Sameen Shaw (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cactusy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2024-10-15 12:42 pm
cactusy) wrote in revivalproject2024-10-15 12:42 pm
→ 004 | action | OTA
WHO: Sameen Shaw and OPEN
WHERE: Around Temba
WHAT: Fite fite fite
WHEN: Throughout the zombie event
WARNINGS: Zombies/zombie-killing, violence, mild gore
For the umpteenth time since arriving here, Shaw really, really, really wishes she had her gun. Not just a gun, her gun. The tech-heavy energy-based doodads that the Agrii provide are pretty cool, but more as a novelty than anything else, and they're unreliable as hell when the energy storms hit. When she needs a weapon, she wants old-school dependability and familiarity. Which is why she's currently running around the city, fighting off zombies with a metal pipe.
The same people seem to crop up for her, over and over again: a tall brunette woman, a guy in a suit, another guy in a suit. A man in military tactical gear. A man with the same U.S.M.C. tattoo on his forearm that she has on her own. A Middle Eastern woman who shares her facial features. One after the other, she dispatches them all, knocking them down and bashing their heads in always without hesitation, and always with the same stony look on her face. Totally normal behavior! She's fine.
As she works her way through the city, she'll be on the lookout for anyone who might need help: particularly if they're young, scared, or come off as a non-combatant, but also if they're fellow fighters who look like they could use an extra hand. And if anyone seems to be hesitating to kill zombie versions of their own loved ones... welp. For better or for worse, she'll dive right in and do it herself. It needs to be done, as far as she's concerned - regardless of whether the reaction is relief and gratitude, or horror and anger.
[OOC: I'm down for pretty much anything here: co-fighting, getting cornered/overrun, rescuing/being rescued, the works! When it comes to bites, she'll be incorrectly assuming that these zombies are likely to follow traditional zombie rules, so she'll advocate heavily for restraint/isolation/observation for anyone who's bitten, including herself.]
WHERE: Around Temba
WHAT: Fite fite fite
WHEN: Throughout the zombie event
WARNINGS: Zombies/zombie-killing, violence, mild gore
For the umpteenth time since arriving here, Shaw really, really, really wishes she had her gun. Not just a gun, her gun. The tech-heavy energy-based doodads that the Agrii provide are pretty cool, but more as a novelty than anything else, and they're unreliable as hell when the energy storms hit. When she needs a weapon, she wants old-school dependability and familiarity. Which is why she's currently running around the city, fighting off zombies with a metal pipe.
The same people seem to crop up for her, over and over again: a tall brunette woman, a guy in a suit, another guy in a suit. A man in military tactical gear. A man with the same U.S.M.C. tattoo on his forearm that she has on her own. A Middle Eastern woman who shares her facial features. One after the other, she dispatches them all, knocking them down and bashing their heads in always without hesitation, and always with the same stony look on her face. Totally normal behavior! She's fine.
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As she works her way through the city, she'll be on the lookout for anyone who might need help: particularly if they're young, scared, or come off as a non-combatant, but also if they're fellow fighters who look like they could use an extra hand. And if anyone seems to be hesitating to kill zombie versions of their own loved ones... welp. For better or for worse, she'll dive right in and do it herself. It needs to be done, as far as she's concerned - regardless of whether the reaction is relief and gratitude, or horror and anger.
[OOC: I'm down for pretty much anything here: co-fighting, getting cornered/overrun, rescuing/being rescued, the works! When it comes to bites, she'll be incorrectly assuming that these zombies are likely to follow traditional zombie rules, so she'll advocate heavily for restraint/isolation/observation for anyone who's bitten, including herself.]
no subject
"Thanks," he said, shaking his head as if he was trying to physically clear it. "Just when you think you're getting used to this..."
There was honestly no getting used to it. He took a couple of deep breaths to try settling himself down. For now, it looked like they were clear for a few moments. That was something of a relief because the storm was also making it harder for Keith to keep up than what he was used to.
no subject
"Where are you headed to?"
no subject
It was a lot to deal with.
"I was, um..." He pulled himself out of those thoughts, and glanced around for a second to regain his bearings. "That way." He gestured in the direction he'd been going. He didn't have a specific destination. It was more about finding stragglers and helping people who weren't fighters get to safety.
no subject
"I won't ask who that guy was," she says, "but if he shows up again, are you gonna have trouble taking care of it?"
Because if so, he really should have an escort.
no subject
"It's been getting easier."
Everyone else he could deal with because he knew that they were all alive. The zombie aspect of seeing them wasn't real. It was actually even easier to deal with them this way than the times they had shown up without being zombies, giving him false hope that he'd see his friends again, his family.
"Out of everyone," he said quietly, "he's the only one I've seen here who's actually dead back home, so... having him here like this... it hits a nerve." He didn't know why he felt the need to explain, but, so far, Keith hadn't seen anyone else who had already died back home, yet, either. Maybe he'd been lucky.
But that could easily change.