spin_kick_snap | The Mount, Ex-Los Angeles

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The Mount, Ex-Los Angeles

The last time anyone from Fandom had been in Kathy's LA, the heroes had been living inside the walls that surrounded Paramount Studios, with the exes and the South Seventeens laying claim to everything else. Since then, they'd expanded; the Big Wall pushing the borders out almost a mile in all four directions. In some spots, it was hard to tell that there had ever been a zombocalypse; the streets were clean, the buildings repaired, the blood all scrubbed away. There was a proper school, lots of farms and gardens, several churches, and even a small library. The studio was still the heart of the community, but people had started to spread out and settle. It was still a tight fit, several thousand people into one square mile, but honestly not much worse than Los Angeles used to be, back before the world died and reanimated again.

Life had fallen back into a rhythm again. People got up, got ready for the day. Kids were sent off to school, adults took themselves to various jobs, though there were fewer sales people, baristas, and aspiring actors and a lot more guards, scavengers, and farmers these days. There was a brewery down on Larchmont and a still over on Monroe. Burns Park let people enjoy a bit of nature where the kids could run around and burn off steam and a Gold's Gym practically against the Big Wall. That was where the Unbreakables spent most of their free time, with curious gawkers watching them put more and more weight onto the machines.

It was a bustling little community of survivors, as safe as a place could be, surrounded on all sides by millions of undead waiting to find a way inside to devour them all.

[For them that are there! NFB, and ~~please wait for the~~ OCD is up! Previous entry Next Entry]

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"Well, at least you died like you lived," Dante said, slowing as they got closer to the exes up ahead.

"Surrounded by sexy people?"

Somehow he doubted that was what Dante was going to take from that.

"Desperate and hard up for it?"

Cerberus manifested back in Dante's hand.

"And you call me the asshole," Max sighed. "So, how does that work?" he asked, nodding to Cerberus. "I mean, how do they swap? I understand the general point of nunchucks."

Dante shrugged. "I beat the shit out of them and now they're a part of me?" he offered.

"So you're some kind of Pokemon trainer?" Max asked. "Cute."

Dante rolled his eyes.

"Quiet," he said, "I'll take care of these guys."

And for a weird second there, he found himself thinking of Max as fragile.

Well, he sure as hell wasn't a big rampagey monster anymore.

"Go on," Max said, gesturing Dante forward. "I'd love to watch you work."

Dante rolled his eyes. He slid out from in between the debris, enough pebbles scattering down to catch at least one ex's attention.

"C'mon..."

One ex looked up and started chattering its teeth excitedly. That caught the attention of the others, all of them turning to face Dante and starting to drag themselves forward towards their next meal.

"Suckers," Dante muttered under his breath.

Then he moved, faster than any human and in a direction no human would just go for: straight into the herd of exes.

He whirled Cerberus through the air, the weapon freezing what it couldn't immediately rend. It moved fast, deadly, and unstoppable.

They didn't stand a chance.

(And Dante wasn't even showing off.)

(Dante moving was Dante showing off, let's be real.)

"Huh," said Max, watching the whole ordeal - such as it was - with an expression that was both appreciative and also calculating. It never hurt to know exactly what the people around you were capable of.

What neither of them noticed originally was a much larger group of exes just around the side of a dilapidated building farther down the street. Hearing the commotion, they came staggering out, easily twice as many of the first group and quite likely more.

"Dante!" Max shouted. "Look out!"

Dante jerked aside at the sound of his voice, and just in time - an ex went tumbling right past him. In the process, he noticed the mass moving on the other side.

"Fuck," he growled.

He pushed off immediately, changing directions as he made a mad dash for Max. (It wasn't his health he was worried about, here.)

"Whoa, hey, not the enemy here, I tried to warn you--" Max babbled, holding his hands up at Dante charged at him.

Dante would have rolled his eyes, but he was busy.

Specifically, with grabbing Max's arm, yanking him out of the way of a stray ex, and leaping up to the roof of the building next to them.

One of them here was a potential zombie chew toy. It wasn't Dante.

Look, a half-demon comes running at you with a weapon in hand, you made sure they knew you were a friend. Or at least an ally. Or had generally good intentions.

Something like that.

"Should I be swooning in your arms and calling you my hero?" Max asked, batting his lashes at Dante.

...Especially when, the rest of the time, you were kind of an asshole.

"Try it and I'm gonna knock you out and drag you back to the Mount like a sack of potatoes," Dante said, letting go of his arm. "Do these things get bored, or do I need to go pick 'em off?"

"See if you get a kiss now," Max grumbled. "And--they're exes. They don't have a concept of boredom. Their whole existence revolves around eating and you and I are the only buffet for miles."

He turned slightly and pointed beyond Dante's shoulder. "There, by the way, is Koreatown," he said, pointing at a smear of ash and rubble a little over a quarter mile away. "If the buildings were closer, I'd say we just jump from roof to roof, but they're spread a little far for my ability to parkour."

Dante knew where this was headed and he had to take a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Okay," he said. "I can either take care of the mob downstairs or I can carry you over there."

... Right, he was walking to the edge of the roof to peer down at the exes. He could take those.

Hey now! Max didn't actually know about Dante's full Swiss Army Arsenal here!

"Carry me?" Max asked. "What, are you a superball, too?"

"Nah, something else," Dante said.

And then he was gone-- right off the roof, into the middle of the mass of exes.

Groping hands - not Max's - and seeking mouths - again, not Max's - waited for Dante, trying to drag him in, to get a taste of his flesh. They pressed all around him, grasping and clacking their jaws. Filmy gray eyes tracked his every movement.

Dante whirled Cerberus around, slamming the weapon straight into the exes all around him. Freezing, cleaving.

He wasn't concerned about the way their jaws snapped at him; just the way their flesh parted under the weapon.

He'd be fine.

What else was there for Max to do but take a seat on the edge of the building and call down random suggestions?

"Oooh, nice swing! Now get the ugly one! No, I said the ugly one! Don't let the cocksucker on the left get the jump on you!"

A sharp wind blew, carrying a cold bite with it. October was coming and a dead city was much chillier than a live one. Max abruptly stopped laughing, drawing his arms around himself and shivering.

It didn't take long for the exes to go down. By the time Dante found himself leaping back up the building, the worst of his own damage - a bite across his lower arm - was already fading.

"Guess we can get back to it," he started, except something about Max made him swallow back the insult that had wanted to come out next.

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