thearena | (no subject)

WHO | R and Jim Kirk [Closed]
WHAT | R goes BOO at Jim Kirk. There may be strategic shirt ripping.
WHEN | Backdated to Early Week 1
WHERE | Tomorrowland
WARNINGS / NOTES | Kirk's manly chest, with the power of the sun.

So far hunting by himself isn’t working out. R established that apparently he sucks big-time at anything that doesn’t involve overwhelming numbers on his side and he decides maybe he better try lurking again. That little kid got lucky, that’s all. R thinks this time – for real. For double real – that he’s got this, because this time there aren’t any stupid hedges to get stuck in and he even picked a really, really really good dark corner to go wait in. This time it’s happening.

R waits for the first couple of hours, swaying and staring off into the distance to keep himself busy. Whatever helps the time pass. The options on that front are kinda limited when you're a walking corpse. R grunts out a sigh.

It’s the dim, foggy hours of the morning when he thinks he hears someone coming his way. R perks up as he hunches his shoulders into an ambush position.

Showtime.

(R hopes he doesn't go groaning too early and give away his position).

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No chance of that. Jim lost the fucking kid already and he was pissed as hell about it. In a lot of ways he was damn impressed. Seriously, not many people can give him the slip and usually when he has a goal and a focus he's single-minded in seeing it through. But not that kid. That kid knew what he was doing and since Jim hadn't seen his face up high yet, he guessed that meant he was at least surviving. That was something anyway.

The area he was wandering in was about as close to home as he figured he would get, even if it looked like some blind guy's idea of what Earth looked like. Jim couldn't tell what era they were aiming for, but it was all kind of a dilapidated mess now.

Mess? R called it a pretty good runner up for home, if they had a) more zombies to populate the place and b) the food here wasn't so good at getting away. The rest of it was different enough that R thought he could literally spend years getting to sway and stagger in every nook and cranny, memorize them by heart.

All thoughts about getting settled into a routine fly out the window as R heard someone coming. He tried to pump himself up. Get hyped.

"Ugn - " Oh, no, no he wasn't. R snapped down his teeth before he could get a groan out. Not this time.

He watched as a Tribute, a tall man with broad shoulders who screamed "chick magnet" came into view, striding out of the fog. R waited until he passed underneath the overhang and into the shadows before he launched himself at the Tribute.

It wasn't hard to lose himself in the strange landscape, so much so he didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. Everything around them was creaking and groaning from age. One groan was a lot like another.

"What the-!" Jim yelped. He stumbled as something grabbed him by the middle. His pulse spiked sharply as he twisted in the hold.

R tried to claw at the other guy, his hands getting tangled up in the clothes and the cape. He registered what might've been the shirt tearing as he tried to grapple back, and found out that whoever he grabbed, he wasn't making this easy.

Hell no was he going to make this easy. Jim was a survivor. It was sort of his thing. Ridiculous good looks and insane good luck. And right now he was fighting for his goddamn life and if he kicked the poor guy making a go at his life in the shin, well, he was grabbed first.

It recurred to him when he reached for the guy's hand and felt something SNAP, that maybe things weren't totally right with the kid who had grabbed onto him.

As if the pale as corpse skin wasn't a good indication.

That would be the sound of one or two of his fingers breaking, the bones brittle and snapping a lot easier than they should've. Anyone else would've backed off from that alone, but R barely seemed to register it. The kick in the shin did more than the broken fingers, the kick enough to send R off balance. He lost his hold on his prey as the zombie lurched out of the shadows, stumbled forward, and rounded on Kirk.

He bared his teeth in a snarl and tried to make another grab at the torn shirt.