[EVENT POST] I FEEL STUPID, AND CONTAGIOUS.

[dishearten]

CHARACTERS: Open to all!
DATE: 3/11-3/12, ICly
WARNINGS: Zombie attacks? Violence? Shopping???
SUMMARY: Lockdown at the mall! Grab your CDs and your soft pretzel, it's about to get bad.

LET'S GO TO THE MALL LOCKDOWN Business has been rough for Woodhurst Shopping Center ever since riots and unrest about the Bristol Virus have shunned most to their homes. Perhaps ill-advisedly, in attempts to draw a few more customers back into the polished halls of the grandest shopping experience Woodhurst has to offer, a weekend of big sales, great bargains, and fun family activities was widely advertised in the Woodhurst Watch. There was even a scheduled public concert, performed by the University Choir. The turnout was smaller than hoped, yet the air was quite optimistic. Shoppers enjoyed the day of activities and fun, and the sense of security was bolstered by the increased security detail. There was even some members of the press on hand to document this return to normality in a troubled time. Everything was going well, until a scene broke out in the food court. Security tried to quietly remove members of the choir that suddenly seemed to snap, plowing into one of the food stands and starting to feed on raw meat. However, a good handful of them escaped instant confinement, and while many of the visitors fled the mall as soon as they could, soon Police Detail arrived and put the entire building on lockdown. Nobody in and nobody out until the situation was resolved. 18:00 TO 23:00 HOURS Anyone unlucky enough to be trapped in the mall is left to their own devices, with very little knowledge to go on. This includes many civilians, as well as a small number of Audentes agents. This also includes a small number of infected, more than just the university choir. There's a voice over the loudspeaker imploring people to hide in stores, barricade doors, and stay put until help arrives. The majority of the infected seem to linger in the Food Court especially. Bad news for anyone trapped and starting to get hungry as the hours pass by, without any obvious assistance from the outside. The members of ALASTAIR have a choice, help protect or just do their best to avoid the infected themselves. Characters can get into the Security Office for a camera feed on what is happening in the mall, and potentially use it as a base of operations to work from. 00:00 TO 02:00 HOURS It becomes apparent that the number of infected in the mall are somehow increasing, despite the lockdown. It means that those that have squirreled away into stores and outlets are growing less and less safe as infected numbers multiply and they begin attacking barricades. To make matters worse, anyone that hasn't found cover will find the infected extremely reactive, and willing to give chase around the mall. The security feed indicates the infected seem to be coming in from the Parking Garage. Investigation will reveal a sewer outlet on the bottom floor. Characters will have to decide whether they should utilize the tunnel as a means of escape, or if sealing it off would ultimately leave the remaining hours of lockdown a little less violent. 04:00 TO 09:00 HOURS It's been an agonizing 12 hours, and with surprisingly little aide from the outside. With time to make preparations and put plans in place, now it's time to end this lockdown once and for all. Audentes is tasked with neutralizing the remaining infected as well as escorting any remaining civilians to safety, by any means they decide on. It is up to Audentes to decide how the end of this event plays out, be it removing or otherwise drawing away the lingering infected, or putting them down once and for all. There are plenty of civilians that have been bitten and attacked, leaving the question in the air as to whether they are infected as well. What should be done with those that could be bringing the virus back to their families? The team is going to have to decide on the answer to that.

Comments

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[That "lack of comment" speaks far louder than any denial. Mettaton's hands find either side of his face as he continues to swing his legs.

Giorno has a boyfriend. The fact that this didn't come out immediately is a violation of

Something.

Mettaton will figure out a way to prod him about it later.

Even funnier:] Oh my!! What you accounting for? His allowance? [It sounds like those human movies where the high school students, for some reason, have an entirely working underground economy revolving around lockers and who gets to go through the lunch-line first. It's ridiculous.

...he lets out a quiet gasp despite himself. Was that not hyperbole?

Mettaton's stare has gone from curious to intent.] Is he the popular kid you've found yourself indebted to after he stuck up for you against some wayward bullies? I need to know immediately.

[unholey]

No, his finances. He recently [forcibly.] inherited some businesses and I'm helping him wrangle their finances. The previous owner's bookkeeping was abysmal and is nigh-on incomprehensible. I'm helping him straighten them out.

[There's a note of genuine irritation there, because it's... true. God, Diavolo, how did you manage to keep Passione running and keep track of where your capital was when your records were all so awful?]

And no. I was put on a fast-track education when I was younger and graduated high school three years ago. We were introduced by a mutual friend. You watch too many movies.

[unholey]

[Maya not realize it yet, but a burger............. is probably not in her future for a while.]

[Fugo doesn't like carrying knives unless he knows he's going to be working. This is because when he loses his temper, his fingertips get itchy. And he really doesn't need to have a weapon on hand when he's that angry. So: he doesn't have a knife today. And that's a bit of a problem.

But only a minor one. Fugo reacts very quickly to Maya's shriek; he looks behind his shoulder, sees the fingers tangled in her hair and the crazed expression of the person who is pulling. He has no weapon, but he can't risk decking them; he turns and scans their immediate surroundings, quickly identifying the next best thing. Finally, Fugo lets go of Maya's wrist. This is because he needs both hands to pick up one of the food court's faux-wood chairs.]

Duck! [This is the only warning Fugo gives before he pivots in place and slams the chair with a probably startling amount of force into Maya's attacker's side, briefly stunning them. Undeterred, Fugo steps forward and, after briefly reflecting on last time he beat a man with a chair that accidentally broke apart when it made contact in the wrong place, adjusts his grip before he brings it down, hard and without hesitation, in an overhead swing aimed at the zombie's head.]

[unholey]

[Fugo stares at Sans for a too-long moment. There's a sharp, calculating look in his eyes. Even as he stands there, still struggling to catch his breath after pushing himself past a limit he obviously should not have, it's clear that he's doing some very serious mental figuring to figure out exactly how good his odds would be if he said no.]

Fine. Whatever. [His fingers twitch against the handle of his bag; he doesn't like it, but tonight's a night where he has to pick and choose his fights. This guy, whose abilities happened too quick for Fugo to really get a handle on their patterns, is at least probably with ALASTAIR. They are technically, supposedly, allies.] But you can do whatever you want with them, because there's nothing I can do about them.

[Well, there is one thing. But he'd rather not if he can help it. And given that they're trapped rather than skewered, he gets the feeling this guy would rather not see them reduced to a smear on the linoleum.]

[skelepun]

[While Sans was never the biggest MTT fan, his brother was at least top five, and it made the live version playing out in front of him a weirdly nostalgic affair. Enough to smooth out the exhaustion of a long night. It was a herculean effort to stay awake at all, and one Sans didn't quite follow through on.

Still. Any bits he missed probably weren't that important. He remembers to applaud in the right places, anyway. Even the end, as she runs away, and Sans feels himself coming to grips with a conversation he'd rather skip.]

If you feel like you gotta. [That exhaustion is suddenly more visible on his face, informed both by the long night and his mild frustration over the fued. If that's even what this was about, anymore. The gaps in what the old him might know and what he knew now were still too uncertain to guess at.] Far be it from me to stand in the way of a dumb argument.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[Argument? What on earth is Sans...

Undyne. Of COURSE.]

IS THAT WHAT SHE TOLD YOU? HOW TASTELESS. CAN'T SAY I'M SURPRISED SHE WOULD MAKE THIS ABOUT HERSELF.

[Really, it's no surprise at all. For all the love in her heart for literally every other monster on the planet, she's never liked, appreciated, or even remotely tolerated Mettaton. Every time there's an olive branch or an attempt to show her that he is a person, it's blown out of proportion. He couldn't enjoy his first moments in Oska (EITHER time!) without being questioned or harassed. He couldn't express himself about their disguises. He couldn't give her a clear reason for refusing to play a security guard without her implying he was an emotionless narcissist. But sure!! Fine!! This is all HIS fault! It's ALWAYS Mettaton's fault!!

Whatever.

He's crossing his arms over his "chest."]

THEY NEED ME THERE. IT'S A SHORT STORY AND IT MAKES AN AWFUL HEADLINE, BUT IT IS WHAT IT IS.

[skelepun]

Heh, well. When I asked you, you ran in the other direction so fast I think my skull spun. [He shrugs.] Can't control the news cycle if you don't give interviews, pal.

[Still. This is a new wrinkle. He taps his fingers against the arm rest, thoughtful.]

Not that I think it's any of my business, but eh. Worth a shot. Who's they?

[webdesigned]

( spider-man exhales a breath of something almost like a laugh. my hero. he's actually been saved a few times, and he'll never forget that fact — it's possibly reinforced a little too well, something he won't be able to escape. something he'll likely always consider himself unworthy of, considering the price most of those heroes had paid to protect him.

still, on occasion, even a hero needed to be saved. and when it happened, it was deserving of gratitude. )

Thanks, man. You really are my hero. ( there's not a hint of irony or sarcasm in his tone, either. maybe, maybe, if push had come to shove, he'd have forced himself to extricate the infected instead of giving himself up as a free meal. he appreciated being given the save, though, because chances were good he wouldn't have been able to handle it as delicately as he'd have liked.

as for his name, he brandishes mildly at the symbol emblazoned on his chest. ) They called me Spider-Man back home. Spider something works. I'm not picky.

[pummelling]

Ugh--

[Jin casts a fleeting glance over his shoulder and nearly trips over a loose bit of concrete in the process. Evidently? Stopping and chatting is last on their to-do list here. He's not even going to risk firing off another stunning arrow, and the ornate bow in his hands fades away, as if by magic.]

Cover! Can you find cover?! Or a way to cut them off here?

[slapfight]

[she stares at it for a second, a slow smile creeping its way across her face. just like she's never going to get over the idea of owning things, she'll never get over getting gifts either.

it's enough to make her not feel insulted by his picking on her, and she only rolls her eyes (the effect lost due to her smile) as she puts the charm in the pocket of the dungarees she's wearing).] We're going to survive this, because when I stop having feelings, I have to be annoyed at you for calling me short.

[slapfight]

It would also kill everyone, which defeats the purpose.

[she sounds terribly disappointed by that.] Nonfatal solutions to problems are far less efficient, but we are trying to save this planet, and it's not like these people can't be saved.

[and if she deems them deserving of death, she deems the same of Lance and the others.]

[slapfight]

[ah yes! reinforcements. she lowers her sunglasses to give him a good once-over (why is she wearing sunglasses over what appears to be a visor already covering half her face the world will never know).]

Hmm...

[she gestures to a GNC-equivalent just beside them, which is far too small and cramped for use as a cage and waves her hand. the metal grating slams down hard with a screech.] Like that!

[impressed yet?]

[slapfight]

[she's a little distracted- her enthusiasm quelled by whatever the heck it is that Sans is doing- so when his voice is beside her, reminding her of what she needs to do, she jumps, making a surprised, high-pitched sound, and then throws her hand up, bringing the heavy grate slamming down.]

Hah! [she points at the infected, who, by now, have realized they're trapped and have gathered around the grate like angry animals in a pen.] You clods fell for it!

[she holds up her hand for Sans to slap her the shortest of five.]

but they always happen anyway

[slapfight]

[Peridot has selected a nearby SUV, rather than a more practical and smaller vehicle. it's hard to say whether this is her way of showing off or if she's taking every precaution or if she panicked and it's the first vehicle she happened to see.

she has to keep her mind focused on it or she won't be able to move it. the magnetic field around her doesn't always respond the way she wants it too, especially when she's nervous. and while she observed Graham dispatching the first infected (those handcuffs look terribly impractical but okay!!), she has to avert her eyes from the rest.

she's standing the grating as she attempts to lift the car up- that part is easy. the fact that she lifted a little too hard, not anticipating the ceiling being a bit lower than she expected is... less than stellar. just ignore that loud sound of crunching metal and breaking glass.

well. at least with the roof caved in like that, no one will want the car and it'll stay over the grating. she meant to do this.]

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[Well that's...

...That's. Ha.

That's circumstantial. A coincidence. He was very busy that day.

Moving on, the lights on Mettaton's front panel blink into the shape of a question mark in want of an eyebrow to raise.]

OUR TEAMMATES, SANS. OUR SICK TEAMMATES? THE ONES WHO CAN'T INFECT ME?

[skelepun]

[Oh. Right. Those guys. He's been here a week, cut him some slack.]

Didn't realize you were such a bleeding heart.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[...There's a sharp crunch of metal gripping tight against metal. His screen is red.]

OH.

YES, I CAN SEE THAT.

I'VE ONLY SPENT MY ENTIRE LIFE ENTERTAINING THE ENTIRE UNDERGROUND AS THEIR SOLE CELEBRITY AND PREMIER DISTRACTION FROM OUR EVERYDAY ENNUI AND YOU, OF ALL PEOPLE, KNOW JUST HOW FULL MY SCHEDULE ALWAYS WAS. YOU, OF ALL PEOPLE, KNOW HOW LITTLE TIME I SPENT ON MYSELF SO I COULD BRING JOY AND HOPE TO EVERYONE ELSE.

BUT NO. I CAN SEE WHERE YOU'RE COMING FROM. DON'T WORRY YOUR LITTLE HEAD ABOUT IT.

[He's leaving.]

1/2

[skelepun]

[]

2/2

[skelepun]

I'll be sure to pass that onto BP next time I see him.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[He's winding the cord around his wrist.]

PLEASE DO. HE NEVER APPRECIATED ANYTHING.

[Did he even know how long it took to write, produce, and perform entire albums dedicated entirely to his work ethic? A normal person would have fired him the moment he stole product or started smoking on the job. But no, Mettaton kept him on! Because he's NICE!! He's a GOOD PERSON. No one ever appreciates him.

Huff.]

REMEMBER NOT TO FEED THE GIRL AFTER MIDNIGHT.

[skelepun]

I make no promises. [He shrugs, sliding down deeper on the couch. If Mettaton wants him to rise to display, welp. He's known him long enough. Surely he must know how fruitless that endeavor is.] Papyrus loves midnight snacks.

[Of course, as Mettaton approaches the door...]

Oh hey, one last thing, though. [A wink.] Maybe try chilling out a little. Cutting people some slack. You might like it.

Just a thought.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

...

[Cutting people slack? Implying what? That he doesn't? That is a lie. Mettaton has been nothing but nice to everyone.

There's a poof, and he's back to his EX mode. His cloak shutters on immediately afterward as he unplugs himself and heads toward the door.

Of course he's smiling. What else does he do?]

I'll keep it in mind, darling.

[B Y E]

[skelepun]

[Well, that makes two of them.

Sans is taking a nap.]

wow i can html

[headlining]

[That's...okay, he kind of has to stop and stare at this for a moment. The vines? Those are, admittedly, cool. However, he's not connecting the dots on why this kid suddenly needs to make a garden happen on the other side of this barricade.]

What, are you going to strangle the living daylights of the people on the other side with those things? What are you doing?

[aspearation]

...it's not like we're gonna keep 'em there forever.

[ Too soon, Sans. Too soon. (It will always be too soon.)

When she starts walking, she seems confident in where she's going, but the truth is that it's kind of arbitrary. She knows her way around the mall, so she has a few ideas about where they might go; might as well pick one, assess the situation, and go on from there. ]

We're gonna find a cure for this. We have to at this point.