test drive meme: pre-game opening #1

[jumpscare]

___test drive meme: dead weight edition. Step 1 → Post with the character and journal you're wanting to play. Leave the message blank with your Character's Name | Character's Canon. Step 2 → Other people respond to your thread! Fight zombies, deal with the "fictional character" news, whatever you please. Step 3 → ??? Step 4 → PROFIT! Step 5 → Spread the word! Bring a friend! Make a random announcement on D_M! Get this post to crack the hundreds! It doesn't matter if you end up apping or not! This is a place of fun and meeting new people before the waiting!

Text somewhat shamelessly stolen from assguardians.

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Natasha Romanov (codename: Black Widow) | Marvel Cinematic Universe

[ex_spins462]

[antivillain]

[Falls seamlessly into place back to back with her, continuing to fire (bullets, not arrows, not until he knows where to put one to make it kill) into the horde as he comments,]

So which Eastern European codename shall we give this?

[ex_spins462]

[ Her hand tighter on the gun than it perhaps needs to be, Natasha very-nearly-almost smiles, not that he can see. But perhaps he can hear it in her voice. ]

I'd think Haiti would be more apt. Cover my four o'clock.

[ Even as she warns him, she's pulling out more ammunition, reloading one gun as the other keeps firing into the undead with wet smacks. ]

Getting low.

[antivillain]

[He twists around her and fires at his eight (her four)—]

Delmas, then? Never wanted to go there.

[—giving her access to his utility belt in doing so.]

Take mine. I'm getting sick of bullets.

[ex_spins462]

[ Firing blind for a moment, which she isn't quite as good at as he is, Natasha slides her hand along the belt, impersonal despite the intimacy of where her fingers drag... and then unclips the pouch of rounds and moves them over to her own. It's kind of flattering, in its own way. Were he someone else, she'd probably just take the whole thing. ]

[ Her distraction has let the undead press closer, and she focusses cluster fire to press them back, the fallen zombies acting as further impediment to those left behind. But there's so many, and they don't seem to be thinning out. But her face reflects no worry, her tone as cool as ever. ]

Since we're fictional and all, I don't suppose someone wants to write us up a helicopter.

[antivillain]

Yeah, I decided I'm gonna be late reading that memo.

[Ducks so she can fire over his head, then pops back up behind her so they've switched places, and he empties a clip before dropping the gun and reaching for his bow.]

But higher ground is still a good idea. [Not just 'cause he likes it.] Might be able to get us to another building. If another would be an improvement.

[ex_spins462]

[ Natasha rolls with the punches — or gunshots, in this case — and she's willing to slide around to fire over his twitching corpsepile, motions as smooth as if she's dancing. ]

Anything's better than this.

[ It's not actually the dire straits that gets to her. She's been in tighter spots than this, and those are the places where she lives. It's not that she's always gonna be more suited to espionage than a full-on long-haul firefight, because she's smart and skilled, she can improvise. No, the reason Natasha can see the cliff-edge of losing her cool rapidly approaching is because the fuckers don't always stay down. A headshot puts them out, but even if she takes out their frontal cortex ninety percent of the time, that's nine point nine percent who take mortal wounds and keep on shuffling. ]

[ She doesn't like it. She doesn't like anything she thinks she can't keep down. For all they know, the ones with the head wounds are just having a nap. ]

They're thinning out on the left side.

[ Probably because the zombies have to navigate the maze of buildings, while their right is open. But that poses the same problem for them; if they take the alleys, there's more risk of being ambushed. Can creatures like this even stage an ambush? She needs more data. ]

I could really use a cluster bomb right now!

[antivillain]

Yes'm.

[Snaps out the bow, hits a button on the quiver, grabs the prepared arrow, knocks, draws, aims, and fires, all within seconds.

The arrow sails into her mob of zombies, seeming to miss all of them—but once it gets to the far side, it explodes.

Clint ducks and covers, knowing Tasha can do it for herself far better than if he tried to help. While they're still down, a second before he hops back up to fire a normal arrow in the opposite direction, he comments,]

You know I love when you give me orders.

[And after a few more rounds with the zombie horde,]

I've only got one of those left. But I think the ceiling's asking for it. Ready for a grappler ride?

[ooc: It's my one tactical move… ;-) You know I have to hiatus now, so let me know if you want to continue this or not when I get back; and either way, YAY for getting to voicetest together and ILU!]

[housebroke]

[ Automatic rifle in hand, Sark didn't actually feel as if he was any more prepared for this than if he was barging into SD-6's office unarmed. But barricaded behind the walls of a ransacked office building, it was the horde of zombie's outdoors that gave both him and Natasha no choice in the matter.

He shot a glance towards the other woman before looking behind himself, into the depths of the building, seeing nothing to use as protection. Being surrounded was starting to become more and more likely as the seconds ticked by. ]

Now might be the time to form a plan.

[ex_spins462]

[ Natasha assesses her environment before she assesses the man alongside her, her eyes distant as they dart from desk to chair. ]

How much ammo do you have?

[ Her voice is as clipped as her walk as she walks through the room, semi-automatic out and scanning and her other hand dragging out drawers, pulling at cupboards, paper flying from filing cabinets as she wrenches them open violently only to flutter down to the stained carpet with the rest of the detritus. Anything. Anything useful. ]

If we can make the roof, we might be able to cut ourselves a path. Otherwise I'd say hit the basement on full lockdown, see if we can find some vents or piping.

[ Up or down. Both could be trapping themselves in a corner once the horde of undead outside make it inside the building. ]

[callipygous]

[So one weird thing about this everyone is fictional deal is that... people know who Dick is. And far more about him than he'd ever tell anyone, even the people he trusts implicitly. So it's nice hanging out with other superheroes with secrets of their own.

Doesn't hurt that she's a hot redhead.

So now they're doing some sort of patrol/food run/idec thing and it's awesome.]

Zombies. [He shakes his head.] Not so hard to kill, but there are so many of them. Give me a normal supervillain any day over zombies.

[ex_spins462]

Tell me about it.

[ She walks alongside him steadily, eyes scanning their surroundings as they talk, her military precision at odds with the casual tone. ]

You can't out-think a zombie. You can't talk to it, or get it to tell you the plan. There isn't a plan. You just have to shoot it and hope it stays down.

[ And Natasha can manage that well enough, but it isn't her wheelhouse, isn't what she was made for. She'd prefer something understandable to manipulate, not a horde of brainless undead. The sheer impossibility of the situation makes her twitchy. ]

[justmissed]

[Hanna is tired. Beyond tired, actually. She is exhausted, and her leg injury from earlier in the day is slowing her down. But still she stalks the city streets in order to ensure that no enemies remain standing. She is not stupid, but given that she's been told she is fictional and once again everything she thought she knew was a lie, she's reckless. With a desire to at least feel real to herself again, she takes no issue with hacking and cutting her way through a small crowd of the undead with a machete she had acquired.

After the day's events, she is covered in dirt and blood and looks more like a wild heathen than a teenage girl. But she is alive, she is still Hanna, and that is the part that matters to her.

Father always told her that looks could be deceiving, anyway.

Which is exactly why she takes a very brief pause and stares at the redhead that's in her eyesight, while she's still busy taking down the remaining few creatures. She does so with ease, even with the slight limp to her step, and upon finishing just stands there and observes the other woman.]

I do not need assistance, but perhaps you do. Yes?

[ex_spins462]

Ha.

[ Natasha had almost given up hope of seeing another live human again, but somewhere between lowering her head and preparing a grenade and looking up to see how many she could take with her, the girl had appeared. A dirty little angel. She could almost cry. ]

[ She aches all over, and her wrist has an ugly break, but Natasha pushes herself to her feet regardless, digging the soles into the bitumen, tries to flick her hair back off her sweaty, grimy forehead. ]

I'm out of ammo.

[ And out of strength; when the last one hand sent her sprawling, she hadn't been sure she'd be able to get back up before they smothered her. She feels like she's been fighting hand-to-hand for hours; even her bites are out of juice. ]

I need somewhere to hole up. Can we do that?

[ She doesn't even know this girl's name yet, but it doesn't matter. They're both alive, and they're both survivors. ]

[justmissed]

[Hanna slowly nods, her eyes scanning over the woman once again. It does not take a hunter to know this woman is tired. Hanna herself is tired, but hadn't wanted to give in to the exhaustion. But now? Now she has an excuse.]

I would like that. Follow me, I know someplace good.

[And then she's hobbling along toward one of the buildings she squatted in earlier in the day. She's already set up a small camp there, with some blankets she's managed to find. It's not far from the area they're in now, just a block and a half away.]

Are you hurt? [She finally thinks to question that of the other person, and stops shuffling along to turn and really look at her.]

It's not far from here. We should hurry.