spin_kick_snap: (Contortionist: Spangles 02)
The drumbeat of the dead echoed across the lot like a relentless overseer on an ancient slave ship. Gorgon's confident smirk faded and even Stealth seemed shaken.

Below them, the exes parted to let the trucks drive up. Over a dozen of them, all spray-painted with different shades of green. Seventeens rode on the roof and hung out the windows. At the head of the parade, Rodney Cesares rode in the back of a National Guard truck decorated with skulls and a large neon-green 17 on the hood. They whooped and hollered and fired their guns into the sky.

And it continues... )

[NFI, NFB, OOC welcome. Preplayed by the masterful crew represented here, [livejournal.com profile] whoisalicewhite, [livejournal.com profile] tigerundercover/[livejournal.com profile] vdistinctive, [livejournal.com profile] rebelseekspizza, [livejournal.com profile] not_every_mage, and [livejournal.com profile] soniaroadsqueen. Bits of text adapted from Ex-Heroes by Peter Clines. Last of the posts for the day, though check out the comments for the last bit. Warning for NPC death]
spin_kick_snap: (Zombie 02 (Forlorn))
Josh Garcetti checked on his latest patient, an appendicitis case. She'd come in on her own, he'd pulled out the offending organ, and now she was asleep. Her stitches were clean and tight, no seepage at all. He tried not to dwell on the fact that at one time, he could have repaired her without a single incision. Of course, lots of things had been different back then. The world had been alive, for one. So had Midknight and Cairax and Blockbuster and Banzai.

So had Meredith.

He made a few quick marks on her chart, then stepped out into the nurses' station and made another set of notes on the night log. Then he turned to the cabinets and found himself inches from Stealth. He stumbled back and the move yanked his withered hand out of its pocket. "Jesus," he snapped. "Do you have to pop out of nowhere like that?"

The cloaked woman said nothing.

Footsteps made him turn and St. George stepped in from the hallway. He was bare-chested and covered in bruises. "George," Josh said with a nod. "What happened to you? What the hell's going on?"

But George wasn't alone. Zzzap was with him, and Cerberus, and Gorgon, too, which was weird because Gorgon never came to see him. He suffered Josh's company only on Stealth's most stringent orders. And there were others as well, strangers. Or so he thought at first glance. But the two younger guys seemed familiar in a way that nagged at his memory and in the center of the group-- "Mystique?" he asked. "I thought you'd left to go find help after Banzai died."

"After you let her die," Gorgon spat. "While you were napping because you put her at the end of the fucking line and made her wait for hours."

Now he recognized the young men. They'd come to fetch Banzai home, back in the early days. She had refused and they'd fought and he'd left early, unable to take Nick's blatant jealousy and Max's smug amusement and his own guilt. "What are you all--" but Stealth interrupted him.

"When we were discussing the progression of the disease," she said, "you said you have had the virus hanging over you for almost a year. You were bitten eight months and six days ago."

He blinked twice, then a third time. "That all? Feels a hell of a lot longer. Sorry I don't have a computer-like mind like you." He shrugged and re-pocketed his dead hand. "Is that everything? Mr. Willis would love to get a few Vicodin so he can sleep."

Her feet shifted and she was between Josh and the cabinet. He sighed and pointed at a row of bottles. "Do you mind?"

"The first definite sighting of an ex-human," she continued, "was ten months ago. On March 9th, an unidentified woman assaulted a group of Seventeens in a parking lot. The attack which infected Rodney Cesares."

Josh shrugged again, but his eyes flitted between the two heroes and then back towards the tiny group of strangers. St. George realized his hands rolled themselves into fists.

Stealth still hadn't moved. She was tense but fluid. She was confident. "Your wife died almost a year ago, didn't she, Regenerator? Eleven months ago yesterday."

The doctor's glare shot past her, past Gorgon's stricken face and Zzzap's staticky buzz of shock. It landed on the three familiar faces in the crowd and he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

A little late for apologies )

[Content warning for mentions of previous, off-camera suicide attempts and attempted execution of an NPC. NFI, NFB, OOC welcome. Preplayed by the masterful crew represented here, [livejournal.com profile] whoisalicewhite, [livejournal.com profile] tigerundercover/[livejournal.com profile] vdistinctive, [livejournal.com profile] rebelseekspizza, [livejournal.com profile] not_every_mage, and [livejournal.com profile] soniaroadsqueen. Bits of text adapted from Chapter Twenty-Four of Ex-Heroes by Peter Clines]
spin_kick_snap: (Zombie 02 (Forlorn))
The days blended together, as they always did. Hell had no sense of keeping time, beyond the coming and going of demons. In this little isolated corner of it, there was even less to go by. The jailer demon was there, and not-there, sometimes terrorizing her, sometimes content to leave her to stew in the sheer emptiness and despair of this place.

It had been the latter for some time. She drifted through Hell, fighting off lesser demons here and there, but mostly just... wandering. Aimlessly.

She did not realize she was bound for the divide until she saw it, shimmering before her. Purgatory, just out of her reach. She stared at it.

Also for a time.Two dead women have a chat )

[Preplayed with the delightful [livejournal.com profile] rebelseekspizza. NFI, NFB, OOC is love]
spin_kick_snap: (Zombie 01 (Hungry))
Before coming to Fandom, Kathy had lived her entire life surrounded by rules: who she could interact with, how she could spend her free time, what she could wear, how she should speak to her parents. It wouldn't be kind to say that what little living Kathy had done in LA had been in the few brief moments when she could forget the rules and be herself, but it wouldn't be inaccurate either. Coming to Fandom had changed that, albeit slowly. It had taken months (and friends) to help her let go of most of the rules she had internalized, picking and choosing for herself the ones that she wanted to guide her life and ignoring those she didn't. Becoming Banzai had helped let her go of more and she learned to live as the fastest, bounciest, most colorful superhero on not one but two coasts. But no matter how many rules she left by the wayside or adjusted for her new life or just plain broke, there was one that she never, ever wavered on.

Kathy Li did not kill. Not sapient beings. She could fight them, she could hurt them, she could incapacitate them, she could ruin their whole day, but she could not, would not kill.

But Kathy was dead )

[NFB, NFI, OOC is biter-hungry love. Some minor descriptions taken from Ex-Heroes by Peter Clines. Zombie-typical violence and death under the cut.]
spin_kick_snap: (Zombie 01 (Hungry))
It had been a month to the day since Kathy died and the heroes of Los Angeles were fighting a losing battle. By Stealth's calculations, the surviving population had likely dropped to below fifty thousand people. To those few heroes she trusted most, she said that her most accurate estimations put the population to around half of that. A little over twenty-five thousand living people in a city that used to house millions. Death on a scale that vast was literally unimaginable, even when living through it. And that was just in LA. There were something like three hundred million exes wandering the country. No one could say how any other cities were doing; communications had been down for weeks. For all anyone knew, Los Angeles could be the last place in the country--the world--with survivors. Didn't really matter either way. Nobody was coming to save them.

This was surprisingly cathartic to write )

***


For a month, the ex that had once been Katherine Hana Li had sat in the planetarium at Griffith Observatory, watching an endless loop of movement and color that her living mind could have identified as Centered in the Universe. She might have sat there contentedly forever, safe from the chaos that raged outside the way her friends had hoped. But the power outage that hit Los Angeles did not spare the planetarium out of concern for the one zombie ensconced inside. There, too, the screen went dark.

Freed from the spell of moving lights, the ex stirred. Stood. Started to walk. There was nothing for her--for it--here and the rising screams carried on the night wind drew her attention. She made her way slowly through the observatory, eventually finding the broken doors and pushing her way through to the park outside. There, she oriented herself towards the screams, making her way towards the heart of Los Angeles with unerring precision. The park was miles away from civilization, but it didn't matter. As an ex, she had no concept of time or distance. She was driven by only one thing.

She was very, very hungry.

[Yeah, I'm still doing this. Anyway, NFB for distance, NFI for obvious, warning for typical zombie-levels of violence under the cut.]

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