Test Drive

[travelagency]

Test Drive Ladies and gentlemen and others, robots and augments, cybernetic lifeforms and entities of all sorts, if I may please have your attention for just a moment, we at the Blackstaff Resort need your assistance. Our lovely little town is under threat of attack, but with your help we can both prevent further harm. These artificially spawned creatures could be described as zombies, and unfortunately they are infectious to the indigenous populations of this universe. You brave souls have the great fortune of being immune to their bites. Therefore, your assistance would be most invaluable in this endeavour. You could potentially save the poor citizens who have already been bitten and succumbed to the illness, return them to their healthy state, as well as the ones still attempting to lead normal lives. In return for your service, if you should volunteer, we will finance your room and board throughout your stay. Moreover, we will arrange for a specific request to be granted at the end of your contract. Should you wish to go to a universe where your parents still live, should you wish a custom home built to your specifications, should you wish to meet your favorite famous personality (current or historical), we will arrange any of this for you. So valuable to us are your efforts. Please speak to a travel agent if you might be interested, and thank you for listening. This is the Test Drive for the Last Resort. This test drive will be canon both if you're accepted, or if current players want to acknowledge a thread as part of their in game canon (almost like a 4th wall post). For more information on what's going on, here is our news broadcast and OOC post. If you get bored and want to follow up on some of the history? Check out the news tag. Test Drive starters are required on applications. Prompts Recruitment People need to be recruited from their home universes, so current and would be travel agents should stop in and convince them to come along for the ride. Because, really, who wouldn't want to deal with zombies? Wrangling Being able to one day save the infected, the ones that were once people, seems very likely according to the scientists in the lab and in the clinic. Therefore Jeffers has offered a sort of sancturary: rooms in his resort in a cornered off section specifically meant to hold those zombies so they don't walk out into daylight and die. Imports have yet to catch the infection, or show no symptoms of having done so even months after being bitten. So during curfew hours the few straggling villager zombies (though they're often unfortunate criminals who were trying to sneak around or absent minded idiot vacationers) need to be captured intact. If they don't look like spawner zombies, then they're to be treated with care and moved to one of the rooms. Before dawn, of course. Extermination Spanwer zombies, however, are fair game. And like with all hostiles in the world, they have a bounty on them. They're not much of a problem during the day, but outside the walls at night they litter the countryside as the spiders, the skeletons, and the creepers do. Time Off The odd thing is, during the day? The village doesn't seem to care that they're in constant danger. The sense of community is strong, and people seem bizarrely obsessed in coming and seeing the dangers. Tourists and sight-seers do business with the locals who are very happy to have it again. Senseless though it seems with the trouble of occasional shambling aggressors or quiet toodling green grenades, the people of blackstaff are conducting their lives as normal outside of their curfew. Navigation

Comments

[smeg_off]

Wrangling
[Lister has been at this for twenty minutes, and theoretically he thought it would be easier. But the problem is, there's what obviously used to be an amazingly buxom blonde with legs for days that is clawing at the bottom of the tree that he made his way up that needs to be led back to the resort. But there's also a couple of those horror faced things and who knows how they used to get in.]

[The fact of the matter is a pair of legs that nice should carry on and deserve to be saved, and while that fills him with determination he's still not too keen on slobbered over as a well-made spicy curry whether or not he is capable of being infected. With as much as he's eaten in his lifetime he must be thoroughly basted with flavour as well.]

At least there's a woman that would want Rimmer. There had to be one somewhere in the universe.

Down Time
[When Dave shows up at Pugsy's in the middle of the day, he's just woken up. Alcohol for breakfast? It seems like a fantastic idea to him. After the night he had, he deserves it.]

[He looks like he could almost be one of the shambly sorts outside as he drops onto a stool.] If I give you the most explicit instructions, we're talkin' museum fossil reconstruction specific and an impressive tip, would it be possible for you to start me off with a beer milkshake?

Agent K | Men in Black

[most_feared]

Extermination
[If there is any time that Agent K is in his element, it's when something needs to die. It's hard to believe this primly dressed man with a grandfatherly tone that looks (and sounds) more like he should be giving guided tours of a museum can be so flatly ruthless, but there it is.]

[And he's attentive. He is checking before he shoots, even if it only takes a microsecond to determine.]

[After one more Zombie's head explodes into a mess, he stops to check his motion tracker and turns in place to better find a quarry. With his other hand he tosses his silvery shotgun up to grab the sliding pump, uses the force of swinging it to send another charge into the chamber, and then grabs it by the handle again. All without looking at it. Gun safety is questionable, except he knows that gun well enough to handle it like that.]

Alright, one's over here. [He calls out to anyone nearby, hoping the wiley little shit would come towards his voice.]

Saïx | Kingdom Hearts

[penumbral]

[ wrangling ]

[Saïx is no longer having a good day.

Witness: Saïx, dressed in a black T-shirt, tucked into black pants, tucked into tall black boots, trying to lure someone wearing his black coat, with the hood up, across the bridge. He seems to be using himself as bait, especially if the bruises and bite marks on his arm are anything to go by.

He definitely doesn't look like he's having a good day.

Certainly, he could have grabbed the offending villager zombie by the arm and used a corridor of darkness to transport them to the quarantine room. But he learned, very quickly, the toll it takes on him to utilize them shortly after his arrival on this world. Corridors are no longer easy and convenient to use; they are positively exhausting. And it's midday. It's his lunch break. Saïx has another five hours of work to complete yet.

And so, it has come... to this. Saïx, with a great deal of effort and an irritating amount of being gnawed on, managed to wrap the zombie best he could in his Organization coat. With the length of the body and the sleeves, as well as the hood up, it pretty well keeps the zombie covered -- and, thus, safe from the sun. Now, all he has to do is escort the damn thing to the resort.

On foot.

The zombie has officially gotten Too Close, so it's time to move. Saïx dares to look away from it long enough to make sure he isn't going to trip over anything as he takes several more steps back... but therein lies his mistake. Because, of course, as soon as he looks away from the creature, it gets distracted. By another possible food source who doesn't keep slipping out of its grasp (namely: You, whoever You are).]

Do not, [Saïx growls, as if the zombie might obey.

It doesn't. It continues lumbering towards the other passerby or observer. He snaps his gaze in that direction, scowl intensifying.] Either help, or find another way around.

[domesheriff]

[Time Off]

[after a long night on patrol, followed by getting less than enough sleep, Linda has decided to visit Mog's Malts--mainly because it's one eating establishment she never visited during her first soujourn in Blackway. also when waking up tired in the middle of the day, what sounds better than sugar? so she's quietly sipping at a chocolate milkshake at the counter, looking tired and thoughtful as she people-watches]

[being the social person that she is, though, if anyone joins her, she'll be all too glad for the chance at conversation]