taxonomites | [ location ] + [ visual ] zombies epilogue

The fake sun is high in the projected sky over Taxon today, and things are beginning to change.

Street by street, building by building, things are snapping back to normal in a great wave of progress. Bodies disappear completely as the moves through the city. When the last building fades back into its former glory, the power throughout the city snaps back on with a gentle thud and low hum of electricity.

Half an hour later, all over the city, the Extras reappear as if they had never left. They walk to their simple jobs, perform their tasks, chatter amongst themselves in their background nothing language. No sign of the plague is in them or their behavior.

Those who had been lost in the plague are back, too, crowded together in the arrival room at the Sanctuary, bright and new as if they'd never even been scratched even if they remember.

Once that's all finished, the citizens get a special broadcast as an exceptionally handsome man appears on the tablets. He is standing in a bathroom, dressed in nothing but the white towel wrapped securely around his hips and a beguiling smile. When he speaks, his voice is deep, warm, and soothing.

"Hello, ladies and men. We would like to begin by offering an apology for the recent unpleasantness. Some research for a simple virus had been conducted, but there was some confusion with implementation and the results were less than ideal. I wish to personally assure you that repairs are well under way, and Taxon has been restored to its usual scintillating glory."

He pauses, and trumpet bells appear to either side of him to issue a fanfare and confetti. They retreat immediately.

"Additionally, I must convey my extreme pleasure at how well you acquitted yourselves. I am not sure I could have done as well, unless I was firing lightning arrows from astride my velociferrari. I wish I could craft trophies made out of medals made out of 24-karat gold stars for each of you, but I only had room in my budget for one," and with that he reaches off screen and hauls said Stanley Cup-sized trophy into frame. "Which I will now accept on your behalf."

[ ooc: ZOMBIES OFFICIALLY AND COMPLETELY OVER, EVERYTHING IS BACK TO NORMAL! Expect publicly viewable alien on alien comments in this post, threadjack them at will. For more information on the end of the zombie event and additional plotting for all of your dead folks, please go to this post. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Personally, I think we should have zombies more often.

[ Citizens, meet the confusion with implementation. ]

You are destructive. There was no proposal for zombies! I checked. Twice. We're not supposed to simply spring these things on them, and there are schedules.

[ the shark does not approve, mayhem. ]

And budgets. I am most disappointed, and canceling your invitation to my timeshare.

[ no amber-encrusted bungalow on a beachfront ski resort for you, Mr. Shakey. ]

Budgets come with quotas. I don't recall that overgrown albacore proposing anything about meeting them.

"HEY. Oh no you don't!" Jenny points fiercely at the towel-clad man. "You're not accepting anything on our behalf. You're putting that trophy in the Sanctuary where it belongs. Got that?!"

Less than a day ago, Jenny would have had much harsher words for their alien kidnappers, but they brought Paul back and Jenny's rather elated about that. If he's still alive, she can pretend that shooting him wasn't as horrible and traumatizing as it actually was. She's also really, really grateful that they don't have to burn any more bodies. Everything's spic and span, and if there's one good thing she can say about these idiots, it's that they clean up after themselves.

And you're damn right she wants that trophy.

"And I want to speak to your quality control and risk assessment people. This sort of cock-up is unacceptable!" Because of course they have quality control and risk assessment departments. All good operations do, and despite (or because of) Jenny's frustration at being unable to find an escape, this is clearly a good operation. Usually, at least. When they're not ignoring the proper procedures. And if anything's certain, it's death, taxes, and miles of red tape.

"Quality control and risk assessment speaking, how may I help you today?"

This guy sounds kind of sarcastic, Jenny. And it looks like he does his risk assessing in person, what with the black eye and stitches.

"What the bloody hell are you lot doing over there?! Don't you have any checks and fail-safes in place for this sort of thing?! It's bad enough you've got us all locked up here like rats -- and you've done a bang-up job of that -- the least you could do is make sure we're not having to deal with rampant disease!"

You've got an angry customer over here, Shakey.

At first there is only an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes while Jenny talks. Customer service was never really Mayhem's strong suit, especially not when he has to pretend like he cares.

"Look, you would've had rampant disease anyway. The shark wanted to give you all the flu, I just made it a little more interesting."

[ Okay, this is seriously creeping Willow out. She hasn't been around nearly long enough for... this level of creepy. Seriously. Creepilicious. Creeptacular, even.

And why did they glitch her and then glitch everything almost at the same time? ]

Um... you can keep your trophy. I don't think anyone wants it.

Edited 2011-02-24 19:36 (UTC)

"I do." Jenny raises her hand like a kid in a classroom. "At least, I don't want them to reward themselves with the bloody thing."

"Oh, uh... maybe they can give it to you, then."

I figure they can put it in the Sanctuary and we can graffiti it. Or melt it into scrap. Or hang coats on it or something.

[ Okay, that makes her laugh. ] So, we'll figure something out to do with it? I-I like that plan. That could be a good plan. It might even prove more useful with us!

"A trophy?" The suggestion made DG - exhausted by the stresses of the last week and still unaware of Cain's return - shake with rage. "You think any of us want your trophy?"

She didn't even want their apologies, since they didn't mean anything. She wanted Cain back. She wanted to go home. She wanted their captors - whatever face they were wearing - to pay for what they'd done and the lives that had been lost.

"You think an apology is good enough? You ... you twisted little monsters! If you want to do something useful, send us home! Or at least tell us what you want with us!"

"There's only so much we can do!"

You know, between the creating of undead plagues and subsequent repair.

"If you've got time to hatch a trophy for yourself," snapped DG, clenching her fists in helpless rage as she glared at the hamster on the tablet screen, "You've got time to answer my questions."

"Man, what you should be apologizing for is not having more zombies."

What? This is the most fun he's had in centuries.

Edited 2011-02-26 03:45 (UTC)

"Why can't everyone have that kind of attitude?"

Mayhem has a new favorite citizen. Not that he had an old favorite, but that's beside the point.

"I don't know, man. They're just boring, I guess."

If Loki knew he was Mayhem's new favorite, he would...probably still not have the common sense to be worried about that.

This voice sounds more than a little drunk. But perfectly, perfectly aware of what it is saying.

"Oh, FUCK. YOU.

"Assholes."

[ location ] + [ visual ] zombies epilogue

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[ visual ] p-p-placeholder /passes out

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[ visual ] - anyone is welcome to threadjack her

[ visual ] - threadjacking yeeaaaaah~

[ visual ] - \o/

[ visual ] - aaand I fail at tagging lately, ALL THE LATE EVER

[ visual ] - /cannot ever complain about other people being late ;o;

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