illinois ♔ and the message coming from my eyes

[spellfile]

WHO || Andrew, Zero, Han, Rocket, Klaus
WHAT || The Knights investigate some strange events  around a farmhouse in Illinois
WHERE || Metropolis Kansas
WHEN || April 20th, 2015
HOW || Actionspam

The route to the Moore residence is a secluded, gavel-topped county road that meanders through fields and farmland.  The roiling stormclouds and lack of city lights make the countryside seem unusually dark and forbidding.  A battered mailbox on the right side of the road indicates the Moore farm, and a pothole-filled drive leads up to the farmhouse.  On the right side of the long driveway, nestled among the snow, lies what appears to be a small family graveyard.

Beside the dilapidated house, stands a large German Shepard tethered on a leash, barking furiously as they pull up.  An older man stands on the porch looking highly displeased.  The man says something to the dog, but the barking continues unabated.

"You can just turn right around and head back the way you came," he yells from the porch.

Comments

[behindcloseddoors]

[ the interior of the barn is just what would be expected for a working farm. two large combines stand idle among the tool benches and other equipment, and immense bags of fertilizer are piled up on one side of the wall. buried beneath a bunch of straw, rocket finds a trapdoor that is sealed and apparently locked.

at that point, rocket's raccoon ears would pick up the distant insistent barking of oscar's dog, up by the farmhouse. ]

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket flicks his ears midway through investigating the trapdoor, deigning to ignore it in favor of creeping back to the door to peer outside. (spot 37)]

[behindcloseddoors]

[ the winds are gusting, slamming the barn door open and shut, the clouds above a strange green. there's the sound of a few gunshots resounding through the area, and rocket would be able to make out shambling shapes emerging from the cornfields in the distance, many of them. he'd also see the outline of someone pointing a gun at them. ]

[beatupgrass]

[Ugh. That is not good weather. Gonna get a little closer, sticking to the shadows. (Hide 20 total), while trying to listen to see if anything is being said (listen 33)]

[behindcloseddoors]

[ something is being said alright. moore is yelling at the shapes, which seem largely unaffected by his shots. "GET BACK! I'M WARNING YOU!" but he trips moving backwards, and one of them is on him in a matter of moments, making horrible moaning noises. rocket would hear the distinctive crunch sound as it bites into the farmer's leg, while more such shapes shamble out after it. ]

[beatupgrass]

[AHAHAAH... yeah, you know what? Rocket can't watch this. It's gonna give him flashbacks to Xandar. He also can't fix it, so... sorry, Old Man Jenkins. He's just gonna run back to where he left his phone (and his pants). And get rained on again.]

[behindcloseddoors]

[ he makes it back to his stuff, but in the distance hears horrible shouting behind him.

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET BACK INSIDE!"

"OSCAR, NO!!"

and then lots of horrible screaming

so much screaming ]

[beatupgrass]

[DIALING THE FUCK OUT OF ZERO'S NUMBER. oh god why.]

[spellfile]

Tell me it's good news. [ he does not sound optimistic for good news ]

[beatupgrass]

Uh. Well, there's some people in the freakin' cornfield, but I think they ate the dog.

[...

it's good news to him.]

[spellfile]

Define people.

[beatupgrass]

Bald-bodied idiots. All you humies look the same to me. [DEADPAN.] These ones walk funny. Kinda shambley. And they're probably rippin' apart that old dude right now, so now would be a good time for some back-up.

[Calm the sass, Rocket.]

[spellfile]

Did you say ripping apart? [ he pulls his mouth away from the phone to mutter: ] Jesus H. Christ. It's zombies. Of course it's zombies.

[beatupgrass]

All's I know is there's a lot of screamin' and I don't know a whole lot about human behavior, but bitin' people's legs probably ain't part of it.

[spellfile]

Get somewhere safe and hide there til we show up. Don't try to play hero.

[beatupgrass]

Hah. Me. Play the hero. That's a good one.

[Awkward... laughter.

HE DOESN'T HAVE HIS STUFF OR HE PROBABLY WOULD BE.]

[spellfile]

Just play possum a little longer. We'll be right there. [ click ]