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Entry tags:
[ log ] zombie apoc au
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| IT'S THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE. in the early 2010's, a dramatic rise in stillborn babies with the X-Gene swept the world. five years later, these stillborn babies rose from their graves looking the exact age they should be -- only they were braindead and after fresh meat. and even more followed. details 1. the original "virus" is a mutation of the X-Gene. there is no cure. 2. exchanging fluids with an infected person will cause you to turn (whether being bitten and having their saliva enter your bloodstream, having their blood splashed into your mouth and accidentally swallowing, etc.). 3. within 6 hours of infection, you turn feverish. within 24 hours, you lose control of bowel movements. within 48, you lose all motor functions. within 72, you die, and are "brought back" five minutes after your heart stops. 4. the infection started with mutants, but anyone can turn (including animals). 5. turned mutants not originally born with the condition have sporadic bursts of the power they possessed when they were living. 6. zombies die when their brains are destroyed. |
no subject
That's the whole fucking point, Rhus. I'm breathing, and they're not, and that's why this is fucked up!
[ He realises he's yelling far too late to take it back, a hand flying up to smack his palm to his mouth and keep himself quiet.
His arm trembles. His shoulders shake.
Logan thought he wouldn't start sobbing.
He was wrong. ]
no subject
They're already bloody filthy anyway.
Sometimes he wishes he were still a healer... and then the thought sends a pang through his heart, reminding Rhus why he gave up his white mage's cane long ago and took up the arcanist's grimoire. All this death that he wouldn't have been able to stop, he would have tried to bury himself alive with the first group he lost.
Which was back in the west coast of the States, not London.]
Aye, I know. [Sometimes he slips back to old speech patterns, despite not having used any of it in so long. But it just makes people think he's posh and pretending to be a commoner, or some shite like that.] But I want you to keep breathin', all right?
no subject
It's a few minutes before he does anything else. He muffles his cries and his swears and all his frustrations into his palm, and then shakes as he tries to regain what little composure he has left.
When he does, he wipes at his tears and the snot that drips from his nose, smears his forearm against his mouth to remove the saliva there.
He doesn't have a fucking choice but to breathe, and even if he's stopped sobbing, his lip continues to quiver as he shuts his eyes against the continuing drench of tears. ]
...fuck this. [ Turning, he looks at Rhus with sad, tired eyes. ] I'm just gonna lose you, too.
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Logan has enough tears for both of them, and in some ways, Rhus is jealous. Crying is an outlet.]
No, you're not.
[If anything... Rhus is going to lose Logan one day. It might take a few more hundred years, but Rhus will be the one alone eventually.]
'M not going anywhere, Logan. You try to leave me behind and I shan't be gone for long.
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Instead, he presses his face into the curve of Rhus' shoulder, breathing his scent in, and even if he doesn't smell like he's lying, it doesn't stop him from aching just thinking of losing him.
Rhus isn't allowed to make promises like that.
But Logan stays there anyway, sniffling and shivering and wishing he could die with all the friends he's lost, and lingers for as long as he can before he starts to feel like a fool. ]
We. [ Voice muted, rasping, he lifts his head a measure, blinking hard to get rid of the last of his tears. ] ...we gotta get moving.
no subject
Though sometimes he does wish he could do everything he can freely. In some ways, he's jealous of Logan for having such accelerated healing that impossible feats are expected of him. Rhus just gets hurt and the injuries stick unless he dies-- not what one would expect from immortality.]
Yeah. [But before that... the Miqo'te turns the sleeve of his jacket inside out, and uses the dry, clean inside fabric to wipe Logan's face clean and dry.
When he's done, he gives Logan a squeeze on the shoulder, careful to keep his grip soft as a human's, and stands.]
I packed up. All we need now is to just grab the bags and leave.
[But perhaps... they should have been more alert of their surroundings, because the world is still harsh no matter what. The sounds of dozens paws pounding the ground reach Rhus' ears, but what makes them pin back against his mane is the scent of infection.
He hisses.
A wolf pack. An infected wolf pack.]
Logan--
no subject
Damn it.
Their bags are close to the graves, a few metres from where Logan had chosen to mangle a tree and the ground beneath. He grits his teeth. Damn it. ]
You go ahead, I'll catch up. [ Because he's getting up on legs he doesn't want to move and sprinting for his life towards the packs they'd taken with them.
The first wolf sticks its head into the clearing. Logan swears.
It's got his scent, and with both hands slinging the straps of both packs over his shoulders, he hightails it back as fast as his feet can carry him.
But the wolf and its companions are following, and they're as fast as you'd expect animals to be. ]
no subject
And right now he's that foolish prey.
One of the wolves trips him by running into his legs and he hits the ground too hard, tiny stones and dirt and leaves scratching his skin and making it sting. He's only lucky that nothing got into his eyes, but he's still unlucky. Another wolf latches onto his ankle, shaking his leg so hard he knows it wants to break it so the Miqo'te cant run anymore. Bloody buggering fuck, he thinks, because he can feel the fangs break skin and he knows that Logan will not miss the scent of his blood in the air. Nor that this would mean Rhus has become infected. (Again.)
His heavy, steel-covered grimoire is in his pack-- with Logan-- and he has no way to defend himself and justify how strong he has to beat these wolves just so they let him go.
It blows, as the Americans would say, to have to pretend to be less than he is.
But Rhus lashes out anyway, kicking with old dark knight strength in his free leg hard enough to crack the skull of the wolf, enough to make it release him but not enough to kill it. He makes to scramble to his feet, but yet more infected wolves descend on him, and one manages to find his neck in its jaws.
Not once does he cry out for Logan's help this entire time. He's never asked for help at all if he could help it, and he's not going to do so now.
But he wishes he could apologize. The breaking of someone's neck under an animal's jaws is not pleasant.]