the zombie apocalypse meme

[likevegeta]

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Warning for possible triggers and death.

i . INFECTION.

• 1. YOU ARE INFECTED. It could be days, hours, or even minutes before you turn. Do you keep it to yourself and pray for a cure? Or do you hand your weapon over and trust your friend to put you down before you can hurt anyone else.
• 2. YOU KNOW. At least, you're pretty sure. They've been getting thinner, weaker, and the temperature that they're running can't be good. How do you proceed?
• 3. THEY'RE STILL HUMAN. These zombies are still people, you're the only one that sees it. You just can't take the killing anymore. Or maybe you just want to KILL THEM ALL. You're sick of these things. They're already dead, there's nothing human left in those eyes - you're a zombie killing machine.
• 4. IT'S YOU OR ME. There's no way the two of you can get out of here alive. Are you a good enough friend to let them go, or are you the sort to ensure that you only have to outrun them.
• 5. ABOMINATION. You've handled everything you've come across so far, but this is just wrong. Be it a baby, an animal, or a horrific mutation that grants it special powers - this one is throwing you for a loop.
• 6. NOT YOU. You recognize that one. Maybe it's a family member, a close friend, a lover, or a co-worker - you know who they are. Do you have the strength to do what needs to be done?

ii . SUPPLIES.

• 1. NOTHING LEFT. You're running out of almost everything. You've only got enough to feed one person now. Do you give it up, or are you ready to kill so that you may survive?
• 2. FOOD RUN. You and your buddy are all that stands between your group and cannibalism. Better hop to it.
• 3. ROTTEN. It's sat out too long and now everything is bad. You might have eaten it before you realized how rotten it was and now you're paying the price.
• 4. STOCKED. You found the ideal hideout and you want for nothing.

iii. YOU AGAINST THE WORLD

• . YOU'VE GOT A PLAN. You can protect your team, but it might cost you your life.
• 2. IMPROVISED WEAPONRY. They're closing in and you've got to think fast.
• 3. MUTINY. You're tired of their authority. You can do a better job.
• 4. ESCAPE. That city was getting too full, you've hotwired and tricked out a vehicle and now you're getting the hell out of dodge. Any zombie causalities are completely intentional.
• 5. SURROUNDED. Your safe space isn't so safe. They're on all sides of you and you're starting to run out of ammo.
• 6. NEVER ENDING ROAD TRIP. You've been in this car for ages, everyone is getting tired, and you're not sure where a safe rest stop is.
• 7. YOU WERE IN ON IT. You're safe in the head office of EVIL INC. and nothing can go wrong. Unless that clumsy scientist knocks that vial over, or unless one of your co-workers goes mad with the guilt. Or maybe you didn't know what you were getting into, maybe you've switched sides and you two aim to fix this mess.
• 8. ONLY ONES LEFT. Everyone else is dead. You're all that's left in the world. Where do you go from here?

iv. WILDCARD.
Create your own scenario, pick one from above or mix and match!

Comments

[la_mei]

She was called here. And maybe that's how she would reason all the things she does, having no explanation for this or for that, only that she knows she must go here, or that she was told to touch this, break that, or that this is simply the direction of her trajectory, like how gravity moves you only it's forward rather than down, through the squeaky-hinged gates, under the undertaker's window, still lit, making toe-marks in the loose soil as she weaves between stone and stone.

But there is something beneath the dirt beneath her feet. Something wonderful. Something very, very, bad. And even if it hadn't called out to her, still she would have come. Over the dirt to patches of soft grass, dark and dewy underfoot, and when she steps on them she can feel the moon treading over her back the same way, leaving moonlight between her shoulders, dew-drips down her spine.

She doesn't want to be here but here she walks, running her fingertips along the old stone, smoothing away at carvings already rubbed smooth by time, a serif here, a seraph there. She doesn't want to be here but she was called, and she must see this wonderful, dreadful thing, because back in the once upon a time when she was a wonderful, dreadful thing waiting to happen, her cries did not go unanswered.

So, she has come here, on silent feet and watchful eyes.

She was called, and she has come, and she is here. And she's brought a shovel.

[shuai_ge]

Actually dead, lying in a box with a lid on it. Surprisingly, Simon never spent much time on the thought, more likely, in the morbid wee hours, to imagine the unpleasant process of corpse-making, which is something he's seen quite a lot of by now. In terms of an afterparty, his imagination, not yet updated, is more likely to recall the peaceful deceased being wheeled along fluorescent hallways, an assisted journey to the hospital morgue.

All of which to say, he's woefully unprepared for the regrettable realness attribute of waking up dead.

"Aaaah!" He says, on principle, and then repeats it a few times for good measure. It doesn't get him very far. Certainly not as far as sticking his arm through the planking does. Empiricist at heart, he sticks the other one too, and then clawing his way out is just a matter of patience and making a mess of his good suit.

This is sort of terrible, isn't it.

[la_mei]

A low cry rises from the earth, and she shivers in spite of herself. "He is very near," she mumbles, weaving her head back and forth as if to look around, but her eyes are closed, and her face turned down. She doesn't want to see.

The shovel is tight in her hand, heavy wood rough with unshed splinters just waiting their chance. She thinks that something will come out of the ground now, and in her mind she sees herself helping to dig it out, and just as clearly she sees herself turning shovel to bludgeon and forcing it right back down. But when she opens her eyes it's no monster there rising out of the dirt, it's Simon in a ragged suit with torn up sleeves and a stupid look on his torn up face.

She takes a small step closer, eyes searching his emerging body for the answers that ought to be there. She is starting to regret the shovel. A sandwich would probably have been better.

Ronald Knox | Kuroshitsuji

[hardknoxlife]

[ Didn't this just happen a few chapters ago? ]

loki ( avengers - mcu )

[acidulous]

Justin Taylor | Queer as Folk

[kingofbabylon]

ii-2.

[insufferableprick]

[ Let's face it: la casa de Strider is the safest fucking place in the entire city. It's on the top floor of a high-rise and is stocked with more shitty ninja weapons than a Medieval Times armory. Okay, sure some of the weapons really are shit, useless stainless steel replicas of impractical video game swords or whatever, but some are the real deal and have seen actual use around the house. At the very least, Dave knows what he's doing with them.

On top of the weapon stores, there's the lifetime supply of orange soda his brother always kept around. And the apple juice in Dave's own closet. Labels say to refrigerate after opening, so that shit's still premium grade. Yeah, check it, hoarding habits coming in handy.

There's also a metric ton of phallic puppets, but how exactly those are going to help with survival is anyone's guess.

The main problem right now is the severe lack of actual food in both the fridge and the pantry. Not that the fridge has power anyway, but there's seriously nothing to eat in there: just more swords and cherry bombs. But it's okay. Dave's got a solution to the no-food problem. ]

'kay, so, here's the plan. We're in an apartment building, right? All we gotta do is kill the neighbors--if they've gone the way of the walking dead, I mean, if they hightailed it outta here then no one's gotta die--and take their shit. Simple. I know the old lady three doors down has a million pounds of cat food, that'll last us half a year at least.

[kingofbabylon]

[ Justin's busy examining one of the phallic puppets with a wary eye while Dave goes off on his explanation. He is very honestly probably the least useful person to have around you in a zombie apocalypse save for a paraplegic, maybe. He has nothing in the way of fighting skills and will come very close to losing his shit at the sight of blood and gore and violence. PTSD, man, it hurts.

Anyway, he gives a frown when it registers what exactly Dave is saying and the smuppet gets set aside for Justin to put a hand on his hip and give Dave an 'omfg you are not seriously suggesting that. ] Cat food. That's your plan.

[ Shaking his head, he goes to dig through the cabinets of Dave's kitchen and the fridge, looking for anything that's not apple juice or orange soda. Omfg, Dave, how do you even live. ] How about we check for any real food first, before resorting to Meow Mix? I can cook with pretty much whatever we find, so we can raid the next few apartments over? There's got to be something non-perishable left...

[tg]

[ Justin mentions the word 'non-perishable', and a light bulb goes off over Dave's head. ]

That reminds me.

[ He walks over to the sink, goes to his knees in front of the cabinet under it, pulls out a half-full ketchup bottle and some Saltines. The remains of his last meal before the Outbreak. ]

We better finish this shit before we go scavenging.

[ What is grocery shopping. ]

[kingofbabylon]

[ He is just............ going to stare for a very long moment. Stare in a kind of manner than says 'Look at what you are doing, Dave. Look.' ]

First of all, ew.

Second of all, ketchup and Saltines is not a meal.

Third of all, ew.

Who taught you how to eat?

[tg]

[ Dave rolls his eyes before giving Justin a look that says, 'I am looking at what I am doing and see absolutely no problem with it, what's your deal, girlfrond.' ]

First of all, items one and three are the same fucking thing.

Second of all, ketchup and saltines are totally acceptable sources of carbs and veggies, asshole.

Third of all, my bro taught me everything I know, and everything I know is how we're going to survive the end of the world. You should be thanking me.

[ Welp. ]

[kingofbabylon]

Three had an emphasis that One did not. Subtly is not to be forgotten.

Second, if you're a freak, maybe. I think we need to have words over how we each define 'acceptable'.

Third, okay, whatever, you eat the saltines, then we'll go look for more food. [ He rolls his eyes, then mutters ] Real food.

[tg]

Ketchup is real food. [ Dave says, in between mouthfuls of saltines. ] It's sold in Shop Rite. [ And so are garbage bags and tupperware. His point still stands.

Once he's done--sweet Jesus, kid eats fast; gotta scarf shit down before it disappears, after all--he brushes the salt crystals off his hands, goes to grab one of his swords off a wall. ]

'nother thing we gotta do is get rid of some of this soda and replace it with water before the plumbing goes.

[ Oh look, an actually rational idea. ]