Poughkeepsie Attacks!!!: Team Opera House

[gone_byebye]

The Bardavon Opera House in Poughkeepsie has been in operation since 1869. It's a big, intricate building, located solidly in the middle of town, and on all of Ray's distant PKE scans it shone like a beacon.

Possibly with good reason, since the streets around it are alive with mice.

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[gone_byebye]

If it's any comfort, the Tarzan call would be wasted on this crowd. Their heads lift, their half-blinded eyes track his swing, but they haven't got what it takes to truly appreciate the archaeologist's theatrics.

About half of them are dropping back to the floor and scrabbling on all fours towards the front of the auditorium, single-minded in their pursuit of the last living thing they saw. The others are hesitant, or still looking this way and that between where Indy had been and where Mel was when last they saw her. They'd be sitting ducks if they were a little less revolting of a sight.

[slayer_fray]

So much for providing a distraction.

"Hey!" Mel screams, flipping onto her feet on the railing and swinging around at the nearest few zombies.

The just to make the point, she somersaults over into the main circle seats.

[gone_byebye]

Now they're focused. Unlike the living, the dead don't stay conflicted long. They're coming after her as fast as their awkward, grey-hued bodies can manage.

[slayer_fray]

That's what Mel's talking about.

The first few to reach her are those dropping down after her, and she hacks through them easily as they hit the seats, then she flips onto the backs and slices through more.

Mel likes it when things are simple. And you can't get much more simple than a girl and her scythe against an army of the brainless undead.

Hack, slash, stab, jump. Her smile fades into concentration as her scythe moves in a blur.

[gone_byebye]

From above, the scene looks almost like the sort of thing you might see at a fish market- specifically, the crab section. Ever looked at one of those? The crabs spend all their time climbing over each other and whatever part of the wall of their bucket they can reach, only to fall down and claw at each other again. It's a little like that, with the zombies climbing and clawing and lunging without so much as a hint of comprehension that anything else might be going on around them, except that the fish market doesn't usually have someone in the middle of the crab bucket smashing the crabs to pieces.

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Not that Mel seems to be needing any help, but...

The curtain slowly draws up from the stage. Now wearing a fedora again (not his) and brandishing a very real-looking saber, Indy stands front and center, a heroically poised figure amongst thick swirls of mist. Looks like somebody found the Deputy Stage Manager's console as well as the props department.

The dramatic smoke effect is partially ruined by the zany multi-colored wash of lights, but it's still a pretty impressive entrance.

"Okay. I'm here," he calls to Mel. "You can stop hogging all the action now."

[slayer_fray]

"OK!" Mel calls back, without breaking in the action.

Dammit, this is sort of fun, except for the might get killedat any moment.

Ah, hell, with the might get killed at any moment.

"Guys! Go over to Indy. Any time you're ready. Go!"

She doesn't stop moving to see if it works.

[gone_byebye]

Zombies aren't very good at comprehension unless you've got the spell focus that forces them to respond to you. Mel's words are met with looks of blank why are you still talking and moving, food?. Fortunately, the smoke and the light are enough to draw some of their attention to the newly arrived figure on the stage, and a bunch of the remaining zombies drop to the floor and scurry towards it as fast as possible.

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Indy's sword isn't particularly sharp and his style of fighting is clumsily opportunistic at the best of times. However, there's some basic skill in his moves thanks to Arithon's teachings, and zombies aren't the most challenging of combat adversaries. From his elevated location on the stage front, it's a pretty simple task for him to slice and dice those that are trying to reach him.

Roughly severed heads soon start to congregate against the first row of seats, while their decayed body counterparts start to pile up below the stage.

[slayer_fray]

Mel, meanwhile, thinks the fighting wouldbe much easier if they were together.

She cartwheels out of the crowd, cutting through flesh as she moves. She said beheading, but she's cutting them in half more often than not, and hoping it works.

When she reaches the edge of the circle, she stands back on the railing, beheads a few more, then somersaults down into the stalls.

[gone_byebye]

Practical girl, Mel. It's kind of a pity that there's no internal security system here. Mel's fan group in New York would be thrilled to see what they assumed the human heroine of the live-action Transformers movie was doing against the zombies right now.

Fans can be a little delusional.

Beheading works better than bisecting, to be honest, but whacking them in half does degrade their performance considerably. Only the upper halves remain animate to any great degree, and they're a lot slower and more prone to being damaged by their fellows. It'll be a hell of a thing to have to clean up when all's said and done, but isn't that always the case with zombies?

[slayer_fray]

Apparently so. Mel never thought she'd find herself missing lurks, which tend to be easier to clean up.

She whips her blade from side to side, and races though the crowd, cutting down everyone she passes, until one final leap brings her side by side with Indy.

"Hey, nice to get a work out, isn't it?"

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Though the killing isn't complicated work, all the exertion under the heat of the stage lights is starting to take a toll on Indy. There's a light sheen of sweat across his forehead, and his shirt is getting darker by the minute.

"Speak for yourself," he puffs in reply. "I work out daily."

Chop, chop, hack.

"The only difference here is the lack of Raph bitching."

Thud.

"Oh, and the zombies."

[slayer_fray]

"Raph?"

Mel's amusing herself by seeing how many heads she can get off with one swing. Her limit so far is three, but that's only if you count the one where the edge of the stage finished the job for her.

"How come you're both... down!"

She's lighter and more agile with Indy, and that's why she feels obliged to leap over him and keep the zombies down on that side too.

"...training with Raph, now?"

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"Watch it," Indy mutters as he ducks under Mel's acrobatics. "And... yeah. We figured he's the only person capable of withstanding our brand of crap."

Swipe, slash, hack.

"'Lana nearly hit the roof when she found out. Ungh... just die already, you son-of-a—"

Thud.

"Reckons she can handle us just as well."

[slayer_fray]

"Well, she's been busy with the babies," Mel observes.

Then she drops down into the orchestral pit to be closer to the zombies. And also to give herself the opportunity to spin around with her blade held out.

Four! New record.

"So yeah, I guess she might be down to your level now."

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Indy pauses in order to mock-glare at his partner.

"You're hilarious."

He then aims a zealous boot at an extra tenacious zombie, finishing the neck cutting work he'd started with the sword.

Thud.

[gone_byebye]

They've cut through the zombies like a chainsaw through, well, zombies, and there's hardly any left by now. Poughkeepsie just hasn't got that many dead. Thank God this isn't Queens or something.

Especially since Indy's belt radio suddenly whistles. "Hey, guys," says Ecto's voice- Ray made sure everyone knew what she sounded like before sending them off to get their rentals. "We found Peck and what I'm pretty sure is the Ark up at IBM. And there's a lot more guys up here than they really need at this time of night. Can you finish up what you're doing and join us?"

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Indy takes a few steps back from the battle-zone and grabs the radio again. He's not going to turn down a chance to catch his breath.

"Okay, Ecto," he wheezes. "We've just got a few more undead guys to dispatch, and then we'll head on over. Indy and Mel out."

He clips the device back onto his belt.

"You hear that, Funny Girl? We're needed elsewhere."

[slayer_fray]

Mel glances over her shoulder. "Really?"

Her shrug marks a change in fighting style. The long curved how many heads can I get with this one? arcs of her scythe turn into short, hard no-nonsense hacks as she takes the last few zombies out in a matter of minutes.

"OK," she says, wiping her blade on her shirt. "Let's go."

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Indy is unable to contribute anything else to the situation. He's just left on stage, staring at Mel's sudden killing efficiency. Once she's done, he gives her a near-incredulous look.

"What the hell?"

"If you'd fought like that from the start, we'd have been done in half the time."

[slayer_fray]

"Yeah," Mel admits, jerking her head to the door. "But you'd have had nothing to do. This way it was a fun bonding experience."

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"Oh, right."

Indy looks kinda dubious as he vaults down from the stage.

"Um... thanks for sharing then... I guess."

He weaves his way through the unholy mess of heads and bodies and joins her in the main aisle.

"Next time? There's no need to be quite so considerate."

[slayer_fray]

"Better work out than anything Raph could've done for you," Mel mutters as they walk up the aisle.

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"You're right there," Indy concedes, removing the minivan keys from his pocket and mentally preparing for the mice again. "I just hope our 'bonding' hasn't caused us to miss any of the real action."

He makes a valid point. They'll find out soon enough.