ArchivedLogs:Zombie Bowling and Death Frisbee

Zombie Bowling and Death Frisbee
Dramatis Personae Anette, Simon, Steve	2015-12-02 "I could do with you looking out for me more often." (Part of the Flu Season TP)
Location <NYC> Brooklyn
The most populous of the boroughs, Brooklyn has nothing if not character. With a thriving music and arts scene, and a distinctive New York slant to its stereotypical gritty accents, Brooklyn ranges from the high-cultured to the very much working class. From botanical gardens to beachfronts, Manhattanites might like to think their borough is the only one that matters, but Brooklyn has a lot to offer of its own. Air dropped supplies were very big draw for people that were running low on things like food. And even with the option to sneak beyond the quarentine available to him, Simon made a point to grab a few boxes of medication while he was out scrounging for supplies. Every little bit could help. In jeans, a deep purple jacket, and baseball cap on his head, the young mutant man has moved away from the area of the drop itself and is currently crouching next to a wrecked bus stop shelter as he stuffs the medicine into his backpack. He's yet to notice that some zombies have been attracted to the location and a few are shuffling their way towards him. The supply drop sites are of course known to the city's zombie patrols in advance and guarded accordingly, but there are always more crises than volunteers to deal with them, and this particular drop site has just lost two of its patrol squads to deal with an emergency the next neighborhood over, leaving only a skeleton crew to defend this drop Wearing a brown leather jacket over a rather chewed-up red-and-black plaid flannel shirt and somewhat less chewed-up blue jeans, Steve is standing on top of a city parking enforcement SUV that has been repurposed to transporting zombie patrol volunteers, scanning the eager crowds. He has his trademark shield of red, white and blue strapped to his left forearm, and a long knife sheathed at his hip. When he spots the zombies, he kneels down and knocks on a window of the vehicle beneath him, directing the driver's attention to the unwelcome but expected visitors. Then he hops easily off of the SUV and crosses the street at a brisk walk, nodding to Simon politely before letting his shield fly. It sails through the air like a patriotic frisbee. A /deadly/ patriotic frisbee, as it embeds itself into the nearest zombie's face. Blending in with a long leather coat and matching gloves, Anette makes her way through the street, carrying handled shopping bags from high-end department stores. Of course, they're filled with less luxury items and more food and necessary supplies, both from the air supplies and less...honest sources. Still, she walks down the street as if she's merely returning from a high end shopping trip, though yellow eyes scan the area, keepning an eye out for any potential problems. The only immediate thing she sees is Simon crouched near the bus stop. "{Hey kid}," she says in German. "{How'd you manage?}" she asks, giving a nod towards his loot. Then she's interupted by a flying shield whizzing past, and straight into what she had thought was another looter. In a flash, she's dropped her bags and knelt down, slipping out a carefully hidden knife from her boot and instinctively stepping closer to Simon. Safety in numbers. Someone speaking in German has Simon looking up quickly. It's not a common language in this city in his experience. The familiar voice and the familiar person it belongs to makes him offer a small, forced smile. "{I picked up some medicine from the drop. And...}" there's that shield, Simon letting out a startled little yelp. He stares up at Steve with wide eyes once he recognizes him as the source of the frisbee of death, just managing a little nod in greeting to him. No reaching for a weapon for Simon even if he's got a heavy-looking wrench hanging off his belt. Steve retrieves his shield from the inert zombie just in time to slam it into the next one up, knocking it flat on its back before running a knife through its eye socket. "{Team two, go behind them,}" he calls in Spanish, waving over two of the patrol people who have been dispatched from the drop site. Then, to Anette and Simon in rough but oddly precise German, "{If you can fight, please help. We are not many here. Don't want them to get to where supplies are still being distributed.}" Glancing over towards the source of the death frisbee, Anette gives Steve a glance over. "{You threw that?}" she asks, clearly impressed. She looks over towards the hoarde, yellow eyes scanning the group before nodding. "{As long as you can remember who the enemy is,}" she says, slipping out of her coat and stretching her wings out. With a powerful beat, she's up in the air flying toward the hoard and kicking the closest zombie square in the face. While Anette flies into battle, Simon shrinks back a little. The zombies may be scaring him less but he still isn't used to the blood and gore of actually fighting them. He pulls his backpack on and looks around. "{I'm...I'm not much of a fighter,}" he continues in German, wincing as he watches Anette's kick. "{But I can help...to get away from trouble if you need it,}" he offers but doesn't explain. "{The enemy...?}" Steve says, perplexed. Pale blue eyes grow a bit wider when Anette takes flight, but he doesn't let surprise keep him from the battle for long, whirling around to knock another zombie back and toward one of the patrol members while cleaving another's head nearly off with the edge of his shield. "{You don't have to fight,}" he tells Simon through gritted teeth as he kicks a zombie back away from him, "{whatever your reason.}" The one he just pushed back is emitting the low rattle that calls others to them. "{But if you might want to consider...an exit. If you already have what you need.}" Pushing another zombie to the ground, Anette lands on his chest, one foot pressed against its throat while she leans down and sticks the knife through the zombie's skull. Pulling it out, she turns around, turning around towards Simon as he protests his abilities to help. "{No one would blame you. But if you can, it would be...}" She spins towards a zombie that had been approaching behind her, slicing the zombie's throat which, though doesn't kill it, distracts in momentarily, "{...appreciated.}" She stabs this skull before returning to the air before she's surrounded, having attracted a few of them towards her. "{Perhaps relocating some of them?}" When its suggested, Simon looks for a moment like he might take an exit. But he glances at Anette and frowns. If she weren't around, he probably would flee. He glances at some of the zombies and curses quietly in German before putting his wrench back onto his belt. At first it looks like he really is going to flee as he sinks into the sidewalk itself and vanishes from sight. A few moments later, especially sharp eyes will find a pair of hands emerging from the sidewalk and each one grabbing a zombie ankle. Zombies that are soon pulled into the sidewalk as well. Another delay and two more zombies disappear in the same manner. Who knows where Simon is hiding those zombies though. Steve has just let his shield fly again when the zombie he was targeting disappears into the sidewalk, leaving only empty air. "{Heads up!} he cries in Spanish, alerting the other pair of patrol volunteers on the other side of the rapidly shrinking pack of zombies. The shield sails between them and strikes a light post. Both post and shield ring--one low and resonant, the other bright and clear--as the latter ricochets and spins off toward the crowd gathering around the drop site further up the street. Undaunted, Steve sprints unbelievably fast and leaps up--easily ten feet--to snatch the shield out of the air. Lands just in time to see the last zombie vanish into the ground. Raises one eyebrow. "Huh." Anette circles above the group, watching Steve's latest move with wide eyes and a faint grin. "Not bad..." she calls out, suddenly diving down towards one of the oulying zombies. Slipping her hands underneath its shoulders, she scoops him up, taking it into the sky. Twenty feet up she drops him, carefully choosing a cluster of zombies away from any volunteers. "We'd make a great team," she yells to Steve, landing beside him with a grin, clearly enjoying this way more than she should. After a few moments, Simon reappears on the sidewalk. He leans against a wall, catching his breath and looking up at the others. Eyes go wide when he sees Anette perform a zombie-drop. Watching the results, he frowns. "{I didn't think of that...}" he trails off. "{How many more are there?}" he calls to whoever has the better view. "{Just those, I think,}" Steve replies in German, indicating the little cluster Anette just bowled over, then calls in Spanish to team two, "{Check the perimeter, please.}" He jogs over to the remaining zombies. The one Anette had dropped has broken too many bones to really locomote anymore, though it writhes around all the same. Steve plows his way through the little pack, sends two of them tumbling so they do not surround him and dispatches another two with shield and knife in short order. The last one remaining, however, does finally manage to grab him from behind and sink its teeths into his shoulder. As the horde begins to deminish, Anette begins to relax keeping to the ground more and sticking with hand-to-hand combat to finish them off. "Not bad," she calls out as Simon does his dissappearing zombie act, giving him a congratulatory grin. Her grin immediately falls as the zombie sneaks up on Steve. Instantly, she's airborne again, piggy-backing onto the zombie's back. Somehow mid flight, the gloves have come off, revealing the talons beneath which grip tightly on the zombies head. With as much force possible, she rips the zombies free from Steve's shoulder and tackling it to the ground to slam it's head onto the sidewalk. Leaving finishing off the zombies to the others, Simon pushes off the wall and steps forward to at least help spot any zombies that need to be dispatched. Anette ends up making him blush a little and he nods. When Steve gets snacked on, Simon jumps. Anette beats him to attacking which is probably for the best so Simon instead focsues on Steve's wounds. Jaw clenched, he's already reaching for the bandana around his neck so he can offer it to Steve to press to the bite. The zombie that Anette tears off of Steve appears to be the last one in the immediate area...at least for now. The patrol team is flashing them a thumbs up from the end of the block to indicate an all-clear. Steve is not bleeding /very/ badly, as the zombie's teeth caught as much of his collar as his actual flesh. The wound is shallow but messy, and Steve swallows the growl rising in his throat as Simon offers the bandana. Takes several deep breaths. Looks up for a moment, closes his eyes. Then, in German, "{The supply team has a pair of medics.}" He nods back toward the drop site. "{I should let them take care of this. Thank you both for stepping up.}" He nods gratefully to Simo, and turns to offer smile Anette a smile, as well. "{In a time like this, we must all look out for each other.}" Anette stands up from her splattered handiwork, wiping zombie slime off her hands and onto her jeans. She pauses a momentarily seemingly staring into space, her head twisting as she focuses on different areas before acknowledging the others again. She glances towards Steve's wound, giving a slight nod. "You'll live..." she murmurs in agreement, glancing towards Steve. "Are you heading back...home right away?" she calls out to Simon, "I'll head back with you. Shouldn't be traveling alone." Before she rejoins the other, she glances towards Steve, grinning. "I could do with you looking out for me more often." The growl makes Simon frown but he nods to Steve's words. He stays quiet until Anette speaks up though. "{We should go before they...}" he gestures at the broken and destroyed zombies, "{are replaced,}" he makes a point of not looking at any of the corpses. He offers a small smile to Steve and gestures for Anette to lead the way away from the sight of the carnage.