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"Why not?" Evan shot back at the short hooded boy. "Anything can be used as a weapon. Better yet, the right combination of household chemicals can make one hell of a bomb," he continued with glee, not recalling how, exactly, he knew that, but eager nonetheless to try it out.

He didn't stop the kid when he took off towards his room, thinking that two would be easier to protect than three and hoping, quietly, that if there were zombies, they would go after the lone wolf before the pack. "Good luck," he said instead.

"We'll go this way," he told the other girls, starting off in the other direction. He peered into open doors as they went down the hall, checking quickly for something that might be of use and moving on when he found nothing. Eventually they wound up at the end, finding no more bedrooms, but one unoccupied common room-type area. There were a couple of couches, some generic, fake potted plants, and--perfect--tables of various sizes.

Evan took an obscene amount of joy in picking up one of the smaller end tables by one leg and throwing it against the wall. It splintered with a satisfying crunch, and Evan's grin turned a little manic as he went to retrieve a pair of the legs. They were jagged where they had once connected to the table. Evan picked the two sharpest-looking ones before returning to the girls, offering the table legs to them as if they were ice cream cones and not blunt objects. "Hit anything that looks like it might be a zombie," he instructed as the lights went out. "Don't stop until it quits moving."

The girl he’d hit was pretty cool. The other girl standing next to her? Eeeh. He lazily smiled at her and shrugged. “I just wanted to see if I could use it as a weapon. I haven’t got anything else in my room to use,” admitted Wilson. Arms still out, he paused thoughtfully. “I think I have some weird books that I could use too. They look pretty heavy (and boring. Monsters, really…??) but they look so nice. Seems like such a waste.” He walked up to Eva and slung an arm around her shoulder like it was completely natural and lazily leaned against her.

Half-lidded eyes lit up somewhat when he noticed the dagger in Misty’s hand. He grinned and pointed toward the weapon. “Ooh! Lucky. Maybe if I dig through the piles of clothes I could find something like that in my room…?”

He squinted at Gale. While he had the decency to say nothing he was obviously wondering who let this kiddo into the place after taking a look at the other people gathered, buuut whatever. Maybe he was a prodigy or something??

Clutching the pipe in her hands, she watched for any sign of danger approaching, though she was unsure of how long she would survive against zombies with just a pipe. Thankfully, there were a crowd of other people with her, so at least they weren't alone in this.

Jumping slightly as someone practically whispered to her, she shook her head as she turned to face the other girl standing beside her. "I'm not sure.. I'm not even sure what I'm doing here. But, someone said something about zombies, and there was that alert about biohazard specimens on the loose..?" Yeah, they were screwed.

The shorter blonde boy received a look when he asked about mops and brooms as weapons. The look said clearly that she thought it was a silly question. She agreed with Mr. Military, anything could be used as a weapon with enough imagination or a large enough will to keep alive.

She was not very fond of the idea of splitting up, so when Hubba Bubba ran off to go search the room he'd woken up in she gave an uneasy groan. He'd run off before she could really say anything to stop him, and she was left with Dog tags and Braids. Frowning, she glanced towards the pair, sizing them up, before they began to move down the hall.

The rooms they could get into provided little in the way of weaponry. It seemed like no one in this damn place had any need or desire to defend themselves? It was all really weird.

The lights going out had been down right alarming, but at least there were emergency lights. The muffled and distant sounds of thuds and screams were not comforting things..

When Dog tags had the brilliant idea to bust up a few tables for the legs, the tiny blonde grinned, happily accepting the makeshift club. "That's what I'm talking about." The sharp end was smacked a couple times into her palm to test for strength and whacking potential, and the tiniest of grins slid over her lips.

When Hoodie reappeared the short girl let out an obvious sigh of relief. Lavender eyes took him in, apparently searching for any signs of bites or scratches, before landing on the skateboard. "Nice find." A skateboard could be useful for a get away. Sure, it was only a one man sort of ride.. But still. Better then nothing.

He hoped they were not siblings, as that would have been rather.. awkward. The mention of scars on his back had him looking in the mirror. Those were some.. interesting marks to be sure. ".... well if they are.. must have been good." The picture got a look, more curious than anything. "Pretty sure we're not siblings, and now wondering if maybe those marks on my back were a bit intentional." There was an edge of playfulness in his tone- Though it was drowned out by the sudden jarring message from ******** all.

"Well that sounds fun." There were no visible weapons but a quick check down the hall found a crowbar, some kind of medical kit, thick gloves, power tools- He wanted to grab them all.

The crowbar seemed the best bet however. That and the gloves.

He realized that getting fully dressed might help to.
"...............I guess I'm a fight in my boxers kind of guy?" He shrugged. He had no idea what was going on.

"You can borrow this one if you like- there's other stuff t-" Suddenly, the lights went out, and Scarface gave a sudden panicked yelp. The emergency lights thankfully saved them all from a startled scream, but he had dropped the useless runic torch all the same.

Scrambling to pick it up and pocket the steak knife, he managed a weak, "Yes, yes, that sounds like... like a good idea- go where everyone is probably getting eate-" Again, he was cut off as the ground distantly shook.

Scarface didn't need to be told again. He clutched the knife ahead of him and ran for the hallway and stairs. "M-m-maybe-aybe there's a.. a p-panic room or something!!" He called behind him, figuring 'John' and 'Killer' would be close behind if they were smart.

Bill stared and felt strangely let down.

Killer nodded at Uni in agreement before considering quietly that what if zombies are scared of ukuleles. Movies were movies, but then this wasn't a movie so... things could be quite different. He clenched his table leg tighter as the power went out and lights shifted gear, "******** followed Uni and Scarface closely as they all headed towards the halls. At the very least, they could all agree cowering in a bedroom waiting to die to zombies did not appeal.





Hot Bod nodded at Sweet a** in agreement, "Ready." 'cept she wasn't. She was terrified and trembling at the knees as a result. The knife was more of a weapon than the cleaners and yet she still hated the thought of getting close enough to zombies to use it. No, just no. She kept close behind Sweet a**. He had range, so...