James E. Wilson, MD (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dr_conscience) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
poly_chromatic2013-10-19 11:54 pm
dr_conscience) wrote in poly_chromatic2013-10-19 11:54 pm
Entry tags:
[ 104th consult | video / open action ]
[ I: HOSPITAL ]
It's fortunate that Wilson isn't near the patient rooms when things really take hold - he's down on the first floor, not too far from the entrance, walking from getting coffee back up towards his office. He's not feeling too well, though, as he makes his way back. He stops, and he steadies himself against the wall with a hand, suddenly dizzy.
There's a stinging in his neck, and he doesn't quite have time to react before the surface of his skin rips open of its own accord. The resulting gash is ragged, ripped apart by teeth forced through the flesh they were never intended to pierce. It's a wound some have seen before, though many of those who could tell you where he got it have long since left the City. He falls to his knees and the coffee to the floor.
A few moments later, and he's gone. His body rises, but none of him remains, a deathly pallor seeping into his skin as the blood seeps into the collar of his lab coat. His chest and abdomen are wounded as well, but he moves swiftly in spite of them, on the hunt as he turns back toward the hospital's exit.
[ II: NETWORK ]
When he falls, his device clatters to the floor - the video clip is brief, capturing only the moment as he rises. There is a glimpse of the monstrous being now in Wilson's place before he turns and races away down the hallway and out of sight.
Clearly, he won't be responding.
[ III: CITY ]
He finds his way into the streets of the City out the front door of the hospital. No thoughts remain in his mind; only his hunger. He moves out into the night, on the hunt.
It's fortunate that Wilson isn't near the patient rooms when things really take hold - he's down on the first floor, not too far from the entrance, walking from getting coffee back up towards his office. He's not feeling too well, though, as he makes his way back. He stops, and he steadies himself against the wall with a hand, suddenly dizzy.
There's a stinging in his neck, and he doesn't quite have time to react before the surface of his skin rips open of its own accord. The resulting gash is ragged, ripped apart by teeth forced through the flesh they were never intended to pierce. It's a wound some have seen before, though many of those who could tell you where he got it have long since left the City. He falls to his knees and the coffee to the floor.
A few moments later, and he's gone. His body rises, but none of him remains, a deathly pallor seeping into his skin as the blood seeps into the collar of his lab coat. His chest and abdomen are wounded as well, but he moves swiftly in spite of them, on the hunt as he turns back toward the hospital's exit.
[ II: NETWORK ]
When he falls, his device clatters to the floor - the video clip is brief, capturing only the moment as he rises. There is a glimpse of the monstrous being now in Wilson's place before he turns and races away down the hallway and out of sight.
Clearly, he won't be responding.
[ III: CITY ]
He finds his way into the streets of the City out the front door of the hospital. No thoughts remain in his mind; only his hunger. He moves out into the night, on the hunt.
[ II: NETWORK ]
Because Wilson just turned into a goddamn monster, she's stuck for anything to say.
She turns off her device with a decisive click and resolves to stay under the covers until midnight rolls around.]
no subject
It doesn't take a steth or a check of his carotic to certify Wilson this time. Almost as soon as he turns the corner facing him, Chase is ready to hand out a verification of life extinct. And it kind of sucks, but a little moreso considering whatever's inhabiting his colleague's body now just looks hungry. And Chase has run into the undead in this hospital before, and it's not a memory he's been looking to revisit with someone he's more fond of.
So he does the sensible thing. He backs the hell up, fumbling for the phone in his coat pocket.]
no subject
Which he does, arms outstretched and his lips twisted into a snarl. He's clearly not moving properly, but he's by no means the slow, lumbering undead that feature in older genre films. He doesn't pay any mind to his injuries, persisting in defiance of the physical state of his body. ]
no subject
Get out. Go the other way!
no subject
And what's that? More than one target in this direction? That keeps him pressing forward. Even if Chase gets away, at least there are clearly options this way. ]
[ III: CITY ]
This is obviously a resident of the City but he doesn't really recognise Wilson. Maybe it's because they've never met before. The blood on his coat and the colour of his skin make him feel like backing up, getting out. But he can't. ]
Doc?
no subject
So he turns instead with a low growl in his throat, as his eyes lock onto Bucky. And he moves in that direction - not swiftly, but not quite a lumbering zombie. He'd be much faster were his body not so battered. ]
no subject
Then again, Bucky's not exactly the kind of guy to walk away and let someone else deal either. Because the next person to run into him could be someone who hasn't had training with nasty things. Of course, his is mostly HYDRA and not zombies but same difference. ]
Please tell me I can get through to you, 'cause otherwise this is gonna get messy and I'm gonna feel bad about it tomorrow.
btw you can totally take him out of commission, I just prefer he not end up actually dead? XD
There aren't any words, just that feral rumbling from his throat as he moves forward. ]
oh good i was gonna pm you.
Nobody's a real villain when Bucky wants them to be. ]
Doc, this ain't like you --. [ Is it? Who knows! ]
yyy he can be injured since... it is probably a good idea to do so
Bucky moving back inspires Wilson forward, half-stride and half-lunge as he tenses his arms to strike. He's been through a few confrontations now, enough that he's not too steady or swift on his feet, but his condition clearly does not bear much significance to him. ]
how do you feel about being shot in a non-vital part? or maybe punching him out idk idk.
Well fuck, the other guy just needed talkin' down. [ He's panicking and the guy keeps coming. ]
non-vital shooting is totally okay with me <3
no subject
Quitting time comes along. He'll be making his way to the exit too. Oh ho. There is Wilson making his way to the door.
From behind he looks normal just...a little drunk.]
Yo.
no subject
He does stop in his tracks at the sound of the voice - a bit unsteady on his feet, he turns gradually, and he faces House.
There is no recognition in his eyes - no intelligence at all, really, just hunger. He bares his teeth, ready. ]
no subject
Oh-hooooo.
[He recoils at the teeth and the very distorted expression. His floral cane is not a weapon. Just as he knows that the hospital would not have anything useful to him as one this close to the exit. Two slow steps backwards allow him a little time to think. Only a little.]
no subject
His purposeful lunge towards House is more pounce than stride, though undoubtedly he can't close the distance via that motion alone. ]
no subject
[Too late! And the closer a look he gets the more he can see that reaching out to him inside his state of zomification is useless. The cane is up between them like a guard. House falls back. Damn the unsteady nature of a strong leg and the necrotic one. At least there's part of a wall for them to collide into.]
You couldn't have used a mint before right now.
[Humor for himself and no one else. Seeing enough zombie movies makes him regret not being better armed. Sorry Wilson but he's going to have to resort to an experimental fighting tactic that is widely frowned upon.
House kicks Wilson in the balls.]
no subject
While he's not particularly moved by pain, but there is a certain neurological connection that remains - when the kick connects, he stumbles backwards and slumps. For all the primal force driving him, the damage he's sustained makes it so that throwing him off balance is not terribly difficult. As he falls, he also growls. ]
[i: hospital]
Hey! James, you holding up?
[i: hospital]
The name means nothing to him, nor do the other words, but the sound draws his attention nonetheless. Hunger.
He turns toward it, first his head and then - gradually - his body, in such condition as it is. When his eyes lock on her, it's strictly predatory.
He is... not holding up, no. ]
[i: hospital]
This is stupid, Joan thinks. This is stupid, I'm going to be eaten by a zombie and what are they going to tell my parents?
She whirls around to run, her mind playing through every zombie movie she's ever seen... Not the parts where the survivors make a new life. The bits in the middle with all the blood. ]
[i: hospital]
Of course, under his present circumstances, there is not quite enough brain activity for that. All there is is instinct, feral rage, and hunger, and it drives his body forward under no other motivation, lunging the burden of his battered body after her. ]
i: hospital]
Because that's what she's decided that she needs to do. Going out into the street again doesn't guarantee her any kind of cover. Those things might be out there too, and she certainly wasn't equipped to climb trees. If she can get into a room, she'll have options. (Assuming that a zombie isn't in it already. God, this is horrible.) She'll be able to improvise some kind of weapon, maybe. She'll at least feel safer.
So off she goes, clattering down the hall. Maybe she's imagining it but she feels like he's breathing down her neck.
Then again, he probably isn't breathing, is he? ]