Realistic or Modern 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃

[VomitIcicle]

SteepVision IceCave

No time to think, no time to even catch his breath as some old bumbling fuck started jamming his finger and screaming even louder.

He wanted driving?

He'd get driving.

Still high off of the previous adrenaline rush from his brush with death at the hands of one of the infected earlier, James pedaled to the metal, slamming on the accelerator, gunning it towards the ever increasing conga line of the mutilated remnants of the hotel staff and guests. A sudden slam on brakes and a turn of the wheel sent the cars rear shooting forward, bowing over a sizeable portion of the infected. Broken bodies further abused, but still not dead. Messes of twisted limbs, still thrashing their heads and gnawing with hunger.

James honked the horn three times in quick succession, hoping the message to get in the car was made clear. Not like he needed to worry about noise anyway, the scuffle earlier had probably served as more than enough to draw the majority of those afflicted with... whatever this was to their location.

 

[IceCave]

Carlos

Wesson

]

Big, dark, protruding eyes framed by folds of loose skin and fawn fur stared at him. A god damn pug was sitting on the dash of the RV. Carlos hit the ladder, desperately climbing up, kicking one of the fastest maniacs to the head when she tried to dig her fake nails into his exposed legs. Hunched over on the roof and catching his breath, the cop looked around. Few more raced toward him. Fuck, where was the doctor. Did he get that car? Cause Carlos sure as hell didn't hear any engine! On the contrary to the high pitched barking that drew his attention to the open skylight.

Carlos wrestled with his thoughts until he heard distant honking. Thank fuck, Hank didn't leave him. Just like Wesson couldn't leave that damn dog down there to get cooked. He broke off the transparent lid and chucked it to the side, tripping one of the few mindless infected gathering around the RV. Just now turning their heads to the oncoming hybrid.

The cop dove into the cabin, disappearing for a few moments. Then a small ball of fur was tossed up onto the roof and it toppled over to it's butt. The cop re-emerged, the rescue already halting beside the RV. The cop knew there was no way to avoid all the mutilated arms if he tried to climb down the ladder. So he yelled to Hank. "Open the window, doc!" And not wasting precious moments, seeing more crazies running to join the approaching herd, he snatched the pug and took a step back. Darting and springing off the edge he jumped straight to the back of the hybrid, denting the roof with a bang. "Go go go!" He shouted, shoving the dog through the open window, trying to catch himself to the frame to not fall off the roof when the car would lurch forward.

location: street, on the car roof
interactions:
SteepVision
VomitIcicle

♡design by riptide, coded by uxie♡

 

[FactionParadox]

Shaun

Ericsson.

]

“Use the fucking OAR.”

Shit... She was right. His resolve wasn't hardened, despite his physique and muscles, Shaun was a gentle giant normally and preferred a good joke at a bar then a good fight. He'd been in a few scrapes as a kid, but adults were supposed to do better. That's when he noticed the woman shambling towards him, trying to grab at him. The red floral-patterned bikini reminded him of her... Sarah. His ex. His fucking bitch of an ex. It brought it all back, her fuckboy partner, her betrayal, the pain that he felt after she left him after he lost almost everything else.

Fuck this bitch. He wasn't seeing the woman in front of him, but Sarah, standing there and smirking that way she did whenever she thought she got one over on him post divorce. It sparked that primal rage, the pain that came with such an intimiate betrayal. Letting out a roar as terrifying as anything as the zombies could offer, he raised the oar high over his had and brought it down hard with a sickening crunch of bone and blood against the zombie's head as rotting flesh and decalcified skull crumbled beneath the impact and she fell dead on the floor.

He was like a bull seeing red as he charged at the zombie group that took notice of him due to his roar of rage, quickly turning the oar around and spearing one in the gut with the broken end and throwing it over his shoulder where it sprawled on golden sand, not expecting such a violent counter. In an instant, Shaun was spinning around with it like a bo staff as he speared another one through the temple.

Banoi Beachfront near the Surf Shack | Beating the absolute piss out of a zombie | Sterling, U'ilani

♡design by riptide, coded by uxie♡

miyabi

 

[SteepVision]

Hank

Pierce

]

Momentum threw him in his seat. "Jesus Christ." Pierce gripped the door, white knuckled. A body in the road mowed down, legs cut from beneath. Her near naked figure tumbled over the bonnet to hit the windscreen with a smack. Glass cracked, blood splattered. Horror passed before his eyes. Trying to supress the deep, sickening sense of *wrong* in his gut every time the tyres bumped and bounced over more people.

They jolted to a stop beside the RV. "Where the hell did you learn to drive?" Focus fixed on the cop as he hoisted himself from the open sunroof. Something tucked under his arms.

Palms smacked and banged on the back doors. A growing throng surrounding the vehicles. Sandwiched between them. A sharp thud sounding above his head as the cop hit the metal roof. Pierce pressed the electric window, instinct to catch the ball that jettisoned towards him. Warm and squirming. The dog wriggled free of his palms and leap into the footwell, barking as the cop shouted. Go. Go. Go!

He twisted to the driver. For the first time taking in his pale face, mussed hair. Splattered in blood. Wearing the same signs of shock and adrenalin that he did. Pierce fought to keep his voice level and calm. Not to show how fucking shook he really was. “Get us out of here. Okay?! I’m getting in the back.” He warned. Grabbing the headrest to pull from his seat and squeeze between. Voice raised above the engine noise. “I’m gonna open the door! Get in!”

CAR PARK
-

 

[VomitIcicle]

SteepVision IceCave

Fuckity, fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Crazies on all sides, some fucking stranger on his fucking roof, and a fucking...

Dog?

Kinda' cute, in a really ugly way. Scrunched up face, dopey eyes oblivious to the imminent and quite vicarious danger as the mass of flesh surrounding them grew with each second.

James sighed, face still warm with hot blood, hair matted and dirty from his tumble with that crazy bitch on the hood of his car moments ago, his back still aching.

"Fuck my life." He groaned, stepping down hard on the accelerator in an effort to escape the growing horde surrounding the vehicle

 

[Pepsionne]

Sterling

Taylor

]

The stench of death and old blood weighed heavy in the air, coating Sterling’s senses and laying thick in his throat. Every breath was full of it, the nauseating stench of decay. He could only stare wide eyed at the two before him fighting off their undead rivals in the languid heat. It seemed like the humidity had doubled ten fold in the small space, each heaving breath by either the woman or Shaun stoking the dampness around them. Sterling clenched his stomach at the wet sounds of pulverized flesh. He wasn’t built for violence like this. On the screen it was easy, he had played and watched his fair share of violent media, but in person, when droplets of sticky blood only smeared further and refused to disappear from his skin, it was a different story.

“I have an idea,” He said, voice shaky and thin as it hit the air. “Why don’t we get the fuck out of this shack and into some open space. We’re like trapped animals here and I can’t breathe,” He said, wiping his brow to clear some of the dirt and sweat that pooled around it.

Sterling pushed his way out of the small shack, stumbling and tripping over the broken pieces of wood and various items that littered the floor. He stepped in something soft and squishy, an audibly wet squelch sending a wave of nausea over his body, but he swallowed it back. The young man emerged from the shack queasy and covered in a cold sweat, choking back the dry heaves that threatened to wrack his body.

“We still have a car, let’s get in and find somewhere less populated than the main area of the resort,” He offered, doubled over with his hands resting on his knees. His eyes turned over to the abandoned police car in the distance. Several undead wandered around the beach still. It would be easy to outrun them.

Investigating near police car |Focused | FactionParadox miyabi

♡design by riptide, coded by uxie♡

 

[IceCave]

Carlos

Wesson

]

Scratched by nails dragging along the paint and Carlos' skin, the vehicle whined and whooshed past the forming crowd. The cop latched onto the roof, squinting against the wind. Fuck, when would they stop?? Seconds felt like minutes until he heard the familiar voice cut through the rush of air and saw the door swing open in his peripheral vision.

Cursing at the very idea of climbing down there, he started to shift against hot metal. Wesson would slip even through a window with no trouble if they were steady but to a speeding car? Fuck. He had to. "Just drive straight!!" He hollered before carefully manoeuvring his body, lowering into the opening, feet first. No flip flops, just blood and glass.

He could feel strong hands grabbing, supporting, dragging him inside until he'd shoved the door shut. Wesson's chest pulsed with picked up breaths, his whole body trembled, burning adrenaline, and he couldn't help but laugh, basically seated in Hank's lap like a kid. "Hello." He glanced at the rear view mirror, adding to James. "Next time don't zig zag like a maniac if ya taxing someone on the roof, pal." But he wasn't mad, just joking. As his grandma would put it, Holy Mother of Moses, he made it.

location: at the back of the car
interactions:
SteepVision
VomitIcicle

♡design by riptide, coded by uxie♡

 

[SteepVision]

Hank

Pierce

]

Hot, wet air hit his face. The tarmac and white lines blurred with the speed of the car. His heart thudded.

Screaming. Before they pumped his veins full of morphine. Face down on a gurney. The skin shredded from his lateral dorsi to his femoris. Gravel embedded in the bare muscles fibers that twitched and trembled under hospital lights. Seventeen. Wearing sweat-pants and a singlet when he came off an unlicensed dirt bike he'd been riding, 100 mph, down the freeway.

He couldn't fuck this up. Grabbing at the top the second he moved. Grip tight on damp, sweat slick skin, winding an arm around his solid frame and hauling back. The door slammed shut behind them with the force of momentum.

Pierce sagged heavy in his seat. Deep breaths stretched his lungs, the cop's weight restricting his chest. Shoulders shaken with a surprised laugh "Are you-" He blinked sweat from his eyes. The dog, barking. Christ, it was too damn hot. He needed some water. "Are you alright?" His arms felt like they weighed a ton, heavy and trembling, when he shifted the cop's weight from what was virtually his lap. Briefly focusing a more critical eye on his face before he turned to the driver. "We need to get the fuck outta here. Somewhere safe. You seen anyone else... Alive?"

The Hybrid with Flip Flop Cop and Hot Wheels
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