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effinredcross ([info]effinredcross) wrote,
@ 2009-10-31 00:50:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Who: Simon Watts, Sebastian Winchcombe, and the ZombAussies
What: Red Cross Arrival
Where: Wouldn't they like to know?
When: Day One, October 31
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete(ly offensive)



The plane was fucking noisy, was what it was, but Sebastian was making the best of it. Didn't need his fucking hearing, and the cavernous dent forming on his forehead beneath the mandatory goggles could dig in as deep as it liked. Who was he aiming to impress? Simon? The shady fellow piloting the plane? The Australians?

Yeah, un-bloody-likely.

He turned to Simon, who looked pale and twitchy. Sebastian had forgotten his Twitchy, Pale scale at Simon's flat, so he was without a means to determine if the man was more or less a nervous wreck than usual. He mentally shrugged, jabbing his mate in the ribs as they zoomed along over land and sea.

"You wouldn't be thinking of vomiting, would you? The, uh. Landing should be rather calm. Smooth." They were all wearing parachutes, had undergone parachute training to avoid untimely disaster and death, and still Simon believed that the plane would glide onto a runway to let them out.

A good friend would've corrected the Kiwi. Seb was a bastard first, good friend second. A distant second. It would become problematic soon enough, but not just yet.

(Post a new comment)


[info]niftyfifties
2009-10-31 05:28 am UTC (link)
Simon didn't like flying. And as much as he appreciated the extra precautions - goggles, parachutes, and the like - they really did little to alleviate his fear of hitting the ground below with an icky sort of splat. Kiwis were flightless creatures... they really had no business being up in the air with no solid ground to plant their feet upon.

He'd known this would be a ridiculously long flight, but this was just getting unbearable. He wanted some coffee. And some cigarettes. And Seb's jabbing him in the ribs was getting fucking annoying.

"I can't... I can't w-w-w-wait for it. I hope these American runways are still... in y'know.... c-clean, working order. Wouldn't want to.... wouldn't... agh! .... want to d-d-damage the landing gear or anything, or getting b-back is g-going to be diffi... diffi... a real shitstorm. W-would it have been too much to ask for them to h-have given us some... some fucking h-h-headphones or something? I can't hear myself th-th-think!"

Frustratedly, he jabbed his mate even harder in the ribs, not for any reason other than he was nearer to him than the Australians. That's what friends were for, right? One had to take out one's anger on someone.

(Reply to this) (Thread)


[info]effinredcross
2009-10-31 06:02 am UTC (link)
If Simon gave his lunch a second shot at stardom, Sebastian was truly hoping he aimed at the Aussies. They had a rather smug way about them, holding their packs like they had invented the bloody bandaid. Seb wished to fuck the lot of them, metaphorically speaking. Without figurative language, they were certainly not his type.

Nothing against humans of a legal age in general, but even Sebastian had his limits.

"You're thinking of fucking landing gear?" Sebastian asked, scoffing over the heavy groans of a hunkering kiwi aircraft. What was next? Dreams of establishing refugee camps for zombies with feelings? With second-bloody-thoughts?

Behind his fashionable goggles, Sebastian was rolling his eyes. Facing forward, he went for a sneak attack, jabbing Simon again. They'd been at it like this for the entire journey. Why neither thought to add distance between their bodies, even the fucking Aussies didn't know. And they were snickering as though they knew everything.

"Well, mate, did you see that, uh. That mountain? Means we're about to travel to the ground. It's going to be so fucking cool." The door was slid open by one of the Australians and Seb gestured wide towards it. "Let's check the view, yeah? Your chute is on, right?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]niftyfifties
2009-10-31 06:11 am UTC (link)
"Oww," Simon complained as he was stealthily poked for the millionth time. He retaliated with what he hoped would hurt Sebastian even more, jabbing him hard in the neck this time.

"I f-f-fucking hate you," he informed Sebastian, though he was quickly distracted by the mention of a scenic view.

A true New Zealander through and through, he couldn't help but to adore his scenic views, be they foreign and zombie-infested or not.

"M-mountains? Which one?" Simon asked curiously, getting up at his mate's insistence that he have a look outside. Fear of falling or not, this was probably a once-in-a-lifetime sight.

"W-w-where? I don't see any - "

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]effinredcross
2009-10-31 06:31 am UTC (link)
There was a reason Simon didn't see any. A rather obvious reason, given Sebastian's sketchy track record with honesty. And then there was how he was smirking, blatant as could be. Seb was fairly certain that, if asked, neither of them could really explain why they were friends, let alone flatmates and Red Cross recruits together.

Make believe mountains aside, they were passing over the designated jump zone, and seeing trees in the distance was motivation not to miss it. Though Sebastian had yet to even consider their limited understanding of what they'd been launched into, he did know that crashing into a forest would require more than a few bandages and some antiseptic lotion to patch up.

He followed Simon, checking his mate's parachute under the guise of patting him affably on the back. "Right there, mate. The precipitous hill-like formation, see?" he yelled, as the noise quality at the door was even worse than in the belly of the plane. Sebastian figured if Simon kept searching the horizon for a bloody mountain, it would take a few extra seconds to realize his speech was being cut off by a hard shove off a plane.

T'would be a lie to say he didn't watch for a moment, snickering to himself as Simon began to plummet. But then Sebastian jumped. He fucking had to, after all!

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]niftyfifties
2009-10-31 09:14 pm UTC (link)
Simon greeted gravity with a markedly stutter-free "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!", falling several hundred feet before some vestige of survival instinct kicked in and he finally pulled the parachute cord. He spent the remainder of the fall loudly cursing that weaselly sonofabitch that had the nerve to call himself a friend and then pull stunts like this just for his own shits and giggles. Friendly pranks - unscrewing the tops of salt shakers or drawing on your mates with permanent marker while they slept, for example - he could handle. Pranks like this - if you could even call something like this a prank - skipped right over 'friendly', past 'appropriate', and right into 'cruel and unusual' territory.

"I HOPE YOUR 'CHUTE DOESN'T OPEN, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!!" Simon hollered into empty space, before being struck with the realisation that maybe Sebastian had been in league with the Australians after all, and they were all having a blast now before safely landing on some well-groomed airstrip somewhere while he plummeted to his possible death with only a package full of first-aid supplies to break his fall.

He was going to die, and it was all Seb's fault. He was going to die in a horrible, godforsaken country, and all he'd ever meant to do was lend a hand. He was going to -

His frantic thoughts were cut short when his parachute finally snagged in a tree on its way down, leaving Simon to dangle upside-down from the forest canopy. When he finally opened his eyes, he noticed that all of the supplies he had carried with him had dropped to ground, broke, and scattered.

There also weren't any mountains to speak of.

Great. Just fucking great.

"I'm going to kill you, Whingecombe! I'm going to tear out your eyes and shove them so far down your throat you'll be able to watch me kick your fucking ass!!" Simon shouted, and when he finally took a deep breath to refill his lungs, he listened intently for the sound of a satisfactorily Sebastian-sized splatter. Sebastian's death by gravity was just about the only thing that could make Simon feel better right about now. Until he thought better of it, past the anger and indignation, and actually started to feel slightly worried about the little shit.

"Sebastian?" he called out into the empty forest. The only reply he got was the sound of some birds and a very irritated squirrel scolding him for trespassing in its treehouse.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]effinredcross
2009-11-01 04:35 am UTC (link)
Sebastian knew the terrifying fall was coming, so he at least had the sense to clamp his lips together to prevent any comical screams from floating up to the plummeting Australians. Sharing a flat with Simon, he didn't particularly care if his mate heard him hollering. They'd watched horror films together, so things couldn't get any more embarrassing between them. But the Aussies had no business rightly snickering at his expense.

Sebastian was determined to provide not a sliver of ammunition.

It was a bit of a bitch, however, being whipped in the face with air currents and Simon's distant screams. He began to feel nagging pangs of worry when Simon didn't open his parachute, but then his mate finally went for it, and even though the backlash drove more distance between them as they glided towards the ground, at least Sebastian wouldn't be searching for a splattered Simon.

What was rather fortunate was that Seb didn't catch any of Simon's threats and curses. Would've destroyed all his concern, was what hearing that would've done. Somehow he managed to miss the thick of the trees, though whoever had plotted their jump was a fucking moron. Not a brain in sight at the fucking Red Cross.

He could feel a grudge forming against Kiwis. Simon would be the exception, naturally. Sebastian huffed, fighting to untangle himself from a mess of fabric and ropes. One of the Red Cross employees had yammered about folding up the chutes for some purpose or another, but with his new grudge, Seb just unlatched himself and started peering around the forest.

"Simon?" he yelled, crossing his arms momentarily as he took in the American landscape. All this nature could blow him. What he'd give for a trolley and a street sign. He didn't give two shits about the Australians, actually hoping they were blown upward into the plane engines like fucking birds. The Kiwi was all he was worried about. "Simon, you'd best not be dead, you fucking twit!"

As if Sebastian had any right to yell at his mate. Readjusting the pack on his back, he started walking in a direction Simon logically would've landed, eventually ending up by a busted aid pack after tripping on a fucking log and cutting a bloody gash across his forehead. He glanced up, smirking brilliantly as he spied his beloved flatmate, completely forgetting how his head was gushing vital fluids. "Oi! What's it you're doing up there?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-01 05:00 am UTC (link)
When Simon finally heard his mate's approach, he forgot all about his concern and decided to instead be infuriated some more. Ignoring his friend's gaping head wound, Simon responded to his question by making a concerted attempt at spitting on Sebastian's head.

"Having a fucking tea party, whatsit look like?" he snarled.

He tore off the goggles and whipped them at Sebastian, then began to struggle with the parachute harness. He stopped when it occurred to him that the thing was, in fact, the only thing standing between him and a fractured skull at the moment.

He hung around some more.

"Are you going to help me or are you just going to stand there, looking like the fucking daft idiot you are? Honestly!"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]effinredcross
2009-11-01 05:14 am UTC (link)
Ah, so the gentle, feather-soft drifting to Earth hadn't made Simon forget about being pushed from a moving plane. Sebastian gathered as much when his mate spat at him; the goggles were absolute overkill. Pulling off his own eyewear, Sebastian tossed them upwards, whacking Simon atop his head. Which was actually the lowest part of his body at the moment.

The soft "THWACK" made him snicker quietly. Really, it couldn't be helped.

"S'no reason to be rude," Sebastian insisted, curiously inspecting what he could see of Simon's parachute. He had a pocketknife to cut away what was snaring Simon, but the trouble would be keeping him from spilling brain all over the forest. Why couldn't an Aussie have landed in a fucking tree?

T'was good that Simon stopped squirming about. Sebastian's view was better this way. He might have continued smirking, but he was putting serious thought into his mate's rescue! Heart crossed and everything. "You're rather backwards with your approach, dear lovely. The distressed damsel is to be kind in order to be rescued. Honestly!"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-01 05:27 am UTC (link)
Had Simon possessed anything else to throw at the kid, he would have, but he doubted some mechanical pencils and pocket lint were going to get his message across.

"Actually, I changed my mind. You can fuck off. Go! Get eaten by dead things! I'll save my fucking self!"

And with that, Simon resumed awkwardly trying to get himself upright, looking very much like a Cirque du Soleil display gone horribly wrong. He managed to get hold of one of the cords he was hanging by and draw himself up into a horizontal position, which truly wasn't ideal but at least was better for his circulation than hanging completely upside-down.

"You know, they used to torture people this way?" Simon said, because apparently now was a great time for a history lesson. Just when he had nearly squirmed his way upright, one of the cords he was using to support himself decided to slip and he wound up back where he started, head perpendicular to the ground below.

"And the rescuer actually needs to do some rescuing to describe himself as such," he said, exasperated.

"I feel for your poor mother, I really do."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]effinredcross
2009-11-01 05:58 am UTC (link)
"Tossing people from planes with parachutes?" Sebastian offered, because even with Simon's message quite clear, he felt he owed it to his nature to be a bit of a prick. He knew unwillingly sky-diving was not some underground form of torture, but Simon looked rather amusing when he was miffed, and at the moment, the situation didn't seem dire enough to let that slide.

All the unattractive flailing was bothersome, in that it looked dangerous. That was punctuated firmly as a line snapped or twitched or what-the-fuck-ever, causing Simon to plummet an inch or so closer to his destruction. Seb glared.

"Alright, that'll be the end of this. Hold the fuck on," he grumbled, expressing a flash of inconvenience that masked his rather panicked worry for his friend. "I didn't steer you into the bloody tree, you two-bit tart. Now if you'd rather I rush up and cut about without thought so you fall atop your head, I shall. If not, you'd best shut your fucki− wha's this?"

The Australians had arrived, quite bloodier and lurchier than Seb remembered. With something of a shriek, he jumped to grab the first branch and quickly pulled himself up into the tree. "What did you do?!" he demanded of Simon's flailing form, moving up the next branch to be safe.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-01 06:14 am UTC (link)
Simon laughed despite his predicament when Sebastian quit yapping and shimmied up the tree looking as though he'd just seen something terrifying stumble out of the forest foliage. Amused as he was, he didn't look nearly as delighted when he saw that something terrifying actually had stumbled out of the forest.

"Fucking Australians!!" he shouted, aghast at the sight of their former dim-witted planemates staggering out towards them with arms outstretched, looking much gorier and even more dim-witted than he could remember them looking before the jump. At first, he wondered whether they might just have been injured by the fall. Then, he decided that if their previous sense of humour had been any indication, this was all probably just the latest in a long history of hoaxes meant to make both the Kiwi and the Brit look foolish.

"I don't think pissing your pants is going to win them over," he said, smirking in Sebastian's general direction now that he was nearly at eye-level. "Don't you see? They're just being enormous twats yet again."

Simon cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted down at the newly-zombiefied Aussies, who appeared to be quite keen on the prospect of clawing their way into the dangling Kiwi pinata chock full of brainy goodness.

"Oi! It'll take more than that to scare us! Go on, why not throw some more shrimp on the barbie, why dontcha?"

He pulled out one of the mechanical pencils still clinging to his pants pocket and threw it like a dart at the nearest lunging Australian. When it hit the lumbering man right in the pupil and stuck there, the Aussie didn't so much as twitch or swear in an annoying accent - it was at that point that Simon realised there was something odd about this situation.

"What did you do?!" he snapped at Sebastian, resuming his frantic attempts to free himself when the man's hand just barely missed pulling out a fistful of Simon's dangling hair.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]effinredcross
2009-11-01 06:49 am UTC (link)
Sebastian wasn't as secure in this idea of the Aussies pulling another one over on them. They were a dim lot, half a brain between the pair, and orchestrating something so elaborate seemed a rather far leap. Simon's smirk kept him from pointing any of this out. Smug upside-down bastard. If he could've reached without falling from the tree, Seb would've swatted Simon's fucking skull.

With a shake of his head, Sebastian hugged the tree and shimmied his way to the opposite branch, staying a full trunk away from Simon's dangling form. He was having no part in the antagonizing of Aussie-Monsters. No fucking part in it.

"Enormous twats, eh? Right, you blathering moron. They're just having us on!" he grumbled, still clinging to his side of the tree as he looked for another branch to climb atop.

Sebastian had the misfortune of looking down at their drooling wanker planemates just as Simon dropped his pencil into the viscous goo of an eyeball. "OH! Simon, what the bloody fuck?! WHO THROWS PENCIL DARTS?! If this was a joke, WHAT THEN?" Sebastian gestured wildly at the Aussies, then realized how close one had come to grabbing Simon.

"YOU MADE THEM HUNGRY, YOU FESTERING COCK!" he shouted, shimmying back to Simon in order to free him without tossing him from the tree to his death. Joking aside, Sebastian quite enjoyed Simon when he wasn't after his spongy brain candies. Seb wanted things to stay as such. "Hold fucking still!" Sebastian demanded of his friend, cutting at the parachute quickly and carefully to free the man safely.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-02 12:42 am UTC (link)
"Me?! How was I supposed to know that being fucking... blinded was going to float their boats so fucking much?" Simon yelled right back at his friend; he tried in vain to obey Sebastian's orders to stay still, but as the bigger Aussie made another flying grab for Simon's head yet again, he instinctively swung himself in the opposite direction.

"OhmyfuckinggodSebastian... " he stammered, as this sudden movement resulted in one part of the parachute tearing, thereby bringing him a few more inches towards sudden death.

"Sebastian! I don't want to die, Sebastian! I don't want to be a zombie!" Simon pleaded. When Sebastian finally managed to free him from the tangles of his parachute, he clambered onto the branch alongside his friend and clung to him for dear life, squeezing him so tightly that he might have impaired breathing.

"Thank-you, thank-you... I'm sorry I said I was going to tear your eyes out," he apologised, giving his rescuer a peck on the cheek. Upon coming to his senses, however, he resumed his manly scowling and scooted over a respectable distance.

"The manual said that it we come across any of... these... we're to remove the head or destroy the brain." Simon said matter-of-factly. "That might be d-d-difficult, considering they didn't have much in the way of brains to begin with."

He looked down at the aimlessly circling Zaustralians, while patting his coat pockets looking for something to throw at them or defend themselves with. Simon turned to his best mate, looking worried when he'd come up with nothing.

"How are you at h-hand to hand combat?" he asked him, dead serious.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]effinredcross
2009-11-02 02:43 am UTC (link)
"You'd likely die on impact," Sebastian reassured his mate, years of British stoicism and boarding school scolding allowing for this to be delivered without a hint of emotion. As if Simon was to be comforted by this notion of landing on his head rather than turning zombie. Sometimes it was very apparent that Seb hailed from the land of the stiff upper lip.

Very, very fucking apparent.

He did understand why Simon's pleas were growing in desperation. Not that he'd snicker and say he told Simon so, but had Sebastian not just advised against flailing? He continued working, rather relieved when the last snagged rope was cut and Simon managed to safely wrap him in a girly embrace, not even attempting to tackle Seb from the tree in the name of revenge.

Not that he'd ever admit to clinging back. Too much fucking testosterone to grab hold of his mate like a security blanket. As proof, Seb sneered when Simon jumped away, then puffed his chest a bit and cleared his throat to the point of nearly choking on his own spit. There. Short of tossing a punch, Sebastian was as fucking manly as can be. Until Simon mentioned a manual.

"You're to say we truly needed to read that?" he asked, a fraction worried, as he'd simply used his copy to hold down papers and receipts and the like. They'd promised there wouldn't be an exam, so Sebastian never bothered cracking the covers! He groaned. "I'm not going down there, wanker," he grumbled, peering down for a moment before thinking better of it.

"Can't you throw a sandwich at them? Distract them for a stretch? Promise them it's bloody shrimp and we'll make our escape."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-02 03:15 am UTC (link)
Simon sighed, like an impatient teacher explaining an easy math problem to an inattentive child.

"Of course you were supposed to read it! W-w-what did you think it was for - making paper planes? Oh god, you d-didn't make paper planes out of the manual, did you?" Simon complained. In his mind, this was a perfectly acceptable time to criticise Sebastian's study habits. One of the Aussies decided to take this opportunity to try to learn how to climb the tree. If he'd been French, Simon might not have worried, but Simon was pretty sure he'd seen Australians climb a thing or two in his day.

"A s-sandwich? A s-s-s-sandwich?! Who in their right mind has a bloody sandwich?!!" Simon shouted at his mate, incredulous. Despite this, he patted his coat pockets yet again, wondering if he did, in fact, have a sandwich.

He did not. He did, however, find a small bottle of scotch he'd been saving in his jacket pocket.

"I was going to s-s-save this for a congratulatory drink on your first R-red Cross mission, but perhaps we might be better off using it for something else." he said, trying to remember what his manual had said about setting zombies on fire. Oh, right - don't do it. He was quite sure whoever wrote the book had never been treed by a pair of Aussie zombies before, however.

He pulled out a handkerchief and a lighter, then looked to Seb.

"D-d-do we risk it, or should we just drink up so that having our b-brains eaten will hurt less?" Simon asked him.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]effinredcross
2009-11-02 03:40 am UTC (link)
There was no reason to respond to Simon's accusations. He could be a good little boy, but Sebastian had been otherwise occupied, more likely than not. Reading a stupid manual full of irrelevant informational suggestions hadn't interested him. How was he to know all those awful warnings about zombies were true? New Zealand prepared them for absolutely nothing, the shits.

It came as no surprise when Simon continue onward to criticise more of what he had to say. Honestly, you'd think all Sebastian did was toss out verbal Pollock paintings. "Wouldn't sound so fucking horrified if the manual suggested packing a sandwich," Sebastian retorted, leveling Simon with a glare before he edged over a bit, feeling uncomfortable watching the Aussie swing up a few inches closer.

Now was the time to consider plans. Sebastian didn't have any sliced meat to toss as bait, and if Simon's disbelief was any indication, he didn't either. Spying Simon's scattered supplies on the ground below, Seb was struck with the brilliant idea of, shock, checking his pack for useful items.

"Like hell I'm wasting good scotch," he grumbled, swinging his pack to his front so he could riffle through the supplies. With a grand "Ah-ha!" and a violent kick to drop the zombie back out of the tree where it belonged, Sebastian uncapped a bottle of rubbing alcohol and aimed the spills to drench each of the Aussies.

"We'll be needing the lighter, mate," he said, striking a match instead. Seemed a rather unwise idea, setting zombies alight in a wooded area, but he intended to run away as quick as manageable, so what did he care if he burned a forest down? His life was rather important, yeah? More than a squirrel's, anyway. "Here. You can light the other one," Sebastian amiably offered, handing Simon the book of matches.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-02 03:58 am UTC (link)
Simon meekly accepted the book of matches, tossing a worried glance from the pack to Sebastian then back again. He didn't particularly want to burn down an entire forest - he was a strong proponent of conservationism in his country and abroad - but this was a life-of-death situation, and he supposed there was nothing else to do but light a match and hope for the best.

He looked up at the sky, hoping it looked like rain. It didn't particularly, but what the hell. He checked the direction of the sun before lighting a match and whipping it at the alcohol-soaked zombies.

"Cheers, mate." Simon said, grinning in Sebastian's direction as the Aussies combusted in a towering flame. He leaped from the tree just as the burning corpse staggered blindly into it.

"C'mon, we gotta head due East." Simon urged his friend, tugging at his sleeve as he sprinted onwards, not daring to look back.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]effinredcross
2009-11-02 04:33 am UTC (link)
There weren't very many times when Simon made it clear that, at his core, he was a devilish young boy just like the lot of them male creatures, but when he turned to Seb and grinned after starting an Aussie roast, Sebastian was proud to share a gender with the bloke. He beamed right back, all sneers and glares cast aside, before dramatically dropping his match like an elegant diver in the Olympics.

He certainly earned high marks, even from the rotten Russian judge with the painful hairstyle and a broken vibrator.

Though there were all sorts of karmic points being deducted as a result, Sebastian snickered as that sniveling bastard of an Aussie went up in an eruption of flailing, fiery limbs. Seb was pleased with himself, not for a moment worrying about killing another human being. Read into that conclusion about Aussies what you will.

With Simon's shift from grinning to urgent tugging, Sebastian righted his pack and hopped from the tree, not needing further prompting to start running in line with Simon. "What's so grand about the east, eh?" Seb was not convinced they were going in the right direction.

Then again, running away from the burning Aussies did seem rather astute.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-02 04:52 am UTC (link)
Simon glanced over at Sebastian as he ran, raising an eyebrow. "I'm g-g-guessing you didn't read the maps either, yeah?" he observed, though less accusingly than he might have done had their lives not been in danger only seconds earlier. His expression cracked into a genuine smile, pleased that at least the both of them had made it out of there alive. Bastard as he was, Sebastian was his bastard. He doubted he'd be able to find another one in America that he liked even half as much. Killing murderous Aussies just wouldn't be the same without his mate.

"If we only take a few quick r-r.... r-rests and avoid any further interruptions, we'll make it to Middleton by sundown. From there, we can get a ve... automotive of some sort, perhaps replace some of the supplies we... er, left behind back there." he said, taking the opportunity to try to get them back on schedule. They had Americans to rescue, and Simon would be damned if he let a few flaming Aussies stand in his way.

"Perhaps they have s-s-sandwiches," Simon added, punching Sebastian in the arm, as though food would make a hick town more enticing to his college-aged friend.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]effinredcross
2009-11-02 05:10 am UTC (link)
"Maps are for the lazy!" Sebastian cheerfully expressed. He had no idea where Middleton was, nor did he care to ask. Unless it boasted a population of topless women with loose morals, he was strictly concerned with finding a bed to sleep in for the night. Two beds, if they were lucky. If not, the pair of them had gotten rather cosy on a few drunken instances. He was not ashamed, if only because his body knew better than to wake up with morning wood on such occasions.

"And shall we get matters straight, yeah? The supplies were lit on fire, not strictly left behind." With that Sebastian grinned, for some odd reason rather proud of their flaming bandage rolls. So far, the American problem seemed beyond the aid of a simple gauze wrap. Even if their kits weren't entirely full, Sebastian did not think much of an impact would be made.

"Now, before we head to Middleton, I'd quite like to have a slash. All this excitement has constricted my bladder, mate." Grin to smirk, all smug and awaiting Simon's look of disgusted disapproval.

Who said the zombie apocalypse couldn't be fun?

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-02 05:25 am UTC (link)
"Right. W-we'll explain that to the survivors when we get there. They-they'll appreciate that." Simon smirked, still too high on adrenaline to be thinking about sleeping. His thoughts were already skipping right over that little detail and onward onto the days to come. In his mind, they'd reach Snyderville in no time at all. It was great to be on assignment again; missions were what this particular Kiwi did best.

Simon returned Sebastian's expectant look not with disgust, but with a shrug and a 'why not?' expression.

"You should've pissed on the Aussies. They deserved that." he said with a grin. They were two dudes in the middle of fucking nowhere. The world was their urinal.

"How 'bout some of that s-s-scotch, mate?"

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[info]effinredcross
2009-11-02 05:38 am UTC (link)
"Saying they were left behind makes us appear irresponsible," Sebastian insisted. It almost made sense, too, almost appeared to be a logical argument. Who would've guessed Seb was, as always, pulling this straight from his glorious English ass?

Well, Simon, for one, but since when did Seb count him?

The man disappointed with his shrug, and it was only after a moment's thought that Seb reconsidered giving his mate a kick to the shins. Should've looked disenfranchised, is what Simon should've done. Bastard.

"Would you have whipped it out as the Aussies snapped their jaws at us?" Sebastian posited, eyebrows perched quizzically atop his forehead. He felt rather certain his point had been made, taking the pause of silence to find a shrub to water. Back to Simon, he could only hope his mate wasn't snapping photos on his mobile or scurrying off to abandon him in the forest.

"Brilliant timing. I'm primed and ready for fresh fluids now," he chortled, shaking and tucking things back into place. "This had best not be the last drops of alcohol on the globe."

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[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-02 05:53 am UTC (link)
Simon gave Sebastian a stern look as he handed the bottle over. "Only a s-sip or two, all right? We've still got to watch out for w-w-whatever else is out here," he warned, then gave him the scotch despite knowing that Sebastian was unlikely to listen to him anyways.

"We're in America. If we r-run out of liquor, all we have to do is swing by the nearest store for booze and g-g-guns." Simon said. Frowning at Sebastian, he reached over to snatch the bottle away from him again. As he did this, his expression finally did change to one of disenfranchisement as a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"The Aussies had our guns," he noted gloomily, pausing in mid-stride. Aside from setting the woods on fire, perhaps setting their only weapons aflame had not been in their best interests either.

"Perhaps we should... find some really b-big rocks to throw. Just in case."

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[info]effinredcross
2009-11-02 07:50 pm UTC (link)
"Uh huh. Sure," he promised Simon, doing his best to appear genuine and sincere. Simon probably knew better, after all this time together. He was barely into his second sip when the bottle was yanked away, so it didn't matter anyway. Simon was just too smart for him.

Or the man knew Sebastian too well. Probably a combination of the two.

"Booze, guns, and porn, I hope," Seb said, before Simon's concerned observation filtered through his ears. He grimaced, realising the gravity of this new discovery. Behind them, Sebastian was now convinced he could hear the popping of a gun lit on fire, shooting bullets off at squirrels and bunnies alike.

"Why didn't the bloody manual warn against giving the Aussies the guns? T'was rather apparent, if any of us would go zombie, it would be those morons. Probably dangled their fingers in the face of a cannibal, that lot." Sebastian groaned unhappily. "How long are we walking in an easterly direction before we reach some primitive American civilisation? Rocks will only carry us towards survival for so long, mate."

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[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-03 02:45 am UTC (link)
"The manual didn't d-d-deal with Aussies!" Simon said defensively. "Besides, I f-figured that if we c-c-crash landed, it would be better if the-they were the ones with the explosives on 'em, not us."

There was more commotion in the distance as more innocent woodland bystanders were caught in the crossfire. Simon winced.

"S'gonna be about t-t-two? Maybe th-three more hours?" Simon told Sebastian reluctantly, looking at him as though he expected to be punched in the teeth for this admission. It was then that he noticed his mate was injured.

"S-Sebastian! Your face!" Simon roughly pushed Sebastian's hair away from the gash to get a better look at it, his face concerned. He shoved his friend towards a nearby log to sit down.

"We'll have to deal with this s-straightaway," he said decisively. "Give me what supplies you have."

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[info]effinredcross
2009-11-03 03:50 am UTC (link)
"Manual's a useless piece of shit, is what it is," Seb mumbled, not at all focused on how he hadn't so much as read the back cover blurb. He could draw conclusions wherever he liked. Who was going to stop him? It did bring a smile to his face, imagining a crash landing scenario where the Aussies hugging the explosives just combusted on impact, while he and the Kiwi snickered a safe distance away.

The real scenario was rather comical. Their landing was probably safer as well.

Sebastian might've attended rather snobby academies growing up, but he was a rather dedicated footballer, and as such, he was fairly certain he could endure a few hours of walking. That wasn't the issue. He quite disliked the idea of being weaponless for that grand stretch of time. Seb shrugged. "Eh. That's not too ba−MATE! Wha'this?!" Sebastian began swatting at Simon defensively, not keen on having Simon's fingers playing in his skull.

"You are poking me!" he exclaimed, still swatting as he was guided towards a log. If Seb really wanted to, he could've broken free, but hurting Simon was rarely on his list of tasks. "Oh, I rather clearly remember the splints, you raging arse. You'll not be getting my supplies." Sebastian refused to be lowered into a sitting position.

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[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-03 04:21 am UTC (link)
Simon frowned as Sebastian protested. "Splints? S-s-splints? Are you still on about that? I gave you some fucking pudding after, didn't I?" he said, indignant that his friend still hadn't forgiven him for using him as a first aid test subject.

"If you're not going to s... to s... to sit, at least stand still. If you don't let me d-d-do something about that, your face is going to get gangrene and f-f-f-fucking... fall off!" Simon snapped. Ignoring Sebastian's refusal to let him have his remaining supplies, he went around his back to take them for himself. He pulled out a bottle of spring water and some gauze, then set to rinsing whatever dirt he could out of his friend's head wound. Occasionally, he blotted at it gently with a bit of clean gauze, determined not to give Seb any more reason to accuse him of poking him.

"It's not so bad once you rinse all of the b-b-b-blood out of the way." Simon said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, then finished bandaging him up.

"Now, drink some more scotch and stop complaining - you can have another s... another sip if you shut your trap." he said sweetly, then continued on with his search for rocks. Maybe even some pointy sticks, if he could find any.

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[info]effinredcross
2009-11-03 04:57 am UTC (link)
"I do not take pudding as a cure-all after you splint all my limbs and then wander off to fill your stomach. What if the Aussies had done something during your leave?" he paused, then snickered despite himself. "Lit the place on fire, say?" More snickers. He stopped swatting.

"And my face isn't likely to fall off, Simon. You're being rather dramatic. At most, you'll need to skin a portion of my face." Despite this belief, Sebastian did not spin around in order to keep Simon away from his pack and his supplies. He could've, but he didn't. Unlike all those first aid practise sessions, Simon was actually dabbing gently and caring for Sebastian's sensitive nerve endings, so he found no reason to complain.

Little did he know Simon was actively working to avoid just that. Bastard. And here Sebastian was, thinking his mate had obtained the soothing touch.

If his wound was serious, there was a good chance Sebastian would've been bitching this entire time, but at the offer of more scotch, he groaned pitifully. "Perhaps two sips?" he asked, sighing dramatically as he gingerly touched along the gauze bandage. The wrap around his head was rather ridiculous, but it likely added to his pathetic appearance.

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[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-03 05:46 am UTC (link)
Simon rolled his eyes at Sebastian's melodramatics and sighed. Despite the fact that he knew he knew better, it was still hard to say no to that face. Sebastian was about as pathetic as a three-legged dog begging for table scraps.

"Fuck! You're going to be the d-death of us both, you know!" Simon relented finally, giving him the alcohol and not even bothering to take it back this time.

"At least if zombies chase us, I'll be able to out - to outrun you. If you're w-w-wasted, I mean. Just don't get drunk, okay?"

He might have twitched a little as Sebastian prodded at the gauze.

"Don't touch it!" he said, swatting his hand away before his mate cause more damage to himself. Simon shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand and peered on up ahead as they walked.

"Looks like there's a road up ahead. I wonder if anyone's still alive to hitch a ride from." he said, nose wrinkling. "Somehow I d-d-doubt it."

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[info]effinredcross
2009-11-03 08:07 pm UTC (link)
See, Sebastian was nearly positive the only reason he hadn't been beaten to death thus far was because he could pull a good pathetic face. Something about his eyes, he'd wager. His father was the only bastard who'd come close, but his mum had walked in during the go at accidental drowning in the bath, and Sebastian had been saved. Dear Basil still denied this attempt on his life, but even at the tender age of four, Seb had known better.

His devastating look of the forlorn was cast aside when Simon surrendered the tiny bottle, and Sebastian was kind enough to leave some for his mate. Rather generous when he got his way, that Sebastian.

"M'not pissed, Simon. We'll both be living horribly long lives, zombies or no." Seb could all but picture it, arguing with violent cane whacks and crackly, dry elderly voices. Yes, they would certainly need to stay alive to be old and miserable together. His reverie was interrupted as Simon shouted at him, practice for their shared future of unhappy crustiness. He rolled his eyes, but found himself smiling a moment later.

"You mustn't worry, mate. We'll make it wherever we were meant to go. You recall the name, yeah?" Because Seb didn't. The mission briefing had been a rather dull read, if he could say as much. If Simon squawked about this as well, Seb was ready to blame it on the Aussies.

Wasn't like they could defend themselves.

Dropping his hand obediently from his bandaged cranium, Sebastian shielded his eyes to peer wherever Simon was peering. "I was thinking we'd just steal an abandoned automobile."

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[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-03 09:27 pm UTC (link)
When Sebastian returned the tiny bottle to him, Simon figured to hell with it and polished it off. Grumpily, he tossed the bottle aside once he had finished with it, though within moments he was feeling a bit cheerier and more ready to enjoy Sebastian's particular brand of company.

He couldn't help but to grin a little at the thought of the both of them old and threatening to smother one another with their pillows over their morning oatmeal.

Simon took Sebastian's as a rhetorical one meant to encourage rather than another admission of ignorance.

"Y-yes, I do. The people of S-Snyderville are depending on us to bring them aid." Simon asserted in a determined sort of tone. As they reached the road, Simon looked at his companion curiously, raising his eyebrows.

"You know how to st... steal a car?" he said, actually sounding quite impressed by this. Perhaps his mate had some useful skills after all.

"I read how to... how to hotwire a car once, but I couldn't possibly... Hey! Is that a car over there?"

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[info]effinredcross
2009-11-04 01:51 am UTC (link)
"Are you paraphrasing? Did the manual actually say that about this Snyderville location?" Sebastian asked, feeling pleasantly warmed by the scotch, but nothing beyond that. He wouldn't be wandering up to any undead bastards to ask for directions. Though what a way to go if he did. Seb would give Simon full rights to use the tale to pick up chicks, if ever it came to that. "I've heard wonderful things about a place called Las Vegas. The net said they're in desperate need of aid. Or...that they all have AIDS. I forget which."

T'was a lost cause. Simon looked rather determined, and whenever this happened, rare as the occurrences were, even Sebastian's skilled bullshitting couldn't persuade the man elsewhere. He soldiered on all the same.

The glimmer of surprise was enough to make Sebastian grin. What Brit didn't thoroughly enjoy talking about themselves? Never let the glowering expressions say otherwise. "Delinquent, recall?"

Being proud of a devilish past was in his character, just as pride in his pure roots likely brought a muscle twitch in the mouth region to Papa Winchcombe's emotionless face. "Now, where did you come across literature on hotwiring?" Sebastian resisted against commenting on Simon's last statement, feeling it was far too simple to mock the man for asking if a car was, indeed, a car.

If he was to hear the tale of Simon and hotwiring, Seb knew he needed to behave for the next minute or so.

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[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-04 02:54 am UTC (link)
"I think it's both," Simon replied, referring to Vegas. "It's probably better that Nichols grabbed that assignment before we did." He could picture it now - hordes of undead hookers prowling the streets looking for a good time. Or maybe the amount of STDs they already had somehow gave them superhuman immunity to zombiedom, who knew? Either way, Simon was sure that if he was barely able to keep his mate in check as it was, he certainly wouldn't be able to keep him out of trouble in somewhere like Vegas. They were probably better off out here in the middle of nowhere without all the temptations.

"Right, I don't know how I'd f-f-forgotten you're the king of delinquency." Simon said, audaciously giving Sebastian's hair a ruffle.

He explained that particular area of knowledge away with a shrug. "Just read it. Somewhere." Simon said vaguely, as if there really wasn't anything more to it than that.

When they'd finally arrived at the parked car, Simon stepped aside and gestured Sebastian towards the driver's seat.

"Go on, teach me something!" he said, curious to see how his mate planned on committing his first Grand Theft Auto on American soil.

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[info]effinredcross
2009-11-04 03:40 am UTC (link)
"Grabbed? As in he had a choice?" Sebastian asked, suspicious to a certain extent, but that was minute and fleeting. "Simon, did you pick this place for us?" He wouldn't put it past his friend, but as of yet, Sebastian hadn't found cause to be angered. He pursed his lips for a moment and that was that.

To say Seb beamed when Simon acknowledged his chequered past was an understatement if ever there was one. Had Simon called him a drunken reprobate, his delight may have indefinitely brightened the world. "As your king, I'd expect details of your own devious behaviour. Bastard."

Clammed up, that Simon. Sebastian tousled his mate's hair in return, not that he'd ever be able to tell the difference, and then he approached the car.

What made him smirk happened to be a dangling chain of keys already inserted in the ignition. "A-Hem!" Throat cleared dramatically, Sebastian did a bit of hand waving before pulling open the driver's door. "Prepare to be amazed, mate." Seb slid in, and after wiggling his eyebrows at his friend, started the engine with a simple turn of the keys.

"You're the navigator. Get in!"

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[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-04 04:24 am UTC (link)
Simon opted not to tell Sebastian that they were here by his choice upon hearing his friend's incredulous tone. He was more than a little relieved when Sebastian simply dropped the subject.

He was, however, delighted by his mate's apparent delight. Who knew accusing someone of debauchery would light up their face so much?

Simon grinned when Sebastian started the car, no hot-wiring literature necessary. "You're a genius," he said, for what was the first and likely only time. He hurried around the front of the car and into the passenger's seat, trying to ignore the fact that it was on the wrong side.

He leaned back in the seat, putting it as far back as it would go and propped his feet up on the dash.

"Ahem. Seatbelts, hmm?" Simon said, buckling his own before they headed off. As he bumped the glove box by mistake, it popped open and he leaned forward to see what was inside.

"Hey, look - a gun!" Simon declared happily, taking the weapon out and showing it to Sebastian, not really caring that he might be distracting his friend from the road.

At that point, something decided to start banging in what sounded like the trunk. Simon looked to Sebastian.

"What did you do?"

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[info]effinredcross
2009-11-04 04:46 am UTC (link)
Sebastian puffed with pride. Hear that, Pop? Simon thought he was a bloody genius. It didn't dawn on him that this was a singular event, a blip in their history that would likely cause confusion for years to come. Nobody would believe him. But Seb cared not. He was chipper in the driver's seat, somehow able to ignore that everything was horizontally flipped.

What was the worst that could happen? Wasn't like the road was packed.

"If we get in an accident, you'll break your legs like that," Seb informed his mate, commenting on his choice of lounging positions. He'd seen it on some television programme. Truly gruesome.

They hadn't made it far down the left lane of the road when Simon squealed cheerfully about a gun, and it was rather soon after that distraction that some disconcerting pounding sounds drifted from behind them. Sebastian frowned, then slammed unceremoniously on the brakes when he was blamed for the sound.

"Me?!" he demanded, pounding a hand against the wheel. In his excitement, he even let his foot off the brake, and they rolled a few feet before he stomped down once more. It should be noted that Simon had never actually asked if he was a good driver. "You picked this fucking car!" The car with a rather impressive gun packed away in the glove box and a howling thing in the boot. "You should investigate. I'm the driver."

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[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-04 05:14 am UTC (link)
Simon nearly shot a rather impressive bullet right through the windshield when Sebastian braked suddenly; fortunately, he had not been holding the trigger correctly. He'd been distracted by the joy of shooting things while he was supposed to have been listening to lessons on gun safety, and so didn't really think about such things as he brandished the firearm in the air.

"Yeah, well I'm the n... the n... the navigator!" Simon protested ineffectively. The thing in the trunk also protested, with more loud thumps and something that sounded suspiciously like wailing.

"I'd say I'd flip you for it, but knowing you, you'd probably drive away and leave me here," Simon said, as he got out of the car anyways and walked towards the boot. Simon examined his newfound handgun, trying to ascertain if it was loaded before firing a practice shot at a nearby deer crossing sign. He was startled when the thing actually worked.

Ah well, he supposed Sebastian probably was right... for once. He'd picked the fucking car. It was therefore his fucking bootmonster to deal with. He stood a few feet behind the car with the gun raised, taking a deep breath before calling to Sebastian:

"All right. You can p... p... pop the boot then, will you?"

When the trunk popped open and what used to be a well-dressed Italian clawed its way out with an unearthly howl, Simon completely forgot about anything he'd read in the manual and with a long stream of stuttered cuss words, promptly put three bullets in its face.

Once he'd opened his eyes again, he quickly hurried back to his seat in the car without checking out the results of his gunslinging and shut the door behind him.

"I shot the fucking guy, now you clean it out." Simon said, too shaken for witty banter. He silently stared at the road ahead for a moment, contemplative.

"He was a zombie, wasn't he?" he asked finally, turning to Sebastian for confirmation.

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[info]effinredcross
2009-11-04 05:51 am UTC (link)
The Aussies hadn't left them much choice. The bastards had deserved to be burned since the four of them boarded the aeroplane, so Aussie!Hate had overshadowed the disgust and horror of seeing zombies. With the aggravated moans coming from the boot, there was little chance the thing locked up wasn't after their brains. In his own way, Sebastian truly was terrified for his mate.

He lifted the appropriate lever when Simon yelled for him to, then cut the car's engine so he could leave the vehicle quickly. Sitting there, idly watching through a sideview mirror seemed woefully irresponsible. What if Simon needed his quick intervention to stay alive? Seb was out and facing the horrific scene within moments.

With all the stuttering and cursing and shooting going on, Sebastian almost missed the gurgling groans bubbling from the bootmonster's bloody mouth. Almost, but not quite. He cringed, longing for the satisfying crackling of roasting Aussies. When Simon bolted back to the car, Sebastian instinctively followed, some part of him viewing his mate as the older, wiser one. He was the leader in times of trouble.

Seb would deny ever thinking that, so don't try to pass on the message.

When Simon hollered at him, Sebastian forgot that he was the brilliant leader, saviour of the day with his shooting skills. His mate was back to being a raving loon. "What?!" Clean it up? Sebastian nearly gagged.

Simon did have a point, though. He had shot the thing. Frowning deeply, he glanced at Simon, then went to grab at his pack. He noticed a heavy wooden bat first, arched an eyebrow, then grabbed it. A weapon, in case three shots to the brain wasn't sufficient.

Hesitating the entire way, Sebastian rounded the boot bat-first, then grimaced. There wasn't much head left, which he supposed was a good thing. Using the bat aggressively, Seb managed to shove the body out onto the road, then slammed shut the boot and scurried back into the car. "Definitely a zombie. Christ...you get to clean up the next mess."

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[info]niftyfifties
2009-11-04 06:08 am UTC (link)
Simon almost felt bad when Sebastian frowned at him, nearly falling victim to the puppydog eyes yet again. Had it been anything other than prying rotting corpses out of the trunk, Simon might have relented and done it himself. The thought of steaming piles of headgoop managed to override his weakness for poutyfaces this time around, however.

He heaved a sigh of relief when Sebastian returned, unharmed aside from maybe his appetite.

"I'll c-c-clean up the next mess if you shoot the next zombie. Deal?" Simon said, giving his mate a feeble smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"When we get to Middleton, I'm going to make you the biggest batch of pudding you've ever seen." he added, ignoring Sebastian's previous assertions that pudding was not, in fact, a cure-all for whenever he'd done something cruel to his roommate.

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