Strokes of Genius, Thursday

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

And wouldn't you know it, Katchoo hadn't heard the radio last night. Her timing was awesome like that.

So it was in to work after classes as usual, to mope somewhere other than in her room or on the roof or any of her usual dormbound places. Work, where there was a still kind of gross baseball bat left over from the harpy invasion, stowed beneath the counter, and now Katchoo listlessly drawing beside the register.

Woooooo.

The enthusiasm level in here was just awesome today.

[OOC: The only thing the OCD knew how to do was to keep on keepin' on like a bird that flew. Open, zombie visitors welcome, no biting please. :)]

Book haven: Thursday [4-2-09]

[livingasheth.livejournal.com]

Book Haven was a haven, indeed. Millie wasn't letting any of those nasty zombies into her bookstore!

She was here, the store was open and brightly lit, and there were hot drinks and pastries for any foolish enough to venture out or needing a place to hide out.

MHA Poolside, Thursday

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

So, there were apparently zombies on the island. Fucking wonderful. Just when he'd started to get the area around MHA cleaned up from the shit slinging birds, the walking undead decided they wanted out of their eternal resting places. His luck was so fucking bad sometimes.

Of course, just because there were zombies didn't mean Loki was going to bar himself up in his apartment with a can of spam and a crowbar. What the fuck kind of fun would that be? Instead, he came out to the pool and actually cleaned it up a little bit before taking a seat in one of the chairs and relaxing. The weather was warmer and there was the smell of rotting flesh on the air.

This really was a fucking paradise wasn't it? Whatever, unless the zombies were prepared to fork over some fucking dough, they weren't getting near his shit. He was already dead. Wasn't like he could get deader.

He hoped. Fuck, that would suck.

[No OCD but totally open for the alive, dead and undead (and I'm going to stick a link in the zombie post when it goes up whoo!)]

Across The Island, All Thursday

[zombiemcbitey.livejournal.com]

Yesterday they had come forth, hunted, feasted, and the zombie population of the island had steadily grown. Today there were even more zombies in the streets, each one as hungry as the one that spawned them, and their goal hadn't changed.

Meat. Food. Braaaaaaaaaaains.

[Yet again, this is today's "Looking for Zombies!" post! Ping in to the appropriate thread with your location on the island, and one of our lovely NPC minions will get to you as soon as possible. After the OOD! OCD is up! Omnomnom!]

The Arms Hotel Lobby, Thursday [4/2]

[itsjustlanguage.livejournal.com]

Oddly enough, Hoshi hadn't listened to radio last night because she'd been distracted. So she had no clue why Gunther was pacing back and forth with his rolling pin or why the sous chef was clutching a meat cleaver and peering out the windows.

Whatever. Hoshi just rolled her eyes, thinking Gunther had finally lost it, and went back to reading her book at the front desk.

Welcome to the Arms Hotel!
Today's Specials
Cold Soba Noodles and Spinach With Sesame-Soy Dressing

[Zombies welcome! ETA: They're restricted to the lobby, first floor and basement so hotel residents don't have to run into them if they don't want.]

The Abandoned Shack In The Woods, Thursday Afternoon

[zombiemcbitey.livejournal.com]

The throaty chanting of the voodoo priest had continued in a rising and falling thrum of guttural vocals and pulse-like drum. He'd found a place to perform his ceremonies in peace, and he'd fashioned a crude altar out of the bones of his willing minions. Draped delicately over it was draped a white cloth, stained red after years of ceremony and ages of feasting.

But the altar was sadly lacking, a slight which he would have to remedy. He knew exactly what it was that he needed, but to leave this spot would be to compromise the sanctity of his shrine. Of his domain.

And so he stood at the doorway of his abandoned shack, and his drum took a different direction entirely. He was summoning the fresh blood to him.

He'd give them a chance to prove their loyalty.

[That there was a congregation of zombies is FB, the ZVP himself is NFB, and this post is only for interaction with the undead, please! Yes, PC Zombies, it's an optional undead scavenger hunt! The idea of the game is that you ping in, the ZVP will assign to you one item, and then you can take your quest for that item around the island in posts through the game, wherever your rotting brain thinks you'd be most likely to find it. When you report back, feel free to request another item to find, or just bask in the praise from your mighty master. OCD is up!]

The Preserve, Thursday Midday

[tyler_gone]

It was a bright, peaceful spring day in the preserve. Birds were singing, trees were budding, sleepy flowers were popping their heads above the ground.

And a zombie on a mission shambled through the woods, soliloquizing in an incoherent but constant stream of grunts, groans, and cries for "braaaaains. DEER brains."

One of these things did not belong.

The deer, luckily, were both smarter and faster than zombie Tyler. They scampered through the underbrush unseen.

[OOC: Open preserve! Let me know if you need bitten.]

The Boards - Tuesday, 4/2 - REHEARSAL

[suit-of-sables.livejournal.com]

It was getting to be that time, that very close to an actual performance time, that had Geoffrey alternately bouncing and wanting to throttle someone.

...he was trying to keep it to bouncing, considering the fact that this place had proven excellent for avoiding his creditors and he didn't need to spend a night in jail in the midst of a production.

That said, today there was some extra work to do!

[ocd up!][zombie friendly]

Luke's Diner, Thursday

[lovemykilt]

Priestly probably shouldn't have even tried to come in to work today, what with the concussion and zombies and such. So why the hell was he at work? Who knew?

But he was prepared. He had a very large, heavy stick. He stood in the center of the diner and brandished it. "I am not unlike Roosevelt," he said. And that was when the dishwasher started trying to convince him that quote was by Taft. So Priestly threatened him with the stick.

He was totally digging this stick theory.

Today's Specials
Chickenless strip wrap with roasted red peppers and hummus
Edamame
Banana pudding

Luke's was open. Zombies would get whacked with the big stick.

Around town, Thursday evening

[iruinenglish.livejournal.com]

Some days Buffy loved this town. Not because of the zombies, but because she got let out of two classes to go fight them. (All right, so Professor Jameson thought she was interviewing them. Same diff.) So that's what she was doing, wandering around, looking for shambling creatures of the undead and trying to ununkill them.

She was walking around with a sword in hand, along with various other weaponry, since she didn't know what killed these zombies and she would rather be prepared than be a member of the legion of the walking dead.

Yes, a sword. You didn't want to see the arsenal she had stored away. If the apocalypse came- no matter what the reason- she was probably prepared for it.


[Totally open. Fandomite zombies, be warned that Buffy will totes try to kill you. Sorry. She won't, don't worry. NPC zombies welcome if they so choose, no bitey.]

Wellspring Arms & Meditation Center, Thursday

[spring-lost.livejournal.com]

The lights in the back of the store were most securely turned off - neither the meditation room nor the shooting range would allow for any visitors today. Instead, Cable had opened up the weapons cases and settled himself in behind the desk.

If there was any situation that deserved the distribution of weaponry, this was it. There were few places as completely and utterly safe as Wellspring - the security system would take out any zombie that'd go near the back of the store.

Which is why Jan was safely secured in the meditation room. Cable swung by every fifteen minutes on the clock, at the very, very least. The rest of his time was spent researching and doing his level best to keep tabs on activity on the streets. In his own way.

[ wellspring's open, but OCD-less. zombie-ok if you don't go near the back, where intruders will get kasplat-fried ]

Trooper Station, Thursday Morning

[headkickpoet.livejournal.com]

So after yesterday? Yeah, okay, Ray was going to have to admit this was his first Big Fandom Fuckup or... something. Shoulda known from the reports there was a big snake beneath the grass of silence - shoulda taken that from Fraser.

Still. At least zombies weren't going to hit on him or something. Just smelled bad. He went through the phone calls and reports at lightening speed that morning, because sitting around on the office when shit was going down did not look good.

Unfortunately, 'kick 'em in the head' did not look to be a, uh, feasible strategy while dealing with fucking zombies.

[ open! I shall be slow for the next while ]

Co*ven[indecipherable]t Garden Flowers, Thursday, 2 April

[loverlyviolets]

What do you get when you combine a cranky umbrella-wielding shopowner and a couple of particularly-dessicated zombies?

You get ( this: )

And a sign in the window reading:

Covent Garden Flowers

Eliza Doolittle, prop.
Fresh flowers from nosegays to bouquets!
Delivery available upon request.

Now hiring for Wednesday position. Dead creatures need not apply.

___

[OOC: Agh, late, eaten by work. Open! Dead creatures, however, as mentioned above, need not apply.]

Between the Church and the Graveyard, Thursday Evening

[shiroi_tiger]

It was just the sort of evening that usually began with a disclaimer about strong personal convictions regarding a belief in the occult before fading serenely into darkness and the sound of frogs croaking pleasantly in the background.

It was also just the sort of evening that, by some twist of fate, would see a scary man in a skirt young woman in a pink blouse and a purple poodle skirt walking around after dark because somebody's boyfriend had forgotten to top off the tank of his convertible with gas.

Not that she minded much, of course. If she could find him, then the night would be so much better, wouldn't it?

[This requires OCD. Please hold! OCD is up, now it is time for a bit of setup. SETUP US DONE OMG. Zombies, you are so, so encouraged to join in.]

Caritas [Thursday evening]

[canadianpopstar.livejournal.com]

There was no Robin behind the bar tonight -- only surly, grumpy Tino.

Now, it was questionable whether Tino would have been pissed at her for not showing had he known why.

But it was probably just as likely that he would have thought that being bitten by a zombie served her right, or something.