[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

[headlining]

Wait, what? You said it looked good!

{Keats: deludes himself into thinking terrible outfits look good on him EVERY TIME.]

[His retort is paused when he hears the rattling nearby. He shoots a glare at it before turning his attention back to Metatton.]

I'm not here to rescue you, I was just...in the area. That's all. [tsuns] Besides, just because you're not of interest to them doesn't mean you can't get hurt, idiot.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[I said it fit your character, is what he's going to say, but...

Ah. Guess it isn't just his imagination.

He slams his hand up against the door and holds it there; the door immediately goes still.

Enjoy this eyebrow raise.]

Oh? And what's going to hurt me?

[headlining]

[The sound of the slam almost makes him flinch, but he remains as stoic as he can, just shaking his head in response to Mettaton's question.]

People who don't know any better. [A sigh.] Or the infected trampling over you because you're just an obstacle in their way of their meal...I mean, there's a lot of ways you could get hurt.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[My god, this idiot. He's trying so hard to act like he isn't concerned...

Mettaton knows he's doing that awful thing where he's smiling despite himself. He's still not sure whether this whole thing is endearing or annoying.]

I honestly need to ask, sweetheart: did you happen to skip all of your science and physics classes on the way to your lit degree? Because you have a hard time getting around the concept, [he hits the door again, rattling it with an even louder bang] of metal.

...besides. Unless someone intends to kill me, it doesn't matter. Monsters are sturdy, you know.

[headlining]

Hey, look, just because you're super strong and metal on the outside doesn't mean you're not vulnerable on the inside. You probably have, I don't know, wires and such you need to operate. You can't tell me you're invincible inside and out.

[He scratches the back of his neck with a sigh, looking slightly sheepish. He wants to help Mettaton, protect him, because protecting people is all he really is good for, really.]

Whatever. You can take care of yourself. You've made that much clear.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[Why is he being so defensive about this...? Aww... Aww! He's gonna punch this nerd in his arm.]

You did come to rescue me, you...

[Uh. Why isn't his hand moving?

...why have the noises from inside the staff's lounge gotten so much louder?

Distracted from punch duty, Mettaton turns his head to where he left his hand last: the door. What is... Oh.

Oh no.]

..........

[He's smiling, but it's the sort of SOULless smile you'd make after punching a hole through a goddamn door holding zombies behind it and now you can't move your hand back out of the hole because then what Mettaton you-!!!

He can't even meet Keats' eyes right now. This floor is by far the most interesting thing in the world.]

[headlining]

[He looks to the hand now buried in the door. Then back to Mettaton. Then back to the hole in the door.]

[He's really trying very hard not to laugh right now, but he definitely can't stop smirking. Sorry, Mettaton. This is too hilarious.]

I actually retract my last couple of sentences completely. Thanks for proving me wrong, there.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[Oh, this is wonderful. This is so great. His hand is stuck in The Zombie Hole. If he removes his arm, their arms will follow. People will question if he's infected and, if he's not, why he wasn't bitten. They'll ask how he punched through a solid oak door without injuring himself and Sebastian, the morose, frightened temp, is too sensitive to take martial arts without looking like a secret serial killer. This is so fun. This is exactly why he came to the mall!! For THIS!!

That plastic smile is still on his face as he slowly begins to sink, hand still pressed into the door.]

...you're welcome.

[headlining]

[If Keats had about an iota of true compassion, he'd already be trying to get Mettaton out of this terrible situation.]

[Keats, sad to say, does not have an iota of true compassion.]

[His smirk only widens.]

Do you need me to help you out? You only need to say the word.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[...gasp.

Now Mettaton can look at him. This fiend. This traitor. This emotional terrorist!

He's kneeling on the ground now, smiling and glaring.]

What word?? I'm perfectly fine!! This is an IDEAL situation! You said it yourself: you weren't here to rescue me anyway! I'm happy right where I am, darling.

[headlining]

Oh? That so? I mean, I guess if you have the patience to stand there in front of everyone with your hand in a room full of zombies, then clearly you're doing just fine.

[He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his coat, mouth breaking wide into a grin.]

But what do I know?

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[Nope. Mettaton's not falling for this. He's not asking Keats for help. That's how he wins and Mettaton is not a loser. He refuses to owe him anything or prove him right or have this rubbed in his face for the rest of time.

He's just going to have to live here now.

"I'm going to kill you," he mouths.]

[headlining]

[It is a little known fact that Keats, as stuffy and grumpy as he might be, has a dreadfully mischievous side to him. If he sees an opportunity like this to see someone squirm, he'll definitely take it.]

[He only lets out a laugh, turning his attention to the nearby shelf and casually glancing through the remaining books before he pulls one out.]

Oh, look! "Science Facts for Kids". [He flips the book open - his tone is definitely cheerier than usual.] Did you know that a single solar flare can release the equivalent energy of millions of 100-megaton atomic bombs? Goodness.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[Later, when his hand is not trapped in The Zombie Hole, Mettaton will reflect on how he never assumed Keats had this in him. Stuffy, yes. Surprisingly passionate about his writing, okay. Capable of fun? Of having enough of a spine to turn the tables on his favorite idol?

Never.

It'll be impressive later. Right now, his own grin is getting wider.]

You have ten seconds.

[headlining]

Ten seconds for what?

[He looks up from the book with feigned confusion, looking over at Mettaton's hand, which still looks incredibly stuck.]

You're not going anywhere.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

Five.

[headlining]

[He doesn't look impressed.]

What are you going to do? Throw confetti on me? In front of all the others?

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[Ha.]

...Okay.

[He closes his eyes.

He slams his shoulder into the door, as if being dragged, and lets out the most ear-splitting wail possible. Tears are streaming from his face. The civilians a few feet away are gasping, searching for the source of the sound.

They're looking at you, Keats.]

[headlining]

[Okay, he seriously wasn't expecting that.]

H-hey! What are you doing?!

[That is the most atrocious sound he's ever heard in his life.]

Stop crying! You're the one who said you're fine!

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[He does not stop crying. Or screaming for his "life." For all the world, it looks like this poor man who has done nothing but protect his fellow civilians for the past five hours is now in the process of being attacked himself. And this other man, this stranger in a horrible purple coat, is doing nothing.

The panicked mummers around them are growing. A woman is already trying to climb over the barriers they'd made earlier, shouting. "What are you DOING?! HELP HIM!"]

[headlining]

[That's not good.]

[Keats does not like doing things when he's told to do them. If there wasn't anyone here, he'd be more or less okay with just leaving. But thanks to SOCIETAL PRESSURE he has to help Mettaton.]

[Ugh.]

[Now it's his turn to murmur "I'm going to kill you" under his breath as he shoots a glare at Mettaton before grabbing his hand and wrenching it out of the hole.]

There you go! You're free! [He's 100% grouch mode now.] No problems here whatsoever! Stop staring, all of you!

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[Ah, peer pressure. There's just nothing like it, is there?

Thanks to it, Mettaton is free! How wonderful!! There's that strange, mechanical hum again as Mettaton leans in and wraps his arms around his "savior" and buries his face in his neck.] Thank you, honeysuckle, [he whispers, hiding the smile on his face, but not the one in his voice,] It was a good effort. Maybe next time.

[...it's quick and chaste and can hardly be called romantic, but, for a brief moment, he presses his lips against the corner of the other's mouth.

Before he can get a reaction, he's already pulling away, back to being scared and quiet "Sebastian." He's waving away the people brave enough to leave their cover and crowd him.]

No, no... i-it's okay, I'm fine... We'll all be fine, just... Let's just get this covered...

[He turns to Keats again. Wink.]

[headlining]

[This is so rude.]

[This is incredibly rude. His pride has been wounded and Mettaton, in a remarkably surprising turn of events has not only embraced him, the fiend, but has also given him a half-sort-of-not-really kiss.]

[Keats' cheeks heat up as if he's suddenly been tossed into a sauna. He barely even has enough composure to really respond with anything but a surprised gasp.]

Yes. Yes, just...we'll handle this. [He clears his throat, trying to ignore everything that just happened. He hates everything. When the crowd has more or less moved their attention off the two of them, Keats glares at Mettaton.]

Try that again, and I'll swear I'll set you on fire just to add insult to injury.

[That statement would be a lot more intimidating if his face wasn't as red as a tomato.]

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[Okay, the shy-act is still kind of cute. Mettaton watches the way the anger briefly melts from the other's face. The way he gasps and his skin blushes into a dark rose red. The way he forgets all of his proud, scholarly words in favor of tripping over his own tongue.

It's so... enchanting, watching humans have such instinctual reactions to affection. No, he couldn't feel that gesture himself, but... He can see, clear as day, that Keats did.

Heh.

He's in the process of shocking the arms coming out of the hole with his "taser" when Keats decide to threaten him. Mettaton winks again and kisses the air.] So you're saying I'm not hot enough for your tastes? There's being picky, but that's just insatiable.

[headlining]

Oh, shut up. You're the most insufferable person I've ever met.

[Honestly, there's a truth to that. Keats, irritated, pushes his glasses up his nose as he watches the infected driven off by the very convenient "taser".]

Next time, don't be an idiot and don't punch through doors, okay? I'm not always going to be around to help you.