Zombies, Oui

Brief Title:
Zombies Oui

Characters:
Ambrose, Armand, Tigerstripe, Brother Voodoo

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
12/10/12 08:30

Location:
The Village, NYC

Summary:
"Zombies" invade the Village

Social or Plot:

TS:
No

Log:
Is a typical morning in the Village, quiet (as far as Manhattan goes), except the area around NYU's campus, which is bustling as the term is coming closer to its end and finals are looming. Outside the campus, its regular business, mild amount of pedestrians most gathering in coffee houses or places that serve prototypical breakfast (including those fast food joints that have made it into the Village).
It is just a few blocks away from that hub of activity, NYU at Washington Square., near west 9th and Sixth Ave, that there is another hub of activity. A more quiet area of the neighborhood, only a few commercial store fronts amidst the mix of condos, apartments and townhomes. A few quiet screams peirce the air and the location starts to clear of the few pedestrians who venture that way - in the morning, most
likely joggers and those trying to get to work.

Hearing the scream, Ambrose lifts his head up from where he'd been walking. His eyes widening, he glances this way and that, trying to discern the source of the scream. His hand finglrs his cellular phone in his pocket nervously as he considers his options, not one normally to interfere. But lately, things have been changing. And thus, the sleep deprived man just stands there.

Tigerstripe was on her way to a university lab - she had gotten some access to it for the meantime while her lab at NY Biotech was rebuild. The screams got a frown from her, but she went into the direction of them, gabbing for her phone. better call in the police, right?

There's a book he would be trying to get from a person he gave a cake the other day, something with coffee and rum and so he did have an appointment, he really did. Armand walks along eating an eclair, his hair braided in pig tails and worn tame today, cream colored knit cap on his head as he wears a dark green peacoat over his cream colored turtleneck and dark jeans. Then at the sound of screams he sighs softly, closing his eyes and resting a hand lightly on his messenger bag before adjusting the strap of his golden backpack and starting to drift towards the sound of the screams, head tilting warily. "Oh...silvounon...let it not be another tiny demon..." He murmurs.

As if the sleep deprived man is destined to not get any rest, there is a flurry of activity behind him. A few buildings/houses back there was a small alley turned parking lot, at one point someone gated it and added a key pad. The sound of metal hinges bursting would indicate someone didn't like it. Should Ambrose turn around, he might find himself confronted with two walking corpses. Slowly the turn and look at him, recognizing the scent of food perhaps, it might seem like the lock gaze with him if he does look, right through him maybe. They begin to lumber towards him.
For Tigerstripe and Armand, people move away from the vicinity where stands Ambrose, as if trying to get away. Most say nothing as they pass either one (in whatever direction they are both approaching from). "No time, the living dead ... 12-12-12 end of world," the people are muttering nonsense as they try to leave the area. A few joggers and business folk turn around at this like nothing has happened and find new routes for exercise and to get to work.

Ambrose stares at the two things, recognising certain... aspects of these things. He goes a very bad shade of grey, and starts to back up quickly, clutching his bag to his chest as he continues, not taking his sight off the two at all, not evne paying attention as he starts to back up right into traffic, not saying a word, nor removing his eyes from the zombies.

"Monsieur...Ambrose?" Armand notices the familiar face and just eyes the individuals who do /not/ look well at all and he exhales softly before eyeing the individuals and joggers heading off in opposite directions. "...oh oui, how American of you..." He mutters irritably, eyeing traffic and then eyeing Ambrose. "Monsieur!" He calls out before worrying his bottom lip and taking a couple of steps forward, eyeing the zombies? Are those really zombies? He just shoves the rest of the eclair into his mouth, chewing as his cheek bulges out to the side like a deformed chipmunk as he takes off running towards the poor guy.

Tigerstripe is not the most interested in occult. she is in Science, so she does not recognize the mutterings as something that really brings people to panic. It's nonsense to her. As she notices a man might be the center of the happenings, she eyes him closely, then noticing the people not too... healthy. "what..."

Indeed, Armand can back pedal as fast as they lumber. While the zombifyied beings aren't making quick ground, that doesn't speak well for traffic. There is a little old lady out for a drive, to pick up her meds. She doesn't see the man stepping back into the street, or hear the panick outside her car, her windows are up because its chilly out. She slams her brakes at the last minute, the sounds of tires on asphalt tearing through the neighborhood.
She looks like she will stop with plenty of room, until the furniture moving truck careens into her backside. The driver, a college kid moving out of the dorm - either graduated or tired of college living, was texting while driving the heavy truck full of furniture. Hopefully someone is close at hand.
Meanwhile a few more lumbering zombies emerge from a gated courtyard, left open by running NY denizens. It is a below level street courtyard, and the come up the steps. As if drawn by the sound of squealing tires.

"It is I!" calls over Ambrose, hearing his name. His eyes were still locked on the two, and he considered how much bludgeon damage a 'Great World of Archaeology 1802-1812' would do to a Zombie when swung in a handbag.
And then he hears the tires squealing, and whirls that way... he goes even whiter, and holds his bag up, frozen to the spot. Eyes shut tightly, he hears multiple crashes, horns honking, and more screaming fading "... I should have gotten drunk and stayed home." he decides simply. Knocked out of his shellshocked state, he turns to book it towards Armand quickly.

Armand glances around for some help as he side-steps and takes a step back away from the crash, chewing and swallowing with a startled expression before he notices...there are MORE zombies...oh lovely and he looks around once more for help before calling out towards Tigerstripe. "The little old woman!" He points towards the cars. "We'll need ambulance." Then he's looking to Ambrose as he notices him running towards him. "The cars! Use the cars for cover!" Then he's eyeing the zombies now with extreme...wariness, as a hand slips into his bag. "...nice...creature from my grandmaman's horror stories..." He offers with a shaky voice.

Tigerstripe sighs, calling 911 "we need at least two ambuilance cars... and some armed people to calm down some sort of small riot" she tells the lady at the line, looking around for some sort of weapon or such. Something like a club, tire iron or a wrench maybe...

Disaster narrowly avoided for Armand, there is a pile up in the street now and zombies closing in. One zombie figure starts towards the old woman, another towards the college kid from the truck. The kid managed to get out but looks confused after the recent crash. The old woman is still in the car, she's trying to put it into reverse. Its hard to tell if she's confused from the accident or simply her age is at issue.
The other two start moving towards Ambrose and Armand as they gather across teh street. Down the street there arises the sound of air rushing and ending with a bang, like lightning but not quite, a flash of green bounces off the buildings. No telling what that is, but its a block away at least and there are four zombies in this area to ponder.
The police tell Tigerstripe, "Ambulance on the way, we'll call for a riot team."

Finally ending up next to Armand, "Use the covers from WHAT? They can walk around it." he points out, voice tight and high pitched as he slungs his bag over one shoulder, pulling out his own phone... tne he hears Tigerstripe calling it in and relaxes, but just a little bit. His eyes go to the old lady's car, hesistatingly to rush forwards, or not?

Tigerstripe eyes the situation, pointing down the street "Get outa here Kid!" she screams at the student as she walks in to the old woman, trying to keep her calmness as she knocks the window "you won't get the car away through a truck..."

Armand tugs his lighter from his bag and his pigtails unbraid themselves as his hair fades to a jetblack and then starts to fade into the rainbow (ROYGBIV) colors it usually does and he takes a deep breath and then another. "Monsieur! Go help with the cars and the people trapped, non?!" Then he rushes towards one of the Zombies, tugging his pearl enlaid pocket knife from his pocket as he trembles a bit. "Oi! Is Zombie, oui? Here..." He tugs up his sleeve and uses the knife to cut a gash in his forearm, holding up the bloody arm. "Is better than chicken non?" Then he takes off running.

As Armand watches the zombie lumber to the old woman's car, even as Tigerstripe is opening the other window to help her out, he notices the zombie hand move for the handle and start jiggling with it. Her car is older, it does not have auto locks, the zombie opens that door.
The old lady looks at Tigerstripe, "Oh, be a sweatie, do you see my dentures by the night stand there, yes, grab them for me ..." There is no night stand in the middle of the street where she is pointing. Good news is the college kid is getting out of there, he doesn't stick around to see what the zombies do.
Bad news is the zombie at the old lady's car, on the side of the vehicle opposite of Tigerstripe, is moaning and putting one knee onto the passenger's seat and reaching over slowly to try and grab the old lady through the car.
The two other zombies are drawn to Armand, as is the one that had originally gone for the college kid in the moving van. Whether the blood or simply the antics to draw attention, the move towards him. If he runs, he might be able to lead them around a little bit, but they can't match his pace.

Ambrose stares at Armand, but hunches his shoulders as he jogs towards Tiger stripe "Get the door open and get her out." he states to her, voice shaky as he pauses by the car's hood... then pulls off his shoulder bag and starts to swing it about in a circle, olympic-hammer style, the giant book inside hopefully being decently weighted. He doesnt release, but blindly swings with little skill.

Tigerstripe frowns and pulls open the car, trying to get the old woman out of it "you have them in your mouth already, Ma'am. And now we need to go see the doctor." she tells her, trying to get her away from the zombie... or whatever student crap that is.

Okay, so this could've gone better. Really. Armand just arches an eyebrow as he turns to notice the two zombies who have followed, waiting as they get closer and he pants softly as he carefully tugs the can of spray paint from his messengerbag and he looks between the two. "Wait! Wait...I has a question for you..." His hair grows longer, past his knees. "WAIT! How many blackbirds were baked in the pie?" A long pause. "Pastry humor is wasted on the undead..." He clicks the lighter and then uncaps the spray paint as he holds up the makeshift flame thrower, head facing the other way.

The wildly swinging bag doesn't have to be well aimed to hit the zombie person. Those really familiar with voodoo might recognize that these zombies are simply possessed people, affected most likely by a zombie powder developed in Haiti about 10-15 years ago. A few wild swings knocks out the car zombie. The old woman goes with Tigerstripe, "Dear, did you see my dog, he was just here?" She does follow at least while Ambrose is wildly knocking out the zombie.
Fire and hair spray is certainly better. It singes the zombies, they catch on fire slightly, and come out of the possession, then scream before they stop drop and start to roll, they might need medical attention now.
This leaves one present zombie, a green flash arches, air crushing behind it sounds and it strikes the zomibe, sending the possession away and they look around blindly. Brother Voodoo runs through the area, looks around as if confused, "Looks like this is under control." He runs to look for more zombies down the next block. Hopefully there aren't any more lurking in the alleyways?

Tigerstripe shakes her head "can you walk? there is a bench there. you can sit there waiting for the ambulance." she sais, picking up her phone once more to call police again "we need some more ambulances here..."

Armand releases the pressy thingie on the can of spray paint and allows the lighter flame to die as he stares at the people who fall to the ground, quickly shoving the items sloppily into his bag as he drops to his knees beside the two, reaching out tentatively. "Pardon me!" He cautions them before looking up to make sure people are coming and nobody's getting eaten and he sees...the green flash and...a man who looks confused before running off and his jaw sets as he looks back to the burn victims, his hair still rainbowy but he's on guard, removing his coat to toss over one of the on fire people to help pat out the fire and he takes a deep breath.

The person complies with Tigerstripes request, saying units are on the way. One might hear now the sirens starting to echo through the canyon of smaller buildings that makes up the Village. The old woman heads for the bench, "We have to take out my rollers in 15 minutes," she says, no rollers in her hair whatsoever. The person who Armand helps mutters about how it hurts. The burning looked much worse than the actual burns when its said and done. Hair spray, flame, looks impressive, they're hardly touched, mostly singed hair, a slight burn on their skin no worse than sunburn. The other one rolling around, stops as his fire goes out too, he calls out, "What happened where am I?" The one Armand helped, a female, calls out in response, "Is that you Joe?"

Tigerstripe sighs and helps the woman sit down "please sit here and wait, ok?" she asks, looking around if there is someone else who needs help. Maybe something could be done.

"Shh...oui, it'll be okay..." Armand tries to reassure them as he looks over his shoulder towards the car wreck and the others. "Monsieur!?" He calls out trying to check on Ambrose before turning to the female with his coat and the man who's finished putting himself out. "I am sorry, I only had one coat...are you...are you both okay? Of course not, just sit, the ambulance is coming." He assures them, wincing as his sleeve brushes against his arm wound and he nods.

The woman does just so, the only person who looks like they presently need help are the burn victims, more because it probably hurts a little, but not immediate medical attention. The college kid might need something after the crash as well but he ran down the street with other people fleeing. Rescue type vehicles stop at either end of the area, sectioning it off. A swat team starts to come through the area. An occasional gunshot rings out between sirens. They eventually make it to this area. They call out towards Tigerstripe and Armand (and Ambrose), "You need to clear out, there is a situation here ..."

Armand does look uber sympathetic as he looks at the burn victims and before he straightens up his hair fades back to its usual dark brown as he hears the sirens and exhales softly. Then he jumps upon hearing the swat team, hands going up over his head rather quickly as he stares and blinks before looking around pointing to the burn victims. "Merci...officer, there is here...the ones I tink were infected by something, they need someting for the burns..." He takes a deep breath and then another, pulling his sleeve down over the gash and nodding as his hands go back up. "These two need to get to safety."

Waving over another on the team, two swat members approach Armand, "Roger," they agree about people needing help. "These two were infected, you sure this is viral?" Then he calls over his walkie to get an ambulance down this street. Sirens come closer in answer to the call, it has to partially go down the sidewalk to get around stopped cars. "Any more infected that you've seen in this area?"

Armand is quiet as he nods and he tilts his head to the side. "Oui...I..." He shrugs helplessly. "Maybe perhaps no viral, after they were shocked out of it, by the fire they seemed to be fine so not an illness, but they perhaps did not know what they were doing? Like a drug?" He nods slowly and points in the direction the Voodoo Man seemed to go. "I tink there may be others. Just...just remember they perhaps do not know what they are doing. Blunt instruments only, no guns...please."

The swat captain calls again into the walkie, "Do not kill the zombies, repeat, do not kill, they may be drugged humans." There is some confirmation on the other end. The members of the team work to get injured individuals to the ambulance as it approaches. The captain asks Armand, "Are you all right, do you need medical assistance." Then motions with his hands for other team members to go in the direction of the Voodoo Man.

Armand breathes and he eyes his arm and then looks the Swat Captain. "I am going to need some gauze, a bandage..." He holds up his sleeve with the red stain over his forearm. "But I will be okay. Merci...I will be okay." He gestures towards the others. "Thank you for coming, I suppose I should ah..." He hesitates. "I should perhaps leave you to do your job?"

"Making sure everyone is okay is part of our job," he summons another swat member, "Take this man to get some medical aid." The captain returns to making his way down the street with his team, going in the direction Brother Voodoo went. The escort offers a hand to Armand, "If you'll come with me sir, we'll make sure everything is good to go."

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