ɪʀᴏɴᴡᴏᴏᴅ ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ ᴇsʜᴀɪ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ironwood) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2013-01-19 06:07 pm
ironwood) wrote in tushanshu_logs2013-01-19 06:07 pm
Entry tags:
- post: npc,
- thread: tim drake,
- thread: zatanna zatara,
- † agent north dakota,
- † aisha al-fadhil,
- † albel nox,
- † annabeth chase,
- † ariadne,
- † arthur,
- † astrid farnsworth (alt),
- † brandon sharpe,
- † bruce wayne,
- † bucky barnes,
- † cassandra cain,
- † clark kent,
- † damian wayne,
- † dick grayson,
- † dorian gray,
- † elena fisher,
- † elizabeth sherman,
- † finnick odair,
- † inara serra,
- † jack frost,
- † jane shepard,
- † jason todd,
- † kara thrace,
- † kara zor-el,
- † katniss everdeen,
- † kon-el,
- † kyle rayner,
- † leonardo (2003),
- † lina inverse,
- † logan,
- † logan howlett,
- † martris drayke,
- † natasha romanoff,
- † nathan drake,
- † olivia dunham,
- † peeta mellark,
- † pepper potts (mcu),
- † raphael (2003),
- † raylan givens,
- † rikki barnes,
- † santo vaccarro,
- † sir mandorallen,
- † steve rogers,
- † terrance ward,
- † tommy shepherd,
- † victor borkowski
Event | Turtle Dive | January 20 - 23 | Underwater zombies crave your briiiiiines
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
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
no subject
- fast! -
- he barely has time to swing back around and intercept the zombie hurtling at him with both katana raised. The corpse slams brainlessly into the crossed blades, globs of black-red sludge spurting from the wounds and sliding down the blades like putrid clumps of jam. It lurches uselessly against Leo's katana, its head twisting and teeth snapping, gaping eye sockets pinning him with a sightless, hungry gaze.
Gritting his teeth, Leo grips the hilts and swings both katana upward. The blades slide through the flesh of its throat, cutting through rotted bone and sinew as though they were layers of tender, cooked meat, and the zombie's head tumbles onto the cold ground, jets of rancid blood arcing out from the stump left on its shoulders. Leo beats back urge to vomit at the stench, and instead lashes out with a kick that sends the body flying.
Then he's turning on his heels and dashing towards the kedan and two zombies. He knows before he gets within reach that he's too late - the corpses stand poised over their victim, the gray pallor of their arms completely slicked over by the bright shine of fresh, living blood. One turns to him and gurgles, chunks of flesh dribbling from its reddened mouth, and it gives Leo a view of the kedan: nothing more than a lifeless corpse with a pile of meat where its stomach used to be. The tiny knife lies glinting in its hand.
A roar of fury shakes Leo's frame. He raises his katana, ready to spring forward and attack - but before he can even move, there's a rush of wind at his back and something slams hard into his shell. As his katana clatter to the ground Leo feels a pair of clammy arms fly over his shoulders, joined shortly by legs crushing against the sides of his waist, and the zombie's limbs lock across his abdomen before sending him toppling forward into the hard ground.
The urge to vomit spikes in his gut again at the stench of decay - thick liquid plops down onto his head, and he twists on the ground, glimpsing a pair of shoulders and a base of meaty, dripping flesh where the head had just been moments ago. Still alive -!
He wrenches his neck back straight, dragging forward and reaching for his katana. "Get...off!"
no subject
He can hear the sounds of killing ringing through the back of his mind, the snap and tear of sinew as the kedan's primal screams are strangled out of him. Eaten alive.
When he hears his brother struggling, the whirlwind stops, and a bolt of fear rushes through him like electricity. No, not fear, rage, like a fire lit with kerosene. With an explosion of strength he drives his fist into the monster's head and it cracks like an egg.
In the few moments it earns him, he charges his brother's decapitated attacker. The zombie's hardly anything but meat as he wrenches it off Leo's shell, one of its arms ripping free of its socket with the force. The other arm thrashes blindly, its cracked nails clawing deep into the flesh of his bicep.
"We gotta get out of here!" He roars, throwing the miserable thing at another gang zombies attracted by the scent of a fresh kill.
no subject
Raph makes the call to retreat and Leo can't argue - their weapons are useless if cutting and stabbing won't work. He glances down to where the alley opens up into the street, hordes of the disgusting undead ambling about and some of them heading this way. Yeah, retreating sounds good.
"Fire escape," he cries, turning to face the newest wave closing in. If they can just get to the rooftops...against his better judgment, Leonardo's eyes drift to the kedan's body - and a cold, sick feeling solidifies in his gut like a block of ice.
The corpse is moving. Leo watches in muted horror as its limbs twitch, bending and twisting into unnatural positions. The pulpy mass of its abdomen trembles with the movement, dark blood and gore rippling in the air like rancid soup. Then the kedan's head lifts, and slowly, with a jerking motion and horrible grinding of vertebrae, it twists to meet his gaze with a glistening crimson maw. Eyes dead, sunken...and so very starving.
Leo tears away to look at Raph. "Move!"
no subject
It's a small mercy that these things are too wracked with rigor mortis to make their way up the rickety stairway. He reaches the rooftop, panting and gore-covered, and more than a little disturbed. Below them the zombies moan and paw at the brick, lamenting their escaped prey.
Still, Raphael can't help himself. He perches on the side of the rooftop and watches with morbid fascination as the body of the dead kedan drags itself onto its feet and ambles out of the alleyway with the other creatures, its half-eaten intestines dragging behind him.
Soon the alley is just a gore-spattered memory, the monsters filed back into the streets in search of easier prey.
no subject
He scrambles to join his brother at the rooftop's edge. The zombies clawing at the walls with gaping, rotted faces stare back, their heads angled too far up to be natural, many of them coated in the gore of nameless victims. Leo watches in silence with his brother until they give up and shamble away - including the kedan.
Now it's just the two of them. Leo backs away from the roof's edge and sits down, hanging his head and shaking it. Unbelievable. He's seen more than his share of disturbing situations in his life, but this is a serious contender for something he'll be seeing in his nightmares. The stench of the zombies' blood, congealed thickly on the both of them, makes him want to puke up everything he's eaten in the last week or two; this is even worse than Stockman's degeneration.
"Damn." Succinct enough.
no subject
He's more than a little shaken up, and it's a feeling he doesn't really know how to cope with. The best he can do is just try not to think about it. Just keep moving. Eventually this whole thing will be over one way or another. He just hopes it won't cost them their lives.
He stands in silence for a long while, pulling himself inward and away from everything he just saw. His eyes are dark, disturbed, his stomach twisting inside of him.
But he won't give in to it. He refuses to go down this way. They have to keep moving. They can't just sit around and let this happen. Let people die. Let them become one of those things.
What's most disturbing of all his just how close he came to getting bit himself. How close Leo got. If that happened to his brother he doesn't know what he'll do.
Either way, they can't stay here. Not with those things falling from the sky. But he's got absolutely no clue what they're supposed to do next.
"What now, Leo?" He knows it's the question of the century. "We can't stay here. We're sittin' ducks."
no subject
"Yeah, I know." Got to keep moving. Leo climbs to his feet, ignoring the stickiness of the blood on his skin. The base of his skull and his nuchal scutes feel nauseatingly slick and gummy; that decapitated zombie must have been shooting jets of gore at him. He shudders and turns to face the streets.
The corpses are everywhere. Ambling along with deceptive sluggishness, their guttural moans rising above the sounds of shuffling feet and creaking bones. Leo's stomach sinks when he begins spotting kedan in the horde. There's so many of them...they're probably already too late to save anyone with the misfortune of being in the streets when the jiangshi started coming down.
But they can't do nothing. Maybe they can't fight these things, but they're good for a hell of a lot more than that. Leo's gaze slides to the streets behind them, where the jiangshi are crowding the narrow passageways surrounding the canals. A handful of bodies float in the water, limbs frozen stiff with rigor mortis, dead eyes circling wildly in their sockets.
...it's too cold down here for this to be as good an idea as he wishes it were. If the temperature gets to them before they get to the suite - if it slows them down too much, they're at serious risk. But even the rooftops aren't safe so long as they keep coming down from the sky, and Leo honestly doubts they can outrun one of those things at full speed if the ones in the alley were any indication. And their stench...
"At this rate they'll smell us coming from a mile away." Leo doesn't bother to hide the disgust in his voice as he turns to Raph with a grimace. "And it doesn't look like these guys are great swimmers. We'll go by the canals - wash this stuff off and make our way back to the suite. We need to fortify it and come up with a plan."
no subject
At least the smell hasn't gotten to him as bad as it has for Leo. Maybe because he always seems to be the one getting slimed every time they have the pleasure of fighting something disgusting. He gets in close in ways that none of his other brothers' fighting styles would dare, and it definitely lacks the finesse of sword boy's over there. Sure, it stinks, but he's got other things on his mind.
Like how the hell they're gonna make it out of here alive.
They stick to the rooftops as they head toward the canals that replace much of the Sector's main streets, dodging falling dead and shrapnel as their heavy landings pulverize clay roof tiles. Whenever he gets a chance, Raph plunges his sai into the reanimated corpses, shoving them off the side of buildings to the hard ground below.
By the time they reach the canal the streets are like clogged arteries. Clots of zombies claw at boarded-up storefronts lusting for any promise of a meal. But the water's too shallow to risk a dive from the rooftops. They'll have to go down.
Standing on the edge of the roof, looking down into the zombie hoard, Raphael wonders if breaking his neck just might be the better alternative.
no subject
But for now, he pushes it away. Letting his focus wander here would be a fatal mistake. There's nothing they can do for anyone as they are now - they need to get somewhere safe, somewhere with room to breathe, and then he can deliberate on their next move. One step at a time.
They come to the rooftop's edge and crouch down to survey the streets below. It's a straight shot to the canal, maybe ten meters from the building they're perched on - child's play, if not for the zombies congested along the narrow street in thick droves. Leo's eyes flicker back and forth across the horde. Even eighteen years of ninjitsu training can't get them through this kind of crowd unnoticed.
Then the sharp, fresh memory of a clattering ladder rings in his ears, followed by images of zombies streaming into the alley. Worked before, it should work again.
"We need to make a distraction." His voice is still level, and it gives him hope that he still looks more confident than he feels. Leo stalks down the length of the roof's edge towards the stores lining the streets. "Anything that'll make a big enough noise to get these things moving."
no subject
He grits his teeth, wracking his brain and wishing he was a hell of a lot smarter. Thinking had never been his forte. Times like these, he was so much better turning off his brain and going with his gut. All thinking ever did was get him frustrated. He could feel the tension rising already.
It sucks to think just how bad off they really are without Mike or Don. Much as he'd like to believe he can operate just fine on his own, this was one of those situations that proved just how wrong that kind of thinking really was. He might be an accomplished fighter, but he and his brothers will always operate better as a unit. Two absent brothers meant he and Leo were scrambling to pick up the slack.
But missing brothers or no, they were ninja. And ninja, above all else, had to be resourceful. His hands wrap tight around the pommels of his sai, watching the zombies staggering through the streets like a pack of diseased, mad dogs desperate for their next meal.
Almost unconsciously his hand drops to his belt, thick fingers fumbling through the hidden, sewn-in pouch for anything that could be useful. When he touches cool, smooth plastic, he thinks he might be on to something.
"Think these'll do the trick?" He asks, holding open his palm for Leo to inspect. In his hand he holds two impact smoke bombs, courtesy of Don-boy himself.
no subject
"They'd better," he replies, his tone hard - they'll work, even if just through Leo exerting his will over them. No room for debate. Rolling the thing between his fingers, Leo faces back towards the roof's edge and crouches down.
...hell. For a selfish moment, he even wishes Mikey were with them - the all-knowing guru of pop culture clichés. Figures that the one turtle who would be the best consultant for a zombie attack isn't even here. Leo has no idea if these things can be disoriented, and even if they can, it's going to be like forcing their way through a...whatever Raph calls those things. Mosh pits. Only instead of crazed people slamming into each other, this one has zombies wanting to rip chunks of their flesh off.
Not one bite. He isn't willing to risk even one.
Ten meters isn't a lot of ground, but their smoke bombs are really just meant for a quick, disorienting cloud of smoke to slip away under. They simply aren't made for widespread coverage. Leo chews on his tongue for a brief moment, struggling to work around the pressing need to stay on the move.
Finally, he looks at Raph. "I'll throw mine first. We only have a window of a few seconds for each, so you'll have to use yours once we touch down." Raph's got the best aim out of all of them; Leo's confident he can judge it correctly even from within a smokescreen. "Once we hit the canal, we keep underwater and make our way back east towards the suite."
He draws a katana and stands. "Ready?"
no subject
He'll risk his own shell before he'll ever sit around and let that happen.
He gives his brother a short nod, and the plan is set in motion. Leo's bomb explodes on the narrow walkway with a flash of light and the snap of gunpowder. Thick white smoke unfurls through the street, and the zombies start filing toward the source of the sound.
This is their chance. They plunge of the side of the building and into the chaos. The two story drop feels like an eternity. The sudden impact jolts his brain into hyperspeed, ducking and rolling to soften the blow. Leonardo's not far away, and he plans to keep it that way, never letting him escape his peripheral vision. He throws his bomb down.
A second snap as it cracks against the stone walkway several feet away. White smoke chokes the air, blinding him to everything more than a hand's breadth away. But it's a straight shot to the canal. Only a few yards and they'll be home free.
He doesn't see the zombie until it's colliding into his side, its stink assaulting his nostrils, all gnashing teeth and broken fingernails scraping against his shell. And where there's one, there's more, drawn toward them by the tantalizing scent of living souls.
It's all Turtle Luck running true to form. The bombs might have bought them a few seconds, but the smoke's doing nothing to slow these things down. But Raphael's in no mood to fight these undead sacks of rot all over again. Not like this. Not when he knows they can't win.
So he hunches his shoulders and charges into the knot of bodies, plowing through them like a linebacker on a straight route toward the canal. He barrels across the street like a charging bull, ignoring the feel and scent of clammy, rotting flesh colliding with his own.
When he hits the water, the cold snatches the breath from his lungs. A bolt of panic shudders through his synapses as he dives into the frigid water, part biology, part fear. Somewhere in the insanity he's lost sight of Leo. But he can't stop now. Clammy hands rake at his ankles, claw at his carapace, but he kicks off hard and propels himself toward the direction of the suite.
Alarm bells are ringing in his head.
He can't stop now.
He's lost Leo.
He can't stop.
The chill grips his heart and fills his veins with ice water.
Can't stop.
He dodges sodden corpses.
Can't.
Darkness creeps into the edges of his vision.
Stop.
In his mind of minds, he can feel his brother close by. The rest fades into a blur of color and noise. He's running on autopilot. His whole body is numb. The cold air bites into his bones as he breaks up through the surface, just yards from the suite's front door.
The undead are waiting for them there.
His mind runs a primal, sluggish track far slower than his reflexes. His mind has checked out, but he's still fighting. Still fighting for the single, ingrained purpose of staying alive.
Through the whirlwind haze, one thought breaks through the curtain and hits him like a Mac truck. He has to find his brother.
"Leo!"
His name tears through his throat like razorblades.
He has to find his brother.
He has to get out of here.
He has to survive.
no subject
Then there's a muted, shattering sound, and the space next to him suddenly explodes into a wall of blinding white. Raph sinks through the mass of air bubbles, twisting and kicking at a jiangshi, and the moment it tears away from him they both arrow off in the direction of the suite.
The canals are shallow, allowing Tu Vishan's gentle light to stream through the water's surface. Not nearly enough. Dark shadows pitch across the surface as they swim, bloated, watery bodies drifting lazily above them like harmless debris.
They're pulling away from the shopping district, drawing closer to the residential blocks. Less light.
And it's freezing. Getting darker.
And soon enough Leo loses sight of his brother. Raph's silhouette, outlined in a deep black against the dim light, fades into the dark waters like a blurred memory. He lurches towards his brother in the water, reaching out to brush his skin, but the empty darkness greets him instead.
Leonardo freezes for a terrifying moment. He spins wildly around to the space behind them, searching for Raphael, for a motionless body in the water, but all he sees is a shred of his trailing bandana tails and a silent, yawning abyss. No. If he's left him behind, he'll...
His body cries out as the frigid water seeps into his flesh. No. No, you idiot. You're the one getting left behind. Keep. Moving.
His single breath of air rapidly cooling in his lungs, he kicks off and keeps moving. Catch up to Raph...keep him close. Froze up like an idiot.
He goes on like that for what feels like a lifetime, pushing forward with an icy darkness closing on the edges of his vision, so it almost surprises him when he hears a muffled bellow that sounds almost like his name. Raph's form materializes in the distance a few moments later, his head broken through the surface of the water.
Leo kicks up to join him. Freezing air rushes him as he breaks through, and for a second he's blinder than a shrew, but within the next gasp of air he's grasping for Raph's shell. "S'okay," he breathes quietly, teeth chattering. He squeezes his brother's shoulders gently, even as his eyes lock onto the jiangshi gathering at the canal's edge. "I'm right here. C'mon."
no subject
A second later they're barreling through another pack of them, mercifully smaller in number than the ones that had gathered on the main street. He barely flinches at the sick squelch of his sai piercing half-rotted abdomens and the give of softened bones beneath his blows.
When they finally reach the door, he almost stumbles over his own feet. But somehow they make it in, manage to barricade the door with a heavy chest of drawers before exhaustion hits him so hard his knees buckle under the weight.
no subject
They make it inside, where Leo quickly props the door shut with a chair until they can shove a huge set of drawers in front of it for a proper barricade. He's amazed how his muscles are still working despite the fact that he can't quite feel them anymore.
But then Raph goes crashing down, and it sends a hot spike of panic through Leo's chest that shocks him back into awareness. He drops to his knees beside his brother and sits him up against the drawers, pressing the back of his hand against his cheek.
"Easy, bro," he mumbles, pulling Raph's sopping wet bandana off and tossing it to the side. He does the same with his own, then pulls Raph slightly forward, hoping to get him away from the barricade. He must weigh a ton. How the hell did they move that chest?
Windows...gotta fortify the windows too.
Warm up Raph first. Maybe himself, while he's at it. Don's always having to do this for them in winter; it's not any different now. What did he always -?
"Come on, Raph." He gives his brother a few gentle slaps on the cheek. "Let's get to the shower. Like Donny always has us do."
Please work with him, bro. He's not sure he can drag you all the way there by himself.
no subject
Oh, and Leo slapping him. He reaches up and pushes his hands away. "Stoppit," he slurs, shaking his head to clear it. But Leo's right. Can't rest here. Need to get warm before he gives into it completely.
All he really wants to do is sleep. Bad idea with a pack of zombies knocking at your door, but the thought is so, so tempting.
Instead he hauls himself back up and scrubs a hand over his bare face. Shower. Yeah... like Donny always has them do. "I'm goin', I'm goin'," he grumbles in a sleep-fogged voice, sounding like he just crawled out of bed.
The walk to the bathroom feels like wading through concrete, but he makes it with little trouble. His reflection in the mirror is still streaked with tarry gore even his dip in the canal couldn't wash away. But he tries not to think about it, clumsily stripping off his gear with numb fingers. He's shivering so bad he can barely keep his hands from shaking.
no subject
No. He's not that stupid. It's just the two of them; if he pushes himself too far, there'll be no one to look after Raph. Just a quick few minutes to warm up, that's all he'll need.
When they make it inside he leaves Raph to strip off his gear and stumbles forward into the shower, his fingers slipping on the cool metal knobs as he scrabbles to grab them. He finally latches on, turns them both at the same time, and then a jet of water immediately sprays out of the nozzle, drenching him in lukewarm water.
...his brain immediately switches off. The pure reptilian instinct to soak in warmth, shut everything down and just bask, is overwhelming. But...he can't. No. Leo forces it away, jerking back from the shower as if the nozzle were shooting acid. Raph needs it first. Dripping water onto the tiled floor and ignoring the angry protest of his body at the new chill, he reaches forward to give his brother's elbow a gentle pull.
"C'mon...in you go."
no subject
But quickly enough he starts to acclimate, feeling the numbness drain out of him and down the drain, turning his limbs to jello. He closes his eyes and hangs his head in the stream, water running down the back of his neck and pooling where flesh meets his carapace.
Slowly, he has to ease himself to sitting. His brain is downshifting too fast to focus on anything else. The frigid static of his mind melts into the warm, hazy embrace of basking instinct.
He has just enough presence of mind to barely lift his head, looking at his brother with one eye. "You comin' or what?" He mumbles. Seriously. Quit being such a martyr. The shower's just big enough to share, if only barely.
no subject
In fact, he thinks he's doing a pretty good job of staying alert, so when Raph cracks open one eye to address him, it surprises him how hard it is to lift his head and make sense of what was just said. It comes to him after a few tries and his eye ridges draw together in response.
"It'll be a tight fit," he mumbles drowsily. He isn't quite sure why that's worth bringing up - he wouldn't flinch if it were Mike or Don. Must be because...because of some dumb reason he's too cold to care about right now. Right then. Invitation accepted.
He wills strength into his legs and miraculously takes the three or so steps it takes to get into the shower. A truly herculean feat. Water sprays across his face, running down onto his plastron, and he bites back the hiss of mixed pain and relief that threatens to slip between his teeth. Leo slides down the shower wall slowly, dismissive of his shell against tile. Lands wedged next to Raph. Huh, this is tight.
Whatever. He leans slightly against his brother, and just...checks out. Somehow, it's even easier this time.
no subject
He tilts his head back against the tile, letting the water run down his plastron and his slowly clearing mind process everything that just happened.
"How about we not do that again," he drawls. Of course he's referring to their icy swim in the canal and not the fighting zombies thing. There's no way he's gonna stay locked up in his suite like some coward. Not when there's still people out there who might need their help.
no subject
He doesn't elaborate on that second part, but even with his brain fogged up the gnawing self-doubt finds a way to pick at him. He knew it had been a shaky plan when considering their biology...it was a huge gamble. But the Water Sector's architecture didn't have rooftops going on forever outside of the shopping district, not like New York or even the Fire Sector. They never would've made it on foot. Of course, they barely made it this way. Maybe there'd been a better alternative entirely.
Kick himself around more later. Soak up warmth now.
It takes him a few moments longer, but eventually the fog in his brain is washed away by the blissfully lukewarm water. He kind of wants to crank the heat up even more, but Donny always got so cranky whenever he tried to do that back in their world. Guess he shouldn't do that, then. A rueful smile twitches his lips.
Then Raph's grunt catches up to him, and Leo's suddenly struck by the oddity of it. His eyes blink open against the water and he lolls his head to the side, looking his brother over. He catches sight of the jagged scratch wound across his bicep.
"Where'd you get that?" he asks, brow furrowing.
no subject
"Dunno," he says with a shrug. And that's the truth. That whole thing had felt like one big blur, and he usually didn't remember the source of most of the smaller wounds he earned in fights anyways. Long as it wasn't a bite he didn't really care.
Or that's what he's thinking as he tries to block out the way the little scratch seems to throb in time with his heartbeat. Or the way the edges of it looked kind of red and puckered. He got enough crud in it that it's no surprise it might be a little angry.
no subject
He's feeling pretty clear-headed now, but he's still cold and aching. Leo takes an extra minute or two to scrub the last remnants of gore from his person. Especially the back of his head, which lets loose jelly-like clumps of dark blood that turn the water pink as it circles down the drain.
He's quiet for a moment, neck cricked back against the palm pressing at it. "We have to do the windows too," he mutters. "And then we'll check the network. Maybe someone's already come up with a way to fight them effectively."
no subject
Outside the bathroom door, he can hear the chaos in the streets. Shrieks of pain and fear, gunshots. A falling body slams into the roof, making him practically jump halfway out of his shell. The impact rattles the tiles, sending motes of ceiling plaster raining down on their heads. Raphael bares his teeth and growls at the sound of the thing fumbling around above them.
They can't just sit here. Not when there's a freakin' zombie apocalypse happening right outside. "Yeah," he growls, quickly scrubbing the wound and rinsing off. No more wasting time. They have to get back out there and do something. "I hope so."
As he hastily puts on his gore-stained gear, he's already shivering. It's hard to fight off that primitive part of his brain that only aches for the shower's warmth again. But if they don't act soon, these things are gonna find a way in and turtle will be at the top of the menu. Not gonna happen. "You check the network. I'll get the windows."