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 Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 2:08 pm
[ E-4 Entering from The Lounge/Bulletin Board ]
In hindsight, E-4 really needed to stop leaping into situations without thinking them through first. First she had signed herself up for this game (which she was sure she wouldn't have had she considered what it would entail), then she signed up for the minesweeper game, and now she was...a zombie.
Then again, that was to say that the current E-4 had the ability of hindsight. The fact was that she wasn't really feeling like herself, and instead of analyzing the situation and freaking out as she would normally do, there was only one thing on her mind: braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains.
In addition to this, her body felt awkward--almost rickety--and all she could utter was a very grumbly "graaaaaaaaah". Yeah, they had been brought back to life, but not in the way E-4 had initially imagined.
Oh well, not like it mattered now. What did matter was that she was hungry.
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 4:15 pm
((E-3 is entering from Lounge / Bulletin Board (Aren't they, like, the same place? XD;;; ) ))
E-3 was pretty sure that coming back to life had NOT been this painful last time she'd done it. But then again, her last re-birth/whatever might have been a fluke, but...
She was pretty stinkin' sure it hadn't been this painful.
That wasn't the only thing that stinked (although she wasn't sure. her nose wasn't really in the condition it needed to be to smell something.) about this situation though. Looking down at herself and her 'new body', she realized, that A) she was not herself, B) she was deteriorating, and C) that, if she could smell, she'd notice that an icky smell was probably either from her or someone around her. She couldn't really tell. Her mind was preoccupied by other thoughts.
Like brains. Brainnnnnnnnns.
Wait, why was she drawling? She looked around, noticing that she really wanted some brains to munch on. And noticed signs. Reading them rather quickly (after all, she understood sign language now) she looked around, noticing pink. PINK~ She KNEW there was something important about pink...what was it, what was itttt....OH. Groups, right. EPSILON PINK, HER TEAM. She remembered, and was proud of that.
But then she got distracted by the thought of brains again. The signs said she had friends and could get brains up the hill. Teamwork would render more brains, right? And if anything, E-3 wanted BRAINS.
Hobbling slowly over to her team-mates, she issued a greeting to her pink-glowing friends that consisted generally of, "Graaahhgrah~"
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 4:32 pm
[ Stigma 3 entering FROM GOD KNOWS WHERE BUT IT WASNT GOOD.]
Blood soaked hands stained the bony figure, her gorgeous rib cage viewed for the world to see. Not that there was much in it .. except bits.. of whatever that was. Stigma Three had cravings. Serious cravings. Cravings that the world couldn't fulfill.
Or could it?!
What she wanted was a delicious shade of pink. Dotted with several flecks of red-- it couldn't be too old, too grayed or too undercooked. Did they cook it? She wasn't sure. How could she describe her perfect craving, the pink blob with squiggles and leaking red juice? It stared with a 'buh.'
Buh .. trains?
Buh .. nane?
NO. IT WAS BUH-RAINSSSSSS.
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 4:37 pm
((Zeta Seven is entering from the death lounge, bulletin board))
They always said go into the light, go into the light. The light isn't the most comfortable thing to walk into. Seven felt like he was in a washing machiene getting ragdolled around into positions that just shouldn't be possible. Seven could have sworn that he could touch his toes with out moving a single finger at one point, until it just stopped, bang. Rinse cycle over.
He wavered on his feet as he felt all his limbs in their proper place, in a place that didn't look like a bar. all that was there was strange terrain, and even stranger looking suits. It didn't look like the suit he came across before, darker and a bit morbid. He should be worried about the strange things. He should have been alarmed by the possibility that he looked the same. But he could care less.
The only thing he felt was a gnawing emptiness in his belly. You'd think he hasn't had a morsel to eat in a week from the way his stomach protested to its barren area. Sure it was true, but it never mattered till now.
He ached to chew on something tough and meaty. "Graah..." He rumbled out in response to his hunger. It wasn't exactly what he wanted to say but again, not caring.
With an careless lurch he started stumbling slowly over to the others. It was safe to say that he may be "Alive", but it certainly wasn't human. "Graahh, grah?" it felt like playing charades with the others as he asked them about food and meat. Maybe it would be easier to convey his request in song?
Steve walks warily down the street,
with the brim pulled way down low
Ain't no sound but the sound of his feet,
machine guns read-
Wait wrong song...
BRAINS, BRAINS, I won't lie,
I'll eat their brains 'til they're zombified.
Sure they might think it's deranged
But they won't give it a thought
After I've eaten they’re brain.
BRAINS, BRAINS, It's okay.
It's not a matter if it isn't gray,
And if at first they think it's strange,
they won't think twice
If they don't have a brain!
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 6:40 pm
[Stigma 2 entering from somewhere that probably sucked.]
Stigma 2 had no idea how long they'd been out. Out? Out where? Didn't know that either. They lifted one hand to examine it. Bloody claws sprouted from what might have been a hand, at the end of an arm that consisted mostly of bone and little tatters of muscle.
Spiffy.
They were neither upset nor excited. What they were was hungry. Considering the gaping void below the half-bared ribcage that made up their torso, that was probably abnormal. Or maybe it was totally normal. They had to fill that space with something, after all.
They studied the sign with vague interest. Brains that way, five paths, don't run. Worked for them. They looked around without much curiosity. Most of the zombies here looked similar to one another, with minor color variations. Very few of them looked like Stigma 2.
There was one over there. Stigma 2 shambled over towards Stigma 3. "Gra ... aahhhh," they said by way of greeting.
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 7:19 pm
(( yVII entering from...deeeeath~ ))
Gamma Seven had expected a whole lot of nothing, especially with the later going through the door thing. What he found instead though, was the feeling of being pulled and stretched, and suddenly it was all over...but it was far from right. No matter how hard he tried to freak out, he just...didn't care.
"...Graaaah?" No talking, either?! Oh, well, whatever. He looked over at the cloaked figure, and where he would normally have reacted, he just...meh. Cloaked figure was there. He felt weird, but any of these realizations did not, for a moment, matter.
Not an ounce of caring was had.
Well, there was one thing he definitely felt; hunger. It was the only thing he really felt and cared about. He wanted...something. He wasn't quite sure yet. Huh. Hobbling over slowly to the signs, looking at them. Oooo, pictures. They were helpful, and it definitely explained a few things. Things like he wanted Brains...and he knew where to get them, now!
Shuffling over towards Zombie Gamma Two (strictly because the colour looked familiar), he gestured lazily towards the base, murmuring a low grumbling 'graaa...aah'.
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 7:29 pm
[ A7 entering from the Death Lounge Bulletin Board. You're not ready for this. I'm not naming names so you can choose if you took part or not.] The hunger. That was it's past, present, and future. The creak of a body pushing itself up to it's feet, testing out the strength of it's rotting limbs, and pressing mangled covered hands to the mask it still wore. Still wore. Yes, it wore this mask before. It couldn't remember never wearing a mask. It couldn't remember anything but the hunger. It rolled it's head, feeling the crunch of flesh underneath, and lifted it's hands up restlessly pointing towards the one place it knew it wanted to be. The hunger told it to go there. The hunger would be satiated if it could just reach. Red and black. The gloves and arms it now stared at were red and black, and not just from the blood and decay covering it. No, there was something familiar about this color scheme. Something it was supposed to remember. Red. The blood of angry- no, that wasn't it. Red. The color of a bird. A bird. A phoenix. A7 jolted at the shifty memories of the past few days, hovering just in and out of his mind. Every time he remembered something, someone, the hunger reminded him that none of it mattered. None of it. His shoulder twitched. There was something else toying with his memory. Something much harder to remember. So much farther away than the Alpha Squad and Phoenix Unit. It was so far away, he couldn't understand what he was doing as his shoulder twitched again. Beside him, a few of the multitude of zombie companions mimiced his movement automatically. They were watching him. Mimicing him. Moving with him. His arms lifted in a clawed motion to one side, and the multitude of arms rose in tandem. He hobbled to the right for a few steps, and behind him he heard the shuffle of feet doing the same. With a movement so swift his ankle almost broke clean off, he switched to stomp to his left. His leg slid back up, and his arms snapped above his head in a clap. He heard the reverberation of a dozen claps behind him. That's right. That's what they were supposed to do, wasn't it? Those tasty brains on the other side could see them now, getting pumped up and ready to burst in there. So delicious. So ready for eating. They were coming for you, living fleshies.  "7Hi2 i2 7hriLlER, 7hRiLLeR Nigh7 'cAU2E i Can 7hrILl J00 m0RE 7han AnY GH057 w0ULD Ever DARe 7Ry 7hRIllEr, 7hRILlEr NigH7 50 Le7 meH h0lD J00 7iGH7 And 5HArE A |<1L1Er, DiLLEr, cHiLleR, 7HrIllER hEre 70nIIIIIIIIIGH7.." Even though he'd stopped leading by example with his awesome zombie dance moves, A7's sign language singing was wearing down on his arms. He could feel them creaking, begging for a rest, but the desire to scare the living brains out of those living brains was too strong. He couldn't stop moving, not until they were given the go ahead to shuffle their way down that path and find their sweet, tasty salvation. He heard a voice in his head - was he going mad? Could zombies go mad? It drove him to keep dancing, keep moving, keep traipsing back and forth in solid movements. He wished he could give voice to the creepy words in his head, but not even sign language could do it justice. Darkness falls across the land.
The midnight hour is close at hand.
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize your neighborhood
The foulest stench is in the air.
The funk of forty thousand years.
And grizzly ghouls from every tomb
Are closing in to seal your doom
And though you fight to stay alive,
Your body starts to shiver.Finally, A7 stopped in mid-spin, and straightened from a crouch to mumble as he glared viciously at the dome filled with life ahead. "F0R N0 m3R3 m0r7aL KAn r35157 73H 3V1L 0f 73H 7hR1ll3r."
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 7:50 pm
Blinking as he watched the others gather about, yII soon noticed another olive-eyed zombie. His gaze shifted over towards the base as Z-yVII motioned towards it and he couldn't help but nod. Yes. They should start heading on over soon. But the strangest sensation hit him. spotting movement from one of the red zombies, he turned to watch him.
Something... about those movements compelled him to mimic the acts. Why did this feel so familiar? And why did it feel so... right? Well regardless, he was getting pumped up for starting their raid on the brain buffet down the lane.
He didn't do the sign language, but he was moving his arms and stepping in turn.
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 8:11 pm
The odd, shuffling dance was strangely compelling. Stigma Two didn't know what it was, but they shambled along in time with it, in response to some weird inner urging.
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 8:21 pm
Brains. Brains. Brains? Brains.
Z12's mind was rather preoccupied with brains and all the ways he was going to eat them once he had the chance, but something inside him suddenly stirred. A shuffle to the right, a shuffle to the left, following along with strange arm movements. It was compelling, and also...
....thrilling.
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 8:40 pm
What was probably once Gamma Seven looked at the others as they started to dance. That was...huh. Oddly fitting, for some reason! It took a moment or two for the movements to process through his mind, but once he figured it out he moved right along the rest of them. The one wearing red and black was doing a good job of signing something that felt very familiar, so there was little need for him to sign as well.
The dancing, though. The swaying this way and that, the stumbling shuffle walks, the swinging arm movements...That seemed just right. Not that he could bring himself to care, anyway.
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 8:56 pm
((Entering from the Death Lounge~))
Crushing, snapping, popping of bones. Between the searing flesh from the Death Pony, to her own evisceration not so long before, Zeta eight had done pain -- in fact, agonizing pain seemed to be quickly becoming the norm. But there was nothing quite like this. She could feel her body contorting in a subspace that clearly she did not belong in, limbs bending in the wrong direction, her spine arched back as if she were going to snap in two. Behind her mask, the pressure inside her skull felt like it was liquifying her brain, her eyeballs threatening to pop completely out of her skull until she swore one of them did, feeling it hang by a thread of sinue, slimy against her cheek. She could hear the sound of flesh tearing away from muscle and bone, peeling away in great chunks that seemed to vanish into thin air, as if a monster were devouring her whole. Except she couldn't scream. And it wasn't because her jaw had come unhinged, her tongue lolling out with nothing to support, the taste of decomposing flesh making her feel... feel...
... hungry.
It was hard to tell how long she'd been standing there. She hadn't even realized when the pain had subsided, leaving everything muted except the ache in her gut that she, logically, knew was probably half-hanging out of her body. Surprisingly, she didn't care. She should have -- she distantly remembered caring a great deal about being alive and making things right and surviving... but now all that seemed to matter was that she feed her lust for the taste of flesh, delicious fresh meat. She didn't know much, but she knew it was not the rotting hunks of tongue she wanted to taste, but the juices of grey matter jelly. She wanted to tear something apart, scoop out the brain and squeeze it into her greedy mouth, completely uncaring as to how hunks of flesh and blood would cling to her hand, spill over out of her awaiting mouth...
Zeta Eight opened her eyes to the orange tint she was so used to, not at all disturbed that only her right eye seemed to be working. Except... it wasn't... exactly her eyes. More like... his eyes. Briefly, 'she' took a second to look down at the body she had fully expected to be her old one, finding it in her to be a little put out that it was a DEFINITE male body she had been thrown into. That b*****d didn't even put her together right. Looking 'himself' over, Zeta Eight idly tried to lift the new arm experimentally, only to find it was moderately responsive, AT BEST. At worst, it looked like it was going to fall off. Perfect. How was she supposed to get any nice juicy brains NOW?
She was just about to address Alpha Seven and Alpha Ten when she noticed the guy beside her doing something rather... odd. At first, it seemed as though he was having a seizure -- his muscles seemed to twitch by themselves, something she took a mild, morbid interest in, head tilted a little in it's traditional way as 'she' watched. But soon it was clear that it was definitely on purpose. Staring at Alpha Seven (it had to be him -- he was the only one she knew who would do something like that,) Zeta Eight stayed completely silent as the zombified Alpha hobbled around, beginning to distinctly DANCE in front of her, hiking his leg up as best as he could (rotting limbs could be such a drag,) and signing something... well, it certainly wasn't sign language, anyway.
She didn't say anything. She didn't even grunt. But she did stare at him for a long time before making a half-assed interpretation of one of the moves he had been doing.
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Interesting Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 9:22 pm
Brains.... Call Zeta seven crazy, but he could go for a little bit of grey matter right now.
Saute bits of the lobe in some butter and garlic.... sounds divine. Maybe even a nice chianti to go with it. He wouldn't be picky about eating it raw either, you can just grind it down through his feeding and air tube. He took his time hobbling over to where the others were, as they kept looking over to the structure in the distance. Yes, yes there might be a few morsels there. He wanted to go take a look and see for himself but out of the corner of his eye there was a peculiar movement.
The red lensed zombie was jerking around madly, like it was an seizure. But it was mesmerizing, captivating with shambling grace. Maybe it was dancing for his supper. Oh if there was food to be had, he wanted in on that. It took him a bit to understand the movements, but after awhile he was moving fairly in time with it and blended his way in, arms creaking as they slapped together and his legs felt like they were going to fall off.
But this was for the food, delicious delicious brains. He'd grab his crotch if it meant a whole left section for himself.
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 9:35 pm
(Zeta Six/Bones Entering from Bulletin Board/Death Lounge)
Silence. After his name had been placed on the board and he heard some witty comments from a familiar voice it seemed to just... end. It was a void as his vision blurred then suddenly he snapped back. He felt his body jolt, twist (which damned well hurt a bit) and then... fall limply, heavily down on his body. Such an odd sensation, feeling such weight it was as if... as if.. His bright eyes glanced to his arms. Well that's just... hungry. Would have been his thought but rather it came out as Hungry? Hungry. Damn it had been a while since he had eaten anything.
Something raw was going to be needed, something juicy something filled with... brains? Suddenly Bones's mind function stopped and began to fill with the odd notion. Brains with some tea might go nicely... or spreadable on something...
..."Grhhhn..." The sound escaped him. That was about as eloquent as he was going to get as he made one long step forward, feeling his body nearly fall apart on impact. He'd have to take better care of his body this time... but first he'd need to satiate the growing lust to banish away his hunger pangs.
He shuffled slowly to the nearest set of glowing orange eyes and rest his on the number. He managed to make out a scrawl mark of a seven. That was a sight. Bones felt his lips curl for but a moment before giving up on the now tedious chore of smiling. Only one thing to do now... Sniffing the air he could sense them somewhere. Surely after just one... after just one he'd be able to think straight again. Keeping in close proximity to his known? companion, he stretched out a heavy arm and managed to force the laden muscles into pointing.
The hunt for food was on.
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 9:40 pm
At the sounds of rythms, Z4 wobbled towards the source. Ahhhh... more like him, yes, yes, and some with birdies on their helmets, and that rang some sort of bell although he couldn't quite fathom which, or what a bell was. Even so, primal forces took over, still humming in his zombish way the song that seemed to have filled all of their hearts in a hearty, "Hurrrrrrrrrr Hraaaarrrrrggg~" as his feet and sway followed the others.
They were on the march, it would seem. While enjoyable, the march only made him hungrier.
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