http://myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com/ (
myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com) wrote in
tvklogs2011-10-11 12:24 am
Entry tags:
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.
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.

no subject
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."
no subject
Klaus had always prided himself on being able to do that on his own. He had been able to take over the country successfully because he knew when to stop, when to wait, when to let the dust settle until the next opponent got complacent and came to him. But there was no one to impress here and he hadn't been trying to hold himself back, so it was with a great effort that he pulled himself out of admiring the glorious fractals the blood and electricity were making and turned to see who had shouted his name from so very far away.
"Ingrid!" That voice wasn't natural. Wasn't safe. Certainly wasn't sane. "Red fire, woman, don't just STAND THERE!" It was obviously a command more than a request. Spark charisma wouldn't work on those who weren't from Klaus's world, weren't minion-minded, but how could he know that? It only seemed natural in the thick of a battle to try and collect allies. And he probably did look commanding enough, tall as he was, covered in blood and starkly lit by the crackling light arcing along his sword.
One of the zombies took advantage of his momentary lapse in concentration to launch itself at him and latch onto his sword arm. Unable to properly swing at it, he instead punched it in the face with the hand holding the power source, hard enough that its head snapped back at a grotesquely unnatural angle and it slumped to the ground. He stabbed it for good measure: one could never quite be sure with this sort of adversary.
no subject
"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."
no subject
And so help her if she chose to make herself a dead weight because of principles. Fighting these creatures was difficult enough without having to protect a woman too blind with her own morality to be useful, especially when more just seemed to keep coming. For every head he lopped off or body he reduced to a charred mass, another two would swarm forward in to take its place in the ranks. They were getting dangerously close to the point where they'd be able to slip past his defenses through sheer numbers. He could withstand fairly strong shocks, being a construct, but taking the full brunt of his own sword by virtue of having to use it in such close quarters would be a very, very bad idea.
Another zombie broke ranks, dodging around his sword in a movement far too fast to be fair and slashing at his face. He managed to jerk back in time -- thank Ashtara for Skifandrian-taught reflexes -- and instinctively use his forearm to knock the creature back, but of course that only resulted in it latching on. And others were still coming...
"You have a gun! USE IT!"
no subject
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."
no subject
No. He'd gone through too much to bend and die now because someone was having trouble reconciling herself with the simple facts of survival.
"There are NO SUCH THINGS as 'fair' or 'right' in battle. There is only the choice between DEATH and SURVIVAL." He looked between her and the creature trying valiantly to reach far enough to scratch his eyes out, then at the others, still advancing steadily, kept at bay only by continued slashes and crackles of electricity from his sword. "Whatever this is, it is NOT your student. Killing it would be a MERCY."
The creature succeeded in slashing him across the face. That did it. He slammed it up against the wall of a nearby building (there was a chorus of audible crack! noises), not even waiting for it to go limp and let go entirely before he jammed the pronged tip of his sword between its eyes. For a few agonizingly long moments, both he and the zombie were encased in a crackling, sparking field of electricity, and then he jerked the sword away in an arc to hit the creatures that had paused, momentarily dumbstruck at seeing their prey commit was had seemed to them an obvious act of suicide.
The runoff from their falling bodies was still coalescing back through the hoard when he turned to Ingrid, face smeared with blood and entire body lightly singed, still crackling with sparks in some places.
"They will not make ALLOWANCES for you because of emotional ties they no longer possess. They will not RECOGNIZE you. They will not STOP. Now, you will either FIGHT WITH ME, or I will leave you to the tender mercies THEY DON'T HAVE!"
no subject
"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."
no subject
"Good. I wasn't OFFERING it."
There was no point in trying to explain to her the error of her thinking. There was no point in telling her that the boy she had known had likely been dead for quite some time prior to his body being broken and charred. She clearly wasn't going to listen to reason. No one ever did.
All the cozy academics like her, that studied war but had no idea how to handle actually being in it, who tried to impose their moral philosophies on something that boiled down to nothing more than living or dying -- they made him sick. He had lived it, had been living it for over twenty years, and trying to explain that experience to her would be impossible.
He didn't try. There was still a hoard of zombies to fight his way through, after all. If she saw anyone she recognized, she could very well deal with it, because he didn't intend to give them special treatment. If he could perform this service -- because that's what it was, a service -- to friends, family, then she could damn well do it for people she had barely known a few months.
"You'll rethink that position once you rethink your outdated ideas on morality."
no subject
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."
no subject
There was going to be a mess of brains caked into his hair by the time this was over. How... familiar and homey.
Of course, that was assuming he lived. It was getting increasingly difficult to see, what with the blood from his injured eye and the flashes from his sword and the muzzle of her gun and the constantly shifting mass of extremely fast zombies. His reaction times were getting slower, almost imperceptibly, but enough to be detrimental.
He had wanted to not have to resort to his Persona. But then, the damn thing had been clamoring for release every since his face had first been slashed: it was taking more energy to hold it back than was really worth it. Fine. He released it, and the Balinese lion god immediately fell to covering any zombies he missed with well-aimed Zios.
Alright. So it was useful. But he wouldn't have needed it if he still had both his eyes. He wasn't going to let that go.