thoughtformed | [Because zombies & amnesia? Yes pls]

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT.

[For a short while, that text is the only communication from him, then a few minutes later, his voice can be heard over the network. He's running, breathing hard, and muttering a litany of curses under his breath in a Texan drawl.]

Fuck shit motherfuckin' fuck. Fucker tried to bite me, what kind of..

[He trails off, panting for breath, and there's a soft sound that would, to anyone familiar with it and still possessing their memory to recall said familiarity, would sound like steel scraping gently over stone. Bro's not had the best of days so far. After waking up somewhere he didn't recognise, suddenly realising he had no idea of even who he was, the icing on the mindfuck cake that had been his morning had been being suddenly assaulted by a shuffling braindead motherfucker who seemed to want to bite his arm off.

Then, there's the sword. He has it, but he doesn't know where it came from.

What alarms him more, is that somehow, he knows how to use it. The hilt fits in his hand as if it was made for it and his muscles had acted as if on instinct. The next thing he knew, the undead creature's head had been rolling away and he'd almost been throwing up as the stench of decay had invaded every sense it could.]

What the hell is goin' on. What are they.. Haha, shit.. I ain't even sure if anyone's listening.. Oh my God..

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lookout! There's more where those came from!

[Sup Bro, you're gonna get a practically half-naked guy running in from an alley and jumping on one of the zombies to just bash it in the face with his bare fists.

Don't try this at home.]

[Bro peers out around the dumpster he's hidden himself behind, and watches with slightly widened eyes as the guy punches one of those things in the face.

Welp.

This is sure someone he wants on his side.]

[Jin stands up from the zombie he'd been wailing on, his knuckles stained with black blood. He sniffs it and then makes a face, letting out a blech and wiping it on his white pants like a dumbass.

The zombie lets out a groan, and he lifts his foot and stomps on it until it stops.]

Ye alrigh' over there?

[He gets up slowly, carefully, sword in hand but held low. His gaze flicks between the dead thing on the floor and the individual who killed it, and a quiet sound of relief forces its way up from his chest.]

Yeah, I'm fuckin' dandy. What the hell is that.

[Jin's pointed ears give a twitch, as he crosses his arms.]

Couldn' tell ye t'be honest. Ain't nothin' I ever seen before. But it don' smell friendly.

Looks like you got the last of them.

[Beat.]

I'd introduce myself, but I'm in the position of not bein' able to remember my own name. Unfortunate, but since I ain't lookin' like the only one I ain't thinkin' on it too hard just yet.

Are you being chased?!

[Anita's voice sounds urgent; she may not know as much about zombies as she used to, but her earlier scuffle with one was enough to tell her that they are bad, bad news. She's got the bite wound to prove it.]

There's a bunch of those -- things -- loose in the city. Try not to engage them! They bite.

Ain't sure. I.. reckon I lost them for now.

[At least for long enough to catch his breath. He lets out a short, humourless laugh.]

Biters. Yeah. I've got the fuckin' memo on that one. I ain't thinkin' I have much choice on engaging them, though.

[There's a pause, and he curses softly.]

They've got my trail somehow. Motherfuck. Gotta move, lady. Stay on the line.

Yeah, don't worry, I'm not going anywhere.

[She sounds tense, and if he's got a good ear, he can hear that she's on the move as well.]

I shot one in the head earlier. Seemed to slow it down, at least.

[Nevermind the fact that she isn't exactly sure how or why she has a gun, but right now, she's not looking a gifthorse in the mouth. She's grateful for it.]

I've been decapitatin' the fuckers. Works well enough.

[After a few minutes, he stalls and jogs to a stop. He'd say he doesn't remember ever seeing anything like this, but he doesn't remember anything except, apparently, how to use a sword.]

Right... Reckon... reckon I'm good. Heard one hell of a noise back there.

Just watch your back and make sure you don't let them sneak up on you, all right? Decapitation should definitely do the trick.

Don't have to tell me twice.

[But he still doesn't know where the hell he is.]

... Ain't supposin' you have any idea what this place is called?

Someone told me it was called New Moore. Whatever that's worth.

Well don't that just smack of 1950s Pleasantville chic. Ain't much, but it's a start.

What about you? Do I get a name to go with the voice?

Anita. Thankfully, there was someone who recognized me well enough to give me that much, though I felt bad that I couldn't recognize her in turn.

Anita. Now all you need is a pretty face to match the voice and the name and you got yourself a full house.

[Bro. Stop.]

Wow.

I don't even have my memories and I'm still pretty sure I'm not the least bit impressed by that incredibly lame pick-up line.

[Anita. Stop.]

C'mon, now. Can't a guy give an honest compliment when it's warranted?

[Both of you, just stop.]

Considering we've never met and you've never even seen my face, from here, it just reads as desperate.

[Still, there might be a smirk behind her voice.]

Don't try so hard.

[There's a slight answering smirk in his own voice as he replies.]

I'll be sure to keep that in mind.

[Pause.]

But back to the situation at hand.. you got a map or somethin'? 'Cause I have no fuckin' idea where I am.

I don't know any better than you do. I've just been making my way around the city on foot. Do you know what you might be looking for?

... Am I supposed to be lookin' for something? Hell, lady, I got out of bed not knowin' who the hell I am, but apparently I ain't the kind of person to lie around waitin' for answers to come to me.

[Pause.]

I guess I'd be lookin' for someone who can fill in the significant blanks.

Ukraine seems to have retained all of her memories. She's the one who told me my name.

Get to high ground if you can.

That.. would be the best idea I've heard all mornin'. So good it's a wonder I ain't had it myself. Except I have, and there's this one massive fuckin' roadblock in the way of it.

[There's a pause, while he ducks into a doorway for a breather.]

I'm gonna level with you, man, I ain't got a single fuckin' idea of where I am. If you can point me in the direction of this fabled 'high ground' I'll be more than happy to head on up that way.

Climb a building. Or just walk uphill. It's an island; any direction away from the waterfront is bound to be an improvement.

You're seemin' pretty fucking informed. Any chance you can clue me in on what's going on?

I don't remember a damn thing. But apparently I'm pretty good at staying alive.

[Because zombies & amnesia? Yes pls]

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