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Once again, America tried to defend Harrison. Tried to hold on to the idea that maybe he'd get through. She'd been more herself with every experience under the red, and maybe if they just held out long enough...



Defending: Harrison for 5
Charge 3/3

That one took a bite out.

Harrison bent over, wiping his face.

"What, what the ********, man."

America had interfered in time. Harrison put B0nez up warily. He was okay, but...

"You just had a seizure. You were knocked out. And...and you got blood coming out-"

Peyton stepped in, and Harrison stepped between them.

"So I'll get him to put the axe down. I said not to ******** touch him. Back off. It's not because you're a zombie, if you...if you were gonna be, we'd both be by now..."

HP: 55
Defending: Rep, Peyton

Milo looked from one group that was dealing with a yell-y person to another group that seemed to be dealing with a yell-y person, then looked down at Noemi and just shrugged. (There was another group, well, there seemed to be several groups actually of various scenarios but those two seemed to be the loudest. And well, Mimsy).

-- REP IS INFECTED WITH THE PARANOIA VIRUS --

"But you ******** did." he said again, still livid, shivering with fear. "You did and I'm being called a ******** zombie now. When I'm fine I'm fine. You are all the enemies here, no me."

And yet he swung again, determined to keep Harrison away from him, to keep everyone away from him, because they'd only hurt him. like his mother, like her boyfriends, like Jordan. His every day was a gauntlet of other people and right here and now he was surrounded.

HP: 24
DMG: 8
Target: Harrison

"Huh?" At first he hadn't even realized she'd been talking to him. Not until she'd used his name. The resultant feeling hooked into him like a barbed stinger, venom and all. It burned beneath his skin and his face flushed hot and red. It was a surge of anger and betrayal that no distant memory could have prepared him for.

But he couldn't stare forever at the diseased creature Robert had become, or the improvised weapon in his hand. Jeden, dwa, trzy, he counted off in his head, but if anything it just made the sick feeling in his stomach worse. Because Mimsy just kept talking. She wanted a replacement. Hah! After everything they'd - he'd - done, she just - just like that -

Lucky opened his hand and let the flashlight clatter to the floor. He seemed to have lost all interest in heroics.

"You h̀̕͢a̷͘v͠͏͜͠è n̶̘̹̺͉͔̠̳o͞ i̳d̵̩͙̲͈̦̞̱e͟a̹̱," he breathed, "the l̛en̵g͏th̢s̢ I have gone through to̵ get ̸hér̶e. And I'm͘ n̨ot ̢l̡èavin̕g̵ just because of some - s͜ome͡ śpóįl̛éd͟ b̭r̷͎͕͖͙a̖t̙̰̬̫̹ ͍͓̝͈̫th̹r̯͝o̶͚̘͍̯w͏̬͚̲̥ḭ̩͟ͅn͚̣̦g ̶̤̭̣̰̬̻a̖̘̻͍͇̣̝͜ ̟̘̝̜t̸͕̝e̺̫m͚͍͝p̶̘e͙r̷̖̠̙̟̜ ͙t͙͍̹͕͈̟̱͢à̲n̘̯͖̮̘͉̕ͅt̝̫̖͠r͍͖u̻m͇̳̹̣̺̱̭."

And he continued to stand there for a time, practically panting with the apparent exertion it took to be so angry. His features darkened further, but not in an entirely human way. A wave of noise distorted his features from left to right, discrete squares of color swarming and reorienting themselves back into proper position. The blood and grime that had been accumulating from rolling around in a zombie containment unit was wiped clean instantly, leaving his jacket pristine white.

"You're... insane," he observed, hands practically clawing at his own face. His eyes darted quickly between her and Robert. "I don't know how I couldn't see it before - but - Boże -"

He gave a nervous, loud, barking laugh, taking one step back, then two, then seven, before he had put enough space between himself and her attack zombie. His face was still blank as he continued to process this revelation.

"Mark!" he suddenly snapped, bolting in the direction of the death assistant.

-- REP IS INFECTED WITH THE PARANOIA VIRUS --


"I know who you are." he said, throwing his weight against the axe. "I know who you are now. I can finally ******** see that. You and Jordan, both of you, both of you are in cohoots, were in cahoots, I bet you are still ******** sleeping with him."

HP: 24
DMG: idkmybff jill 8
Target: Harrison

Delicate fingers molted around the handles on her daggers, but that was all the outward reaction she gave. It wasn't as if Rep hadn't said these things time and time again. He didn't hold back, she'd heard it before. It dug, but there wasn't enough truth to those angry words to truly warrant an emotional reaction.

She didn't want to be here.

it could have been over by now. This problem, right in front of them, could have been dealt with. Whatever was effecting Rep, infection or something else, talking didn't seem to he doing a damn bit of good.

When he spat she took a small step backward, avoiding it, so it splattered against the floor at her feet.

This was an awful idea, standing by while Harrison tried to talk sense into Rep. Not exactly an easy task under the best of circumstances, but especially impossible now. For the moment she held her ground, waiting, but she had her hands up, weapons at the ready, for when everything went to s**t.