http://myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] tvklogs2011-10-11 12:24 am

You're Fine for a While, but You Start to Lose Control

Who: Klaus and Ingrid
What: Klaus fights zombies and Ingrid disapproves for various reasons.
Where: The streets of Prospero
When: October 10th, the Dark Hour
Rating: PG-13 for gore. But. It's zombies. What did you expect?

It's been nearly two months, and Klaus can no longer hide out with the excuse that he's 'working on his lab'. Of course, he's regretting the decision somewhat now. His makeshift lab may be sub-par, but at least it isn't full of zombies.

He's seen these before. He fought them back in Europa, where they were called revenants and were the last lingering traces of the horrible devastation visited upon his country by the Other. He's used to seeing half-dead creatures swarming the streets, brainless monsters who once were people. Honestly, it's almost refreshing, a small part of home in this place so very foreign to him.

It helps that these revenants are much more advanced than the ones he'd fought previously: they're fast, coordinated, strong. They provide an excellent outlet for all of the frustration he's been building up. He can analyze their movements as a fresh adversary, adjust his fighting style; in short, he can think about something other than Prospero and Personas and how his Spark has been stunted since coming here, so much so that it took him over two weeks to finish the makeshift electrical sword he's wielding. That would have normally taken him perhaps only two or three days with the same wildly sub-standard materials, even factoring in the distractions of ruling a country. It's ridiculous. It makes him angry.

And when a Spark gets angry, especially a Spark as strong as the Baron, Tyrant of Europa, things tend to get brutally eviscerated and/or electrocuted. He may not be able to fully access his Madness, but his Madness was always several tiers above everyone else's anyway, and the result is still terrifying. He's stubbornly refusing to allow his Persona in on the fray. He's fought worse than this alone and survived. He doesn't need some strange apparition from out of his own head relegating him to the position of backup.

Of course, that means that he's being steadily forced back into a corner by the steady onslaught of zombies. He's having to sacrifice finesse for simply slashing as wide a swathe as he can and hoping the electrical runoff gets the few may have missed -- namely, the ones perhaps a little smaller in stature than their peers. Damn child zombies. They were a problem back in Europa too. How are you supposed to hit something half your height? Ugh.

[identity profile] crazyoldbat.livejournal.com 2011-10-11 05:00 am (UTC)(link)
Ingrid has seen a lot of shit in her life. She'd had the hard life of being abnormal, living through the eras of love and drugs, watched good men walk off into Vietnam and come back scarred if they even came back at all. She'd seen one Civil Rights movement flow into the next as separate but equal turned into a barely held level of fear at what these unnaturals could become. She knew what some meta humans could do, had watched children's powers get out of control and cause them pain, and had heard other meta's stories of accidental deaths and broken homes. Ingrid had thought she knew the worst that was out there. But this took everything she knew and turned it on its head.

Zombies were things she'd only encountered through badly made b-movies and her student's illusion powers. For them to be real, here in front of her, shook the usual airs of confidence away and left the woman dumbstruck. She barely dodged the undead's attacks, trying to keep close to the building sides as she made a beeline back to the Hotel. And where she would normally be drawing her gun at every movement in the Dark Hour, she now was halting. Her hands are shaking.

Ingrid had no qualms with fighting other living creatures. She'd done her share of terrible things in order to keep herself and her family safe. But these unholy creatures weren't dangerous men. They were innocent. And amongst them were children. One look into one of the small zombie's faces and she felt bile rise in her throat.

She caught sight of something light up from around a corner and ran for it. The second she saw the wielder of the strangely luminescence weapon she called out, voice strangled and off-pitch. "Klaus! Dear god, Klaus."

[identity profile] crazyoldbat.livejournal.com 2011-10-13 03:16 am (UTC)(link)
Her hand twitched on her gun at his tone, but she didn't raise it. She was too busy staring, horrified, at the way the creature he had hit fell. She made a small, choked sort of noise.

"Klaus," Ingrid started, taking back up her path of dodging hits. "They're children."

The statement was a question and a plea rolled up in something strangled with emotion. She looked back up to his face, eyes conflicted and looking for something. A sign of what she, someone who had based her life around caring for other people's children, was supposed to do in this situation.

"We can't."

[identity profile] crazyoldbat.livejournal.com 2011-10-15 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
"And so you will kill them?" Ingrid shouted, face reddening with the onset of fury. She whipped out her arm to defend herself from an attack, careful to not cause the creature to much damage. "You think. This isn't they're doing. How is it fair, right, for us to kill them?"

She would have continued with her moral rant if not for seeing the zombie that had latched itself to Klaus. Her face went from cherry to frightfully pale. She raised an arm, looking for a moment like she was indeed about to use her weapon. "My god. That boy's a student."

Her voice raised again, this time more fear filled than angry. "Klaus, I know that child. You can't hurt him."

[identity profile] crazyoldbat.livejournal.com 2011-10-15 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
A gargled, horrified sound caught in her throat. Her face paled further, eyes bulging, mouth moving in silent statements. She looked more like a wrinkled fish than the strong woman she tried to present herself to be.

"You." Ingrid shook her head, closing and reopening her eyes as though it would get rid of the picture in front of her. Her voice was low, strained. "You killed him. YOU KILLED HIM. You bastard."

She raised the gun, other arm pushing away a zombie with a thud. She paused to look at it, turning back to Klaus with eyes blazing. "Like hell will I fight beside you." She swallowed, back straightening. She pistol whipped another creature."Like hell do I need your protection."

[identity profile] crazyoldbat.livejournal.com 2011-10-15 06:23 am (UTC)(link)
She snarled at him, glancing around herself with anger and uncertainty. Kicking away another zombie, she cursed violently and forced herself into the fray surrounding him. Ingrid would like nothing more than to deck Klaus at this moment but, as much as it would pain her to admit it and you had better believe she never would aloud, he was somewhat right. They were going to have to fight these things off in order to make it back alive. That didn't mean she had to like it. That didn't mean she still shook instead of shooting those children. At least the adults, what of them were there, she could handle.

Finally unloading lead into a dragging elderly zombie, Ingrid spat at Klaus. "Outdated? You've just ceased to understand what humanity is!" She shot another, a messy headshot that sent sprays of flesh and brain into the air around them, eyes hard. "I don't know what the hell was wrong with your world, but in mine morality is all we have."