stuck together i-in some tavern or dungeons or anything."

"God, Morty, don't remind me of that one, I'm still fucking pissed at that Krampus fucker, I swear to god the next time I see that Satan-wannabe I'm making a, a goddamn lamb roast out of his ass, that's what's g-gonna fucking happen."

The tavern one wasn't much better, but at least that one was mostly just boring. This event, though, this is actually fun. Whoever said the fake end of the world couldn't be fun? No one. In Rick's experience, the best time to be in any world is when it's ending.

Rick aims high and shoots one of the blind, clicking zombies right in the face, turning its head into purplish goo.

"Ha, that's what you get you...uh...shit, what's a type of mushroom. You fucking--portobello fucker."

He's making a note of that "next time" for future exploration. Or he's having a passing thought about it, and he'll completely forget how ominous it sounds once he starts really getting into being a zombie-slayer. With Morty, that's currently up in the air.

All Morty knows is, it's nice to be having a nice time with Rick. And it's nice to have a lot of weapons to pick from to make a zombie explode or turn inside-out or whatever. Jeez, maybe he should play more video games in his downtime.

"Haha, y-yeah! Go find a-- a burger with swiss to lay on, right, Rick?"

Edited (that was not the icon i picked wow) 2016-05-01 02:17 (UTC)

"H-Hell yeah, Morty!" He charges the gun again in case another zombie decides to show up. "That's the spirit. Blowing up zombies, s-shouting one-liners. Man. N-Now I'm kinda craving a portobello burger. Damn, that's, uh, that's first on the list of, a-after this event is over, I'm getting one of those like half pound motherfuckers from the closet. I mean, that's like, I don't usually go in for fancy burgers, M-Morty, it's a burger just, just fucking go to McDonalds, but I dunno, s-sometimes it just works. Like you--"

He pauses for just a second to shoot another incoming zombie, then continues.

"--get one of those burgers with the, the blue cheese? That's some good shit, Morty."

It sucks that the mansion decided to go all hyper-realistic with this dumb end of the world stuff and create a supplies shortage. Cans of beans and corn just don't match up. Plus Rick is starting to run out of booze. That's gonna be a problem that he is definitely not thinking about.

That right there is prime quality bonding time with Rick. The unspeakable horror elements are nice and contained, he hasn't started sobering up yet. Just a couple of guy having some good old fashioned fun. Putting zombies out of their misery like cool dudes do.

"I guess I never really thought about burgers one way or the other, Rick. I-it does seem kinda weird to have a bunch of fancy ones all the time, though, huh? Those ones that you, the kind you end up having to eat with a fork and all that."

Edited (i didnt like this repeat structure i gotta wake up) 2016-05-09 02:11 (UTC)

Good old-fashioned family values. The family that slays together stays together or something like that. And hey, this is a good outlet for all that pent up aggression Morty has that Rick pretends not to acknowledge or ever think about.

"Yeah, I mean, sometimes you wanna go for that, that whole, medium rare with blue cheese and, I-I dunno, onions or something, but sometimes you just want that gray shit they pretend is meat that they give you at, at Mickey-D's. Like, sometimes you just want shit, Morty, nothing wrong with that."

He shoots two zombies that are standing in a convenient row and both of them erupt into greenish flames.

"Yeah, I mean, I-I guess that's where a lot of their business comes from anyway. Nothin' like that, uh. Instant gratification, drive-thru deal."

Pent up aggression? Morty?

Nah.

His bouts of killing zombies while screaming stuff like "step the FUCK OFF" is definitely unrelated to anything. Natural family-friendly instincts all around. This is healthy.

"Y-Yeah, exactly." He blasts another zombie as an afterthought. "Nothing wrong with getting what you want r-RRRRHHHRHRR-ight away. Like killing zombies with laser guns that's, haha, that's pretty instant, am I right?"

He gestures off down the hall toward one of the sneaky zombies that thinks it's being super stealthy hiding behind a door.

"check out this creepy fucker. y-you wanna do the honors?"

"It doesn't get much more instant than that."

Haha, and oh, wow, he... almost feels bad for this zombie. It thinks it has its shit all covered. It thinks it's totally in the clear to come sneaking up behind them and have a free meal. Just minding its own business, looking to viciously murder a few people. What an idiot. Morty shoots Rick a thumbs-up and engages in hot pursuit.

Sometimes in life, "hot pursuit" just means quietly walking towards a zombie like twenty feet away, but the satisfaction of pistol-whipping it and quadruple-tapping with a laser gun makes up for the lack of a chase scene.

Rick grins and gives him a thumbs-up in reply. Good job, Morty, not making noise and sneaking up on the sneaky fucker, nice thinking.

And Rick just kind of starts cackling when Morty wastes the thing, though okay, maybe the fourth tap was a bit much. The zombie was already goo by the second shot, but uh. Anyway.

"Fucking nice, nicely done, you really, you showed that creepy fuck who's boss."

He didn't start this zombie war, but he'll fucking finish it one way or another. Sometimes through excessively shooting inanimate goo.

"Oh, uh, thanks. Just tryin' to keep those zombies down a-and morale up, you know? We could get right through this whole event together."

He chuckles and props the gun on his shoulder. There's a couple more zombies further down the hall, but they're slow and dumb and he's not gonna worry about it for now. Morty's proving to have pretty good aim, so.

"Yeah, like I said, it's a regular, regular Disney movie up in here. We're gonna see this dumbshit event through to the end, Morty, you and me."

A hundred years Rick and Morty fighting zombies dot com. Just being Rick and Morty, struggling against the undead hordes.

"Boy, Rick, I don't know about Disney. I- I mean, I think they lean pretty hard on a family-friendly reputation and mowing down zombies kinda goes against that. I don't wanna-- I don't think we're HBO or anything, but this all seems pretty adult-oriented, if you ask me."

Shit, that reminds Rick, he needs to actually secure that domain name before some other dumbfuck does. Or another Rick.

"Nah, we're more the, the Netflix exclusive type deal or Adult Swim or Showtime, something less classy. Or, fuck, dear God, you don't think we're on the CW do you? Jesus Christ, Morty, I can't be on the CW, Morty, for, for personal and a-a-a-also for legal reasons. Anyway, shut up, Morty, don't be so, so damn literal. You...Literal Larry or...what the fuck ever. Man. I hope we're not on the C--"

The world may never know what Rick's issues with the CW are, because right then a zombie pops out of an adjacent room and lunges at them. Rick shoves Morty's head down so he can shoot the zombie pretty much point blank right in the face. Though fortunately Rick ends up with most of the splatter.

Weeeeellllp that was a pretty close one actually, and those ones at the end of the hall are shambling a bit faster now, so Rick wastes them too.

"Okay, might wanna, we should probably start kicking down doors."

Domain names are always half the battle. Morty gets a little preoccupied with trying to remember exactly what sorts of shows the CW does versus whatever all the other networks are bringing in. Like, he's sure he's got the gist of all that, it's just keeping it in order that's a bitch to manage. He thinks he kinda likes the CW, though.

Downside to preoccupation: not prepared for zombie attack. Rick covered his ass this time, but it's all around pretty much not the right moment to think about TV networks. Get your head in the game, Morty. These assholes sure aren't gonna do it for you. They're downright asking to get vaporized.

"Whoa, thanks. Y-you're probably right about that one. Like we can't really, we can't say we cleared a hallway out unless we hit the rooms, too." Morty does whatever the appropriately cool thing to do with laser guns vis-à-vis cocking or reloading them. There is no better time. "I can go low if you go high?"

Rick is already checking the next room before Morty finishes speaking. He's kinda sorta slightly a bit more on the ball now. If anyone's gonna die in this stupid event, it's gonna be Rick, not Morty.

His Replacement Morty voucher is no good in this dimension, after all. Yeah.

"Not a terrible idea, Morty. Y-You're starting to, to really think like a, like I dunno, like a scientist o-or something."

The next room is locked. A couple more zombies are yelling and hollering from the direction of the stairwell, so Rick just tosses a grenade that way. There's an explosion and the yelling turns briefly to screaming, then to silence. Nice.

"And watch our backs, Morty, I d-d-don't wanna get ass-fucked by a goddamn mushroom."

Oh, wow. 'Not a terrible idea' is pretty high praise coming from Rick. Sometimes shooting things together really does bring out that sense of family bonding, huh?

"Yeah, I've got it covered, Rick. Not turning into a zombie is, that's pretty much my top priority right now anyway." And for once, normal human priorities pay off.

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OTA

equally OTA

tearoom-ish, midway through the event

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