fh_trips | Girls With Guns trip [Monday afternoon]

Triela took a slow look around the central atrium where the portal dropped them off and frowned to herself a bit. The place looked... different from the last time they'd been here. After a moment she shrugged dismissively. It had been nearly a month, and things changed. Besides, it wasn't that much different. A little bit more run-down than before, but it sort of was an abandoned mall. No on was paying to keep the place nice.

Anyway, there was paintball to play!

She gave everyone some time to mingle and get the socializing out of their system. After a bit she caught Algren's eye and nodded. "Okay people," she raised her voice, "here's how it's going to work. Most of you have been assigned a partner. When I read the list you should grab a gun, a mask, and some ammo and find your partner. Check each other to make sure your masks are secure because we don't want anyone losing an eye."

"When I give the signal you'll have a five minute grace period. No one shoot during those five minutes so you've got time to get some cover. Once those five minutes are up, it's open season. We'll meet back here in," she paused and checked her watch, "one hour to catch the portal home. Don't be late. Now listen up because here are your partners:

Algren and Sokka
Helen and Turtle
Naomi and Lion-o
Dinah and K-Mart
Agnes and Momoko
Dojima and Romeo

"If I didn't call your name then you're on your own." She grinned. "Good luck with that."

"Any questions?" Triela paused just long enough to look around and catch everyone's eye. "Your five minutes starts now."

[Quick OOC note: just remember that no one gets bitten on this trip, so keep that in mind with your pings. Up early for time zones, and OCD ~~on the way~~ is here! Get to it!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I wasn't planning on letting anything bite me on this trip, Sokka!" Algren fired off a few more paintballs and frowned. They weren't exactly the most effective weapon when there was a dead thing walking toward them, were they?

He kicked at a chair on the way to Sokka and frowned. Of course, malls had to cement them to the floor nowadays, didn't they? No good.

"We'll need to find a more effective weapon," he stated, stepping up beside Sokka and firing a few more shots. This hadn't been in his contract, had it? "What in the world would they have in this area?"

"In the FOOD COURT??!?!" Sokka asked, gaping at him. "Nothing helpful!" He kept grabbing reflexively at the empty leather sheath that was strapped to his back.

"I need you to think VERY CAREFULLY, because I wasn't paying attention -- the students who came on the trip: were any of them named 'Summers' or 'Winchester'???"

Discussion was good. It gave the zombie time to shamble its way slowly across the food court. In fact, if Sokka and Algren would just find a comfy seat and talk for a bit that'd be great.

It would also provide plenty of time for those other zombies, the ones coming in from one of the other hallways that opened onto the food court, to reach them too.

"Miss Summers and Mister Winchester aren't here," Algren yelled, spotting the other zombies making their way in. Excellent. They had brought friends. "Look for an exit, now!"

He was pushing past Sokka, jumping over one of the counters and into one of the fast food kiosks. There had to be something with some weight in there, at least, that could be used. Or a knife. Or...

A french fry basket.

... It was better than nothing.

"What's wrong with the way we came IN?" Sokka demanded. He started searching behind the counter for something, anything, that could be used as a weapon. "You have to decapitate them, or bash their heads in, otherwise they don't die!" he called. Darn stupid place seemed to be cleaned out, and he REALLY didn't want to try to make it to the next one down. Just a lot of... salt shakers. Well, Mr. Winchester had said that when in doubt, salt usually worked... It was worth a shot, anyways.

So he grabbed an armful and threw a salt shaker at the nearest zombie.

All that boomerang work must have helped because the salt shaker hit the zombie right between the eyes.

Unfortunately that didn't actually accomplish anything because the zombie was still coming, apparently undeterred by the salt. The ones coming in from the other direction were starting to get close now, too. And all of them were moaning.

Foooooood.

The fry basket flew from Algren's hand on a collision course for another one of the closer zombies, and then Algren made a reach for whatever was closest.

The cash register.

When in doubt, swing large, heavy objects about at the head of whatever hideous creature happens to be closest. That was probably the best plan Algren could come up with, when faced with a wall of walking corpses.

"Yeah, I'd thought of that," Sokka lied, "but some of us aren't strong enough!"

He chucked another salt shaker at the zombie, and kept looking for something better. "What kind of KITCHEN has no KNIVES!??!" he demanded.

The fry basket wasn't all that big, but it was metal and weighed more than a salt shaker. Also: zombies have poor balance. The one hit by Algren's impromptu projectile fell down. Of course it immediately started to get back up again, even if its head did look a bit lopsided.

The cash register was a different story. Zombies don't dodge very effectively, after all, and anything hit by something that heavy was going to break. Even zombies go down if you can deliver enough blunt force trauma.

Algren was finding himself to be a sudden fan of blunt force trauma, tonight.

He swung again, and one more time for good measure, though the weight of the cash register was more than a bit much, and it wasn't really made to be a weapon. He was going to tire himself out this way.

"Keep close, Sokka. I can't keep throwing this thing around forever. We're going to have to run for it."

"I can HANDLE MYSELF," Sokka protested indignantly. "Have YOU seen zombie movies? I think not!"

That didn't keep him from coming out from behind the counter and sticking close. ONE of them had a useful weapon, after all.

"What we need," he grumbled, "is a few swords. Or maybe a good polearm."

Unfortunately none of the zombies seemed to be carrying convenient weaponry, and the food court wasn't medieval in theme, so there weren't swords or polearms around.

What there were, however, was more zombies. Another five or six were shambling slowly toward the two humans and their cash register.

"I'm fresh out of polearms and my sword is still in 1876," Algren huffed, heaving the cash register up again, wincing, and then giving his head a shake. "And this is too damn heavy to keep swinging around like this. On the count of three, we make a run for it."

Sokka nodded. "I'm LIKING this plan. Especially since these zombies are the slow kind. I'm right behind you."

The zombies were also behind them. But rather far behind them. Sokka was right, after all, these were the slow kind. Still, the portal wasn't due back for a bit yet, they had time...

Girls With Guns trip [Monday afternoon] - Paint Ball!

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