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[deadlycairn]

"You want scary? Have a conversation with the Lady when the Watchers are on the rampage, someone has made yet MORE magical artifacts, an idiot with too much time on his hands is summoning demons to do his bidding, and I'm off doing something else. Keeping in mind she's the most powerful being in my world of course"

[WorkerDrone]

"Now you see where your problem is there? Theres a Macroverse filled with various gods, perhaps a Macroverse WITHIN a Macroverse filled with millions and millions of beings, sometimes in a collective, sometimes quite alone, filled with beings of huge amounts of power. Its to the point, where the power no longer translates into the mortal version of the word, meaning an ability, or the status of your elitehood. Its quite possible there is a being, or even more likely several hundred thousand beings far more powerful then Me, Strife, You, or your Lady. Even Armok has some political opponets every now and then he can't just blast into oblivion for thirty or so years."

DUN DUN DUN!

"Oh right. Where is that coming from?" The dragon turns briefly to WorkerDrone, saying in a British accent, "You mean you arn't the one making that noise?" The dragon is quiet from here on, no longer speaking to anyone. "No I swear  guys, I'm not the cause of it...hey..." WorkerDrone looks around. "Wern't there...more gods here last time I checked?"

The room looks very dark and empty, walls now enclosed around the gods inside the space rather then oblivion. Theres still a white spot where the dragon is looking through, but he seems as impatiant as ever waiting for...something. "I think there must be...a cadaver on the loose!"

DUN...DUN...DUNNNNNNNNNNN!

[deadlycairn]

I'm immortal, not to mention cursed in various imaginative ways. Death would be a release, as a human I was never designed to be as long living as I am. Show me these 'all-powerful' Gods, I've faced a few in my lifetime, and most have barely been a challenge. The Lady, I revere for but two reasons. One, I've seen what she can do and she has one hell of a short fuse, and two, she's the only one with a guaranteed chance of ending me, since the curse comes under HER jurisdiction.

[inaluct]

"Wait, what's this?!"

Inaluct points to a trail of embalming fluid shimmering in the dim light.

"It seems our mystery cadaver has left us a clue! Who's with me to solve this enigma?"

[WorkerDrone]

WorkerDrone already seems to have a 'detective' like hat on, and an oversized monocle. In a fairly accurate british accent, he states, "I think such a fiendish, mysterious, and deadly a cadaver could be found...in the hall closet!"

[deadlycairn]

"It was done with a pot of embalming fluid, a lot of linen and the Necronomicon!"

[WorkerDrone]

"In the hall closet! Damien is our killer!" *Slapped* "Sorry."

[Strife26]

The music abruptly changes to the Camelot song.

"We're knights of the rounds table, we sing . . ."

"Sorry."

The suspenfulish music returns.

[inaluct]

"We need to be careful, Detective! That cadaver could be armed!"

Inaluct pulls out an old fashioned revolver and pulls The Lady up against him. She swoons. Just like in a mystery movie made any time between 1910 and 1960 in the United States!

[deadlycairn]

As the Lady is yanked towards Inaluct

((the name 'Lady' comes from my lack of good naming skills, not any ladylike personality traits on her part. She is irritable violent, and more than a little unhinged, especially after almost obliterating the only other deity from her realm, which was also a personification of magic, leaving her with only half a floor upstairs, if you get my drift ))
she falls right through him, slightly puzzled as how her illusion could be yanked in the first place. Damien just smiles wolfishly and unslings a rifle from a shoulder holster that you coulda sworn wasn't there 10 seconds ago.

[Strife26]

Strife calmly draws his Mark 15

(Since when does a rifle need a sling AND a holster)

[deadlycairn]

((Creative imagery on my part, and Damien ain't used to these darn new-fangled boom-sticks ))

[WorkerDrone]

(Boomsticks?...*Twitch* Did you say? Boombsticks?)

WorkerDrone stands up on a car that just COULDN'T have been there a second before. He pulls out what could only be called...a 'boomstick'.

"Alright you Primitive Screwheads, listen up! You see this? This... is my boomstick! The twelve-gauge double-barreled Remington. S-Mart's top of the line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right, this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Retails for about a hundred and nine, ninety five. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel, and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop smart. Shop S-Mart. You got that?"

[deadlycairn]

Ignoring WorkerDrone's rants, Damien, lifts the gun to his shoulder, aims, and fires into the distance. You hear a faint moaning noise

"I think i found the cadaver"

[Kashyyk]

The closet shudders, and the doors burst open. Out comes the cadavar, as dead and decrepid as you would expect.

But one thing was wrong. You could have sworn that the thing was smiling, and you realise now why it was. Another Cadavar steps out of the closet, and another, and another. They just keep coming.

Inaluct was the first to realise what was going on and started firing, quickly followed by the rest.

Over the thunder of booms you can hear the dreadful, moaning, wailing sound that signifies the beggining of a zombie rush.