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.]
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"If they disowned me... I'd have nowhere to go."
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"That sucks," she says, finally - knowing that it's an ineffectual response, but genuinely unsure of what else to go with.
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It didn't matter how many times she said they were just friends.
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She knows that more than most.
"She, uh-- she wasn't actually my girlfriend. Not officially. But calling her that would've made her happy, and I wish I'd had more chances to make her happy."
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They've been through hell together. Twice. That's a lifelong bond.
"We're two halfs of one soul. And... I'm sorry. That you didn't get a chance to say yes."
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"You make life sound doomed."
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"I don't know," she says. "I guess... I see it more like a reminder to enjoy what you have when you have it."
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"Let's get going then. We've got zombies to burn."