Event | Turtle Dive | January 20 - 23 | Underwater zombies crave your briiiiiines

[ironwood]

Characters: Any and all PCs
Date: January 20th - 23rd
Location: All Sectors
Situation: Tu Vishan continues swimming along the ocean floor after his monumental dive, but it turns out there are a whole bunch of undead that want in on the party!
Warnings/Rating: Underwater situations, violence, potential gore; to be updated as noted.

>See the comments of this post for various situations and areas available for tagging.
>Each header will be set for a date and/or area.
>Feel free to start your own header for specific situations.
>The Palace subplot will be run in a separate log.
>Refer to the two OOC posts for further details. 01 | 02

Comments

[depicted]

[Dorian's lighter is woefully inadequate in this, and he no longer has any accelerant to toss on it.]

I say we run for the bonfires so we can put it out of its misery.

[He probably isn't in real danger. But he has already decided he dislikes getting bitten, and he is now with someone who can die. So you know what? Feet to the pavement, Dorian's just making a run for it.]

[emasculates]

[Well excuse her for wanting to stand her ground. Instead of following after him, she takes this opportunity to attack the zombie from behind. She breaks its neck quite handily (and that may in fact be a pun) and knocks its feet out from under it.

And then she simply grabs its bad leg and starts hauling it with a calm deliberation towards the fire that had so caught her companion's attention.

Aisha isn't really the running sort.

Once she's caught up with him there, however, she'll drag the creature onto the fire and watch it burn with a smug sort of satisfaction, her expression set and vindictively cruel.]

You are immortal, yet you run?

[depicted]

[Dorian just smiles and shakes his head. Aisha is terrifyingly brutal, and Dorian really doesn't care for violence, but there is something of the vindictiveness in her that amuses him.] Well, I'm glad you're having fun. But not all of us are exactly the combat sort. And I'm not really very interested in pain. [With a few exceptions.]

[Dorian starts searching through the material for some good sticks for torches.]

[emasculates]

Whether you are the 'sort' is irrelevant. When the circumstances arise, you fight or you die. It is not about preference. It is about survival.

[AND YOU BET SHE IS LECTURING YOU BECAUSE THAT ATTITUDE IS SO AGAINST HER MORALS OR SOMETHING GOSH.]

Pain does not endure. Push past it.

[But she does approve of that stick gathering, and after a moment she joins in the hunt.]

[depicted]

[He can't resist a smile even as he works, not bothered by the lecturing.]

Yeah, let's go back to the bit where I don't die, so not really an issue. I'd rather pick my fights when I can rely on more than combat skills I don't actually have.

[Dorian may be able to fight moderately well, but he isn't Captain America or Batman. He needs fire to even the fight.]

As for the transience of pain, well, I will agree with you on that. When pain is necessary.

[emasculates]

So learn. Experience is the only teacher anyone ever requires.

[LECTURE LECTURE LECTURE she fishes several sticks out, rips cloth from her shirt to wrap around them. There's even a vendor cart overturned nearby serving deep-fried goods, she goes in that general direction to see if the basket of oil is still intact.]

There is no 'when'. You are alive. Physical, mental, emotional. Each thing hurts. And from it we know we are alive. Pain is necessary to life.

[Her name means 'alive' in Arabic. She's always found that ironic.]

[depicted]

[He flashes her a smile.] Oh, are you offering to teach me?

[Dorian grieves his clothing, but he sacrifices his shirt to the necessity of self-defence, and follows suit in using the oil for his torches.]

But Lord, you sound like Oscar after his prison sentence. The virtue of pain, the limits of the the sunlit side of life's garden, the lessons sorrow teaches us. I don't begrudge others their theories of necessary suffering, but I'd rather pass. I can get by just fine on pleasure alone.

[This is a philosophy which Dorian is doing a remarkable job not putting into practice today, and yet he will continue to espouse it, even as he prepares another torch for a painful and voluntary endeavour.]

[emasculates]

I doubt you could handle my methods.

[She is whence the term 'cruel mistress' came.]

And I did not say it was a virtue. Only that it is necessary. Do not confuse the two. Only those who have known no suffering glory in it.

[He's the one with the lighter. She thrusts one of the torches at him, her expression quite neutral. Honestly, she's finding the conversation interesting. She always has enjoyed arguing.]

Pleasure is a cousin to pain. Often symptomatic of other things. Self-inflicted, it can be just as destructive. Borrowed from others, an addiction. A downfall.

[depicted]

[With his cigarette lighter, he sets fire to her torch and smiles.]

Oh, but addictions are such fun.

[When Dorian's own torch is in flames, his joy is brought into light. Now that he is properly armed, the world is transformed.] And one of mine happens to be adrenaline. To live each moment to vitality—to experience each sensation as vividly and brilliantly as possible—if that is a downfall, send me to Hell. Pain is useful where it heightens pleasure. The rest is mere survival, and that is something I don't much worry about these days.

[emasculates]

Addictions are the province of slaves. Nothing more.

[She used to run security for opium trails. She knows her shit okok.]

Has it crossed your mind that we are perhaps already in Hell? I was killed in a nuclear blast prior to my being here.

[She probably is less affected by that than she should be.]

[depicted]

[Hey opium is great]

Nasty way to go. [He is happy he just got firebombed] If we were in Hell, I think I would know. Certain individuals would ensure that I knew. If this is anything near to it, it is a kind of purgatory.

[emasculates]

[Only if you aren't Aisha.]

Oh?

[She moves away from the street, into one of the alleyways. She's got places to be, zombies to kill, etc etc.]

[depicted]

[He accompanies her mainly because he has nothing else to do.] Don't you have people who would be waiting for you in Hell? You strike me as the sort. [Just coming out there and saying it. Except he is more cheerful now, with a weapon in hand and the chance to wreak some destruction. Who says doing good things can't be fun?]

[emasculates]

[She laughs.

It's not a particularly cheerful sound.]

I do not believe in Hell, but if I did I believe the answer to that would be 'thousands'.

[It was a rhetorical question, earlier. She's not even remotely religious. Nor does she seem particularly repentant about, you know, murdering people.]