Saturday Night at the TARDIS

[prof-cregg.livejournal.com]

Once the Doctor is asleep, CJ realizes she has a problem. Perhaps a big problem. She is starving and has no clothes.

But then she has an idea.

Quietly and carefully she opens the closet and pulls out one of his shirts and puts it on. It fits her, but is snug in spots. She crosses to the dresser and finds a pair of boxers...pants, he calls them. She smiles and looks over at him sleeping.

Dressed, she quietly opens the door and walks out to find food. mparker16 is sleeping on a couch, and CJ looks around for the others. She wanders, trying to find a kitchen-type room.

Cavanaugh residence

[katefreckles.livejournal.com]

After being holed up in the morgue for nearly two days Jordan, Woody, Tru, and Kate return to the Cavanaugh residence.

Late Saturday/Early Sunday...

[valentine-tart.livejournal.com]

In the TARDIS...

Beka Valentine:
I'll take first watch?

Jack O'Neill:
Damn. I can't believe I didn't think about that. I must be tired. Wake me up in four for my watch, okay?

Beka:
*nods, then smiles* Get some sleep. I'll be back in four.

Beka doesn't feel itchy-staticky anymore. It probably isn't necessary, her and Jack trading watches. But her intuition isn't always right. Being observant and pragmatic kept them alive through two nights of zombie-hell. No good reason to stop now. Not without proof it's over.

Tired, bloody, in zombie-stew stiff leather, Beka moves out of the TARDIS. After she establishes the perimeter, she'll range farther toward town, and have Ghost take her to check in on her friends in the dorm.

For just a moment, she stands outside and stares up at the black, wondering which one of those unfamiliar stars lit the world of her birth. Then she palms her pulse weapon and starts walking.

Outside Black Books.

[mannybianco.livejournal.com]

Manny has been out of town for a couple of days, visiting Moo-Ma and Moo-Pa. He'll be deeply grateful if he never hears another knuckle cracking, never hears "Chatanooga Choo-choo" again. As he walks through town towards the shop, he can't help but be struck by the mess. He pauses, sets down his suitcase, and looks around. He picks something up from the ground, and studies it.

Doc Martin boot, size eleven, black leather. Foot still included.

He touches a finger to the bloodied stump, and licks it experimentally.

Hmm. Male, mid-thirties. A builder. European ... British.

He tastes again.

Scotland ... Dundee? No... Arbroath... The west side, near the estuary. Possibly lived near the golf club.

He drops the limb, picks up his suitcase, and walks on. He arives at the shop, and looks with dismay at the heap of dismembered body parts piled up in front of the door.

Oh, Bernard, I leave you alone for two days, and look what happens.

He starts shifting the flesh away from the door, stacking it neatly by country of origin.

Edit: Have now gone round to the church.

At the Church

[feck-arse-girls.livejournal.com]

The priest had been sleeping, naked, on the Altar. Early on Sunday morning, he awoke with a start.

Feck!

He stumbled out of the sacristry, through the choir, and cast his good eye round the church. He noted the small group of people asleep on the pews, the emergency provisions dotted around.

Feck!

He pushed the west door open and strode out onto the street. His foot hit something ... he bent down to pick it up. It was a severed arm. He looked around at the scenes of carnage. His eyes widened.

Zombies!

He retreated back to the church and strode through to the vestry. Minutes later he emerged clothed in his finest fighting cassock, carrying a heavy candlestick three or four feet long. He looked angry ... very angry indeed. This was a priest who'd encountered this menace before, many years ago. One of the few who'd survived the assault on the Seminary at Ballymonkey in the early fifties. He had good reason to hate the zombies. He looked -- he could still see the tiny flecks of blood and brains hiding in the ornate carving at the end of the candlestick.

Feckin' zombies. Feck.

He looked at the people sleeping in the pews. His duty was to protect his flock from the forces of evil. His grip tightened on the candlestick, and he placed himself squarely in the centre of the nave, with his good eye fixed firmly on the door.

He was ready.

Edit: Mass has started.
Edit²: Mass is ended.

Sunday Morning: The hangover at the TARDIS

[prof-cregg.livejournal.com]

"Claudia Jean...it's time for Mass...wake up..."

*Her father's voice cuts through a dense fog in her brain. Time to wake up. Yes. She opens her eyes and doesn't know where she is. She looks around...bed, floor, dresser. It's been a long time since she woke up on a Sunday so disoriented. She tried to remember back to the night before.

Zombies. Oh, yeah...Beka and Jack and Cally had come over to celebrate. Beka had given her...what was that she called it? Whatever it was, it did the trick. She had been Drunk with a capital D.

She turned her head and a fantastic pain began in her neck and radiated through her head. A groan escaped her throat as she opened her eyes. She realized then that she was laying the wrong way on the bed. She must have stumbled in and just flopped down on her stomach...she really didn't remember.

Her head would just not stop throbbing. If she laid reeeeeaaaaaallllly still, maybe it would stop. Please God, make it stop...

And she knew God wouldn't do anything...she was missing Mass.*

Penance (she whispered)

Cinema Cohen, Sunday, Sept. 25

[theatermark.livejournal.com]

The cinema's projection room has a heavy steel door, and Mark spent Friday and Saturday night cowering behind it. A few zombies found their way in and raided the concession stand (apparently, zombies like Kit Kats, but M&Ms confuse them), but otherwise the theater remained pretty safe.

Once Mark is done taking stock of the mess, he updates the theater marquee.


"EXORCISM OF EMILY ROSE" (R)
1 P.M. * 4 P.M. ONLY
THEATER IS ZOMBIE-FREE

Sunday

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale begins doing what he can to assist with clean-up in the aftermath of last night's attack. As he slowly walks the streets around his shop and the park, decaying bodies burst into flame and then burn quickly away, until all that remains are small piles of ash.

The Next Day

[callingtheshots.livejournal.com]

After a night of sitting vigil and watching the mayhem outside his windows, Tony wakes in a foul mood. By the time he gets himself downstairs his employees have restored the bar to its normal state of shabbiness. Tony could almost believe that what he saw (swirling vortex of storm clouds, creeping mist of doom, shambling undead attacking townsfolk, cats and dogs living together...) was a bad dream brought on by cheap ass bourbon.

He walks outside to see if he got a newspaper.

No.

If he were the paperboy, he would have said to fuck with it, too.

He goes in search of a damn newspaper.

Spike's Pub, Late Afternoon Sunday

[geoff-chaucer.livejournal.com]

Geoff walks into the pub, scowling. He stops briefly to speak to the bartendeder, then takes sits down at a table in the darkest corner he can find. He then proceeds to get very very drunk.

Sunday after Mass

[prof-cregg.livejournal.com]

*CJ comes out of the church and sees Tony.*

Tony, thank you for waiting.

*Smiles warmly. Her tears are gone and she feels wonderful*

Outside the Kwik Stop, Sunday afternoon

[silent-robert.livejournal.com]

Silent Bob wanders out from the alley behind the Kwik Stop. He looks dirty, like he slept in a garbage can, which isn't really that far from the truth. On the way to the school, Bob tripped and hit his head, knocking him out in the alley. No one seemed to notice--after all, he wasn't that loud beforehand.

He rubs the back of his head, feeling the knot, then shrugs. He's had worse. Bob looks up and down the street, then leans against the wall of the store. He still doesn't know where Jay went, but knowing the loudmouth, he was probably holed up somewhere, scared shitless. Bob lit his cigarette and waited for...something.

Pub: Town

[maias-notebook.livejournal.com]

Maia is sitting in the corner of the pub, eating her lunch because she just couldn't take any more chicken. She's looking around slowly, still drawing a blank from the last two days. She remembered zombies, she shot one, its head had exploded all over the place. Someone took her from the bookstore, she assumed it was a_phale.

Bitting into her fish and chips plate Maia closed her eyes. I need an aspirin Maia isn't drinking anything even close to alcohol today, straight water *sighs* just water and thoughts.

Pull the trigger nice and slow, keep your heads steady Maia could hear her Diana's voice as though she had been standing next to her. Maia smiled at the memory of that day when her mother took her to shoot... what would my other mother think.. my real mother? Maia stared down at her fish and chips. A small lump got caught in her throat and she swallowed it down. That had been the first time in a long time Maia had thought of that woman, who died never knowing what had happened to her. Beliving her kidnapped certainly, dead no doubt. Maia blinked back tears I wasn't dead mommy, I wasn't. I'm sorry you never knew that. I'm sorry mommy

Special of the Day at The Dive

[pflag-mom-deb.livejournal.com]

The sign outside the (slightly battered) Dive says

Sunday Dinner:

Roasted chicken, dressing with gravy, sweet potatoes and corn

Walnut-cheddar loaf, dressing with vegetarian gravy, sweet potatoes and corn

Roasted chicken, sweet potatoes, broccoli and green beans

Desserts of the Day:

Decadant Marble Cheesecake
Peppermint-chocolate pie
Peach pie
Peanut butter-oatmeal cookies, with chocolate chips and M&Ms

Sunday Afternoon

[prof-cregg.livejournal.com]

After lunch at the Dive, Tony walks CJ home.

Coffee!

[the-ascended.livejournal.com]

*After Daniel's meeting with Janet, Daniel had finished up his lesson plan and called Beka. He was waiting outside The Perkolator for her to get there, with a strong urge to go inside and order the coffee before she got there. But, he tried to keep his patience and waited*

Perkolator: all day Sunday

[coffeesmith.livejournal.com]

The lights are out and the door is locked. The ever-present chalkboard is jammed at a weird angle into the window and has the following scrawled on it:

Closed until Monday for cleanup.

Zombies like muffins, it seems.

Chaucer's Place: Back Alley

[oatmanspatient.livejournal.com]

Marty walked down the back alley to where Chaucer told him to meet and knocked on the door. Marty had swung by his hidden stash of weapons in town before coming and was carrying his revolvers.

Marty knocked again on the door.

"Geoff? It's Marty."