St. Pat's Crawl [March GM Event]

[Ramona (DELETED 10272)]

“Love not fear, We want the cure!”

The small group of half a dozen of so people of like minds waved their self-made, picket signs high in the air as they marched down the streets of Harper Rock for their cause. Ramona's life had fallen in the spectrum of normal until ten or so days ago. That was the night her husband to be had been bitten and turned into a zombie. A zombie that now resided in her apartment bathroom behind a locked door for safe keeping from anyone who was trying to kill the zombies.

How could they do it? How could they spend Sunday night at the dinner table, and then by Monday afternoon shoot grandma in the back of her head?

When faced with the choice of killing her husband, Ramona had chosen not to kill him. To spare his life. If there was a cure for becoming a vampire, then she knew there damn well was a cure for zombies, or there would be soon. And soon, Mateo would be back to his regular self.

The streets were crowded, not because of their message, but because of the holiday. It was down right disgusting. Watching people carry on while their loved ones were becoming the walking dead. Being killed, when Ramona knew damn well the zombies were intelligent creatures with feelings. They stemmed from humans and if they had absolute no intelligence, then how could they walk? How could they eat? And as for feelings-well...ever hear someone shoot one and miss? The sounds they made seemed to say that YES! Zombies did have feelings!

Ramona and her small band of followers repeated the catchy slogan, as Ramona did a slow spin around with her phone that was live streaming to her SJW web page, designed by her long time, college friend and classmate, Beezus. “As you can see, citizens of Harper Rock, the city is in shambles. Not because of the zombies, but because of our very own human race!” She showed a car that had its windows smashed out, set ablaze from the back seat somewhere off to her right. Then, she showed stores that had been spray painted to the left of her and the group. And finally, behind them were the carcasses of those that had once been alive, turned zombie and killed. “And so I ask you all, who are the REAL monsters of Harper Rock?” She turned the camera back on her friends who were still chanting, with raised signs and fists to accompany their cries.

And then she heard it. The sound of music and people inside an establishment. Ramona stopped dead in her tracks and held her fisted hand up for silence from the group. “This, this my friends is a first hand view of the monsters of Harper Rock. While their friends, family and pets are turned into zombies and plucked off the streets by vandals and hoodlums, here they sit celebrating a holiday with drinks, dancing and celebrate the deceased!” Ramona slowly opened up the bar's door and did a quick pan of the establishment and everyone in it with her phone, before entering.

It wasn't difficult to spot Beezus. They had classes together in college and even roomed together for a year. The seated stature of the woman was one she had seen at least a hundred times in their dorm room, at the library or at lunch and dinner. “BEEZUS!” Ramona shouted to the woman who was drinking water. “Got our followers outside, fighting the good fight again. What are you doing in here?” She asked as Ramona came closer to the woman that had her own phone recording. “Doing an inside story about the injustice and inhumanity of the living in Harper Rock? How can anyone sit here, knowing there probably is a cure out there? Hate to see inside their private lives.” Ramona asked, before shaking her head in a judgmental way. “Their worse than the people out there killing our family, friends, and neighbors.” She muttered before saying loudly, “All of you could be the change Harper Rock needs to see!” She pushed the water away from Beezus.

“Come on! The people need to see and know what's going on. I heard there was a guy buying zombie ears over in Riverrock.” Ramona panned to her face to show a clear, deep frown on her face. “That could be Mateo's ear some day. Anyone's Mateo.” A quick spin back to where Beezus was sitting, showed the woman as Ramona added in. “The grave depravity of the crimes being committed against our zombie brethern can't wait to be reported any longer. I'll see you outside!” Ramona grabbed the glass of water, gulped some it down and zipped to the door. “I hope none of you have a Mateo waiting at home for you!” With that she was out the door, entering the standing protesters once again, screaming their battle cry as the door to the bar closed.

[Jack Diddly]

A rumble of commotion brought the band’s playing to a halt. May vanished as soon as it began, he couldn’t say that he was surprised by that. The crowd around the stage made a few gasping noises, some cried out, and others laughed in their drunken stupor. It didn’t take Jack long to see why. A behemoth of a man threw three zombies over the bar as if they had been a few mere sacks of potatoes. They fell with a series of sickening crunches and splatters against the pot o gold, causing the contents to spill out with a loud clatter. An empty half circle naturally formed around the area where the gore was plopped. Guess the selfies with a leprechaun and his treasure were going to have to be canceled. This guy was obviously no mere mortal and clearly he had a point to make. Jack pushed his way back through the crowd a bit to get a better look, as the man’s voice thundered throughout the bar with all the wrath of hell behind it. It silenced most of the patrons who seemed utterly awed. Jack thought it was some way to crash a party.

The ‘discussion’ seemed to revolve around three main actors, the Party Crasher, the Saint Paddy’s Shark (who Jack now knew was the festive proprietor of this establishment with its many shamrocks), and a nervous blonde woman. If the Party Crasher was to be believed he was making a decent argument. Jack didn’t have a lot of background on the topic, but he read the papers...current events and politics had always held a interest to him. The thing of it was, the media always printed a special spin as nothing, but the truth. The dead were walking the earth, it had been prophesied, praise the Lord the End is Near, let’s pump up the fear! Never let a good catastrophe go to waste, it was the motto of every modern government. Harper Rock was no different and now the administration was on the verge of an unprecedented power grab, ‘for the protection of the citizenry.’ Once power is taken though, it is rarely returned. The exposition of this monster of a vampire only confirmed Jack’s sneaking suspicion that humanity and not vampire kind had been behind the increase in the mindless, blood thirsty undead.

Mankind was a cruel and domineering species. Jack knew this even when, not so long ago, he had counted himself among them. Humanity preyed on the reactionary impulses of its weaker members and exploited them through promises of luxury, assurances of pleasure, and a solid torrent of fear. It made the young vampire’s blood boil thinking about it, thinking about all they had taken from him. He hadn’t even realized how hard he was clenching his fists, the nails digging into his flesh and drawing a bit of blood. Could there ever be peace between humans and vampires, as the pub’s proprietor preached, when humans were so bitterly divided against themselves? ‘Hold your tongue, bide your time…’ May’s soft voice swayed through the contours of his mind, cautioning him. It was always best to play the long game.

A fourth actor took the stage as Jack scanned the bar for his sire. This one was a redhead well in her cups, her’s was the Roman argument it seemed. As the world burned, bread and circuses world keep the people keeping on. There was conflict in him, though. He was, after all, an entertainer of sorts. Not like your Jay Z’s and Miley Cyrus’s of the world, but a man with a song to sing nonetheless. After this, he knew he’d need some answers. As the fifth of tonight’s thespians took center stage, the young vampire wasn’t sure if he should be amused or confused.

Zombies, you hate ‘em right? They were rather annoying and in some cases let their rot drop all over you. Not to mention that they seemed to act as the current tools of oppression. Jack had been dispatching of as many as he came in contact with, since the very night of his turning, when he discovered firsthand that they weren’t some concocted rumor and that the monsters under the bed were more real than imagined in Harper Rock. So when a woman entered the bar espousing that zombies could be cured, returned to the men, women, and children who they had once been, rather than slaughtered, it left Jack proverbially scratching his head. It was said the Lazarus had been returned to life by Jesus of Nazareth, but he was pretty sure that Lazarus wasn’t yet decomposing when the miracle worker arrived. Had this woman and her followers seen a zombie? Even if you somehow stopped the virus, there was no way the body or the mind could be saved, not in the state that most of them were in. Jack heard them screaming outside, “Another cause to divide us all…” he muttered.

[Mordechai]

The chuckle grew louder as Mordechai watched the man of the hour awkwardly pretending to attack the twice dead inanimate necrotic corpses. They had met in battle before, and the allurist had always seemed a competent, if uninspired foe, but this was almost amusing to watch. The man had the grace and agility of a five year old boy playing dress-up in his mother’s stilettos… the only thing missing was poorly smeared lipstick, but he probably saved that for behind closed doors. The killer did a quick second appraisal as he had obviously missed something the first time, and this deeper look showed the proof was in the pudding. Somehow the ‘cure’ or whatever it was that had cursed Lancaster back into ‘humanhood’ had left him the extensive knowledge of weapons he had gained as a vampire, but stolen his skill and ability to actually use them in either defense or offense. The stench of catholic cannabis had enlightened the killer to the casting of Eirene’s when he first entered the bar, but it had been interesting to see that The demifae could distinguish between a living body, and an obviously completely inert corpse, and had allowed the brave show of manly prowess to help the feeble male to attract a mate for the night.

Mordechai moved deeper into the bar, eyes searching the crowd as he answered. “That was an impressive show you put on for the little lady, protecting her from the twice dead. It was amusing to watch you almost fumble stabbing an inanimate object. You have trouble hunting, now that you have chosen to become less?. Get your *** kicked on a regular basis now?” The laughter continued to build. “Perhaps it was best that you swallowed that poison, as an evolved, you were forever hiding behind the skirts of a woman, now as a human… nah you will never amount to anything” Turning back to face the man he queried, “Do you really think that giving money away will bring you forgiveness? Do you think the children of these drunks will forgive you when their parents never make it home, or worse, do make it home, and with seeping wounds attack them? You are more loathsome now, than you ever were before” The killer slipped on to a tall stool and began to slowly toe it in circles. "I will take an A-...barkeep. Then you can get back to the latest splittail to buy your line of ********.” One last dismissive appraisal of the blonde as his eyes swept over her was followed by a snort the old adages certainly held in this case, one stupid woman.

[Lancaster]

Lancaster rolled his eyes.

The zombies may have been ‘twice dead’ but they were, afterall, zombies. Liable to come back from the dead. They didn’t helpfully disperse into ash when killed, like vampires. One could never be too sure.

The roll of the eyes was directed at the man’s childish insults. For one so large, one might expect him to act his age rather than like an unreasonable three-year-old incapable of coherent and reasonable adult conversation. The way he was acting, Lancaster had to doubt he’d ever had a reasonable conversation with the guy, if he’d ever met him at all.

Lancaster was a pacifist. And, though humanity had its flaws, becoming a vampire didn’t wipe one of those flaws. It only exemplified them, magnified them, made them worse than what they were. Anyone who believed that by becoming a vampire they left the flaws of humanity behind, they were wrong. Whatever existed in a man as a human was still there when he was turned. Vampire or human it mattered not – there was good and there was evil, and no whole species should be punished for the actions of a few. He believed that for vampires. He believed that for humanity.

Lancaster turned to Camden.

”Ignore him,” he said, turning to the bartenders, too. ”Don’t serve him anything. He’s been told to leave. I’ll be calling the authorities to come and remove him from the establishment if he doesn’t go,” he said, shaking his head.

”I’m not going to entertain the insults of a three-year-old misogynist in an adult’s body,” he said, and then he raised his voice to address the bar – or those at least that were paying attention to the commotion. ”This bar is a safe haven from the chaos outside. Shuttle buses are provided for those who want a safe ride home,” he said. Those who’d come as part of the pub crawl had come by coach – as safe as the buses. Honestly, he wondered what the hell the hulking three year old hoped to gain by harassing a group of revellers only hoping to have a good time amidst the darkness.

[Beezus (DELETED 10273)]

The live feed continued as Beezus rocked her backside off the chair beneath her and stood up. Ramona was a live wire. Always had been. The true art of protesting peacefully or otherwise had been something taught to her by the woman back in college. Beezus always had a shorter fuse than patient protest generally called for. It didn’t make her any less passionate on causes they both shared. It just meant that Beezus needed to learn which was what the past four years had been about. Her lessons were still active right outside Lancaster’s pub.

“Check this out…”

The cell phone panned to the direction Ramona was heading while Beezus classic soles started stepping in the same path. A slow turn on her heels midstep had her panning the feed towards the bar owner who appeared to be announcing the perks of the establishments interior celebration.

“That’s right my live crew. Grab your dancing shoes and c’mon down. Mob dance about to begin in Lancaster’s. Dancing for the cure and to bring all our Mateo’s home. Sign holders welcome. Walkers too!” Her voice grew with enthusiasm with each backward step. “And free shuttle bus rides home. First to arrive get two for one drinks! Thanks for your support!” A thumping of her fist on her chest sent up the same hand and gave a sign of her lion digit telling all they are number one. “Let’s get this PROTEST PARTY STARTED!” Beezus cry for chaos rang out as she pulled the doors open allowed the cries for a cure outside to be heard.

[Amaranthia]

If he'd thought the woman diminutive before, he'd have another thing coming now, with her in her secondary form. She was unsure if the male knew this form, but there's a part of her who hoped he hadn't, or at least that he wouldn't notice the spider perched at the back of his neck, peering out just enough to follow what was happening. She wasn't quite ready to make her public return, having kept to the confines of the relative safety of The Necropolis since she had returned to Harper Rock. She didn't recognize most of the parties, but she felt like this would be a good way to learn some information about what had been going on, and not cause Mordechai to distress or be concerned for her safety.

She felt the press of Eirenne's Will upon Lancaster's, however seeing the zombies inside the establishment struck a primitive chord within her that sang of something amiss. This was very much concerning, she'd seen something similar, but it had been quickly contained, however, that time there had not been so much technology. It was easy to claim someone "touched" by mental illness, to claim it was nothing more than hallucinations or the Fae. This time though, there would be recordings and proof, which meant it could not be contained. That, terrified the ancient allurist far deeper than she would admit, perhaps even to Mordechai.

[Mordechai]

For the briefest of moments Mordechai divided his attention. He maintained an eye on the narsissist as he let his senses absorb the sounds and scents of the remainder of the bar, making a mental image of who was what and where they were. A familiar scent, fading but not too old slid into his olfactory system for analyzation and a smile tugged one corner of his lips as he listened to the blatherings of the fool Lancaster before he reached out telepathically to the one he scented. ~Alex, my friend. I have just received valuable information from a reliable source.~ His eyes scanned over two yippies dancing around with their cellphones, talking about a ‘cure’ for zombies before he continued. ~there are some Zombie rights activists at Lancasters, and I overheard them say they were going to call in a disturbance here, to try and divide the police’s manpower. Tell Harry that they can ignore any calls from Lancaster’s, I will deal with them in my usual diplomatic method, and he can keep his men in a united front against the real enemies of the city.~

His eyes were drawn to one that held a hint of eau de Alexandrea, and a quick scan proved him right, she had spawned again. Rising from the stool his chuckle started once more as his nearly eight foot height towered over those nearby. Spreading his shoulder as he rose, his gravelly voice came out deceptively soft. “You act tough and manly for your latest conquest, as you hide behind the fae. You say we should speak as gentlemen….and you talk of peace between vampires and humans…. Tell me, should we step outside and speak as gentlemen about your daytime attacks on vampires? How you sneak up on them and attack them as they are held helpless by the sun? Or are your patrons, aware of your true actions? Did you explain to them how you viciously assaulted Detective Romeo? Left her bleeding in her bed… Or do you not even remember their names?” The killer scoffed turning deeper into the room when a sudden shift in the air froze him. It was barely there, but he would know that scent anywhere, the delicate signature was tattooed deep inside him psyche. It was a minute trace, but oh so fresh, so strong, almost as if he held her in the tightest of embraces. Lavender. The killer continued towards the male he had identified as belonging to Alexandrea. His eyes took his measure as he reached out, a black card held between two fingers of his hand. Simple gold embossing proclaimed ‘midKnight Armaments’ Tipping his head in acknowledgement he waited for the man to take it as he spoke within his thoughts ~Your sire will vouch. If you have any needs~ Turning his head back towards the bar the brobdingnabian lifted an eyebrow. “So… shall we continue this outside? Or make everyone aware of your duplicity? I am sure Detective Romeo will be interested in your reasons.. As she has been diligent in her duties, and we have often worked together in an effort to ‘cure’ these poor victims of necrosis”

As he awaited both an action from the male, and an answer from the narcissistic traitor the killer inhaled deeply once more, the scent so close and strong, yet in such minute quantity… Once more he reached out for an entirely different reason ~My dearest Amaranthia…. I believe you have been a naughty girl~

[Ramona (DELETED 10272)]

F L A S H M O B

Flash mob to only the best zombie song made....EVER! Beezus was a genius. Ramona stopped recording what was going on in the streets and went to Youtube to pull up the music video by the King of Pop himself! Eyes landed on the party bus, where some guy was talking in a megaphone, announcing the stops he was going to make for the night. And doing a last call of sorts.

“Give ya twenty for the megaphone!” Ramona asked, fishing out a crumpled bill and waving it to the guy over the protests about the cure from her and Beezus' followers. He looked around, then countered with “Twenty to borrow it. Ten minutes.” He waved the megaphone at Ramona, who slapped the crumpled twenty in his hands and grabbed the megaphone not long after. “Deal. You won't want to miss this.” She went through the list of thriller videos on Youtube and shouted, “Places everyone!”

Ramona jumped smack dab in the middle of the small crowd that gathered, slapping Beezus on the arm with a **** eating grin on her face. “Great idea! Could raise money this way. Awareness for the cause!”Then, hit the play icon on her phone and held it against the megaphone while she held the button down, allowing the song to radiate from the open speaker as the group began their dance-athon outside of Lancaster's.

[Alexandrea]

he reached out telepathically to the one he scented. ~Alex, my friend. I have just received valuable information from a reliable source.~ His eyes scanned over two yippies dancing around with their cellphones, talking about a ‘cure’ for zombies before he continued. ~there are some Zombie rights activists at Lancasters, and I overheard them say they were going to call in a disturbance here, to try and divide the police’s manpower. Tell Harry that they can ignore any calls from Lancaster’s, I will deal with them in my usual diplomatic method, and he can keep his men in a united front against the real enemies of the city.~

Wearing~*

Popcorn went flying as the Allurist scrambled to get up out of the beanbag chair she'd retired into. Her bowl was tossed aside with fluffy salty kernels raining everywhere as she dug both hands into the shag carpet and hauled herself up out of the ball of quicksand. She cursed whoever created the evil piece of furniture, betting it was one of those spidery siren types behind the whole thing.

At last the blonde stood up free of the so-called chair, relaying the message from Mordi to Harry while kicking off her Rabbit slippers and hitting pause on her VCR. The best part of The Quiet Man had just been about to start but it sounds like something even more entertaining was happening back at the bar.

It just figured. As usual, things had started to get interesting right after Alex had left the scene.

She dressed quickly in a new outfit, the clothes she'd had on earlier still damp and smelling of various kinds of liquor, with the crawl being over she could wear some heels (Not that they had done much walking during the crawl... Alex just had figured better safe than sorry) and she had the perfect boots.

She sent another message to Harry that she would let him know firsthand about Lancaster's, as she was headed back there now. There was no need for any police to get involved, she was sure.

Hoping to not miss any more of the excitement, Alexandera teleported herself directly to Lancaster's front door. Or at least she tried to... there was quite a bit of mess around it. With a bemused grin, Mz Quartermaine made her way back inside. Spotting the huge killer straight away (no wonder), the tiny blonde whistled loudly enough to be heard throughout the bar and half the surrounding province.

"Mordi!!!" Alex sang out cheerfully and waved both arms and jumping up and down so he had a better chance to spot her through the chaos; "Over here! Come dance with me!"

[Camden (DELETED 10212)]

[for_peace][/for_peace]

It wasn’t often that Camden thought someone short in the mind, but as the giant continued to speak – and disrespect the owner of Lancaster’s – she found herself wondering just how mental he truly was. Every word that spewed from his lips was nothing but a lie. Either he was pathological, or he held some sort of mental disorder that left him a few straws short. For all she knew, it was both, and despite Lancaster telling her to ignore him – she couldn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to walk away, to remove her hand from Elliot’s arm. She trusted Elliot – but it was the moronic beast that left her feeling uneasy. Instead, as the man turned back to her partner, effectively dismissing her as inconsequential – she dipped into a crouch to pull her work phone from her purse. This time, when her fingers fled over the screen, there was no hesitation. Her brother’s name was brought up, the phone to her ear – and his voice answering within seconds, his playful tone changing to concern before his greeting even finished.

“You’re calling awfully late, Cam—what is that noise?”

Ensuring that Elliot was in still acting as a wall between her and the vampire, she swept her gaze across the gathering crowd, the tension in the air palpable. Someone close to the door yelled out about a protest, another screamed about zombies – but the rest seemed to be ignoring the handful of those that showed enough disrespect to try and ruin the event. At least they seemed to have sense. “I’m at Lancaster’s. Elliot is hosting a party for the holidays, and some man has shown up, hollering about vampires, and some other patrons are going on about zombies. Lancaster asked the man to leave, but he’s not. I would have called the police, but at this point, I think you and your militia buddies may be the better option, and I don’t have the captain’s number on hand.” Her words flew rapidly from her tongue, and by the time she was finished speaking, her brother was all but sputtering and cursing – and, she was certain, trying to ground her in the middle of his anger.

“****, Camden. I told you to be careful – I told you to stay far the **** away from this place, but as usual, it doesn’t matter. I never wanted you inv—****, we don’t have time for this. We’ll talk later, okay? I’ve got Brent reporting in to the captain; we’ll be there in a few minutes. Just sit tight, and I swear to god, if Elliot lets a hair on your head be injured, I’ll shoot him on principle.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond, the call ending and the screen of her phone turning black. Dropping the well used device back into her bag, she reached up, her fingers curling around Elliot’s shoulder. “I have help coming. The militia will be here shortly.” Her smile was warm, the worry in her eyes well hidden as she reached over to grab her glass of sweet tea from the bar.

It was then – and only then – that she decided to address the giant across from them. “I am not sure what kind of tales you have fabricated within your mind, but you seem to believe them. However, Lancaster hasn’t attacked anyone. In fact, the only one causing any sort of trouble here – is you. You’ve been asked to leave, so please, do so, at least until you have had time to cool off. Let the rest of us enjoy our holiday in peace.” In the end, as terrified as she was, she was nothing but kind. All she wanted was peace – and she knew she shared that sentiment with Elliot, despite what the man before them might have chosen to believe. She couldn’t fault him for believing his own fabrications – she had witnessed it a thousand times in her students – but she could fault him on being so unreasonable, that he would lash out because of them.