5495/Thousand Faces: Blood Lines

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Thousand Faces: Blood Lines
Date of Scene: 08 March 2021
Location: Brooklyn
Synopsis: Zombies prowling through the city end up put down, at the expense of an innocent car. Poor Charger!
Cast of Characters: Jane Foster, Daisy Johnson, Lance Hunter, Koga Miura, James Barnes




Jane Foster has posed:
The 73rd Precinct spans Brownsville, a neighbourhood smackdab in the middle of Brooklyn. Back in Captain Rogers' day, it was every bit as poor and socially disadvantaged as it is now. It's changed some, though the old tenement buildings swept out in the 50s and 60s in favour of public housing blocks that seethe with crime, concentrated multigenerational poverty, and a distorted view of the American Dream. Rockaway Avenue slices straight through the mostly residential neighbourhood, flanked by struggling businesses and vacant storefronts.

Night harbours very different difficulties than daytime hours. A few cars idling along the block rarely move along and they're a cut above the beater-boxes the other residents have. Streetlights cast a grey pallor over grim brick projects. The only sign something is rather off comes from a masculine shout cut ominously short with a gurgle, the retort of gunfire pop-pop-popping down an alleyway.

Another youth goes racing for the 277 Grocery. Its door lies ahead, within reach. Hands reach out to take the handle, but something else slides forth from the barred windows. A gasping shriek doesn't leave his mouth.

SHIELD. 15 minutes earlier.
The police commissioner of the 73rd District expresses his frustration in uncommonly blunt terms. Commissioner Rivera isn't as cool as Gordon, but the Puerto Rican sounds snappy over the phone. "Read the reports yourself. My officers can't explain it any better than I can. The footage we have isn't great but it's very clear these two boys were shot dead in the street. I have coroners reports, families wanting burial. Now that poor fellow holed up in the bodega is telling me he sees one of them outside ripping into the Young Goons? Verified dead, bagged and tagged, and he's out there with a gun. This is your jurisdiction, not mine, but we can't turn into a Romero film out there. See for yourself in the files. That boy loses three pints of blood in the street and half a lung. That boy is now terrorizing Sutter Avenue."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
The call wasn't exactly uncommon. People saw weird stuff all the time now, sometimes it was false positives but .., when it was the commissioner calling, even if not as cool as Gotham's finest, it meant serious business. Serious enough that it warranted a team to go into the field. And with it involving powers, it was time to get that new lanyard to work.

Daisy gathered up with a team to move in. No quinjets this time. It was in New York afterall! So a van would suffice. And there's noone to stop her from driving. Muahahaah!

So she is driving up the road to where the young goons turf is, up towards Sutter Avenue.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter was glad for the mission even if it was on his bloody birthday, definitely better than sitting around drinking beers on Mack's couch. Besides the man was asking too many questions Hunter couldn't answer, so a bit of weirdness in the city was just what the doctor ordered.

"So what do we think this is?" he asks the team. "I've got the first round at the Swordfish after this it's aliens, any takers?"

He asks as they drive towards Sutter Avenue.

Koga Miura has posed:
    Unfortunately, that just leaves a puzzle that Koga is not ready to handle perhaps. That has him on call, with something about bullets and zombies. The zombies part has him a tad confused until he's reminded of popular movies and that has him looking at other WAND operatives and going "That's real, too?"

    And then he's told to use his motorcycle to get there quicker. That has him going down the highway at least at insane speeds before stopping outside of the precinct. Getting off of his motorcycle after turning it off and parking it, he starts to look around as he pulls off his helmet.

    No one told him about the van, after all, and he's got his own ride. Motorcycles are way, way cooler after all. Especially when you can disregard traffic laws when it's an emergency and do some insane things with it.

    That does lead him to heading for the gunfire, however, and his rather keen eyes look around, trying to figure out what is going on and just why he has a slightly bad feeling about this.

Jane Foster has posed:
Sutter Avenue effectively becomes a roadblock ahead of Rockaway that runs north-south. Daisy encounters little traffic up til the point she starts getting looks from the few locals around. A parked car on the side of Rockaway peels off, the tinted windows so dark that they blot out the driver. Someone slouched low in their seat with a hand on the wheel, smoothly positioning himself astraddle on the chipped median. For her to go past invites being clipped by the black car.

The car shows no signs of slowing or speeding up until SHIELD turns around or parks immediately. If they do, their insurers will grumble. Somehow.

It might be possible to spot 277 Supermarket on the corner by its blue and white awning. The door stays shut, the ads for Dos Equis and cheap bread barely spotted. The light shifts, and the youth fallen to the gutter is dragged back, pulled stumbling over the pavement, to another quasi-derelict apartment block.

Smarter maybe to go on foot, even if it's slower. Not many lights show in the apartment blocks or shorter brownstones. Every door Koga goes past is battered, most barred. Almost every window is treated the same if it's at ground level. No cats in sight, but a dog's low growl emits from behind a shut door. Further on, a deep, unhappy whine from another. Shadows ripple and bubble as they weave through the alleyways. Someone leans against the entrance to one in the direction of the gunfire, loitering like people tend to in this place. Drivers keep watch, spaced out like the sentries they are.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
This is getting spookier by the minute, Daisy frowning as she looks out the window to the surroundings. A look is given to Lance, "No betting for me. Eyes sharp though." she parks the van close by, hitting the brakes so as to not be hit by the car. Damn Saturday night drivers! But it was a good hint that it was time to go on foot. "Lets get out and go on foot now." she announces to the what was effectively a team of two because she orders Davis to, "Stay in, keep comms up and coordinate. Need an observer from afar. We will go in."

Poor Davis, being left behind.

A look to Hunter when they get out, "Central were saying there's another agent on the scene. Can you try and reach him on comms?" and then she begins to get closer to the place, reaching for her ICER and drawing it.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"Yes ma'am," Hunter says with a smile and jaunty salute for Daisy who now bloody out ranks him. Not that he minds too much. Everyone knows field agent is where the fun is.

He piles out of the van checking over his ICER before moving to follow Daisy, covering her back as they move up the street. "Anyhow, I'm still saying aliens bet or no bet," he says carrying on the discussion. It's what he does, talk, especially when he's trying to keep his mind off of something like the disaster that is the current state of his relationship.

Koga Miura has posed:
    Koga moves ot the shadows, carefully as he looks around. Spotting where the youth was dragged, he decides that perhaps he should at least scare the hell out of the drivers.

    While not sneaky, he at least is assured his face is pretty well obscured. And he brings his watch up as he goes to comms, "SHIELD, I'm at 277 Supermarket. Investigating possible disturbance not related to the gang war. Transforming to check. Do not shoot the samurai."

    His hands tighten hard enough that there is almost the sounds of bones cracking for a moment as he lowers them to his side. A sudden glow of gold appears around his waist, a green something appearing in the center of it. Followed by a shifting as more of that golden glow appears, in trace amounts. Tracing something in the darkness that makes the figure of Koga taller.

    By the time a few seconds have passed, Koga's body has been engulfed by blackness not of the shadows he's using to obscure himself. But something else as the tracing gold is filled in by something. The sound giving off that of more bones cracking, growing, and becoming something else completely. What emerges from the shadows is easy to decide on not being human at all. It's at least seven feet tall at the tip of the horns, looks like a samurai. And growls at the drivers. It's flat out terrifying and probably looks like it might consider them lunch.

    Stepping closer to the drivers, Koga flexes his fingers, looking at them before he turns to head around the corner of the Supermarket and find what dragged off the youth.

Jane Foster has posed:
Field agent is where the fun is, and specialists end up writing more AARs. Such will ever be the mysterious ways of bureaucracy. Sutter Avenue rounds to Rockaway, the main drag, where literally dark shadows drag an unwilling soul out of sight.

Muffled protests avail the unfortunate youth nothing, for the choked-off noises soon become a great deal quieter. He hunches on the apartment's front steps beneath a bank of beaten-up names, indicating residents circa 1976. Lance and Daisy should have no trouble spotting his unmoving form in that protective stance.

The drivers in their cars don't lift a finger to help. What one does is throw the transmission from park to drive when a bizarre horned figure gets in the way. It growls, and so does the Hemi engine in that souped-up Charger. With all the subtlety of a hand grenade in a barrel of oatmeal, the driver floors the accelerator, sending a thunderous growl down the road. Headlights flash in LED strobes weakened to a pale blue, and the driver swings his big sports box of death on four wheels right at Koga. He might not have much of a chance to assay the road before being flattened, possibly.

The guy by the alley isn't really that impressed by Daisy or Lance. He hardly bothers them when he can instead slouch off the wall and mosey. Give a half-block and he stares at a barred window, then proceeds to try and rip that off. Glass shatters. A woman screams. More gunshots. Just a day in paradise.

For the damned.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"There we go.." Daisy says as the comms light up with Koga revealing his involvement. She smiles faintly and looks at Lance, "I vote there is at least one samurai involved in the situation." See? Betting with knowledge of cause! "And you know, aliens are all about doing weird symbology in corn fields, and being scared of water." yes, she saw the movie. But she understands the need for talk. It's good to take the mind off what they may be finding further ahead, or outside problems.

"Acknowledged. Agent Johnson and Hunter are moving in." She says over on comms before getting her weapon levelled again, aimed low. It's when she spots Koga further ahead, gesturing as if to signal they are coming in before spotting....

What is that? A zombie?

"SHIELD Agents. Stand down!" Not that she waits that long because she then shoots at the 'person' with her ICER. She aims to the head.

Maybe Lance's shoot first, ask questions later is starting to rub off on her.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"That was a horrible movie," Hunter remarks clearly getting the reference and giving Daisy's shoulder a nudge in thanks for being a pal and bantering with him. "And that's one for alien samurai," he says with a nod.

"Make that alien samurai zombies?" Hunter amends when he sees the guy ripping at the bars. When Daisy shoots he follows up with two more shots of his aimed for center mass, ICER rounds of course, but he's got his back up piece if things get nasty.

Koga Miura has posed:
    Koga's mind is clouded a bit, and the incoming threat before he can find another one gets his full attention as he braces himself.

    The incoming car will of course meet the monster samurai head on. The question is, which is stronger and how much room does Koga have to slide now? He's not about to let some measely car move him. And after a few moments of movement, his feet dig in. Growling as he looks over the hood at the driver, his hands tighten in the bumper.

    And he starts to heave as he tries to literally flip the car over. Literally.

    Then he looks around, "Anyone else want to explain their car upside down?" He calls out, his voice a growling tone. Then he turns to head towards where he saw that youth being dragged off again.

Jane Foster has posed:
Aliens in Brownsville? Maybe the kind who don't have official paperwork to their name. More associated with dealing on the side or menial labour than cornfields, and scared of ICE than water. Daisy's bound to be particularly disappointed if she wants little grey men with big black eyes.

How about dark-skinned men wielding a metal grate with big black eyes? Once the shot ganger has his grate in hand, he turns with it gripped firmly like a protective barrier. Fat lot of good against an ICER -that- does. The toxic blast from the agent knocks him back. Lance knocks him over.

All's well that ends well. Until he starts to shudder vaguely. A flat, wet bolt of shadow with the sticky consistency of a bubble tea boba -- tarry, gooey, chewy -- comes flying for the pair of them, an arcing trajectory that suggests /up/, not flat on the ground.

Then a door slams open from another car. Out comes another of the Young Bloods. His jaw is clearly dislocated and one of his fingers is obviously missing, but that's no problem when he just charges.

Meanwhile, the Charger rams into the samurai and simple Newtonian physics gets a lot more complicated. Steel crumples as Koga is shoved back against the pavement, a dent forming in the vehicle. He tries to pull it over, with the driver slamming the accelerator flat, forcing the pair of them into something of a fishtailing sort of war. Lifting the front wheels up is going to be difficult, forcing them down perhaps more natural but still plowing the Charger into him. Either way, steel heats and rubber squeals, and he's not walking away quite yet.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
The black eyes sort of give it away. So Daisy isn't exactly expecting the man to STAY down. Not after the commissioner's report too! But a non-aggressive manner to stop this had to be tried. With it failing, and the one being shot retributing by shooting some shadowy goo in their direction it seems clear they won't be getting out of this with words or non-lethal ways. "Watch out!" she calls out to Lance, jumping out of the way and putting the ICER away..

It was time for some powers. She assesses the surroundings, letting her own powers take over as she senses around her, namely heartbeats, trying to understand if these people may still be alive or not. "I think I'd prefer aliens at this point, Hunter!"

She focuses on the one that's running at them. The fingerless one. One hand lifts towards him and she lets her powers rip out and through, a concussion blast send it's way to try and keep it down.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter doesn't need to be told twice to duck as the boba tea of evil (so you know, like regular boba tea) fly their way. Hunter dives out the way, rolls and comes up shooting intent on emptying the ICER clip into this guy if it's what stops him, and brings an end to the flying 'boba balls'.

"Bloody hell," he grumbles. "What a birthday."

Jane Foster has posed:
Bones and sinews reinforced by death have a funny way of handling vibrations in the air or the ground; they really don't. Limbs ragdoll every which way when Daisy lives up to her codename. Now Flaily Jones is on his way to stumble and jerk through the air. He hits the ground with a sick thud, bone breaking. More ICER shots at him -- as an immediate target, rather than the first shot zombie getting to his feet -- keep Lance from having the absolutely worst birthday ever.

However, they're both on ground level. Whoever is shooting them sucks because THAT person does it from a window. Or a rooftop. No cape, this ain't Gotham, but apparently the glowy shot works to make someone question their choices in life.

Or not. After a count of sixty seconds, it starts to rain more of that ichorous boba doom in splats flung in a vertical funnel, widest end facing the ground. In the immortal words of Trinity, "Dodge this."

Koga Miura has posed:
    Koga continues to push against the Charger, then groans as he realizes something. Wheels aren't coming off that easily, so instead he braces the car against his chest as it fishtails, and tries to get a hold of the bumper in an underhanded grip rather than his hands on the top of the bumper.

    He just hopes it's not a four wheel drive, else he might actually get run over as he tries to lift the front wheels off of the pavement.

    It's definitely an interesting experience at least for Koga. He comments over the comms, "Never thought I'd be... trying to flip... a car." He gives a groan as he pushes against the car again. "How... you doing... over there?"

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"No heartbeats on anyone!" Daisy announces, a glance around. "Nor on the ones inside the cars either..!" this to Koga's benefit. Though there's sort of a wicked little delight at how vibrations work on these undead. Who knew? Certainly not Daisy, she hadn't tried it on bodies before. She isn't sick like that!

Another spasm, and another blob shot about. She moves out of the way, delivering another 'quake' specialty to the one she had downed. Just to make sure they *stay* down.

And to break some more bones. She does wonder if it will be able to move with all of it's bones broken up. So she intensifies it, frowning. "Can you help out Koga, Hunter?" she asks.

Jane Foster has posed:
A four-wheel-drive sports car isn't so common. When it's clear that the car is coming off the ground, the driver isn't so stupid to actually keep ramming empty air. He scrambles out the passenger's side door with at least a vestige of self-preservation or raw, sheer hate for the samurai. Which one will it be?

The door swings open as the car suddenly starts to lose momentum with no one pressing on the gas. Koga will have to deal with the reduced speed on his own, twisting, churning the unwieldy object end over end. The driver goes flying-falling out the side, arms over his head protectively. Wheeled over, he lands on the ground and rises. No more problem with the car? The next best thing is throwing whatever is at hand!

Hello Brooklyn Car Sales magazine, a crappy weekly flyer in an actual old-fashioned newsbox. All three weeks of papers AND the plastic box are hurled at the samurai. Next up, a trash can.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter puts the ICER away and draws his backup piece with lethal rounds, "This is about all the help I've got," he says, sixteen rounds of help anyhow. "There's no heartbeat?" he asks Daisy to confirm before opening up on their heads. Though that's before the boba rain comes down and sends Hunter rollning into an alley to avoid it. "What in the bloody hell is that?"

Koga Miura has posed:
    Koga deals with the car the easy way. He lifts it up, flips it over, and drops it. Then there's... trash being flung at him? Not even the trash can seems to phase him as he moves around to reach in and turn the car off.

    Looking at the problem, he comments, "Car handled. Watch for black eyed individuals. They apparently can drive. Not sure what is causing this. You two need assistance?"

    The driver seems to be pretty harmless, but Koga moves towards him anyways. He reaches to try to grab at the driver and just lift him off the ground. Time to see if he can see marks or something on it, if he can catch it anyways.

Jane Foster has posed:
Blue sparks meet black swirling light, and in effect create a blobby, questionable blueberry ready to harm the nearest person. The tapioca balls of necrotic energy don't last long but they sure suck for anyone who wanders into them. Splatter on a window leaves the cowering tenants of the apartment where one lands running for the back bedroom. Their cries are audible through cardboard-thin walls.

The squishy rain is an unpleasant thing; get hit by it and the skin feels rather numb, cooled by little needles of life energy plucked away. Great way to feel terrible.

Koga's left a rather new, now damaged sports car tipped upside down. Great way to earn the wrath of the locals. Those who won't bother throwing detritus at him, tearing up trash cans and flinging a nonstop parade of debris have another way of handling it. Gun? Might work on a samurai, sort of ended their era altogether in Japan. Up with the Meiji, down with the era of the daimyo? Either way, someone fires.

The driver flinging things at Koga shows at least some canniness, moving quick. Grabbing him won't be easy unless Daisy plays 'Ragdoll Physics Quaking' again, and either way, another black bolt flies at the tall, pointy-horned man.

Lance is probably sharp enough to hear the rattle-groan of a fire escape not far off...

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"No idea, but have a bad feeling on what happens if they hit us." Daisy replies to Lance, moving away from another shadowy bolt, a frown when she notes some of them hitting windows where innocents might be inside, "Better that they focus on shooting at us than not though.." and with having turned the fingerless one into a little ragdoll she appears satisfied. At least if it stops shooting bolts. "And stay down..." she murmurs.

Another look over, "We are okay for now. Lance is getting new memories for his birthday." she says over comms to Koga. She spots the trash-can tosser hassling on Koga. So that one receives a little jolt of quaking to make it more pliable for some Koga-smash.

"We need to disable them fully. Maybe a sword? Or a fire axe somewhere?" she suggests to the other two. No zombie works without their head that she is aware of!

Koga Miura has posed:
    The gunshot pings off of the armor of Koga. He tilts his head, then moves to grab the tosser. Clue finding as to why these things are being zombies would be a nice one!

    The shooting from the locals has Koga turning and yelling out, "Hey! We are trying to stop some zombies from ruining your neighborhood! Shoot me again and I will toss this one at you to see if it turns you into one!"

    Of course, if he did grab said zombie, he's probably shaking it in the air and not realizing it. But being shot at kinda gets annoying even if they have to aim and get lucky shots to really hurt him.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"Funny that, me too," Hunter says of being hit by the balls of goo. He keeps moving, letting Daisy handle the hard work with her quake powers while he catches the sound of the fire escape coming down. He moves towards it calling out to Daisy. "Might be something in need of some quakeing," he tells her as he advances.

James Barnes has posed:
This was supposed to be a day off. He was just out, visiting old haunts in Brooklyn, seeing if memories would shake loose. The dog and the bike are at home in the Triskelion, and Buck himself coming in to town like any other commuter.

But his phone's gone off, now that he's listed as being in range to help, and there's the crackle of that rather deadpan voice joining their comms, "Barnes here. Zombies, huh?" Like an exterminator inquiring about just what species of wasp they have to get out of the attic.

Jane Foster has posed:
The black-eyed gangster dresses like just about everyone else around here, not much telling him apart. He has damage, scars that aren't quite knit, but they hardly slow him down. Neither is his body particularly cold, just lukewarm, so punching Koga or clawing at him isn't out of keeping either. Well, until the jarring resonance interrupts things and a coordinated assault isn't so easy.

The others rustled up from some weird alleys are hard to trace -- they come from more than one direction. Young men, to a man, which gives four more to add to the fray. They move like they learned to fight, all boxing moves of various sorts, and in death that skill is not much changed from life.

Shots from the window come from someone with both hands clamped around a pistol. The protests earn a muttered retort, and when the clip is empty, time to reload. Apparently giant samurai rattling their neighbours ain't cool.

On the fire escape, a lean figure in a very unremarkable Miami Heat jacket ducks his head low and scoots to get away from a building with the grate ripped off a window. He's not far from Lance or Daisy. Getting a clean bead on him might be harder for Bucky given the tangle of buildings, but someone willing to flat out run away from trouble can't be bad. Right?

Daisy Johnson has posed:
<<Barnes! Right on the nick of time!>> Daisy says on comms, <<Zombies indeed, careful as some shoot some ectoplasmic stuff, don't let it hit you.>> She advises before turning at Lance calling her over. She runs over, moving into the alley as well even as more zombies appear to be popping out.

<<Koga, we are following on a lead. Let us know if it gets too hot. Barnes is on the way too.>> Her eyes roam and search and she focuses on the one running away, frowning. She lets her senses extend again to check for a heartbeat on the lean figure before she says, "SHIELD Agents! Stand down! We won't hurt you." but the nod she gives Lance is one that tells he is free to shoot him with an ICER if the man doesn't comply! He's a better shot afterall.

Koga Miura has posed:
    Koga looks over at the incoming zombies. Then comments, "I can take most of what they dish out. I doubt they have military grade hardware. I do not see any recognizable marks nor other such on the victims. And I have no idea if they are actually dead as well."

    He looks considerate, then sighs as he adopts a boxing-like stance of his own. "What are my orders in this case? No heart beat means they should be dead, correct?"

James Barnes has posed:
It's like a grayhound with that stupid plastic rabbit at the track. Instincts kick in before conscious brain has time to form much of an opinion. A sniper fires and moves, fires and moves, if he intends to live through a given battle....and something about the man in the Heat jacket twigs Buck's gut feeling that there is no civilian. <<Will do. Got someone trying to flee the scene, might be someone involved...>> He can't yet put a (metal?) finger on what about the fleeing figure is calling his attention. Trusting on that to justify itself later.

Jane Foster has posed:
Shouting 'SHIELD agent' doesn't invest a lot of faith into the shooter in the apartment, if he could hear. The one fleeing for safety has a heartbeat, which Daisy can convey, and a bit of a startled look when he turns. The guy isn't old, probably further from thirty than twenty, and his face slick with sweat. ICERs don't mean much unless they glow like weapons, but he slows without stopping entirely. "Crazy, lady? You see tha' big freaking thing out there, throwing cars? I ain't staying here, do you wanna die?"

The right balance of disbelief and survivor's rancor apply, though he waves a hand swiftly where Lance is. "You too? You be telling her to run if you got sense!" He tries to keep a wall or two between him and the street. Maybe that dumpster will hide him. He's at least not running from the agents. Bucky can weave his way around the various low-rise apartment blocks, fewer of them higher than four or five stories. The social housing towers are another matter, but like battleships, probably immune to a zombie.

Bonk! An incoming zombie tears out part of a bench and uses the wooden planks as a makeshift club. Not military grade, not really. The other two circle, a weirdly wolfish flanking motion.

Lance Hunter has posed:
The young guy in the jacket is boxed in so Lance calls out, "Stay put," he tells himf firmly. He taps his ear to speak on comms << Anyone seeing a big thing throwing cars around here? >> trying to verify the guy's story before he tries to take him down.

Koga Miura has posed:
    Koga ends up well... bonked. That has him turning to look at the one with a piece of the bench. And just trying to punch him.

Over the comms, he says, "Hello. Big thing throwing cars around here. How may I help you?"

Then he proceeds to get into the fight. Punching and kicking zombies, long as he sees those black eyes. They be dangerous!

James Barnes has posed:
Well, good luck on any zombie foolish enough to try and bite an arm made of alloy. Teeth will be broken. Trying to be as stealthy as he can, not that most are going to be paying attention to a fairly ordinary-looking young man in plain clothes. <<You ever get into contests with Hulk?>> he wonders, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

Jane Foster has posed:
Punching and kicking zombies should put them done. Something remotely strong as Koga would. Broken bones, staved in ribs... but Commissioner Rivera of the 73rd wasn't kidding. They fall. They are surely injured. And they absolutely do not lack for persistence, getting right back up in time to be stomped down again. Stabbing, punching, bullet to the brainpan: that's the name of the game.

"Uh," says the guy in the Miami Heat jacket. "Cool. We just keep moving this way? Seriously, man, that's not what you want to be around." Lance has a slow moving gesture aimed at him, a hurry up kind of thing. Look, it's dangerous, right?

A chance for the zombie to bite Bucky is just too good to pass up. If he gets close, he gets chomped. If that fails to connect, the fourth one hanging back belches out a blob of black goo and throws it. Might have been his kidney.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter makes a face when it's confirmed the car throwing thing is one of them. "It's okay kid, get clear," he tells the guy in the Heat jacket. "We'll deal with things from here," he says before hustling away to close in on the action. << Good to know, Mate >> he tells Koga. "So what's the status on the zombies?" he asks moving to join the others, following the sounds of Koga doing the zombie stomp as he winds his way through the alleys.

Koga Miura has posed:
    Koga just stares at the zombies. Then he considers before there's another cracking sound, much like when he transformed. A small growl is given before... a bow and arrows seem to just grow out of his back?

    Koga huffs as he reaches back, apparently assuming it was something else until he pulls out the bow. "... sure. Now this thing decides to play around."

    Koga moves to get some distance, punching any unforunate zombie out of the way. And uses his leaping distance to get some clearance, hopefully. Bow is not what he wanted, but it's what he has. So... yep. Time to see if zombies get up from arrows if he can get enough distance to shoot them!

James Barnes has posed:
Bucky does get bit. That leather jacket is now a goner. Happily, it's the metal arm the zombie's gotten hold of.....and Buck turns it in the creature's grasp, trying to seize its throat and smash it against a convenient wall. I find your lack of faith disturbing, etc. Barnes's expression is oddly clinical, considering....and the look in his eyes isn't much more human than that of the zombie. Winter ascendant and curious, looking out.

Jane Foster has posed:
With a surprised upnod to Lance, the Miami Heat-packing guy runs off into the night. He knows his way around. Easy for him to dodge past a dumpster and rush further into Brownsville. He's happy to rush elsewhere.

Punching will clear a path. Shooting, a little more effective, though unless those arrows are enchanted they seem only to be an annoyance. Getting a direct headshot or zapping something with ICER-toxin rounds might be more of the way to go. Koga has one running in circles around him, eager to swipe something. But a punch, a slash; these are the curses of the unliving. Strength and the purposeful strikes of an assassin-trained fighter, a samurai, and just a bit of luck seem to even the odds.

After a few minutes, they have a few corpses lying about. Re-corpsed?

Never mind two of them fell at exactly the same time. Never mind that all of them are branded the same by a weird snake and a 816.