12: Video/Spam: Fix this, Joe? --What's the problem?-- Ran out of time.

[omar]

[Video, Private to Chris, Sunday evening]

[Once upon a time, Omar hadn't minded the Barge so much. It's a prison, sure, but one with better food and more fresh air, and he'd actually really liked his warden. He and Leslie had had something of an understanding between them: she respected him by trying not to get too much in his face; he respected her by trying not to seriously hurt anyone that hadn't hurt someone else first. He'd still killed Ladd Russo twice, and she'd still taken steps against him both times, but he hadn't felt like her heart was really in it. At the end of the day, they actually kind of trusted each other.

He realizes now that he let himself get fooled into extending that trust to other wardens, too. Chris D'Amico has been a nightmare for him, pushy and rude and disrespectful and entitled, and while Omar had seen the part of Leslie that had actually wanted to help him, he's seen none of it in Chris.

Which is fine. He's a warden, after all. Omar should have remembered that most people here weren't going to be any different from most people back home: selfish and hungry. He should have remembered that any real prison warden is as much a part of the game as he is.

Time to remind Chris what their roles should really look like.

On Sunday evening Chris gets a series of video messages from Omar's communicator, one after the other, five in all. Each one seems to be filmed in the first-person perspective, at around chest height, like Omar stuck his communicator in his breast pocket and hit record. Each one depicts an attack: Jimmy, Mickey, Letty, Dark, and Arthas. The last one is very nearly current, which is good, because...]

[Open Spam for Level 1]

[...In the wake of escaping Arthas' cabin, Omar may have let the zombies out. Like Anya said: cleanup, aisle 7. Omar darts down the hallway just ahead of the pack, one of Arthas' shining gauntlets underneath his arm.]

((Omar is going to try to GTFO, but feel free to also use this post for general zombies-on-level-1 shenanigans!))

[Video, Public]

[Once Chris picks up his communicator, Omar starts broadcasting his reaction to the network at large. He really can't wait to see what happens.]

Comments

ARTHAS

[omar]

[He probably should have saved Dark for last, but that had been carefully planned out enough that he'd been fairly sure of himself. Arthas... he's still a more unknown quantity, and Omar suspects that he's powerful enough even without his undead mojo that this might turn out to be really hard.

But the good thing about Arthas being a little unknown to Omar is that Omar is quite certain that he is very unknown to Arthas. Certain enough that he suspects there's no harm in trying the front door the good old-fashioned way. He ends the day as he started it: with a knock.]

[prodigalleader]

[Someone's outside.

Fifty ghouls have been crammed into Arthas' cabin since the Amsterdam port, going increasingly hungry. At the moment, they're under no one's control but their own and movement means people. People mean food.

The black metal of the door rattles as rotting bodies throw themselves against it from the inside. Fingernails rasp across it, and wordless growls are heard overtop.]

[omar]

[Hmm. That seems a little... portentous. Omar considers his next move, albeit quickly. He's definitely not backing out, but he has limited time before someone finds Dark and puts a stop to all of this.]

'Ayo. Arthas.

[He knocks again and calls through the door, the other hand slipping into his pocket for Jimmy's now-bloody knife. When the rattling continues and he gets no other replies, he decides to go for broke. There's an animal of some kind in there -- he can handle a guard dog.

Breaking into a Barge cabin is harder than breaking into a Baltimore tenement, but this one proves doable. He readies himself, readies his weapon, and then shoves the doors open as hard as he can into whatever waits behind them.]

[prodigalleader]

[The ghouls stumble back, screech. The ones in the front are disoriented, but behind them the light catches feral, wild eyes and sloughing flesh of the second row.

One climbs over its companions on all fours to leap at Omar, stubs of fingers clawing forward.]

[omar]

[Omar doesn't like to swear, but if he were ever to start, now would be a pretty good time. He hisses and scrambles back, slashing at the foremost ghoul.

This may have been a mistake.

He backs up further into the corridor, letting them spill out into the hallway, hoping to circle around them and back into the room when they're all out.]

[prodigalleader]

[They tumble out like a living rush of water. Most scatter, lope down the hall on all fours, leaving the room behind them empty and dark.

The slashed one howls and lashes out again as its skin splits open. The smell, already horrific, gets even worse.]

[omar]

[Omar steels himself against the stench, willing himself not to gag. He strikes again at the wounded ghoul, slicing it across the hands, then tries to dart past into the room beyond.]

[prodigalleader]

[Brittle, rotting hands grab at his clothes as he rushes past but the bulk of the force is already gone, paying no attention.

The room is a mess, as one would assume from keeping dozens of zombies inside.]

[omar]

[Ah, but are there diamonds in this rough? Omar thinks he spots one. There's something shiny there, anyway.]

[darknessb4me]

[No diamonds, but a full suit of armor minus the helmet, as clean and polished as if it was ready to be worn.]

[omar]

[Well, hello. He doesn't have much time, so he grabs the first portable-looking thing he sees: one of the gauntlets.]