Strictly Business. Sorta. {oPeN}

[ichirou tachibana]

"HEY!"

Hey... Hey... hey...

Oh how it echoed down here! Ichirou liked the echo, he liked the resounding emptiness of a voice that was repeated over and over until it was hollow and dry and dead. There was that quality about an echoed voice, the way it toned and trembled and repeated itself, that made the man nearly scream in delight. But, of course, he couldn't do that. That was quite an unseemly thing to do, especially for the alpha dog of the Nyx.

Never fear! Leader-sama is here!

Ichirou, the alpha dog, the head honcho, leader-sama, picked up a hollow metal rod lying around on the ground. Initial chaos had taken whatever order there was, and left nothing behind it seemed. Even the Fritch Railway Station had been torn apart and left in a state that made it look like a set from some horror movie. There was disgusting mildew and green and black moulds. Pools of stagnant water and flickering yellow lights. Look! There was even a reeking, broken-down train sitting amidst the rubble that holed up one side of the tunnel, and no doubt the bodies of whoever was caught inside. The stench had long gone, but the stale air hung and stuck to his clothes and hair. Pieces of this and whatever that used to be littered every possible surface of the area, festering and growing their own type of life.

"Come out, come out, whatever you are!"

BANG BANG BANG

The hollow metal rod made contact with the handrail multiple times, creating that ear-piercing shriek that most could only associate with car crashes and train wrecks. Ah, he liked the sound. It was loud and meaningless and meant to attract attention if there was anybody around. After a few more seconds of ear-splitting noise, he stopped and pulled the standard-issue gasmask over his face. He may have been careless and he may have been stubborn, but he was absolutely not a zombie and he didn't want to be one any time soon. The echoes of the metal-to-metal contact soon faded its sharp sound, leaving nothing but silence behind. Silence, and nothing else. Nothing answered it either.

"Alright Ry-baby, it's safe."

There was a scritchy-scratchy sound and the little stick of a boy came scrambling down the stairs and into the stale-air that was the Fritch Railway Station. Little Ry-baby then proceeded to attach himself to Ichirou's side like a leech, holding onto his baggy black shirt that still somehow managed to show off his tank muscles underneath.

Ichirou shoved the metal rod into a loop in his belt before petting the boy's strangely soft hair that lay in a straight but floppy mop on his head and over his eyes. He was like a little dog... Sort of. Actually, Ry-baby was better then a dog because he didn't shed or make a lot of noise or run into walls. The boy made himself useful by finding food and water and the likes, thanks to his second nature find-things-that-are-useful instinct from back in Cambodia.

Ichirou, Leader-sama, leaned over a bit and strapped the boy's gasmask on for him. He couldn't have his baby boy getting sick, now could he? With another pat on the head, he sent the little boy off and watched with mild interest as he scuttled through the ruins and rubble, finding whatever could be useful back at home base. He followed after him, keeping an eye on his baby at all times as he searched the dingy place for whatever. He would follow his baby because sometimes he got his clothes or hair snatched up on something and he would cry until somebody got him out, before resuming what he was doing as if nothing happened. There was, of course, the occasional time that a zombie would escape the initial face-bashing Ichirou dished out to make the immediate area 'Ry-safe'. Ah well, you can't always have it your way, despite whatever Burger King said.

Ah, those damn zombies better get off his lawn.

The man continued to watch his itty bitty baby scamper around the immediate area, oblivious to anything outside his direct range of vision. Ichirou took a smoke out of his pocket, lighting it in a swift motion and taking a big breath of the sweet fumes. Of course, he would never let his Ry-baby touch any of these; they were really bad for his lungs. Just because he was being stupid, doesn't mean anybody else had the permission to.

At least he had Ry still. Who knew where the others were? Jesus Christ on a bun, where were they? And by they, Leader-sama meant his bro, his two other little boys and his wacko adopted sister. He wasn't sure if Ry missed them very much, but he was sure the boy didn't miss Kou. It was a love-hate-hit-you-upside-the-head-with-an-Oxford sort of relationship. Ichirou had always found the need to intervene with something they were doing and... And...

And what the hell was Ry staring at a little ways down the tunnel?

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Quickstats: complete
Tagging: open
Notes: meh, join up people! Plenty of Leader-sama to go around!

[emory siinfel]

K WHEN I CAN BE ASSED TO MAKE GRAPHICS THEY WILL GO HERE.
please make due with me i am so sorry. D:

“LET THE WILD RUMPUS
STARRRRRRRTTT!”[/center][/color]

The call comes out in a bestial little roar and is accompanied by a feral little gas mask-stifled snort. Mars is erupting into laughter; the frantic giggling exploding his lungs as he flings his allegedly wild self out into the ruins of a train station. His own personal Giant Mother Hen Emory is in hot pursuit. It’s hard to tell if Mars can possibly grasp the reality of the world he lives in; all decrepit bodies and rifle muzzles; or if it’s because of this that he tries so hard to remind people people how to live.

Likely the first; he is dipshit, after all.

It’s a miracle the kid doesn’t trip--

okay, we spoke too soon.

The blonde body plummets to the floor, only to peel himself off of the tracks and run with renewed vigor.

It’s a miracle the kid doesn’t trip and scrape his entire face clean off, the rate that he’s running at; the rate at which his feet are just barely dodging track carnage and shrapnel. Emory is exhausted because keeping a near-24/7 watch on the kid is still not enough; Mars will constantly re-invent ways to kill himself: the latest effort being running through a sharp and nasty and likely tetanus-infested train graveyard. “MARS.” Fucking hell. The kid’s too old to heed his every chastisement but too young (mentally) to give up on inventing these latest, greatest, shiny splendorous fun amazing-y suicide attempts. Mars is all he has and he simply will not allow himself to lose him, because out there be zombies.

OR PEOPLE.

And he can’t decide who are worse.

“IT’S NOT SAFE OUT HERE.”

(DUH.)

He lunges for the back of the guy’s collar, but Mars is Speedy Gonzales when on a mission (read: not often) so his digits close around empty air.

Emory’s cynical old man breath is wasted on the blonde, who continues to dart forward in all of his folly down this latest, newest tunnel. Emory doesn’t understand how it’s so new for the kid--he’s chased him through, like, four of these tunnels already, but every time the railroad tracks curve Mars suddenly holds in his breath in awe; like there’s poetry in the traintomb’s structure; like this is something NEW and SPLENDOROUS and AMAZING and NEW and SPLENDOROUS and AMAZING and NEW and SPLENDOROUS and AMAZING and NEW and--

dear god, you get the point.

Emory is too concerned trying to get Mars back at his side (it’s simple enough math, he figures: Mars + Emmyclinging = safety) to notice that they’re being watched. -500 survival points right there. Add a blow to the ego and a punch in the gut (because chasing Mars was winding, dammit) and you had Emory’s current position right now. The veins in his body are pumping battery acid instead of blood (fuck, how far does the kid run?) and before he knows it, that damned blonde blur has disappeared among the wreckage and a sound advises that he’s managed to fling himself at the nearest moving thing in miles and tackled it to the floor.

MARS VISION INITIATED: TARGET IS HUMAN-SHAPED.

FLINGING MECHANISM ENGAGED. ARMS OPEN AND READY.

CRRRRRRRSSSSSHHHHKKKKKKK.

“HAI.”

[/color]

The blonde’s first thought was that it was Kyle. And it would have been normal to tacklehimtothefloorinageneralmolestationeffort attempt to hug his other half while his peglegs were running at 140 km/hour. Unfortunately (for Ry, that is; Mars loved new people with puppylike desperation) this was not a Kyle. This was a Ry. And this would also probably earn him a big glorious bad place in the heart of Ichirou but he could claim he had good intentions over and over again.

And the universe sent in Emory for damage control, forcing the overgrown mother hen to haul the guy off of thepoorsquishedskirtthatmighthavecontainedaman(?)once. Ohhhhh boy, does he have a lot of explaining to do. He prays nobody shoots before he can explain himself. He feels bad for depriving Mars of his childhood (despite the whole ‘being nineteen’ thing,) but he reckons he’d feel so much worse if he was shot under the presumption of assault. Blondie is pulled into his overprotective grasp, and he tries to make it look as though they mean no harm

(which is harder than it sounds when you were outfitted in illegally obtained weaponry and your younger brother had just attempted to smother the life out of someone with a hug.)

[/size]

[ichirou tachibana]

The itsy bitsy Asian boy in the skirt stared with an odd amount of interest down the tunnel. Ichirou couldn’t see that far, of course, because he was probably the only man within a few thousand miles to insist upon wearing heavily tinted sunglasses in a dim abandoned train tunnel. It probably wasn’t a zombie because if Ry ever saw a single trace of a zombie he would haul ass right on outta there and surgically attach himself to his Nyx-leader-sama-daddy’s side. Instead the boy stared and DAMNIT he would get killed like that one day.

And those zombies kept coming up and loitering on his yard.

Clink clink clink

Ichirou’s head whipped around until the dividing tunnel was straight in his line of vision. Jesus, those zombies were slow sometimes. If they were coming now, he would bash their rotten faces in with that metal pipe until their spoiled brains were coming out of their ears. Leader-sama was one of those odd people who didn’t really like to use those boom-’splody sticks most called a ‘gun’. But just because he didn’t like them doesn’t mean he didn’t have one.

Beretta U22 Neos in his back pocket

DISTRACTION ALERT: AREA NOT RY-SAFE

CRASH ”HAI.”

”RY!”

Leader-sama took off like he had a hot poker up his ass. Ry had slipped deeper down the dark passage and had disappeared somewhere or another. Damn that kid moved really quick when he wanted to, and it was unfortunate that whatever higher being decided now was a good time. Well, the boy couldn’t be too hard to find unless he was hiding. Hewaswearingabrightpinkskirtafterall.

He ran around the corner just in time to have a squealing and crying Ry jump onto his daddy-dearest and hang off his side like a morbid man-purse. Poor little Ry looked a bit flustered and he was making those loud gaspy sounds that only came after a) great sex, or b) being smothered. Ichirou figured he would rather go for option b.

”HEY!” Ohohoho, you do not want the ”HEY” from Leader-sama. ”THE FLIPPING FUCK WAS THAT?”

Echo echo echo right down the train tracks.

The two at the end of the tunnel better either haul ass or come over here and explain themselves. Emmy and Mars had to have balls made of brass and pumped full of an elephant’s testosterone to have even thought about putting a finger on his Ry-baby. His little flaming homo of a boy had scraped up palms and oh sweet moses he better not have come in contact with any germy zombie-diseased things.

Okay, whatever, Leader-sama was coming over there.

With Ry clinging onto his side --I’m a koala and you’re my eucalyptus tree!--, he marched right on over to the two at the end of the tunnel. Of course, Ry was notorious for his hummingbird-on-meth attention span and as soon as Leader-sama had made it within a few meters of duo-Team-Dipshit, the neon pink skirted boy popped himself off his side and scuttled right on over to the blond that had been dry humping him only a few seconds before. Despite Ichirou’s yelled protests, Ry proceeded to poke the shorter blonde idiot-looking one in the face before attaching himself to his side as well.

”Ry, get off him!” He proceeded to haul the little human with no apparent gender off Mars and was none too gentle (at least to Mars) about it. Ah jeez, short little Ry looked like a midget, surrounded by the three six-foot-somethings. Why oh why did he have to be a five foot three bit of sitting jailbait? In that skirt, he was just setting himself up to be raped or molested or something of the sort.

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Quickstats: complete
Tagging: open
Notes: meh, join up people! Plenty of Leader-sama to go around!

[gaven rodgers]

Somehow it must have been Gaven's brain that wasn't functioning right or was is mind deceiving him. Cause it seemed to him that Mar's gas mas wasn't working and with every deep breath he took, he consumed more laughing gas of some sorts, but no matter how much Gaven tried to deny the truth and try to make up his own stupid idiotic theory. The truth was that's just how Mars functioned all the time, like a wine up toy, but never stopping and always on the go. Gaven couldn't keep up with him, even he tired out once in a while. No not mars though, so it wasn't unnatural that Gaven just gave up trying to run after the kid. He came to quick halt, trying to catch his breath. Heaving over into a bow, peering into the distance at a determined Emory going after his little kid brother. They both disappeared into the dark abandon Train station of Fritch.

There stood Gaven confused and alone. Waiting for this whole hoax to be over. After a good three minutes. It was totally plain and obvious to Gaven they weren't coming back. He might have been standing in front of a mirror with " Dumbass " Imprinted on his forehead for standing in front of a strain station alone for so long. He was like a walking billboard for zombie food. Once he finally admitted to himself, he would more likely be in a dark, blood stain, and proably zombie invested with others. Than to be alone to die slow and painfully.

[/size]

After much carefully planed out thinking which seemed like an eternity to a small minded Gaven when in reality was probably a good thirty seconds. His feet began to move as walking on their own without any command from Gaven. Once he took his first steps into the darkness, it felt like his heart was caught in his throat and for the billionth time he was frighten. He was also alone and he defiantly didn't want to die alone. Again he was probably making a bad decision, when he should in fact be somewhere else safe and sound and out of harms way, but then that's when the guilt kicked in and suddenly again his feet where moving towards the direction Emory and Mars had ran off to.

“HAI.”

Was all Gaven heard he refused to acknowledge the loud thud that came before it, probably the sound of two human beings plummeting to the floor. The only thing that gave him the will to go on and the feeling of blood rushing threw him was the loud squeal of Mars. He heard the same familiar sound almost all the time when he would come back from scavenging for food and Mars would tackle him for some chocolate wafers. which where a big favorite of Gaven's, but never seem to get to eat any of it.

By the time Gaven's eye's had adjusted to the dark, the first thing that came into view was Emory's bulky mass of body weight. Gaven had to skid to complete halt, not to run him over and even if Gaven did there was a big chance he might not even feel it. Though, if the chance of not being killed in a situation like this any person would laugh. An over-excited Mars smothering another Innocent by-stander. Which at the same time did not look right. Gaven took a look over his surrounding's and realized they weren't the only one's. A man off to the distance drudging their way with an expression of worried/angry father. The first reaction was Gaven's defense reaction which was to take his position behind Emory and try his best to blend in and not be seen nor heard.

Both almost simultaneously grasp their young one's like the mother hen's they where and pried the over-simulated blond boy off the bewildered little girl or boy. Gaven couldn't really tell from the darkness and the distance between them. Then it was the most awkward situation, that would make Gaven laugh just to break the silence, but it wasn't long before the girl/boy or whatever he/she was made the first move. He slowly made his way over to Mar's searching his face then clinging to him like he had seen Mars to do Emory a thousand times.

Finally Gaven couldn't keep quiet any longer this was all getting to him and making his blood rush. If it wasn't for the pitch darkness and the gas mask covering his face anyone could tell his face was flustered from embarrassment or fear which ever one came first. Maybe he was just late to the party or whatever, but whatever it was it was something from a SCFI movie and that's just what is life was.

A FREAKING SCFI MOVIE!!!!!!!

Though it was very awkward, the silence was there and if no on was going to break it. He guessed Gaven had to be the one to do so. Cause it seemed that rest where all to bewildered to do anything. Well that was Gaven's first guess. So Gaven swallowed down his fear and force his mouth to move, trying his best not to slur his words.

" Whatsgoingonhere?"

It was to late the words had already come out and in a slur to which he was trying to avoid. Gaven sulk back even more into the darkness as the watchful eye's of everyone in the alley way of the train station where on him.