A Z O M B I E S U R V I V A L RP
A Z O M B I E S U R V I V A L RP
A Z O M B I E S U R V I V A L RP
[IC] Shelter: A Zombie Survival Story
- Modern
- Horror
- Casual
- Advanced
- Slice of Life
- Small Group
- School
- GM mickilennial
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mickilennial is trying to survive
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16 days ago
Hera’s back had been against the door for… actually she didn’t know how long exactly.
If she would’ve looked at her phone she would’ve known it had been a few hours. Two to be precise.
The screams in the hallways outside had rattled what generally was a pretty unshakeable perfect student. The worst part was she hadn’t heard any screaming for some time now but she was too afraid to unlock the door and take a look in the hallways that eventually she and the other students who found themselves in the room would have to venture to find food and supplies.
Why hadn’t the CDC solved this crisis by now?
There’s a pause in her brain, as if she asked herself a question so stupid it needed some time to process it. Fair enough. She may have still been a teenager but even she knew that the CDC wasn’t prepared for a zombie apocalypse. Who could? And it was all probably worse outside. They had been within the halls of their comfy, private school for two weeks. They were effectively contained and the rot had still gotten inside the school after fourteen days of nothing happening inside the school. If it was that bad in a contained environment, how bad was it in an uncontained, open one?
She shuddered at the thought.
Can’t think like that. Won’t think like that.
If she allowed her to think like that her thoughts would move to her mom and how she was dead or worse. The likelihood of someone working in the medical industry at a time like this. It was logical. It was heart-wrenching. It was something to avoid thinking about.
In the room with her were five other students. No teachers. A helpful adult who didn’t throw you in front of zombie freshmen was probably ideal in a situation like this, but they didn’t have that. Just a bunch of seniors and juniors. She recognized some. Quinn. Shinny. Aaron. The two others, well, she didn’t not recognize them but she couldn’t exactly put names to faces. Of the three she knew only one of them she could ever imagine as a friend, though they weren’t exactly besties. Similar circles and lanes. With Quinn, well, there was cheerleading. Aaron was a superstar. Probably was going to make the NBA with his trajectory. She supposed that wasn’t exactly in the cards anymore.
To be fair, that went for everyone in the world. Dreams were done and now they were probably stuck in a world two sneezes away from an episode of The Last of Us.
“It’s quiet.” She finally managed, even if it was a captain obvious sort of observation. “Not sure if that’s worse or better.”
She took a heavy breath, as her hands gripped the blazer of her school uniform. Her eyes looking over to the whiteboard for a few seconds.
‘Mr. Potter’ it read. She frowned, wondering where he could be. He was one of her favorite teachers. She hoped he wasn’t dead. She hoped he wasn’t undead.
If she would’ve looked at her phone she would’ve known it had been a few hours. Two to be precise.
The screams in the hallways outside had rattled what generally was a pretty unshakeable perfect student. The worst part was she hadn’t heard any screaming for some time now but she was too afraid to unlock the door and take a look in the hallways that eventually she and the other students who found themselves in the room would have to venture to find food and supplies.
Why hadn’t the CDC solved this crisis by now?
There’s a pause in her brain, as if she asked herself a question so stupid it needed some time to process it. Fair enough. She may have still been a teenager but even she knew that the CDC wasn’t prepared for a zombie apocalypse. Who could? And it was all probably worse outside. They had been within the halls of their comfy, private school for two weeks. They were effectively contained and the rot had still gotten inside the school after fourteen days of nothing happening inside the school. If it was that bad in a contained environment, how bad was it in an uncontained, open one?
She shuddered at the thought.
Can’t think like that. Won’t think like that.
If she allowed her to think like that her thoughts would move to her mom and how she was dead or worse. The likelihood of someone working in the medical industry at a time like this. It was logical. It was heart-wrenching. It was something to avoid thinking about.
In the room with her were five other students. No teachers. A helpful adult who didn’t throw you in front of zombie freshmen was probably ideal in a situation like this, but they didn’t have that. Just a bunch of seniors and juniors. She recognized some. Quinn. Shinny. Aaron. The two others, well, she didn’t not recognize them but she couldn’t exactly put names to faces. Of the three she knew only one of them she could ever imagine as a friend, though they weren’t exactly besties. Similar circles and lanes. With Quinn, well, there was cheerleading. Aaron was a superstar. Probably was going to make the NBA with his trajectory. She supposed that wasn’t exactly in the cards anymore.
To be fair, that went for everyone in the world. Dreams were done and now they were probably stuck in a world two sneezes away from an episode of The Last of Us.
“It’s quiet.” She finally managed, even if it was a captain obvious sort of observation. “Not sure if that’s worse or better.”
She took a heavy breath, as her hands gripped the blazer of her school uniform. Her eyes looking over to the whiteboard for a few seconds.
‘Mr. Potter’ it read. She frowned, wondering where he could be. He was one of her favorite teachers. She hoped he wasn’t dead. She hoped he wasn’t undead.
JESSICA HAD NEVER SEEN SUCH VIOLENCE BEFORE.
The auditorium carnage was still fresh in her mind. Though it had been two hours since, the incident nonetheless had been an unshakeable thought, and the events in the auditorium replayed on continuous loop.
Classmates pleading for help as their peers ripped them apart. Friends thrown to the ground by students focused on saving their own skin. The gory massacre horrified Jess, whose heart refused to still and nearly pounded out of her chest. There were people she disliked or didn't particularly care for, but even the dipshits of Stockbridge didn't deserve to be devoured alive by bloodthirsty, cannibalistic monsters. No one deserved a fate like that.
She had been wise to back away from the crowd when the first infected show signs of turning. It seemed sensible at the time, to not run towards the direction of a person who had clearly gone insane and was now actively trying to cannibalize others. But as Jess had backed herself tightly against a wall, eyes wide at the chaos taking place before her, there had been only one, singular thought rattling around in her head.
What the fuck?
By the grace of God, or in actuality by pure, dumb luck, Jess had managed to escape in one piece, having fled to a classroom; Mr. Potter's, by the looks of it. There had been a couple of her peers alongside her—mostly kids that stood on the top end of the the Stockbridge totem pole. Nonetheless, Jess hadn't particularly cared who at the moment, perhaps more so than usual as she sat exhausted on the cold, classroom floor. She was just glad that they weren't currently surrounded by zombified freaks eager to eat everyone in the room whole. Just being alive had been good enough for Jess for the time being.
Pulling out her phone from her coat pocket, Jess' thoughts shifted to her parents. She contemplated sending out a SOS message; perhaps her father could rescue them. After all, he had been trained to respond to and handle dangerous emergencies, although the walking undead were probably well above his paygrade. Still, at the very least he might've known who to get help from or what to do, both of which their makeshift, merry band of survivors were in dire need of.
As Jess tapped the messenger app, however, her hopes of any potential rescue began to shatter before her own eyes. It had been some time since either parent responded in the family's group chat, and the only recent messages had still been Jess' unanswered wall of text that she had generated over the last few days of quarantine lockdown. Would they even see this message? Would she and her classmates still be alive by the time they did?
Jess didn't know. She didn't even know how bad, if at all, it was outside the school. But, fuck, she didn't know exactly what to do right now either. If anything at least sounded worth a shot, it had to be this.
Blankly staring at the messenger screen, Jess paused before quickly typing one more message onto her phone.
Sliding her phone back into her pocket, Jess wondered if her parents would even believe her. To the average person, zombies simply didn't exist. Anyone with a rational train of thought would have easily taken her with a grain of salt as if she was instead talking about a movie or some survival horror game. Jess would've been among them, but that had been before she saw her teachers and classmates being violently ripped to shreds by those very same fictional creatures. Hopefully, if her parents did receive her message, they'd at least take concern to what sounded more like a joke text, if anything.
Yet even with that miniscule shred of hope, Jess still had her doubts. Very strong doubts. Her parents hadn't responded then, so who knew if they were going to respond now that they were actively in need of help during an emergency.
"I'd imagine it means that those who got out have managed to hide," Jess responded, finally looking up at the others now that someone had broken the silence. "Or that everyone else got ripped apart."
That probably hadn't been best choice of words to use, but Jess was beyond caring and desired to speak realistically.
"And unless we intend to join them, we're going to need a way out. Any ideas?"
The auditorium carnage was still fresh in her mind. Though it had been two hours since, the incident nonetheless had been an unshakeable thought, and the events in the auditorium replayed on continuous loop.
Classmates pleading for help as their peers ripped them apart. Friends thrown to the ground by students focused on saving their own skin. The gory massacre horrified Jess, whose heart refused to still and nearly pounded out of her chest. There were people she disliked or didn't particularly care for, but even the dipshits of Stockbridge didn't deserve to be devoured alive by bloodthirsty, cannibalistic monsters. No one deserved a fate like that.
She had been wise to back away from the crowd when the first infected show signs of turning. It seemed sensible at the time, to not run towards the direction of a person who had clearly gone insane and was now actively trying to cannibalize others. But as Jess had backed herself tightly against a wall, eyes wide at the chaos taking place before her, there had been only one, singular thought rattling around in her head.
What the fuck?
By the grace of God, or in actuality by pure, dumb luck, Jess had managed to escape in one piece, having fled to a classroom; Mr. Potter's, by the looks of it. There had been a couple of her peers alongside her—mostly kids that stood on the top end of the the Stockbridge totem pole. Nonetheless, Jess hadn't particularly cared who at the moment, perhaps more so than usual as she sat exhausted on the cold, classroom floor. She was just glad that they weren't currently surrounded by zombified freaks eager to eat everyone in the room whole. Just being alive had been good enough for Jess for the time being.
Pulling out her phone from her coat pocket, Jess' thoughts shifted to her parents. She contemplated sending out a SOS message; perhaps her father could rescue them. After all, he had been trained to respond to and handle dangerous emergencies, although the walking undead were probably well above his paygrade. Still, at the very least he might've known who to get help from or what to do, both of which their makeshift, merry band of survivors were in dire need of.
As Jess tapped the messenger app, however, her hopes of any potential rescue began to shatter before her own eyes. It had been some time since either parent responded in the family's group chat, and the only recent messages had still been Jess' unanswered wall of text that she had generated over the last few days of quarantine lockdown. Would they even see this message? Would she and her classmates still be alive by the time they did?
Jess didn't know. She didn't even know how bad, if at all, it was outside the school. But, fuck, she didn't know exactly what to do right now either. If anything at least sounded worth a shot, it had to be this.
Jess:
everyone has gone crazy. people are eating each other
Jess:
trapped in a classroom with some others. we're unable to leave. please send help
everyone has gone crazy. people are eating each other
Jess:
trapped in a classroom with some others. we're unable to leave. please send help
Blankly staring at the messenger screen, Jess paused before quickly typing one more message onto her phone.
Jess:
i miss you guys
i miss you guys
Sliding her phone back into her pocket, Jess wondered if her parents would even believe her. To the average person, zombies simply didn't exist. Anyone with a rational train of thought would have easily taken her with a grain of salt as if she was instead talking about a movie or some survival horror game. Jess would've been among them, but that had been before she saw her teachers and classmates being violently ripped to shreds by those very same fictional creatures. Hopefully, if her parents did receive her message, they'd at least take concern to what sounded more like a joke text, if anything.
Yet even with that miniscule shred of hope, Jess still had her doubts. Very strong doubts. Her parents hadn't responded then, so who knew if they were going to respond now that they were actively in need of help during an emergency.
"I'd imagine it means that those who got out have managed to hide," Jess responded, finally looking up at the others now that someone had broken the silence. "Or that everyone else got ripped apart."
That probably hadn't been best choice of words to use, but Jess was beyond caring and desired to speak realistically.
"And unless we intend to join them, we're going to need a way out. Any ideas?"
Interaction(s): Hera @mickilennial + Everyone Else
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Lemons Resident Of The Bargain Bin
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43 min ago
Shin-Ae Yun was usually a master of calming herself down. Or at least she considered herself that way. Nothing important, really; the occasional scuffle at school that she tried to break up, the occasional awkward moment with her mom at home, all these little things that she'd considered important, she was good at coming down from without anybody really knowing.
This was not one of those things.
She leaned against the wall underneath the clock in Mr. Potter's room with a few other students; Hera, Quinn, Ethan, Aaron...she paused a moment, trying to remember the other girl's name. She had in her head somewhere, she knew, but she'd talked to her so little in the past she couldn't quite place it. Something with a J. She'd figure it out later, when she managed to calm herself down. Eventually. She tried to get her heart to beat in time with the tick-tock of the second hand, but she couldn't manage deep breathing, couldn't slow her heart. She'd been in the front row of seats in the auditorium; consequently, when the entire flipped the switch and decided to go insane, she'd been mostly clear from the stampede that had claimed so many. All things considered, her version of the entire nightmarish experience wasn't all that bad compared to a lot of people.
That didn't make it much better to think about.
School had always been extremely important to Shin-Ae. For obvious reasons, of course, but also because she genuinely cared for the place and wanted to see both it and the people in it happy and prosperous. Being happy and prosperous did not involve watching someone's throat get ripped out by the treasurer's teeth. She was hyperventilated and didn't realize it until she started to get lightheaded; she managed to calm herself down after that, if only to the point where she was no longer maybe going to pass out. For that reason, of course, there were a few others.
What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.
For what must've been the tenth time that minute, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her flip phone, checking for texts, missed calls, anything. She'd tried to call both of her parents and the home phone, but nobody had picked up. She didn't text much because texting with a flip phone numpad was a pain, but she'd texted both of them too, as well as her vice president Simon Creighton. Eerie radio silence, all of it.
Hera spoke; the first voice that she'd heard in something other than a scream, or a gurgled bubbling noise, or a no, help me! in quite a few minutes, and twitchy as she was right now, she nearly jumped out of her skin. A moment later, J girl responded, and her words were surmounted with a simple question: "And unless we intend to join them, we're going to need a way out. Any ideas?" Shin-Ae finally managed to take one or two deep breaths, enough to think about the question.
She thought a moment before responding, trying to keep herself calm once again, to keep the tremble out of her voice. She absolutely did not succeed.
"I think...our best bet would be the doors near administration, I think? People don't tend to use them very often, so they might not be too crowded right now. Or maybe if we get to roof access we can climb down somehow."
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webboysurf Live, Laugh, Love
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1 hr ago
It was only as his classmates began shifting and moving as things quieted down outside that Aaron West recognized the agonizing aches of his calf muscles from squatting low behind a table this whole time: never quite sitting, but instead ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble. Aaron lowered his hands down to the ground to shift his weight back into a sitting position for a moment, rubbing out and massaging the pain in his legs as he rested for a moment. He looked down to his hands, faint specks of blood marking his tanned skin like drops of drying paint. He rubbed his hands together, smoothing out the crimson specks until they blended into his natural skin color. He had been near the front when everything had gone down. Something in his head wasn’t letting him dwell farther than that.
It was probably for the best.
Aaron looked up to his surroundings. He faintly recognized the others. He faintly recalled making a pass at Quinn… definitely Hera. He had never really had the follow through for anything serious, attachments were just going to weigh him down. Ethan would have been the closest thing Aaron could call a friend, if he believed in that sort of bullshit. He was competent, at least. Too optimistic and cheery for his taste. Then there was the black-haired girl, she seemed to always be around during the assemblies Aaron never paid attention to. As for the last one… Aaron was drawing a blank. She looked like all the other burnout guys he would knock the books out of the hands of when navigating the halls in-between classes.
“It’s quiet. Not sure if that’s worse or better.”
Aaron slowly raised his knees, placed his hands on them, and slowly rose up to a stand. The pain in his legs had started to subside. How insightful.
"I'd imagine it means that those who got out have managed to hide,
or that everyone else got ripped apart. And unless we intend to join them,
we're going to need a way out. Any ideas?"
or that everyone else got ripped apart. And unless we intend to join them,
we're going to need a way out. Any ideas?"
He slid a hand into his pocket, deftly pulling out a stick of gum and sliding it into his mouth. Ditto, bro.
"I think...our best bet would be the doors near administration, I think?
People don't tend to use them very often, so they might not be too crowded right now.
Or maybe if we get to roof access we can climb down somehow."
People don't tend to use them very often, so they might not be too crowded right now.
Or maybe if we get to roof access we can climb down somehow."
Aaron nodded as he chewed, his gaze lingering on Shin. There we go, a fucking nerd. He gave a nod to the student council president as she finished speaking, before looking towards Ethan, Quinn, and the rest. He shoved the gum into the corner of his mouth, behind his molars for a moment. ”She’s right. I think I missed my chance to get out of a normal exit, those are probably swarmed now. If I… err, I mean, uhh… we get to the roof, we can get a better idea of what we’re working with.”
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Ethan had never experienced anxiety greater than the customary dread of any unprepared student around finals. Sport plays-offs and close matches could cause some stress; that was always scondary to the exhilarating adrenaline that came with any game.
The end of the world starting in his high-school was a level he was ill prepared to handle. So he didn't. From the moment he'd found himself in the temporarily secure classroom, Ethan hadn't spoken a word, only looked between the odd group that had managed to find safety. The ones they hadn't locked out. It was all he could do to keep from letting his mind wander to what was happening on the other side of the door.
More than a few times, he opened his mouth to speak, but failed to find words for the situation. There weren't any encouraging sentiments to help in a time like this, and he was self-aware enough to know his opinion on strategizing wouldn't mean much. Not in a room shared with the valedictorian, student president, and two of the athlete captains. And... Ethan looked over to the blonde with short cropped hair. Not in his year, but vaguely familiar all the same. He caught himself staring too late, he offered her a shy smile out of reflex, then grimaced at the inappropriateness.
Hera began the discussion between the group of surviving students, and within a matter of seconds, Ethan could see a plan forming between them.
"The roof," He repeated aloud, over-eager to have something useful to contribute. "Sorry I just mean, it's kept locked, ever since-" As quickly as he started, Ethan's mouth snapped shut as he looked at Aaron with an embarrassed smile. "Well, you all probably remember the incident at the end of basketball season last year..." He let himself trail off there. Typically, the memory of hauling a barrel of lube up to the school roof to dump on an opposing team's bus during the semi-finals would be one he'd be happy to retell to any who'd listen.
"Point is we'll need keys. Unless any of you know how to climb, or pick a lock."
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16 days ago
“I think you’ll need a little more than a lockpick.”
Hera sighed.
Stockbridge Academy was the most demanding private school she could have imagined. Tons of investors and donations had justified reworking the entire security system over the summer. After incidents upon incidents and the worries of a potential school shooter, everyone who had money had decided what Stockbridge needed was security gates, lockdown keycards, and all sorts of things. She had almost forgotten about it. The Detroit Free Press heavily criticized the whole plan, she remembered, too. Something about turning Stockbridge into more of a prison than a institution of learning. Seems for once, that was right.
The hispanic-american looked over to her classmates, “School is probably in tiered lockdown. Remember the new magnetic locks that Mr. Nielsen was so thrilled about? We aren’t getting out without a keycard. I think… if we are smart… we are going to need access to administration or maintenance.”
Hera sighed.
Stockbridge Academy was the most demanding private school she could have imagined. Tons of investors and donations had justified reworking the entire security system over the summer. After incidents upon incidents and the worries of a potential school shooter, everyone who had money had decided what Stockbridge needed was security gates, lockdown keycards, and all sorts of things. She had almost forgotten about it. The Detroit Free Press heavily criticized the whole plan, she remembered, too. Something about turning Stockbridge into more of a prison than a institution of learning. Seems for once, that was right.
The hispanic-american looked over to her classmates, “School is probably in tiered lockdown. Remember the new magnetic locks that Mr. Nielsen was so thrilled about? We aren’t getting out without a keycard. I think… if we are smart… we are going to need access to administration or maintenance.”
The roof. What a novel idea, Jess sarcastically thought. Not like they had windows to see out of. She wasn't particularly enthused at the thought of rappelling down the school while being chased by hungry cannibals, either. At least on the bright side it would be the fall that killed her if she slipped up in the process.
"The administration offices are probably surrounded by now." Jess replied, standing up from the ground. "It'd be the first place I would think to go to get out, at least. Some of our classmates likely had the same idea."
Looking around the room, Jess wandered over to Mr. Potter's desk, and began to dig through the drawers for anything useful that might help them in not being devoured by their former peers. Unfortunately, the drawers were chock-full of stuff, so it would take a minute for her to search through.
Pencils. Erasers. Tape. Oh, hey, this week's quiz answers. Too bad they wouldn't serve a useful purpose anymore, unless you could dispatch a zombie with a papercut.
"My vote is maintenance. It's secluded; out of the way." Jessica announced, placing various items aside so she could dig further through the desk. "Also, any of you have scissors, or.. I don't know, an umbrella laying around over there? Not really interested in becoming zombie chow if we're heading out."
She hadn't known how her classmates would react to the thought of having to defend themselves from the undead, but it was a question that needed to be asked regardless.
"The administration offices are probably surrounded by now." Jess replied, standing up from the ground. "It'd be the first place I would think to go to get out, at least. Some of our classmates likely had the same idea."
Looking around the room, Jess wandered over to Mr. Potter's desk, and began to dig through the drawers for anything useful that might help them in not being devoured by their former peers. Unfortunately, the drawers were chock-full of stuff, so it would take a minute for her to search through.
Pencils. Erasers. Tape. Oh, hey, this week's quiz answers. Too bad they wouldn't serve a useful purpose anymore, unless you could dispatch a zombie with a papercut.
"My vote is maintenance. It's secluded; out of the way." Jessica announced, placing various items aside so she could dig further through the desk. "Also, any of you have scissors, or.. I don't know, an umbrella laying around over there? Not really interested in becoming zombie chow if we're heading out."
She hadn't known how her classmates would react to the thought of having to defend themselves from the undead, but it was a question that needed to be asked regardless.
Interaction(s): Hera @mickilennial + Everyone Else
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Lemons Resident Of The Bargain Bin
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43 min ago
Scissors. Umbrella.
...
"...I have a violin."
Having finally managed to get her breathing under control to some extent, Shin-ae brought herself back into the conversation. She hefted the case that she'd thankfully left in Mr. Potter's room before the assembly, as though to show "yeah, I've got a weapon," even if it was a particularly lame weapon. The thought of smashing her precious expensive violin on a classmate's head made Shin-ae feel kind of sick and clammy, but if was between that and getting her body torn apart by teeth, well. No points for guessing that one.
After a moment, she addressed J girl's other point: "That's probably the best idea. Maintenance, I mean." She'd forgotten about the new magnet locks; that'd make life so much harder, and people would probably shoot for admin if they wanted out for sure.
"And besides," she added after a moment, "If we really do want to find a weapon, then maintenance is probably our best bet for that too." Wrenches, crowbars; a lot of common tools would probably be pretty useful in a situation like this. Zombie flicks had never exactly been Shin-ae's preferred form of media, but she hadn't exactly avoided them either, and they were always ready to show how useful crowbars were.
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16 days ago
“We need to find food, too. Clean water. Unless you want to go keycard hunting on an empty stomach.”
The remark was made rather matter-of-factly, like Hera didn’t care at all about what they were all going through. Some of her body language betrayed that idea–the way she was clutching her blazer, the slight twitch of her fingers, and how she kept looking around the classroom.
The classroom was well-stocked… for literature. Plenty of books reciting old stories they had been tasked with studying before the end of the year. Mr. Potter had opted for an obscure novel by Mary Shelley, The Last Man, about the struggles of a man named Lionel Verney as he came to terms that the bubonic plague had left very few alive in its wake. The very first dystopian novel. Mr. Potter may have had a sense of humor after all. Not that a bunch of paper was going to be much use to them. School still had power. Heating and Water. At least that was a silver lining. As she thought about utilities and defense, a thought came to her mind.
The chair legs could be useful.
She looked to the chairs that sat in the classroom, moving one over to its side. Virco 9000. If they had a screwdriver they could remove the metal legs from the hard plastic. Right. She looked over to her classmate who was shuffling through Mr. Potter’s desk. There was no chance in hell that there was a screwdriver in there. 99.9% chance there was nothing useful in general. Well, she hoped the girl could find something. Anything, really. It would be better than nothing, that much was for sure.
What the girl would find, unfortunately, was little more than two energy bars (chocolate, though), a bunch of papers (including divorce papers yet to be signed), and one pack of mechanical pencils with two remaining.
The remark was made rather matter-of-factly, like Hera didn’t care at all about what they were all going through. Some of her body language betrayed that idea–the way she was clutching her blazer, the slight twitch of her fingers, and how she kept looking around the classroom.
The classroom was well-stocked… for literature. Plenty of books reciting old stories they had been tasked with studying before the end of the year. Mr. Potter had opted for an obscure novel by Mary Shelley, The Last Man, about the struggles of a man named Lionel Verney as he came to terms that the bubonic plague had left very few alive in its wake. The very first dystopian novel. Mr. Potter may have had a sense of humor after all. Not that a bunch of paper was going to be much use to them. School still had power. Heating and Water. At least that was a silver lining. As she thought about utilities and defense, a thought came to her mind.
The chair legs could be useful.
She looked to the chairs that sat in the classroom, moving one over to its side. Virco 9000. If they had a screwdriver they could remove the metal legs from the hard plastic. Right. She looked over to her classmate who was shuffling through Mr. Potter’s desk. There was no chance in hell that there was a screwdriver in there. 99.9% chance there was nothing useful in general. Well, she hoped the girl could find something. Anything, really. It would be better than nothing, that much was for sure.
What the girl would find, unfortunately, was little more than two energy bars (chocolate, though), a bunch of papers (including divorce papers yet to be signed), and one pack of mechanical pencils with two remaining.
A violin wasn't on the top of Jess' list of weapons to survive the zombie apocalypse with. But if it worked, it worked. Granted, the instrument probably wouldn't last long, Jess believed. It would probably shatter into a million wood splinters the second someone tried to smash it into a zombie's head. Yet if it kept any of them alive, well, Jess was thankful to have it on hand.
"Well, it's something." Jess replied to Shin-ae. "And something is always better than nothing."
Admittedly, Jess was nervous at the thought of having to defend herself against her now-undead peers. They had all watched their classmates and teachers be violently ripped apart moments ago. This wasn't the movies, this was an actual matter of life and death that they were in. One slip-up and it was game over; night night for Jess or anyone else. She knew that they were going to have to arm themselves and fight for their lives, but it didn't change the fact that Jess was still scared shitless at the idea.
She didn't want to die, being ripped apart from limb to limb until there was nothing left. The thought horrified Jess, and she could only figure that the rest of their group had felt the same.
As she continued her search through the desk drawers, Jess had noticed a group of papers stapled together. Divorce papers, she could tell from a glance. Well, shit, Mr. Potter was getting divorced? Grimacing, Jess decided to hide the papers in the desk out of respect for their teacher. She hadn't known if he was even still alive or wandering the halls as a zombie, but Jess nonetheless had a gut feeling that this had been information she shouldn't share with the rest of them.
It was odd. Here they were in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, worried that they were going to be torn apart by said zombies, yet Jess still felt beholden to privacy. Thankfully, before Jess could let herself linger on the news she had accidentally discovered any longer, someone spoke up about food and water. Right, that was also something they were going to need.
"I did find these." Jess announced, placing the two chocolate energy bars she had found on top of Mr Potter's desk. "Unless anyone else finds anything, we have to make them last as long as we can."
"Well, it's something." Jess replied to Shin-ae. "And something is always better than nothing."
Admittedly, Jess was nervous at the thought of having to defend herself against her now-undead peers. They had all watched their classmates and teachers be violently ripped apart moments ago. This wasn't the movies, this was an actual matter of life and death that they were in. One slip-up and it was game over; night night for Jess or anyone else. She knew that they were going to have to arm themselves and fight for their lives, but it didn't change the fact that Jess was still scared shitless at the idea.
She didn't want to die, being ripped apart from limb to limb until there was nothing left. The thought horrified Jess, and she could only figure that the rest of their group had felt the same.
As she continued her search through the desk drawers, Jess had noticed a group of papers stapled together. Divorce papers, she could tell from a glance. Well, shit, Mr. Potter was getting divorced? Grimacing, Jess decided to hide the papers in the desk out of respect for their teacher. She hadn't known if he was even still alive or wandering the halls as a zombie, but Jess nonetheless had a gut feeling that this had been information she shouldn't share with the rest of them.
It was odd. Here they were in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, worried that they were going to be torn apart by said zombies, yet Jess still felt beholden to privacy. Thankfully, before Jess could let herself linger on the news she had accidentally discovered any longer, someone spoke up about food and water. Right, that was also something they were going to need.
"I did find these." Jess announced, placing the two chocolate energy bars she had found on top of Mr Potter's desk. "Unless anyone else finds anything, we have to make them last as long as we can."
Interaction(s): Shin-ae @Lemons + Everyone Else
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Ethan had a much easier time keeping his mouth shut after being so quickly corrected by the senior valedictorian. He'd never been much of a planner anyway. He joined the other in looking through the few possessions that had come into the classroom with him. Typically, he'd be a bit more embarrassed by the lack of school material in his bag, but for once being unprepared might actually serve him. A visored hockey helmet landed on the desk with a loud thunk, followed by a few pens, a wallet, and mouthgaurd all clattering to the desk as Ethan shook out the contents for the other to see as well.
"Sorry," He said quickly, anticipating a reprimand for the noise he was making. Before joining the others in their search of the classroom. It felt a larger than he remembered, with only the five of them inside and searching different corners of the room. Ethan opted to look in the back cabinets, only to find little more than the expected supplies of a home room teacher; papers, pens, textbooks, blank composition books, and various other stationary items. He walked back with two pairs of scissors. "Not sure if it's a good idea to get so close to actually be useful but..." He looked towards the short-haired blonde with a forced smile, "better than nothing."
"That is, if you're sure we should leave." His eyes drifted towards Hera, who seemed to have taken command of the group, much to his own relief. "We're safe for now, and help has to come eventually. Right?"
Lemons Resident Of The Bargain Bin
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As the helmet's contents clattered to the desk behind her, Shin-ae jumped, and the violin case that she held in her hand bumped into the cabinet she was searching with a loud thud. She directed a cold glare back at Ethan, but ultimately, she didn't see the point of yelling at him. He'd apologized anyway, so he wasn't likely to do it again.
Speaking of the cabinet, there wasn't anything of much use in it. Well, there was a small bottle of hot sauce, the really spicy stuff, nestled back against the wall. They could drink it if they needed to, but she would really prefer not to. She didn't know the brand. Still, no point in not taking it, it wasn't like it weighed much. She frowned to herself, looking up at the ceiling. Did she bring her water bottle today? She couldn't remember. If she had, it would be in her locker now.
Shaking her head--heading out to search her locker sounded hazardous right about now--she turned, shutting the cabinet again behind her and moving on to the next. Again, nothing of much use. Stacks of paper, notebooks, a box of pencils...she was about to close the door--last one on that side of the room--when she realized she hadn't searched the bottom shelf. Bending down, she peered in, ran her hand along the inside walls...
Ooh, that felt promising.
Withdrawing her hand, she found herself looking at a roll of duct tape. Used, clearly; there wasn't much left on there. But it never hurt to have. Tossing the bottle a few times up and down in her hand, she walked quietly over and put it down on the desk next to the chocolate bars with a soft clink, then dropped the roll of tape beside it, only half listening to what Ethan was saying. What a dumb question.
"Just about the only things worthwhile on that side of the room."
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