[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]

[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.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[Hmm... They need something to cover this hole... There's a broken shelf from a kiosk they can use to patch it, but what would they use to keep it there? He can't just burn metal onto wood.]

Yeah, yeah, Prince Charming. I know.

[Wait, what did Keats say earlier?

...Pft. Mettaton presses his hands to his lips, smiling in the exact same way a parent would when their kids are opening the Gryftmas presents that have the coal in them.]

Oh, I have SUCH a good zinger. Say that insult again.

[headlining]

[It's bad luck that they're in a book store, not a hardware store, else they could use a hammer and nails.]

[He pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed.]

No, I'm not going to. [SIGHS.] I don't need your zingers.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[SIGH.]

You never want to make things easy. That's fine. I'll just do it myself.

[Ahem.

Mettaton steps to the side, as if he were having a conversation with himself, and parts his hair down the middle like a certain shaggy, librarian-looking dork.] Mettaton, [he mimics, matching Keats' tone and inflection perfectly,] my darlingest dearest and best friend in the world. It's come to my attention that, being the introverted and fun-hating editor that I am, you may very well be the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of meeting!

[He turns to the other side, flicking his hair back over his eye.]

Oho, honeysuckle, give it time!! You haven't met YOURSELF yet!!

[He poses himself against the wall. Tadah!]

[headlining]

[Keats would like to take this wonderful moment to look into the camera like he's on the Office.]

[He somehow looks even less amused than before, if that's even possible. His tone is deadpan.]

What a wonderful joke. Hardy har. I'm practically rolling on the floor laughing, here.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

Well, it would have landed better if you'd just gone with it in the first place. [HMPH.] I can't work with your lack of comic timing.

[...Ugh, the infected are back to sticking their arms out of the hole again. One grabs Mettaton by the collar before he zaps their offending hand another time.]

You don't have anything in your bag of tricks that would help with this, would you?

[headlining]

Unless you want a localized earthquake, a flamethrower, a tank, or generalized chaotic violence that would destroy the door rather than seal it, I can't say there's anything that's quite fitting.

[He's stuffing his hands in his pockets again, peering at the door.]

I could ice it up, but... [He spares a glance to the people in the store.] I can't say me summoning ice from nowhere is going to be subtle.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

Hm.

[He's back to fiddling with this bit of metal again. It can't be heated to the door. Bending it would just get more attention than naught.

Maybe...]

You could freeze this to it. It should melt by... WHENEVER someone decides to let us out, shouldn't it? If it's just the underside, no one will even know.

[headlining]

My ice works in a somewhat large range, but...hm. If I can try to focus in on it, maybe it could work...

[Why must all his powers be large, flashy, and highly destructive? He's almost jealous of Mettaton with his easily manageable and more lowkey abilities.]

You'd have to distract the others in case I can't make the effect that small, though.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

Always the distraction, eh? Don't you want me for anything else?

[Ha. He shoves the scrap of metal into Keats' arms, then saunters off toward the rest of the civilians. They're back to huddling in their corner, whispering about close calls and general, paranoid ramblings. What if he's infected? What if she's infected? Who's to say we aren't ALL infected!!

Once he crawls onto the shelf they're using as a barrier and sits down, he sends the other man a message.]

Don't keep me waiting, now.

[headlining]

[Keats almost wants to retort that he serves as the perfect distraction, but realizes halfway through thinking about it that saying it in that way would only make Mettaton tease him more about the connotation of the word "distraction".]

[He grumbles, looking down at the piece of metal in his hand. Alright. Freeze it to the door. He's got this. It can't be hard, right? Ellen back home could summon her Folks on a smaller scale, it's not like he has to go big and bold with what he can do. He places the metal against the hole, strong enough to keep it in place despite the hands trying to force their way out.]

[Keats closes his eyes, not wanting to frighten any poor civilian with his eyes glowing like he's the devil himself, and focuses. Just a spot of ice. Just a little bit. Just focus that stupid thing called magic, bring out the Folk he needs, and make it do his bidding to freeze underneath the metal and nowhere else. He hears the sharp sound of ice crystals crystallizing in the air, and then he cuts it short, not wanting it to spread further than it needs to go.]

[He opens his eyes.]

[Well, he fixed the problem. The metal is certainly now iced to the door. That's done.]

[The ice has covered the entire door, though.]

...Damn it. [He spares a glance back nervously towards the others, leaning on the wall near the door to try his best to awkwardly shield it with his body. He sends a quick message back to Mettaton.]

Problem's fixed. Went a bit overboard though. Just a tad.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[What does that mean? Oh god, what did he do?

If Mettaton looks concerned when he glances back at Keats, he's not going to admit it. The survivors are still chatting in his ears, one of them in the middle of grasping his "attacked" arm to check it for injuries, and don't seem to notice any commotion from the back of the store. There... doesn't seem to be a commotion, just...

Keats. Standing against the wall. Like a grumpy deer caught in some very embarrassing headlights.

Mettaton smiles over at him, batting his eyelashes.]

What's that, sweetie? Do you need help? You only need to say the word.

[headlining]

[This is really embarrassing, and Mettaton's attitude is not helping one bit. Keats shoots a scowl back at him, though he's kicking himself internally for messing up as much as he did.]

The ice might have spread farther than I intended to. I don't know how to explain how a door suddenly iced itself completely over.

[He scratches the back of his head with a grimace, before sending out another message.]

And NO, I don't need help, I just need to fix this somehow. Without your smug input, thank you.

[ex_mettacrusher33]

Oh! Alright, then. Have fun figuring that out. <3

[Can you tell what game we're playing, Keats-darling?

Mettaton's since turned his back to the other again, seemingly gone to comforting the rest of the group. There's a muffled discussion for a moment, peppered with the usual, sad encouragement, before the crowd seems to get settled into staring at him.

And now he's singing.]

Nothing's gonna harm you
Not while I'm around
Nothing's gonna harm you
No sir, not while I'm around
Demons are prowling everywhere nowadays
I'll send them howling, I don't care, I've got ways

[headlining]

[Keats is expecting a whole lot of things, but Mettaton singing out of the blue isn't one of them.]

[He stares over at the group, confused. This isn't helping. This is the opposite of helping. (Then again, he specifically did the opposite of asking for help...)]

[Keats blinks, unsure what to even say. Mettaton's singing is...nice, to say the least, but he's going to try his best to ignore that and move to address the problem here.]

What are you doing? This isn't the time for singing!!

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[Hm? What's that?? It's not the time for singing?]

Nothing's gonna hurt you
No one's gonna dare
Others can desert you
Not to worry; whistle, I'll be there

[He's still singing. The group is enraptured and gaining a sort of calm, as they should be. He has the voice of a goddamn angel.]

You said to be the distraction, honeysuckle. Why? Do you need me to come over there?

[headlining]

Shut up.

[His mind races through what possibilities he has. He could try to heat up the ice using his fire, but he could just burn down the door and they'd all be in trouble. Everything else he has at his disposal is frankly destructive and would only make things worse. Mettaton could distract them for ages but that wouldn't just make the ice magically (ha) disappear into thin air.]

[He's at a loss at what to do. And he's being thoroughly distracted by Mettaton's singing because it's good and it has no right to be.]

If you have an idea for making people simply not noticed a door covered in ice (besides SINGING), I'm all ears.