trans_9 | Under Seige

Pirogoeth nodded and looked at Daimon. "I will need thee to not stick too close to me. Thou messes with the forces that I use to make my magic," she said.

Well, he was a bunch of dark magic. She used fire, but she was over in the light spectrum.

And after she said that, she headed for a window to get outside, drawing her sword. The gun would remain holstered until magic became too slow.

Daimon nodded. "Do not worry, I shall keep my distance. In truth, I would do so anyway. I do not wish to harm anyone but these abominations."

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=Sam-sam-winchester-8219895-100-100.jpg)

"Yeah, sure you don't," Sam remarked under his breath at Leon. He then aimed his shotgun at a hole that the zombies had clawed through one of the doors and fired three rounds through it, killing or knocking back the zombies attempting to grab at people before throwing his weight against it to keep it from bursting open.

He didn't know how long Obi-Wan would be able to hold it closed and he had no intention of leaving it unbraced if the Jedi weakened. They had to buy time for the others to get out their and do their thing.

Leon smacked Sam in the back of the head, hard. Stupidity like that will just get them all killed and Leon had zero tolerance for that shit right now.

"Look, you dumbass, you haven't talked to Kirk, that means you don't know what the hell is going on with the rest of the building. I don't either. Go. See. Kirk. You ignorant, selfish stupid piece of shit. Make sure the rest of the building is secure, because if we get a breach from the side it won't matter if we hold the front!"

Leon smacked Sam upside the head again making sure it sunk through.

"Now Go!"

God damn that kid was fucking stupid.

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=Sam-sam-winchester-8226745-100-100.jpg)

"Dude! #&*@ OFF!!" Sam shouted at him. Leon seriously wanted to smack him around NOW?!? When there was a massive army of zombies breaking through the doors and they needed to buy time for Pirogoeth, Kaplan and Wilson to get outside and do their thing?

"You wanna compare dick sizes, we'll do it later," he added, pulling one of the .38s out of his holster with his free hand and firing through the hole at another zombie.

Worf grabbed the Winchester boy by the collar, aiming to drag him off to Kirk.

"You are part of the defense now. Which means you obey orders. If you do not wish to do that, I can always put you back in handcuffs, if you prefer."

They'd be coming in from the side. And it wouldn't take long until something akin to multiple explosions (http://community.livejournal.com/trans_9/157414.html?thread=11951078#t11951078)would be heard when Pirogoeth finally made it to the front.

((OOC: For those who want to follow.))

"Hold off, Mr Worf. I can take it from here." Nathan remarked as he flew downward after hearing some of the argument.

"I've seen how the line looks, you're going to need everybody you can get. I'll get word to Commander Kirk." He then shot back into the air again.

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=S4-sam-winchester-8184426-100-100.jpg)

"Fine, you don't want my help?" Sam said, shoving off the cracking door--pausing to point his gun at the hole and shoot the zombie trying to crawl through the hole.

"Then I'll find someone who does," he finished and started back into the basilica proper, heading for the medical area to see if they needed help with first aid.

Worf growled, sparing Nathan a sour look before heading off after Sam. He said he was sticking with him, and he meant it!

"What the heck was that ab--"

Cale didn't get a chance to finish. The hole next to him split even wider and an army of undead hands wrapped around him and jerked him through, pulling the teenager out of the basilica and onto the front steps, surrounded by flesh-eating zombies.

Red Snout screeches in defiance and pain as a ricocheting bullet, probably from the copious amounts of gunfire raining down from the roof, punches through the Basilica doorway and grazes across his side. He staggers back from the opening he was firing from, nursing the wound. He curses in his language again and turns, beginning to make his way back to the medical center. He was no good to anyone dead.

Billy was sweating and breathing a bit heavier but he finally got the wall up. It was completely visible, a bright sky blue, and seemed to shimmer as if sprinkled with glitter. He'd blush if he wasn't so out of breath. But at least the force field was up, and keeping the zombies back. Any that got close, would probably get a bit of a shock as Billy made sure his lightning bolts were streaking through it.

"Is that... good enough.. Mr. Kennedy?" He was panting and leaned against the nearest wall, his head tilting to look out the window at the force field.

Outside, the sounds of Cale's screams filled the square as he struggled to free himself from the grip of the undead horde. They hoisted him up, carrying him further away from the basilica and out into the open of the square like a throng of crazed fans would carry a rock-star at an out of control concert, like they couldn't wait to get a piece of him. Only, in Cale's case, it was literal.

He continued to call out for help as the zombies lowered him to the ground, pinning him down. And the smell of rancid breath assaulted his nostrils just seconds before the first zombie took a bite into his shoulder, sinking it's blood-stained teeth down into his flesh until it finally came away with a chunk of meat. Another started in on thigh, a third on his arm, while two more attacked his torso. By the time his left arm had been completely torn off, Cale had gone into shock and passed out, he's cries for help silenced.

"Good job, kid." Leon looked out at the forcefield and he would have smiled if the number of zombies was tremendous.

And... "...oh, shit." The bastards got one of theirs.

It was too late to do anything about it now, all he could do is try to make sure no one else died.

"Hell yeah, Billy!" Steve muttered with a little victorious arm pump. He leaned back against the wall to take a breather and reload his guns again. This wasn't too bad so far. Everybody working together seemed to be doing a pretty good job.

"Way to show those sons of bitches!"

DUncan was also caught in the horde. He had been swinging as much as he could, almost blindly with his sword. He'd heard the cries for help and had been attempting to help the person. The fingers had loosed his armor, and he really wasn't exactly sure *what* happened before he passed out. He'd be up and around again in a few minutes but only if the zombies left off long enough for his body to heal...

"Hey we need a medic!!" Jo yelled as she fired a few shots at the zombies who were trying to vlw their way through the door.

Smiling slightly, she quickly reloaded her gun and glanced over at Claire. "This would be more fun if people weren't actually getting hurt."

Sparhawk had thought that he was as ready as he could be. But the enemy that approached the barricades in that shambling fashion were not something that he had faced before. He had seen ghosts, and he had heard the stories of the Styrics being able to animate corpses, but he had not thought to face them, and in such numbers.

His rifle let off a shrill whistle with each shot fired, and knowing his own limitations, Sparhawk shot at the centre of the bodies, sending spike after spike into the hoard. It wasn't until the others started to identify the creatures, and the way to kill them, that Sparhawk changed his aim.

The rifle was discarded for the moment, and the crossbow cocked. Quarrel after quarrel was sent through the gap in the boards at which he stood. Most of them missed the head, but landed in other body parts. Rotting arms were torn from decayed shoulders, and somehow he managed to pin one of the legs of one of the walking dead to the wall it was passing. A few shots were the headshots that were needed.

As the hoard grew too close for any ranged weapons, Sparhawk lowered his visor, and drew his broadsword, moving to the area that looked like it most needed a man in armour to decapitate some dead things.

Claire returned Jo's smile with a grim one of her own, ducking back from the window she was shooting grenades out of to reload the six-shooter, switching to her handgun briefly to clear the window out of scrabbling claws.

"Personally I could do without the zombies," and the people getting injured, but right now she was trying to focus on not letting anything get any closer. Holstering her smaller gun again she brings the grenade launcher up again, sighting a group through her scope.

"I am so," SHUNK-BOOM "sick," SHUNK-BOOM "of #^&@ing," SHUNK-BOOM "zombies!"

"Never had to deal with zombies where I'm from," Jo yelled over the noise of everything. No, zombies are nothing more than things for movies and video games... ~~And this? This is waaaaaaaaaaay better than a video game.~~

She aims again, firing at a zombie and grinned as it's head exploded into a pile of goo.

[[ ooc: blargh, this is so late ]]

Obi-Wan let go of the door with a groan of relief and a grateful nod towards Billy. There wasn't time to rest, however, and so the Jedi was already moving towards the melee zone before he'd quite drawn himself back into some semblance of order.

He'd had never seen such a thing, the shambling, snarling, unsentient army that stood before them and soon was well within range. Putrid bodies pressed into an ululating, groaning pack, prompting Obi-Wan to ignite his weapon in a dangerous cht-zzh of power. He didn't bother to verbally warn Leon or anyone else what he was about to do: it was obvious. The forerunners of the battlefield were slavering, ragged things, dripping with ichor and gobbets of relatively fresh meat, and the Jedi found his way clear to charge in where he'd be most useful.

He took his first neatly at the neck, bisecting it from it's face without looking at it, already focused on the next target. Legs, then head, another gone, Obi-Wan fell into the rhythm of it, weaving blue death around himself in the arcing line of lightsaber's humming fire. Soresu was well suited to this mode of combat, it's 'impenetrable defense' lopping off as many hands as heads to stave off the grasping horde.

Before he knew it, he had worked a little too far into the fray, and was surrounded. But he wasn't afraid. Longer battles had been fought, and he had the stamina, and trust in the Force. Obi-Wan Kenobi fought on.

Under Seige

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