Nightshift 49: Center of Doyleton (Outdoors)- Town

[scalyfishman.livejournal.com]

[from here]

Now that he thought about it- as in, actually thought about it- maybe it might have been better to wait for one of those 'better ideas' to grace them with its presence. Even if it had meant sitting around in the slagging reception area for the rest of the night 'cause, as he felt the first drops of rain pelt down the back of his shirt and felt the floor underfoot harden to cement and the roll of thunder shudder through his back teeth, that first idea had been a bad one. A very, very bad one.

They weren't just outside. Oh, no, that would have been too easy. They'd somehow walked out of the Institute and right the Pit into the very heart of Doyleton, no doors necessary and no easy escape routes. And all around them he could see the slow, shifting shadows of figures hunched not against the rain but from rot, not as many as the week before but there nonetheless. And here they were, caught in a crossroads between the slagging beauty salon and the Sherriff's office. They might as well have turned up at a Sharkticon convention for how well this was going to go down- and not just with those things, but with Hime.

Wincing, Depth Charge cast her a sideways look. "Bad move?"

Comments

[chainsaw-royal.livejournal.com]

Hime could have raised all kinds of protests to Depth Charge's reasoning, but whatever his reasoning, the action more or less fell in line with her own thinking - she didn't particularly want to stand in the entry way for the rest of the night. However, as soon as they stepped through the door, she really wish she had raised some of those points, as one of them was to point out that they could end up in outside again. In the rain. Surrounded by zombies.

Well, that part hadn't been part of her original argument, but it certainly applied now.

"Bad move," she agreed flatly, not even looking at the man as rain plastered her hair - which had been getting to be merely "damp" instead of "soaked and bedraggled" - down on her face again.

There was a splash as Hime dropped the weed whacker and the carton of gas. She pulled out her bat, taking it up in both hands.

"Well, as long as we're here... let's kill us some zombies."

She lunged forwards and a second later there was a rotting head flying through the air and a beheaded corpse falling to the pavement in front of the Royal. And she was just getting started.

[number1smiley.livejournal.com]

[from here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/922350.html?view=70088430#t70088430)

Out of the bright, hot sun and into a deluge.

Teresa was not expecting the dirt road to suddenly turn into a dark street where they were caught in a downpour. What games Landel liked to play. It felt odd being back to such a weak state, her senses suddenly dulled to that of a whelp and the lack of armor. And yet, in her hand, was her claymore.

Holding the weapon up, Teresa squinted her eyes in the darkness before bringing her fingers up to trace teh glyph etched into the blade of her claymore. Yes, this was her sword.

"Interesting."