⊹ graveyard.

@kim namjoon. [ it's alright! < 3 ]

Bodies drop down with each attack Serim does—it would have been fascinating to watch if she had an audience. If the undead is taller than her, she breaks the legs before targetting the head. If the undead is around the same height, her arms would move in muscle memory to aim straight for the brain. Blood splatters onto her face and clothes, but she gives no care—her clothes are already dirty to begin with. She's too quick to diminish the numbers of the horde, and in time, she can finally see the other human. A man with a dog—Serim vaguely notes that in her mind, before her own body reacts on its own to the other's warning. A hand moves over her shoulder, grabbing her gun and she crouches, pulling her gun forward so that the bayonet connected to the rifle meets the face of the undead that stands behind her.

When she feels it connect, she pushes the weapon backwards, the blade digging into the zombie's mouth. She's quick to withdraw it however, and when she turns to face the undead, her bat hits its face first before her eyes can land onto it. Her eyes are wide, unblinking, as she recovers almost immediately to attack a nearby undead. How many has she made drop down by now? She's lost count—it's not as if she's keeping track either. All she knows is she needs to kill, no matter how many enemies there are. She kicks the knee of an undead, and it falls forward. Once it's on the ground, Serim drops the head of her bat on the back of its head, its brain splattering and making a gross mess against the soil.

Her breathing is deep and slow, yet still quite steady. That's the last one she has to kill, and she turns to face the other living being. Her arms hang by her side as she stands by the last undead she killed. The fatigue hasn't reached her yet, she thinks. She has had about a few hours of sleep nightly, but she tries not to sleep as much as she can due to the possibility of simply waking up as an Infected after being bitten in her sleep. But she watches as the other human fight the last undead near his area, attempting to calm the pace of her heart as she does so.

@jo serim. [] its pretty good already pls don't worry about ;-; also sorry for late to start

It was rather something Namjoon had never crossed his mind – another living human being to come forward and make a sudden shocking appearance – it was quite far from his eyesight view since the tiny figure got hidden by the horde. Yet he heard more coming groans and moans of those rotten corpses, keeping him alerted from any distraction and with his dog barking, he had to pat Rocky's head, gesturing him to silent down and sit as he walk toward the approaching horde. Lift up his katana swords, both of them off the hood to begin slashing each of those infected creatures on the front. His facial expression shows that he is focusing on the battle with a large group of enemies, the world's biggest enemies; zombies. The furrowed eyebrows, the pressed lips and the body movements, he reflects the technique combat skills he learned from younger time. He was trained among the soldiers to defend the world as being the next generation to shield the population.

The blood splattered on to his hands as he strip off the magazine books to be easier in carrying up his arms, controlling the swords as he shove one blade in to one of the zombies' stomach that pierced through the guts before dismembering then aiming on the head. Five down, a few more to go. The closer he get, the clearer he perceive on that fellow survivor with tough smash against the brains. Namjoon settles down more number, dodging and attack the head as much as possible. Even kicking to prevent the bite. It continues, until the moment he saw another one traces behind the other survivor – seemingly a feminine based on the long hair – but his attention drawn more to the zombie.

"Watch your back!" He warned. It could be too late to sprint up, he assumed. End up with him darting one of his swords toward the direction of the corpse, pierced through the side of it's skull and collapsing on to the ground.

@kim namjoon. [ hope this is fine lkjlkskljdJSKD ]

Serim has been on her own for three days straight now, she believes if the track she did is correct and updated. She ended up on a detour after she has encountered a horde of the undead days ago, and with the people from the motel having left her behind as she tried to give them enough time, well, she's in charge of her own survival now, she supposes. Her sniper rifle is secured to her back with its bayonet in tact, easy enough to grab if she ever found a use for it mid-battle, and there's a bat in her hand. It seems too heavy at first glance, especially for someone of her stature, but as a woman who has trained with the military since she's incredibly young, this weight is nothing compared to what she used to carry.

While creating a mental map of where the horde would have been by now, if they took on the route she believed they would, a noise reaches her ears. She stops in her tracks, readies the gun in her hand as she continues on her steps, eyebrows furrowing as she comes to realize that while there are certainly the moans and groans of the Infected, this one is a dog—and why the would someone own a dog in the middle of an apocalypse where even the slightest noise would attract them? She clicks her tongue, contemplates whether she should come to the owner's rescue or let them fall to their own demise—

—She breaks into a run, heading to the direction of the graveyard.

When she reaches the location, she exhales quietly and deeply. She's right—the horde really did go the way she thought they would go. So perhaps, this is her fault as well, since she has knowingly caused them to go this way. She can't find the sole human, but the dog's barks are loud and clear. She isn't even certain if the owner hasn't been bitten yet, but the horde wouldn't stay here if they haven't sensed the human. Without another thought, she readies her bat—and smashes the head of the first zombie she comes in contact with.

@jo serim. One hand had been mangled and his right bicep was chewed away exposing the white humerus beneath. It was rather a whole trapping nightmare to children's view, but to Namjoon, he has grown tired and normal to witness such hideous rotten creatures beyond his expectation about the infection that was first spread. By seeing those ripped skins has becoming a part of his routine to encounter one or two, sometimes a group but of course, he'd try not to act foolishly by barging through the horde. He'd always save up emergency plans up his sleeves, learned to act before words and leave the drama for later discussion when everything has cooled down. With his dog accompanied his side, he went on to continue his journey to the south with just walking instead of wasting fuel on the vehicle. Too much works to do, in additional.

As he finished off a few lingering and roaming warm bodies around the entrance with a couple of slashing, keeping the noise down as much as possible to prevent attracting any attention from more enemies to prey on him. Once he had tackled down the last infected by the neck, he was going to stab it on the head when things got rougher with the creature growled out loud and grabbed him on the hand - completely covered with wrapped up magazine book - but he was quick to yank away his arm before anything bad then chop the head off in a blink of an eye. It was already too late to realize his dog, Rocky, has been barking against the incoming guests toward the graveyard, noticing the figures of walking corpses that nearing the spot he stand on. Not one, not two. There are most likely twenty if counted recklessly and terrified of the amount.

"You must be kidding me right now."