Don't worry, guys. It's just a zombie apocalypse. Nobody panic.

[godsoftartarus]

Who; All the Infected and YOU
What; Zombies. You know, the usual.
Where; Where isn't it?
When; Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday
Rating; R+ for violence and some graphic imagery. View discretion is advised.
Status; Ongoing;Open

Comments

The Market | Open | this is totally not me showing off really

[zerosuitjill]

[Call it instinct, call it adaptation, call it some effect of bearing traces of Umbrella's legacy in her mind and body, but Jill knew almost immediately that these zombies weren't her zombies -- which, against all odds, is proving to be a bad thing.

With the exception of Crimson Heads, her zombies weren't this fast, or this physically capable -- it's almost like someone mixed Las Plagas with--

No, no. Not going there, because if she thinks it, someone somewhere will think of it and do it.

She's confident, but she's not stupid -- with the marketplace being the most populated area, walking down the street is all but suicide. Instead, she sticks to alleys, backstreets, occasionally rooftops, taking out every zombie she can as silently as she can, which... given her weapon choices, isn't too quiet, and so she's fighting off a group more often than not. Including now.

But given the headshots and kicks she's throwing out consecutively at rapid speeds, blowing out the brains of anything within sight or knocking back any that come too

Showing off? What?

[bluesteelbitch]

[Jill might feel something whizzing past her head before she sees the blue woman. A headshot to one that was coming up behind her followed with her own kick to the one between them, she's smothered in arsenal. Bullets form an X from shoulders to hip, and what appears to be a utility belt has various grenade-like things dangling from it.]

You can thank me later.

[That's all she says as, a machine gun in each hand, she raises her arms to proper head level and simply lets metal rain down upon the assailants.]

lolol GURL POWA

[zerosuitjill]

[A surprised glance and nod of acknowledgement are all she can manage, anyway, before she has to redirect her attention. Now able to afford a blind spot, she puts Mystique at her back and whips around to fire a spray of bullets into another onrushing group of Infected. Some heads explode, others go rolling as Jill's fire shreds through the necks beneath them, leaving a grisly line of mutilated corpses on her side of the field, none of them making it within six feet of her.]

BUT OF COURSE

[bluesteelbitch]

[Mystique is rather the same, though she's unsure what would happen if she were to simply throw a few grenades into the fray. Who does all the rebuilding anyway? The dead? Who takes care of craters in the marketplace, really?

She's not going to run out of bullets anytime soon, but that doesn't stop her from seeing a half-decapitated Infected and hitting it with her gun, effectively killing it and making way for another headshot.

And then her ears perk up, but she doesn't stop her movements.]

...do you hear crying?

[zerosuitjill]

[There's enough of a lull on Jill's side for her to listen for such a sound -- and after a moment her head twitches towards the source without removing her eyes from the oncoming undead.]

To the left? [Down a smaller alleyway, it seems, lookatthat]

[bluesteelbitch]

Yeah, didn't someone mention crying as a bad thing?

[The last thing Mystique wants is some super-undead emerging from that alley. She wouldn't mind going down it, of course, but not until this group is taken care of. Damn.]

[zerosuitjill]

[one second CLIP EMPTY -- she ducks under one zombie's swing as she plants a sweep kick into the throat of another, knocking it off its feet. She rises again and draws her handgun, what with switching weapons being faster than reloading, and clocks the Infected behind her with a quick shot.]

It's what I heard, but I didn't have a chance to ask for details. What're you thinking? [KILL IT is always her first reaction, if it's possible, but she's not about to pull someone unwilling into anything.]

[bluesteelbitch]

[Mystique's own side has thinned incredibly, what with a ridiculous amount of ammunition to back her up strapped to her chest. A few more rise to come against her, and she, too, pulls out a simple handgun, striding forward to shoot the remaining four straight between the eyes. Her skull dress, splattered with blood, her face as well, she look entirely manic. There's nothing in her gaze that suggests she'd ever think of anything else.]

Grenades, my dear.

[zerosuitjill]

[Jill doesn't miss that impression, but neither does she have time to dwell on it.]

...Sounds like a plan.

[She trades her 9mm for the SMG that's fully loaded, tearing into the group remaining in front of her. One Infected stumbles into near-reach, but Jill side steps, drops it with a kick, and stomps a boot down onto what's left of its rotting skull, splattering blood and brains and softened bone over the asphalt and the shins of her khakis.

Fighting zombies never gets any cleaner.]

This is as low as they're going to get. Let's move.

[bluesteelbitch]

[Mystique doesn't hesitate to lead, longer legs and all. She puts her back against the wall leading into the alleyway, taking a grenade off the clip of her belt and sticking it between white teeth. She arms it and tosses the grenade in the direction of the sobbing, spitting the pin out in her mouth and clipping it back.

But she doesn't cover her ears.]

[zerosuitjill]

[:| Jill does, also with her back to the wall but playing rear security, watching the way they came.]