28 Bleach Vats Later

[subconmodo]

WHO: Avery Atchison (subconmodo), Imelda Rivera (no_dejare_de_quererte), Héctor (unpocoloco), Peter Parker (made_up_names), Souji Seta (punches_fog), Shuuji Miwa (willnotbeyourneighbour), Ellie Williams (elliexir), Fakir Ansel (schwanenritter), Bumblebee (thebreakfastbug), Orihime Inoue (leekspins)
WHERE: North Dakota
WHEN: January 18th, 2019
WHAT: Obtaining funding for the Academy at the cost of one's dignity. Unless you're in the cleanup group.
WARNINGS: None atm. Will update as they pop up.
Note: Full mission details/plotting can be found Here

To Avery's credit, he had tried to prepare his students for this. The zombies had been the easy part. The corpses were slow and weak and as long as none of them did anything stupid they wouldn't be in danger. Wouldn't help the smell or the grossout factor, but such was life, death, and undeath.

Their clients were another matter entirely.

"It's not death that's going to be our enemy here," Avery had said during the briefing. "It's customer service." And if he wasn't allowed to rip into this bunch of stuck up jerks (literally as well as figuratively), neither was anyone else. He'd let minor acts of passive aggression slide, but that was it. And maybe, just maybe if they were lucky enough, Avery might be able to convince the bigwigs to let one or two of them fire off something or another.

---

The cleanup crew is much luckier. The smell may be worse (rot and burning flesh and whatever scents habe wafted up in the wake of Coldsteel's blow-shit-up-themed office party. Avery looks to be just Abbott on his last legs as he suits up alongside everyone and hands out holy water and runecasters, all the while grumbling about how he needs a pay raise.

Comments

[unpocoloco]

Héctor would not have been disappointed to learn the zombies were nothing to worry about. He wasn't here to try and play hero, not even close. But he hadn't quite understood when customer service was considered the actual problem. His mental image of how facing off against zombies was supposed to go just wasn't allowing the idea of it, and to be honest, even that hadn't been sticking in mind much. His thoughts kept spinning and turning back around to the fact that he made it, he was in America, across the ocean after ten years, just a few states and miles and a border and then some from home, but so much closer than he'd ever been. He'd been all but shaking with nervous excitement on they way here, no doubt earning a few looks. He's made obligations, promises back at Daybreak, but none of them matter when he's this close to home.

But as of only a few minutes being here he realizes exactly what it was that Avery meant. And then some.

Another explosion goes off behind him, rattling him and causing him to once again spill the drinks he's holding up on his tray. He dares look back to see what's left of the wretched thing, still trying to crawl, and he turns quickly away again glad he's got nothing in him to even let him be sick. He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again, trying to purge the overlaying image of his outland familia from his mind and from these things.

He flinches to the sound of a gunshot and what he can recognize to be shattering, splintering bone. But then, in perfect whiplash, he hears one of the clients jeering, "Hey! You going to get us a drink or spill them all over yourself? Come on, hurry it up, so I can take my next shot!"

He sucks a breath, teeth grinding as he walks stiffly towards a laughing trio of them. Despite commenting on how apparently they'll just let anyone into that school, they look right over him as though he's invisible, which is pretty well par for course for these types. He can just imagine how they would sneer at whatever other homeless person living was by the corner with him at any given time or place. Each time he thinks he might be projecting just a bit too thoroughly in his anger and shame, another weapon goes off and rips through the undead, cycling him through back through fear and illness, then anger again. Just a little longer, he thinks to himself. You're this close to home, don't blow this..

There's a tree line just a ways ahead, some shrubbery, a few spots of taller trees standing alone even closer, if still somewhat distant. He's got his old ragged pants and suspenders under his uniform, his old torn jacket too, all of it right for him to change out, make the shift, and run for it. With any luck, no one would even notice or think anything of the skeleton disappearing into woods. After that, Mexico.

Eventually, after serving and flinching and trying not to lose his head in at least three to five different ways, he checks around, leaves the drinks to the grass, and starts walking for that distant tree. He's had about enough.

[subconmodo]

To say that Avery's mood is sour is like saying the sun is a little on the warm side. His hands itch and his nerves scream, begging him to take up a sword or a knife or even a goddamn letter opener and make every single one of the arrogant bastards wish they'd never been born.

He didn't even want their souls. They could rot for all he cared. Surely he could spin it into a valuable learning experience!

Except he'd get fired. Or worse. Likely worse.

And so when he notices that their numbers are off, that one of the students has wandered off, that he has to hunt someone down, he is not in the mood for mercy.

The world around Héctor gets a little darker, the shadows growing a little longer, and Avery slowly rises in front of him, his eyes narrowed, every word pronounced sharp and deliberate. "Where do you think you're going?"

[unpocoloco]

The world gets darker and he starts to slow. He can see the way the shadows stretch, watching with the horror of man who has walked through the outlands and who, despite death, is still mostly just a man.

Dios.

And then Avery appears before him and all he can offer is a laugh and smile full of fear.

Dios Mio, help me.

"¡Hola, Professor! I, uh... I just went to uh... clear... my... head?"

He's going to die. Again.

[subconmodo]

Avery, now fully out of the shadows, takes a few steps closer. "I've had a very, very, very bad day. And do you know what the worst part is? A student, of all things, seems to want to make it even worse by running off on their own."

He stands uncomfortably close. "You wouldn't happen be that student, would you, Héctor?"

[unpocoloco]

He steps back once on instinct but only manages to get that far before fear freezes him in place. He stands perfectly still, looking down at Avery and yet still feeling like a gnat soon to be crushed.

"Ha. Haha... N-no. Of course not. That's..."

He swallows hard.

[subconmodo]

And in an instant he's smiling, a bright, cheerful grin that doesn't even come close to reaching his eyes. Despite his tone, there's an edge behind his words, an unspoken threat all the more underlined by the fact that the Daemon Contracting teacher hasn't bothered to dismiss the darkness around them.

"Great! Glad to see we're all on the same page here. Just wanted to make sure is all. That's what teachers do, eh? Make sure their students don't suffer any accidents out there in the woods?"

[unpocoloco]

"Accidents?" He all but squeaks. He doesn't know what kind of accident he could suffer as someone who's already dead but... he's seen enough in the outlands and beyond to know he has no interest in finding out. There's options.

"Right. Accidents. Of course not."

He doesn't trust that cheerful smile even slightly, still staring nervously at Avery with his heart in his throat.

"That means we're fine, right?

[subconmodo]

"Not quite." He points back to the site they're using as a "base" of sorts. "Not until you march back over there and make yourself at home. We'll even walk together." Avery doesn't budge. He won't until he's certain he has Héctor doing as he's told.

[unpocoloco]

"Oh," He says. It's not the worst outcome to all this but his shoulders definitely sag. "Yeah. Sure," He says like it's not the exact opposite of what he wants to do. He breathes deep and forces himself to move back, feet heavy as lead and heart feeling heavier.

Still, he tries to keep his voice light. "So uh... some mission, huh?"