mindy macready is hit-girl (icankickyourass) wrote in safezonethreads, @ 2010-01-22 02:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, dean winchester, hit-girl |
WHO: Mindy Macready (Hit-Girl) and Dean Winchester
WHAT: Fighting zombies!
WHEN: Around midnight
WHERE: Near the northern border of the Safe Zone
RATING: R (violence and language)
STATUS: In Progress
After going through all of the checkpoints, answering all of the questions, and getting placed in a group home until 'someone suitable' could be found to take her in, Mindy'd had just about enough of the government to last her a lifetime. It wasn't that she didn't respect authority. She did. But she also knew that most of the people who were handing out the questionnaires and housing assignments were nothing more than a bunch of pansies who had probably only survived the zombie outbreak by hiding in their homes until someone had come along to save their ass. So to have to take orders from them, especially when she was one of the ones who tended to do said saving of asses, was a bit of an insult to her pride.
Still, she jumped through the appropriate hoops, smiled sweetly and did her best to seem as nonthreatening as possible. She supposed it must have helped, as they hadn't bothered to even check her belongings for contraband. And finally, once she was all settled into the group home and those who were running it were fast asleep, she broke out of the sweet girl mode she'd been in and took to the streets.
She wanted to wear her costume while out and about but she didn't have time to change into it and wasn't about to risk getting caught sneaking back in while wearing it. So, street clothes it was. Which was okay too. Because, thanks to the significant lack of interest in her belongings, Mindy had managed to bring most of her weapons with her into the Safe Zone. And that was the important part for what she was about to do.
Idly flipping her benchmade model 42 butterfly knife open and closed in one palm, her gun tucked into the waistband of her jeans, and the staff that contained her long sword in her other hand, she glanced around as she walked the streets. An eleven-year-old out and about this time of night wasn't necessarily a good thing but, aside from a few strange looks and one woman offering to help her, Mindy wasn't really being bothered by anyone. And as the foot traffic began to get less and less, and the area began to get rougher and rougher, she knew she was finally reaching a part of the zone where she wanted to be.
Sure enough, just as she rounded a corner and was debating on cutting through the ruins of a fallen building or simply continuing down the street itself, she came across them. Just a handful of zombies - no more than five or six, tops - but it was more than enough to make a faint smirk cross her features. Her knife flipped open with an audible click and she gave a shake of her staff, causing the sword within to slide into place. She could feel the weight of the gun near her middle and the cool blade of her knife-on-a-rope in its holder across the small of her back.
She was ready, minus her costume of course, and now that the zombies had caught her scent it seemed they were ready too.
The first one rushed at her without warning and instantly her arm shot out as she bent her knee and dropped into a crouch. Her sword sliced through the creatures leg and removed it in one stroke. Before he could even fall to the ground she was sliding forward from the momentum and shoving her butterfly knife upward, into his gut. With a twist and a yank, she continued to slide underneath the zombie, between his legs, and surged to her feet on the other side.
Tossing her butterfly knife into the air, she spun on her heel with her gun already in her hand and fired off a single shot into the back of the creature's head. The gun was quickly re-holstered and she reached out, catching her knife instantly before glancing over her shoulder at the rest of the meager horde.
"Show's over, motherfuckers," she announced and, with what could almost pass as a gleeful expression, surged headfirst into the fray without a second's pause.