[He's at a bar, his sword by his side. The ghouls can leave even him a bit on edge.]

Wonder whether this weekend will be as fun as the last.

Not for all of us, I should think.

[Isn't that right, Karl?]

[Nobori is walking in the darkness, unnoticable in his black coat, except when he's caught by the splashes of red that dimly illuminate the Underground.

He's walking at a steady pace at first, stopping twice before resuming. The third time he stops, after hearing the footsteps trail after his for a moment longer before they quiet, he knifes into the black in a run, grinning darkly in pursuit of his own pursuer.

Nobori leads him on for a while before abruptly turning back and cornering him, a red-white sphere in hand. The red lights reveals his tail: his mirror image, wearing the same grin that he stole from Nobori's face, otherwise differing only in the putrefied, peeling flesh and his attire: light where Nobori's uniform was dark...

The air smelled thickly of rotting flesh and despair.]

It's your fault.

[Unsummoned, Chandela appears on its own, in a flash of white light, cutting in between them just as the ghoul reaches out with gloved hands peeling like onions (the glove exposing skin and skin exposing bone) to ring around his stunned copy-in-black's neck.] Your fault!

Shashande, shaaandela-shan...[{Nobori-sama, that's not your brother} is likely what it's trying to convey, not even half-convinced by the ghoul, having seen this trick before, but its trainer is more easily deceived.]

[Doc appears on-screen, visibly shaken. He's in his laboratory, the DeLorean barely in the frame behind him. Anyone who has seen it before has likely seen it a mess as he set himself about a flurry of work, but it's in a far worse state now: it's not the work of someone working, but of a struggle, papers and components, odds and ends all over the place. He swallows hard, and speaks gravely.]

I very seriously doubt I need to stress the gravity of our situation to anyone; however, I wish to offer assistance to anyone who is in need. I have a vehicle, which I am more than willing to provide safe transit in as needed. I would provide a safe haven as well, were that possible. However...

[An uncertain glance off to the side.]

My laboratory has already been infiltrated. The... issue has been dealt with, and contained, the structure since fortified, but I very much doubt anyone would feel comfortable staying here.

[There's a loud banging in the background, and Everett barks in response. That's the only hint of what's going on as he cuts off the feed, the last visible frame one of him turning toward the noise.]


[ooc: at work now, tags later]

This is Captain Steve Rogers, and I'm calling this a state of emergency.

If you see one of those things - I recommend that if you don't have any fighting skills that you run and get help. There are a lot of people here who will help you. I've been on patrol, and I know that others are too.

Now, does anyone know what these are? How to kill them? Why they look like people we know? Is there a precedent? Are there are ideas to get rid of them?

We need solutions and we need them now.


[ooc: please feel free to threadjack with ideas, have conversations between characters, ask for help. Steve will be around town if your character needs help!]

[ In hindsight, attaching his network device to the TARDIS mainframe might have been an awful idea. Because this way the feed is taking in the entire scene playing out inside her very corridors from high up, like the device is now part security camera.

It's a mess of noise and confusion, the Doctor backed slowly down the corridor by rotting figures in Gallifreyan robes. One of them is holding a Dalek stalk between bloodied and black fingers, but he's not the one the Doctor can't look away from. Half of Rassilon's face is missing, empty skull staring at him impassively. tongue rolling in his jaw as he speaks. ] You killed us.

[ The Doctor stumbles as he skids back, away from Rassilon's outstretched hand, leaving a scrap of fabric in his grip. ] You killed us.

[ Suddenly a door slams out of nowhere, the TARDIS closing off that part of the corridor herself. Her inhabitant leans heavily on the walls, a hand idly curled into a soothing gesture. ] Thank you, dear. [ Jumping when something heavy hits the door. He can still hear the screaming coming from the other side, face a mask of pain. ] I'm sorry, I had to, I had to.

[ An alarm blares and he turns immediately, running down the corridor.

Moments later, his post now shows the console room. He's leaning against it, bruises already blooming against his jaw. A klaxon screeches from somewhere and the TARDIS lights seem dim and unhappy. He'd made sure the Master and Amy were gone, made sure he was the only one inside the TARDIS and now his hands move over a set of keys with purpose. A line of green letters appear just below him on screen Security override: TARDIS lockdown imminent. ]

I can't let them out. [ He sounds apologetic. ] I don't know what they'd do. This is the only way. [ More firm. ] Stay in groups, stick together, don't go wandering off. Don't let them scratch or bite you. Don't let them inside your heads. [ A sigh, his shoulders dropping. He can hear the sound of feet dragging, can hear a whisper somewhere behind him. Donna. 'You let me down.' ]

Amelia? Stay safe.

[ And with that he reaches over to turn the feed off. ]

[Garrus sits on top of his apartment building, with his sniper rifle in hand. Currently he's just looking through the scope, on lookout.]

Okay, so these things are tougher than they look. And I thought husks were bad.

[He sees something down below that makes him pause.]

Mordin..?

[A pause, and then he leans against the air vent, setting his rifle aside. He addresses his device.]

If anyone needs help, call me.

I had forgotten the depths of the cruelty of which the City was capable.

~C.

[ooc: tl;dr incoming--Cain just had to kill a ghoul version of Suzette. It all happened off-stage, but (gore warning; proceed with caution)...she seemed almost to have just arrived in the City as another newcomer. This, of course, is not true at all, and Cain was suspicious, though also hopeful--maybe she had been brought into the City. But, she attacked him, of course. Cain tried to shoot her (having taken to carrying his pistol with him after the ghouls starting showing up), but failed in striking her sufficiently in the head or heart (perhaps as much because he couldn't bring himself to as anything). Caught in her grip and trying to escape, he ended up having to beat the ghoul to death with a fireplace poker. She did succeed in biting him--several times. So he'll be feverish fairly soon hereafter. If anyone needs him, he'll be sitting before that same fireplace with (or perhaps watching over) the manged remains, still bloodied and bruised and bitten. Please consider all responses to be somewhat delayed in coming. Also: no filters!]

[The view is from quite high up, looking down on the corpse of a man going mental in and alleyway.  Jumping and reaching for Isaac who's perched out of reach on a tall brick wall, just don't ask how he got up there.]

City, meet my dad.  My dead dad.  I've been seeing the asshole for about a week, I thought I was losing my fucking mind!!!

Everything smells dead and rotting.  This zombie apocalypse shit is way cooler in movies.  

[Charlie doesn't sound much like herself right now. Unless someone knew her well, then they'd recognize the calm, even tone she used when something was Serious and she was at her limit.]

The Dragon is closed until further notice. Stay safe. Stay away from the Dragon.

[There's crashing behind her, angry shouts and thumps and the sounds of things being slammed around. And then a gravelly, slurred voice speaks.

"Your dad plays a mean game of Golf, Charlie..."

From the sudden sounds, Charlie's fumbled the device and the video kicks on long enough to show the interior of the Dragon's kitchen and a pale, slightly rotted man approaching. He looks as though he's been dead for a couple weeks, at least, and there's a leaking bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. He speaks again, reaching slowly for Charlie who's backing away carefully.

"Your...fault, Charlene. Your fault. We just wanted to help. You're ours, Charlene. We made you."]

You're still a god damn liar, Hollister.

[Charlie's still calm when she speaks, despite how pale her skin has gone and the look of 'oh shit' on her face and the feed from the device wavers instantly, a sign that things are going to get very hot, very fast.

The man is engulfed in flames a moment later and the feed shuts off as Charlie's hand wraps around a frying pan and she swings.]


[ooc: charlie's taking care of hollister at the dragon and will be hurrying immediately home after. if anyone wants help with their ghouls, let me know! charlie's good for fire, at the very least. rainbird will come later.]

[The video shows a rotting more humanoid version of this creature walking. The angle of the video feed is high, from above. If anyone mistakes it for an accident, the voice that follows - obviously Setsuna's to those who know him - cold, concentrated and demanding, will reassure it is not.]

That one's mine. No one else touch it!

[Just before it shuts off, as the video feed catches random snatches of night, he speaks to the creature, unknowing he hasn't turned the device all the way off just yet.]

Stay right there, "God"!

[Action;]
[Six wings fully out, Setsuna's already covered in grime, as if he's been at this all day, to no avail. But this one.... He's now ignoring anything and everything else, mind completely focused on the ghoul he called God. He lands, already hacking away at it.]

[Action Afterwards;]
[It's a satisfying feel when his blade sinks in. This wouldn't be possible - not such a direct blow - back home, so he takes it here as his sword stabs through the heart. When the ghoul dies, Setsuna stops, his purpose gone. He might just start swinging again as there are still more to practice on. And since they don't die he can keep at it. Approach him with caution.]




[ooc: Video responses after he's done, clearly. Feel free to help, or talk to him afterwards.]

[Jimmy is heading towards the hospital, limping more heavily than usual, face pale and drawn, as though he's seen a ghost. And given what's been going on lately, he certainly has. He's taken out his phone to post a short message, and he sounds out of breath.]

If anyone knows... what the hell's going on, what the fuck is... just... I wanna know. I wanna know how this is possible.

[Another few ragged breaths, and the hospital is in view.]

I'm... going to the hospital. I think I'm sick. I dunno.

[Pushing open the door to the hospital, he immediately looks around, calling out.]

I need a doctor!

[[OOC: Feel free to run into Jimmy in the hospital or on the way, or over the network. He isn't actually sick, he just has no idea how to deal with the emotions that this curse is stirring up.]]

[ Bucky's crouched just above a body, bloody fingers searching a pocket. He manages to angle it so that most of the gore and grime isn't displayed but so that it does show the uniform. Because as much as he's a soldier he gets that most people should be kept far, far away. ] Anyone recognise the uniform? Kinda feel like we should know if an army's on the loose around here.

[ Bucky's luck has been ticking away since the moment the curse started, the alleyway darkens slightly, a shadow falling over him and the body. Bucky twists, starts to speak out, to get whoever it is to back off and leave. But Bucky's whole body tightens in fear, the device picking up the widening look of terror in his eyes just before it slips out of his fingers. ]

Hail HYDRA! [ In a flash his gun comes up, a burst of sound as he fires straight into the creatures chest. Blood hits the wall but Bucky's already moving, on his feet in seconds, device kicked in a clatter against the stones. Another noise filters through and he twists on his feet. ] Cut off one head.

I get it, I get it. [ Voice strained, nothing but gunfire for a long, drawn out beat. He's backed against a wall, but they're just HYDRA agents, they're just --. ]

We made you. [ A figure steps into the mouth of the alleyway, the feed picking up the edge of a white lab coat, the swing of a bloodied needle. The man's head is bowed, but the light reflects against his glasses, smile wide and unhinged. ] We made you.

[ Another step. ] You belong to us.

 When abnormalities were mentioned, I didn't think they'd take this level.

[ This time George isn't dripping with water, but he still looks very distressed. But at least his make-up is on properly now and his hair is styled. Apparently he's found himself an empty apartment to reside in. Currently, he's leaning against the closed door of it. From outside, noises of ghouls can be heard. ]

I've dealt with a great number of paranormal beings in the past, but zombies are new to even me. If there is anybody who has experience with the living dead, I have a question. Is there any way of returning them to normal?

[ George doesn't consider it likely. But even so, this thought alone has kept him from shooting them in vital areas. Because if this wasn't a trick, if this were the people they looked like... George wouldn't want to be the one to end them once and for all. It's hurtful enough, seeing them like this, but George wouldn't admit to it. ]

On a less theoretical note, I'll run out of bullets in a foreseeable time. Can anybody supply me with some more ammo for my gun?

[ He hates having to ask strangers for all these things, when usually he had an army of agents at hand for it, but what can he do? ]

This can't go on much longer, it can't...

[Rapunzel's barricaded herself in her room, locked the door behind her and blocked the window with her dresser.

Despite her efforts to keep the ghouls now terrorizing the City out, they're still near, and one in particular is tormenting her, tapping and scratching at her window.]

Rapunzel...let down your haaaair~! Mother needs you to sing for her...you don't want Mother to waste away out here, do you?

No, no, go away! You're not real, you can't be here, not like this....

[Mother Gothel, rotting away, is terrorizing her daughter, doing everything in her power to get to Rapunzel.]

I just need your hair, flower...sing for Mother and it'll be all over...Mother knows what's best for you, so let down your hair and let me iiiinn~!

GO AWAY!!!

[Rapunzel sobs and curls into herself. She's been hiding in her for about a day now, but she's running low on supplies and she'll need to leave soon, but if she leaves, she'll be exposing herself to the ghoul of her 'mother'...]

Go away, go away, go away...maybe...Maybe if I move quickly I can get someplace safe without her noticing...why didn't I grab my frying pan before coming in here...

[ooc: Open action, video, whatever. Gothel is in a particularly interesting state of decay; specifically, she's a wizened old woman who's skin is crumbling off like dust.

I've been here two whole fucking years and this is some new brand of fucked up shit. They don't stay down.

Officer in the southeast quarter, call it in if you need assistance.

[Chase is in one of the hospital pathology labs, a centrifuge whirring away on the desk in front of him. He's flicking through a messy looking sheaf of paper.]

I'm starting to understand why the City Guide has an entire section on zombie handling strategy. Someone told me they used to be a regular problem, here. Anyone long-term enough to be able to tell me about that?

[He's about to ask another question, but a second voice, deep and rolling, curiously accented, interrupts.]

What is an enemy to you, Doctor?

[Chase's head snaps up. He takes a gasp as though the breath has been punched out of him.]

You're not here. You're never really h—

[But the voice comes again, and as Chase moves, the picture on his device swings to show a man in a tattered, bloodied surgical gown, the flesh rotting away from his face.]

Men make choices.

[The zombie sweeps a rack of equipment to the floor, and the screen goes black.]



[ooc: Chase's ghoul is Darth Vader Mufasa James Earl Jones Dibala, the genocidal dictator of a small African nation, who he murdered shortly before arriving in the city. Dibala will be/have been around for a little bit to bother anyone at the hospital.]