#zonbiman

[undesirablesai]

@zonbiman

The drive out had been long and annoying. There hadn’t been much traffic, at least. Well. Not in the direction he’d been going. The weird crab monster had been imposing enough to clear out half the city, leaving shops unattended and streets empty. The best way to get supplies without having to deal with a person. Not to mention he has no money. 

He’s wearing his villain outfit. Suit. Whatever. It’s really just his hero costume, dyed black and with a high collar. It had been a pain in the ass to attach, but on the rare occasion that he has to deal with a person, he doesn’t want them to see evidence of shit that’s none of their business. He doesn’t want them staring and wondering about him. He doesn’t want to be fucking pitied. 

He’d gone to get food first--just rice and frozen vegetables. Some miso paste. He doesn’t have the energy or patience for much else. And anyway, why the fuck should he waste his time cooking? It’s so much effort; and if he’s using anything more complicated than the rice cooker, he has to be sober for it, which makes it a non-starter. 

Most of the space in his car, though, is reserved for alcohol. The liquor store he’d picked is pretty well-stocked. He carries four cases of booze out at a time, stacking them in the trunk and the floorboards of the back seat. It’s not hard work, but it’s tedious. Boring. And since he’s driving, he has to be (mostly) sober for it. 

Whatever. At least I won’t have to do it again for a while. 

He shoves the last few boxes into the back seat and realizes he doesn’t hear any more fighting. It’s a little surprising, but it doesn’t really matter, he supposes. He’s ready to leave. 

As he closes the back door and trunk, though, he spots a familiar face approaching. Zombieman. Looking him up and down, Sai wonders if he should just drive away. If he should just take his shit and go. But...what would be the point of that? He’s going home and getting drunk either way. 

Making his way toward Zombieman, Sai says, “Did you kill it already?”

[thedanceoftime]

@zonbiman

The stars are particularly bright tonight, the sky is a dark blue and clear. The air is cold and smells crisp and good, by all rights it should be a good night. One best suited to being seated on her loveseat, curled up in blankets, maybe with a good book, or even better....with a cup of cocoa and a good book.

Instead, Rhyme is fighting against a group of thugs that couldn't take 'No' for an answer. More than a few are on the ground, bloody and with broken noses and jaws. But there are still four more, all armed with things they’d found lying around, and Rhyme is getting frustrated and tired of pulling her punches to avoid killing or crippling them. She doesn’t want to go to jail for murder after-all. They don’t seem to realize or appreciate the mercy, and have even vowed to wear her down and ‘make her pay’. The woman considers running away but she doesn’t really have anywhere to go and she is most definitely not leading them toward her home. She’d tried screaming for help once, but no-one had replied.

Knocking another out, Rhyme sighs heavily. The remaining three just aren’t giving up. Flexing her fists, she decides to try calling out for help again, so she takes a deep breath while they hang back, finally hesitating to close in. “Someone help me! These thugs are attacking me!”

Maybe someone useful would hear, and do something about this. because while she’d had harder workout against a punching bag, she’s starting to feel more than a little emotionally drained.

[deathtama-blog]

@zonbiman

It wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t happened right next to a hospital. Most of the patients are alright, but the ones in surgery, the ICU, or just in very unstable conditions...

Tama’s been living the same moment over and over for a while now, approaching a soul at the moment of their death, speaking as reassuringly as he can, and cutting them free, before moving on to the next person and starting at the same moment. If anyone could see him, it would look like he were in dozens of places at once. 

No one can see him, though. He’s in private hospital rooms, where only the dying would notice. He’s had trouble with loved ones or staff seeing him in the past, but it hasn’t been a problem today. 

He’s tired, though. These high-casualty monster attacks are exhausting. Seeing the same terror and horror over and over is hard. He wouldn’t trust his job to anyone else, but he doesn’t like doing it. 

To anyone else, he’s done in a moment, but relative to Tama, it’s been hours. And it’s been terrible. 

He decides, when he’s done, to go see the monster that caused all this. Standing over the last body, he watches as the room disappears around him, replaced by the street below. He sees the monster--some kind of gigantic amphibian, maybe--lying dead against the side of a parking garage. And standing across from him, Oh. Zombieman. 

Tama watches the news sometimes, and he occasionally reads the papers. He knows Zombieman from his media coverage and reputation, but they’ve never really met. But isn’t he supposed to be dead? Tama smiles and walks over, doing his best impression of non-threatening nonchalance. 

Can you see me?