[That reaction just gets more laughter. He pulls away from Archer, cheerfully skipping off through the now knee-deep sea of blood in almost dancing steps. The adult corpses are up now too, but he ignores them in favor of making his lazy way towards the town center just a few houses away. Archer can cut them all, but they'll just keep moving.]
Come on, Archer! You'll have to kill them all or you'll die too!
[He doesn't want to, of course, but he doesn't want to die. Not here, at least, even though he can't say he'd be surprised if that happened anyways. Archer isn't a killer like Diarmuid, all he has is his own personal training, but it's enough, maybe, to fight back and struggle towards the center of town]
It goes faster if you let it feel good. But that's "bad", isn't it? It hurts your heart. Even a stubborn jerk like you will drown in it eventually!
[The center of town is no better. There aren't zombies there, but the blood is waist deep and filled with floating bits of broken glass in which seconds of memories play in loop. Some of them are memories of a happy childhood, but a lot of them are memories of torture or the original deaths of the people Archer just cut through.
The glass seems to want to gather around Diarmuid rather than attacking Archer, at least.]
[That's all her cares to muster by the time he reaches Diarmuid - he's annoyed, unhappy, and trying his best to empty his mind of everything but escape. He has the hunch that otherwise, he'd be sick to his stomach by now.
[He speaks softly all of a sudden, as the town fills with the scent of rot. The sky is dark red with bright red lighting flickering in ashy grey clouds, and the monster fish from the place before are sketched in the air. The sirens are deafening at this point, and there's a rumble like an earthquake.]
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streetwalkers2012-11-07 01:37 am
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Come on, Archer! You'll have to kill them all or you'll die too!
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[He doesn't want to, of course, but he doesn't want to die. Not here, at least, even though he can't say he'd be surprised if that happened anyways. Archer isn't a killer like Diarmuid, all he has is his own personal training, but it's enough, maybe, to fight back and struggle towards the center of town]
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[The center of town is no better. There aren't zombies there, but the blood is waist deep and filled with floating bits of broken glass in which seconds of memories play in loop. Some of them are memories of a happy childhood, but a lot of them are memories of torture or the original deaths of the people Archer just cut through.
The glass seems to want to gather around Diarmuid rather than attacking Archer, at least.]
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[That's all her cares to muster by the time he reaches Diarmuid - he's annoyed, unhappy, and trying his best to empty his mind of everything but escape. He has the hunch that otherwise, he'd be sick to his stomach by now.
To that end, he eyes the floating glass warily.]
no subject
[He speaks softly all of a sudden, as the town fills with the scent of rot. The sky is dark red with bright red lighting flickering in ashy grey clouds, and the monster fish from the place before are sketched in the air. The sirens are deafening at this point, and there's a rumble like an earthquake.]
It stinks and it hurts. This is really my head...
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[A sigh. A heavy, heavy sigh.
He has the feeling he'll be skittish around fish for a while after this]
What's it look like when Cu's around?
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But he's not here, so that won't happen.
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[Keeping an eye on the fish, he begins wading towards Diarmuid.]
Fine. You wanna keep moving, at least?
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