The Zombie Horde


Albert_icon.jpg Lin_icon.jpg Scrivner_icon.jpg Vette_icon.jpg

Scene Title The Zombie Horde
Synopsis A Halloween party at a graveyard goes very bad and Albert, Lin, Scrivner and Vette set fire to a zombie horde.

A graveyard in New York

Corpses shamble aimlessly throughout the torn and uprooted earth. Grotesque masks of recently-living individuals mix with grotesque visages of rotted and withered corpses reanimated after years, decades or even centuries of interment. Cop cars sit empty with cherry tops flashing in the night air, casting eerie shadows across the landscape as they twist and distort the bodies they light. Radios in the cop cruisers crackle with voices requesting response, but no officers approach the vehicles to call back to dispatch. Either the mortals have all evacuated or they've all been turned, no screams can be heard in the empty night air.

Arriving first on-scene is Albert, crossing the line into town. As he scans the disaster zone, he nervously laughs. "Halloween," he groans, trying to keep his stomach from turning inside-out and leaving through his mouth. "The greatest time of the year. Oh, man."
Albert glances at the nearest zombie. He judges the defenses before pulling out his newly-gained mace. "Thanks Haldor and Maia," he says quietly to himself before yelling an incomprehensible word at the living-dead. He swings the mace as hard as he can at it, attempting to turn turn it into the dead-dead.

Upon landing a blow powerful enough to snap a giant's back, Albert's mace splatters the zombie's head like a melon at a Gallagher concert. The action draws the attention of a few more zombies milling about the open street and adjacent graveyard nearby. They start to converge on the source of the disturbance. An uncountable mass of zombies still remains shambling about.

When he heard word of something happening at the graveyard, Scrivner had two reactions. He groaned, contemplated staying home…. and then he changed out of his expensive suit into jeans and an old sweatshirt. He comes running along into the graveyard with his sword already drawn and in his hands, eyes narrowed. He's ready for a fight. He's ready to kick some zombie butt… no matter how bad it stinks. When he sees how many are there…. He stops for a second. "… Bloody Hell." But seeing movement around Albert's area, he goes diving towards there, lifting his sword and slashing at the nearest walking corpse.

The sword slices cleanly through the zombie, sending the torso flopping to the ground. Thick and gooey blood sputters out into the street from the flailing upper body. The groans and thrashing quickly subside as the corpse bleeds everywhere.

Having heard of the trouble over the radio, Lin rides up to the town. Graveyard, huh? That is definitely his area. He pulls his car up to the parked police cruisers, climbing out of his car with his wooden sword in hand. He looks upon the shambling group before looking at the object in his hand. "I hope this helps with Zombies too, Pop." He says outloud. Seeing that they are moving in two directions, He points to a direction. "Left!" He charges to the group, swinging his sword.

The sword cuts through necrotic flesh, but glances off bone without dropping the shambling corpse. In response, it groans loudly and a thick, vile stream of black liquid bubbles from its mouth to run down its chin and throat. The horde of zombies splits in three directions now, converging on Albert, Lin and Rufus with hungry groans.

When Vette arrives, she skids to a halt outside of the graveyard…and frowns. "Well," she murmurs. "If they're going insane and there's that many, there must be a reason why." And buff as Rufus and the other two apparent Scions are, she's not sure 'Wow, that's a lot of zombies' vs. 4 Scions is a tenable situation. So she looks for a tall grave, a tree, or a high wall to climb on so that she can get a better vantage point and begin searching for the /source/ of the problem.

So. Many. Zombies. Albert frowns at the mob, trying to figure out what to do next. He finally decides that there is no time to think, and lets his mace do the thinking. The obvious choice is made, as Albert swings the mace at the nearest zombie. "Die," he yells. "And stay dead this time!"

Another zombie is splattered by the sheer force of Albert's massive mace, gore sprays like a fountain into the air and splatters across the street. Zombies groan and rumble as they start to converge on Albert. The sudden eruption of violence from his direction apparently is very interesting!

Lin watches as the wood cuts through the flesh before stops at the bone. "Ugh." He pulls the blade out quickly before trying to follow up with a swing towards the neck. He keeps a careful eye out, making sure he isn't being surrounded as he goes for the swing.
When one zombie falls, he simply steps over the bleeding, oozing corpse with barely a glance for it. The heavy sword's long blade is swept about in an arc, brought to bear on the next, and he very faintly smiles as he advances. This is kind of fun. But he can't forget the /sheer numbers/ of the horde. So. Bloody. Many. Quietly, he's hoping Vette figures out something soon, trusting that she's smart enough to do something other than flail and run into trees. Ichor wells up and through his skin, giving him a metallic sheen not unlike pewter. Then he lifts his sword, and he attacks the next. Lather, rinse, repeat.

As soon as Vette sees the pattern, she decides she needs to get a closer look. But what she does not want to do is leap down into the zombies. Fortunately, she can run like a Wire Fu master. She will use that particular knack to get to a tree nearest one of the clumps, so she can see better.

Lin frowns and looks around. With so many Zombies, he can't cut through all of them. Not this way. He looks back to the cars and gets an idea. He runs back in the direction of the police cruisers. He "appropriates" one. He checks, keys? Shotgun?

Albert grins as he sees the zombie explode from the impact of his mace. "I love this thing," he says quietly. His smile quickly disappears, however, as he remembers the gravity of the situation. "Right. I'm fighting a mob… maybe I can take more than one out at a time."
Albert pulls his mace back, as if he was playing baseball, and swings in an exaggerated arc, attempting to strike as many as possible with one motion.

Zombies are quite honestly, no match for Albert. They are soft and rotten and squishy. It's like pitting a pumpkin against Mike Tyson. Except the pumpkin would be doing the ear biting, apparently? Who knows. Meanwhile! Lin, does, in fact, find a shotgun inside the cruiser. However, there are no keys in it. Maybe one of the zombies out there is a copper with a pair that will start it. It would be a long search…

Hack 'n slash! It's /great/ stress relief. And after awhile, the zombies all sort of look alike. Snarling, Rufus slashes hard in broad strokes, aiming for decapitations or severing them at the waist. As he walks and as he fights, he looks around, searching for some sign of Vette. Where can she /be?/

Vette stares at this cocoon for a long moment, frowning. That doesn't tell her how to stop this, so she can only collect more data. At first she thinks about hanging upside down in the tree to try to slice off a bit with her harpy talon daggerbut then she realizes what a big /falling/ risk that represents. She gets out of the tree instead and goes dashing towards the cocoon. She cuts off a hunk of this alienesque membrane and then draws back in disgust at the brownish-green glop. "What the??"

Something inside the cocoon begins to stir immediately after Vette slices open it. A large and powerful mass writhes under the necrotic membrane. Groaning can be heard as it starts to awaken from slumber. Or prepares to be born, in a perverse sense.

Finding the shotgun, Lin grabs it up and any extra shells in the car. He slides out and heads back in the direction of the Zombies. "Hey! Over here!" He yells at them. He cocks the shotgun before starting to blast the Zombies. "Say hello to my little friend! I always wanted to say that."

Several zombies fall to Lin's shotgun blasts. Wads of buckshot rip through soft, squishy once-human bodies, and tear apart older, dried up husks. Vette, on the other hand, is going to have a lot of things to worry about in the near future, judging by the massive undead flesh that bursts from the cocoon, sending greasy blobs of zombie birth-goo in all directions. It's vaguely humanoid, hugely muscled and wields a pair of fists each the size of a Geo Metro. Its first action immediately after coming forth into the world is to roar furiously in Vette's direction, sending mouthfuls of bile spraying towards her in a putrid aerosol.

Sagging and sighing wearily, Albert says to himself, "They're never going to end, are they? Man, I better - "
Then Albert heard the roar. "What the crud was that," he asks nobody in particular. He then catches a glimpse at the hideous monstrosity that just came out of the cocoon. This was it! A viable target. If he could defeat it, maybe the zombies would stop. He shoved many out of his way as he could, swung his mace in an upward arc, and jumped as far towards it as he can. While airborn, he pulls his left hand holding the mace to his right side, so he can swing at the creature when he lands.

Isn't she lovely? As graceful as a gazelle, leaping from branch to branch, and some part of him is quite appreciative of that. Most of Rufus' mind is spent in slashing at the creatures that come for him, but when he spots her dipping low, disappearing momentarily and that /thing/ bursting out…. The man snarls and focuses, then he leaps up into the air and takes flight. "Yvette!" he bellows, as he comes soaring forward as fast as he can, sweeping back his sword. "Get out of there! Yvette! Run!" He's coming up on Big, Bad and Ugly with very violent intent.

The undead behemoth whips one of its car-sized fists against Albert, crashing against him and glancing off his shoulder with a thud so loud the sound alone seems capable of shattering mortal bones and bursting mortal hearts. Thick whips of greasy, slippery afterbirth (afterunbirth?) splatter about as the glistening muscular monstrosity thrashes with rage. Corpses are flung in many directions as it whips its arms back to roar in fury.

Vette flings up her arms and widens her eyes. She dives to the ground and rolls. She moves sideways and shoves zombies in the way of the spray. So much for analysis! She leaps over a fallen tombstone and relocates behind it, panting for a moment. Ooooooh shit.
With the large roar, Lin looks around and spots the big uglie. "Great, just great." He mumbles. Once Lin has cleared himself a space, he drops the shotgun. He reaches into his jacket for his pistol and brings it up to aim at the Uglie. He squares his jaw and locks his arm into place as aims for the eyes.

Vette fumbles out her gun and fires over the tombstone. The bullet just hits the tree, shaking down leaves. Her hand is shaking so bad that she can barely aim; and the thing is flailing all over the place. This is /not/ a scientific triumph today.
The bullet Lin squeezes off buries itself in the side of the thrashing beast, but the bullet seems to have no effect on the monster that bears down on Albert with all its unliving anger.

Albert seems momentarily dazed, but quickly snaps out of it. "Crud," he groans, looking at the monster that just clobbered him. "This guy is tough. I have to find some way of hurting this guy." He quickly looked around, but found nothing useful.

Finally, Albert is fed up. He swings his mace wildly at the monster, yelling, "Come on, you stupid, underdeveloped, mutant bag of puss! Bring it on!"

The mace from Albert glances off the raging beast once more. And once again the monster swings its fist down on Albert, colliding with a blow strong enough to smash granite. Albert is apparently made of harder stuff, as the assault seems to have left him unphased and unbruised.

Rufus Scrivner is doing a rather fine impersonation of a fly as he zips over the body of this creature, attempting to strike at it from behind. Its own attacks and flailings elude him as he roars, the blade of his weapon skimming over air just above its skin. "Bloody Hell!" he snarls. "Hey! You son of a bitch! Behind you! Leave the kid alone!"

Vette abandons the use of her gun and instead creeps back towards the greasy, nasty, goo. She pulls out her lighter and narrows her eyes. She sets the crap on fire and blows on it to make it go, and even as she does, one of the puzzleboxes around her neck takes on a warm, firey glow. She puts all of her focus and concentration into making the flame engulf the thing just as fast as she can make it. Die in a fire, bitch, but she won't waste good concentration time on the line.

With his shot going wide from all of the Zombies, Lin kicks the shotgun back up into his hands. He starts to fall back as he starts to pump blast after blast into them again.

Albert doesn't seem to realize that he was just hit by a powerful, car-sized fist. He just stands there, taunting the creature. "You think you are so tough? I'll show you!" He attempts to strike the creature full force, hoping that it will be enough to hurt it now that it is on fire…
The fire has latched onto the previously-described-as-greasy afterbirth coating the monster and pooling on the ground. It immediately blossoms into a flickering amber tower of muscle and anger. As soon as Albert's grease-coated mace lands on the flaming behemoth, the weapon catches flame. The blow breaks a patch of skin, leaving a seeping wound to leak blood into the burning grease coating its body.

The monster rears back with a furious roar and slams its flaming fists into the dirt in front of it, sending a rippling shockwave tearing through the dirt, sending Albert falling on the quivering ground. Though nearby, Vette's grace permits her to remain standing. After delivering the bow, the monster bounds off into the horde, roaring in panic as fire licks at its limbs and twists into its flesh, blackening the turgid, unliving flesh. Zombies are thrown this way and that, some catching flame as they're smeared with burning mess.

"Oh, good show!" Rufus calls out when that monster goes up in flames. He backs off, hovering in midair to watch this beautiful spectacle. Fire. Yes, bloody good idea in his opinion. His eyes dart around the graveyard, taking in a few details he'd glossed over and forgotten about in his mad rush to go hack and slash. Cop cars. Petrol. Petrol burns. Sweeping his sword back into its sheath, he gathers himself and then soars down towards Vette, holding out his arms so that he can scoop her up into his arms and carry her up into the air with him. "Vette," he murmurs, "do you think you could rig up something using more fire and the petrol in the tanks of the police cars?"

Lin dives aside as the big uglie goes stomping by. "Watch what you are doing!" He yells. He looks around as the zombies still come. "Oh, right." He looks around and notices that a few of the zombies are on fire from the stampede. "Ah ha!" He looks around and grabs a rag from one of the deadies. He runs over to the nearest car and tears open the gas cap, pushing it in. He makes sure there is gas on the rag. "Oh booooys." He calls out, waving and shooting a few random shots. "Over here!" As soon as they move, he lights the rag and hides!
"I don't know about rigging," Vette says, "But if you get me close enough, yes, I should be able to set them on fire and spread them to every nasty here. And with there more cocoons—that's just fine by me."

Albert quickly got up… and just as quickly went back down. "Ugh…" he groans… "Man… I'm tired, I'm getting beat around, and now I lost the monster. I'm no use here… but I can help with the zombie problem." He started to walk away, whistling a sad tune while using his mace to light puddles of goo on fire.

The horde of zombies starts to light aflame, the putrefying flesh catching fire as the horde shambles about, frightened. Albert's firestarting makes things even worse. And the tie that has been burning into the car gas tank for the last few seconds seems to reach the reservoir in the cruiser. The explosion sends shrapnel tearing through nearby zombies and a spray of burning fuel lashes a swath of corpses, igniting them and adding to the conflagration.

Rufus easily soars over the heads of the zombies and comes to land beside one of the other police cruisers, bending his knees to set Vette gently down upon the ground. He backs off a few steps to give her room to work, looking around behind him. "What do you want me to do?" he asks, eyeing that biiiiig monster in particular.

"Be ready to fly me out again." Vette says, as she works on making the fires /even better and bigger/ because she wants those cocoons burnt as much as they'll burn, thank you very much. Even if it means her new nickname is Collateral Damage.

The fires grow and spread through the horde. Large cocoons catch flame easily as flaming zombies collapse ontop of them, still working at some predesigned action despite the flames licking at their undead flesh. Newer bodies, decked in party-going costumes burn easily, all the cheap material a major fire hazard. And the dried up husks that have dug their way out of the ground catch flame just as quickly. And when the putrid grease sprays from the cocoons when they burst like a hotdog exploding in the microwave, flame spreads faster through the shambling mass.

He will be. Rufus steps in and takes the lady when she has finished at each site, carrying her to the next one, only to take her up again and guide her through the mess. But as the flames roar higher and spread farther, the lifts her up into the air and drifts away from the thick, black stinking smoke to watch the burninating of the graveyard. His lip curls in distaste, and he mutters, "What could have /caused/ this?"

"I don't know," Vette says grimly. "Maybe some sort of infusion of Titan power. Chances are I've sacrificed us finding out with the use of flame as a solution, but it didn't look like we were spoiled for choice. I'll be surprised if any evidence has survived." She stares down at their handiwork, grimacing as she hears those greasy pods splatter.

Any remaining unburnt corpses are shambling off alone, easily able to be picked off during a clean-up sweep. The more pressing matter may be the huge bulk of charred bodies that litter the graveyard and surrounding streets. In the distance, a large group of approaching sirens can be heard…

Here comes the cavalry. "Bloody Hell," Rufus hisses, looking back over his shoulder. He sweeps Vette away and out of the graveyard, setting her down, before he reaches up to draw his sword again. "Go on, my dear, further up the street. I'll take care of those last few stragglers and then we'll go home."

Lin slowly peeks his head up after the explosion and fire. He looks around, picking off a straggler here or there. He sighs out and brushes his pants off. "We won?" He says to himself. He looks up as Rufus flies by and then the direction of the sirens. "Let's see…cover story…Mass Grave..un..defiling?" He thinks outloud to himself as he starts to walk in the direction of the sirens.

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