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Post by Tybalt on Jan 2, 2009 21:54:09 GMT -5
"Stop tossing that before you put someone's eye out," Tybalt snapped, without looking at him.
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Post by Mercutio on Jan 2, 2009 22:04:02 GMT -5
Mercutio continued to toss the knife, humming to himself, as if he hadn't heard Tybalt at all. But, a moment later, after a beat too long to be a comfortable pause- "Oh, sir, it's perfectly safe! This blade's as dull as..." Another pause as Mercutio caught it by the handle, delicately, and tapped it on his wrist. "Dull as a drunkard's wits, is my little pig-pricker. Almost as dull as my eldest brother, almost as dull as you- I wonder whether he's noticed it's gone yet."
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 5, 2009 23:53:44 GMT -5
"And so you add petty thievery to your ever growing list of talents; what a surprise," he said in a voice that was, as always, clipped and impatient and near a growl.
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Post by Mercutio on Jan 5, 2009 23:57:38 GMT -5
Mercutio rolled his eyes, testing the point of the knife against his fingers. "My dear Prince of Cats, that talent has been there all along."
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 6, 2009 0:02:54 GMT -5
"And when did you take that off your poor brother? Before you left home?" he asked, stepping to the side to give a drunk shuffling mindlessly down the street a very wide berth. He smelled awful and was making a terrible groaning.
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Post by Mercutio on Jan 6, 2009 0:18:18 GMT -5
Mercutio regarded Tybalt levelly, much the same way he turned his gaze on the drunk then flicked it away again, dismissively. "He can afford a new one."
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 6, 2009 0:30:49 GMT -5
The drunk seemed to notice them and changed direction clumsily. He lunged at Tybalt, moaning eerily, just as he was about to snap something withering at Mercutio. Instead, he kicked the man in the chest.
"What the hell is the matter with you?"
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Post by Mercutio on Jan 6, 2009 0:54:27 GMT -5
Mercutio glided forward, pushing Tybalt away with a hand to the chest as he leaned over the man who'd fallen to the ground. "Let me have a go, I speak drunk- "
But the man- the strangely waxen, staggering man, with a rather fixed stare Mercutio noted- lunged up at him. Mercutio wheeled back, his expression turning as puzzled as Tybalt's but not quite as angry.
"Your breath smells very badly," he informed the moaning zombie. "And not at all of drink. Rather like the inside of a cow. You- watch it!" The zombie had lunged again, and Mercutio gave him a short jabbing shove to the shoulder out of surprise and irritation. A little too hard, as the man's arm fell off.
Mercutio stared.
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 6, 2009 1:10:47 GMT -5
Tybalt gaped at the scene open mouthed. That, he knew, was no drunk. It seemed to hardly be human at all, any more. And the loss of its arm didn't seem to slow it down- it was still lurching unsteadily towards them. Tybalt grabbed Mercutio's arm roughly.
"We're leaving."
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Cendrillon
- Ingenious Pilot -
![*](//storage.proboards.com/forum/images/stars/star.png) ![*](//storage.proboards.com/forum/images/stars/star.png)
I am a pretty piece of flesh
Posts: 109
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Post by Cendrillon on Jan 6, 2009 9:38:23 GMT -5
((To speak up: that is the only zombie-anything I have ever enjoyed reading. But now I have to go and cram my mind full of non-zombie things to get over the horror and revulsion of imagining its arm falling off.))
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Post by Mercutio on Jan 6, 2009 16:26:40 GMT -5
"That is disgusting," Mercutio said, without taking his eyes off of the zombie. His nose wrinkled, but despite that he didn't look that disgusted, ignoring Tybalt's hold on his arm to lean forward to stare at it
Then he turned his head, absently sidestepping the zombie as it lurched for them again. His gaze hooked on something over Tybalt's shoulder. He refocused in on Tybalt, smiled sweetly, then slid into what the other man would very definately consider his personal space.
"Tybalt," Mercutio said, as he poked a finger into the Capulet's chest, "Don't be hasty." He paused to kick the zombie in the stomach. "After all, there are all those other decaying moaning drunks behind you to contend with as well." There was a little schlick as Tybalt's sword was slid from its sheath and Mercutio whirled away with it, grinning like a fool.
(( Yay for breaking down zombie prejudices! ))
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 6, 2009 16:55:10 GMT -5
Whirling after Mercutio to retrive his sword, he cursed under his breath when he saw that they were indeed being pursued by more creatures like the armless one that was currently struggling to right itself. And the damn fool had stolen his weapon! Trust Mercutio to go towards the undead hoards rather than away from them.
He followed to make sure that Mercutio didn't ruin his sword or get himself killed and pulled a small dagger from his belt. He would regret this later, he knew.
"Mercutio!"
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Post by Mercutio on Jan 6, 2009 17:21:59 GMT -5
Mercutio danced down the street, laughing. Tybalt didn't sound particularly angry at him, which was disappointing enough to make him almost give the sword back. There weren't many of the stumbling shambling zombies, only a small clutch of three or four or so, although one of them had gotten ahold of a dog and- ewwww. Mercutio skewered that one first.
He wasn't as good as Tybalt- no one was as good as Tybalt- but he'd been trained and he at least knew it was more than waving it about and sticking the pointy end in other people. Ah, but if only he had a baseball bat.
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 6, 2009 18:35:47 GMT -5
"Mercutio," he repeated, snarling. "The object should be to get away from the creatures, not go toward them!"
The stab wound didn't do much to slow it down- it kept shambling towards Mercutio as if it were completely unharmed.
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Post by Mercutio on Jan 7, 2009 8:41:52 GMT -5
Mercutio frowned, slashing at the creature again. "That's no fun," he said absently, concentrating too hard on the zombie to remember to raise his voice so Tybalt could hear him. He backed up as the creature lurched forward, eyes narrowed, head tilted thoughtfully to the side. Then he turned and strode back over to Tybalt, dodging another moaning zombie. He pressed the sword back into Tybalt's hand- "You really need a broadsword or something, this thing's useless" - and went to grab a chair from a nearby cafe, vaulting the stupid ornamental little fence. No one would stop him- anyone who'd been on the streets had run. Sensible cowards.
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