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 LIFT ME UP SOMEHOW, [ FIZZ/ALLEGRA LANDRY ]
ARIEL BROWN
Posted: Mar 30 2012, 11:33 AM


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Ariel tilted his head towards the ceiling. He stared at it for a while before closing his eyes and letting a heavy sigh escape his lips. He was trapped. In a fucking McDonald’s.

Trapped. In a motherfucking McDonald’s.

In front of him lay the body of a girl who’d attempted to eat him, and she was now headless. Not decapitated because of a shot at close range, decapitated because Ariel had stomped at her forehead violently for about half-an-hour, until what was left was a mushy mix of the three B’s: Bone, Blood and Brain. It looked like spaghetti. Unfortunately for her, she had been the only creature in there for him to take his rage out on. Luckily she had already been very dead prior to the first connection between his heel and her skull. It was her fault he could not get out. The PI had been upstairs, shooting the undead tenants for shits and giggles when she had accidentally kicked a playpen ball behind him, causing him to topple backwards down the staircase.

In the confusion that followed some minor dents to the head, she stumbled after him and in the subsequent skirmish had somehow gotten the door jammed. It was a heavy door, a safety measure completely unnecessary given it was a storage in the basement of a junk food chain. He had tried to open it, and failed miserably. It opened inwardly, so he surmised it would need an outside push to loosen up. His luck to be roaming alone when shit like this went down. Not that he’d ever tell Raphael he’d slid on a kid’s toy down a staircase and a zombie had locked him in a fucking McDonald’s. No, he was better off dying here than owning up to that one.

Despite him not being the sole survivor in these troubled times, the chance of another chancing upon the basement was slim at best. But he was merely taking a breather now. He’d shoot his way out of there in a second. Such an action could possibly be redundant, he came to conclude once a sound from outside caught his attention. A voice. Well, it was no zombie. Fucking idiot was shouting. Asking if there was somebody in there, the voice did. A woman’s voice. Somebody unknown. It was someone he had not met yet. Someone he could potentially curl around his little finger with his loveable smile and small dimples and potato-nose and charming hair with that relentless schoolboy floppiness taking no note of his current age. Yeah, he could go for that approach. But you know what? He’d been in there for what felt like hours now, and he was fucking pissed off.

Instead of running forth in excitement and gratitude for being – this he would never openly admit, ever, to anyone – saved, Ariel’s eyes merely narrowed considerably as whoever was out there took a noisy step back. It would’ve been fitting for him to light a cigar and welcome the newcomer with a cloud of smoke and some cocky one-liner Caruso-style, but he was hardly in the mood for theatrics. Rather he kept his butt-lean on the tall storage table, feet crossed at the ankles in front of him and hands supporting on either side, in the left one casually resting a gun aimed at the floor. The direction of the muzzle could easily be shifted, and he had every intention of doing so within the next couple of minutes.

Seconds later the door burst open, revealing a gun-wielding woman inching forward. “God-fucking-damnit, about bloody time somebody opened that fucking door.” Shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness – there was one lamp hanging in the centre of the room, but it was flickering in an ominous horror-movie fashion and did not offer much sight – Ariel sized the woman up. She was more intimidating than the models he’d encountered in this post-apocalyptic world, still he snorted. “Thanks, for alerting every flesh-eater in a fifty mile radius of our location.” He got up, reloaded his gun and pointed it straight at the girl’s temple. “How many are left up there now?



[[ Polishing up an old starter like a pro. Action! ]]


^^^
ALLEGRA LANDRY
Posted: Apr 5 2012, 02:13 PM


Unregistered









    McDonalds probably did not strike most people as a useful place in the apocalypse. Admittedly fast-food was a pretty lucid term in these times and it was the first time...well...ever, that there weren’t McJobs going. Still, when you were going it alone you had to take risks (carefully thought out, assessed and controlled risks mind, but risks nonetheless) and you worked out plenty of places that others didn’t think of. No, she wasn’t expecting to walk in the door and get a BigMac...and she was actually one of the few people in America that had never had one. She was an Olympic gymnast before the un-holiest of shit hit the world’s biggest fan so her diet had been impeccable and there was only three things she’d ever bought from McDonalds in her life. Coffee, diet Coke and water. Today, she was there for the latter.

    Water was a damn hot commodity these days. Sewage and water works down, bottled water was the way forward. Unfortunately places that had bottled water also tended to have food. Even this late, they’d be some food that had rotted and with dwindling numbers of humans the zombies would be attracted to that. Or else they might be one of the lucky undead who had stumbled across dead employees – now that was today’s fast food. Easy food, anyway.

    Through the windows she could already see a handful of zombies. Some were munchies away on a lovely dead half of a something. Or rather a someone. The rest were roaming rather aimlessly. She sighed. Sod’s law stated that there was definitely something in there worth having – hopefully water – and thus zombies were between her and it. Drawing her pistols (already equipped with silencers) from their holsters on her hips, she checked the street was empty before heading for the “restaurant.” Silencers brought accuracy down a little, she knew, but not enough to miss at the close range she usually shot from and the last thing she wanted was to polish off one zombie only to have the noise attract three in his place. She hesitated at the doorway taking a deep breath before kicking the door open and striding in. The zombies turned towards her and she quickly dropped them all. Once they had all hit the deck, Allegra looked round for a few moments before striding through the blood-strewn tables and chairs, putting an extra bullet in the skull of every zombie, before heading to the corpse that had most caught her interest. One had been scraping at the door that led to the basement. Zombies were stupid, certainly, but animalistic in interest. If it wanted downstairs, then there was something down there.

    The basement was empty. She narrowed her eyes as she looked round, guns raised cautiously, before spotting the blood smears on another door. One brow twitched upwards and Allegra approached the door hesitantly, putting her ear towards it. Leaning back a fraction she called clearly, ”Hello? Is there anyone in there?!” If she heard growls then hey presto, the door stayed closed, if not, there might be something worth getting her hands on. Nothing. Stepping back, Allegra holstered her pistols on her hips (with the rest of the small armoury on her person) before pulling her sawn off shotgun from her back and holding it firmly. Then, with little warning (though who did she need to warn?), the gymnast leaned back and kicked the door in hard. She lifted her shotgun instinctively, spotting a person before her eyes flickered over to assess if they were alive or not.

    Her eyebrow only arched further at his verbal spew. Her eyes flashed only briefly to the demolished zombie at their feet before back to him. She gritted her teeth at his insult. Ungrateful little shit, before smirking every so briefly as he raised his own gun in return. Hey, if he was going to kill her then she was going to blow him in half on her way out. ”None. I killed them all....but I can shut you back in if it’d make you feel safer!” She smiled coldly for a moment.
^^^
ARIEL BROWN
Posted: Apr 9 2012, 01:18 AM


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Group: SALTY DOGS
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For a woman with a gun lovably pointing at her temple, GI Jane seemed decidedly unaffected by it. Ariel was not sure how he would have behaved in the same circumstance himself, but surmised he’d either talk, stare or nag his way out if, depending of the situation. Though he rather liked how this woman’s approach was lifting her own weapon and pointing it squarely at him, before offering a remark in return.

For someone who’d been trapped in there for… maybe it was two hours? Three? Anyway, he hadn’t really taken a thorough look around. His intention for being there had been to have fun with his newfound post-apocalyptic hobby, not to feel safe in a fucking McD’s. “It’s a goddamn McDonald’s. Not Fort Knox.” It sure had seemed like Fort Knox when he’d tried to get out of the basement. But he wasn’t exactly Houdini either. He had apparently needed a girl to save him.

But he wasn’t entirely stupid. “This Mexican stand-off would be better suited in a Taco Bell.” Lowering his aim, Ariel kept his nonchalant stance and readied half-an-eye on GI Jane, though his primary attention was on the staircase. It wasn’t the longest he’d seen, but had fifteen steps to a turn and then eleven more before hitting ground level. Definitely not an ideal thing to be at the bottom of, especially with the welcome team that could potentially be waiting at the top. She seemed confident enough in her having dispensed of all the things. But like he pointed out, she might’ve attracted more.

The fuck are you doing here anyway?


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