Hey do you guys think about Alec Hardison im thinking about Alec Hardison lets all take a moment to think about Alec Hardison in fact we should always be thinking of Alec Hardison
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You know what. Parker never got to commit enough arson on the show. They should let her blow more stuff up. Its enrichment for her. Get on that john rogers
Messaging people for the first time is so hard. What am I supposed to say? Like, "You seem really odd and your blog intrigues me. Do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters?" What! Whatever. I will just follow you back and stare at your blog with my big beautiful brown eyes.
Reblog if you're okay with people coming into your DMs with the "you seem really odd and your blog intrigues me, do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters"
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Remember when Hot Topic released a “Castiel” shirt and ppl were immediately like “um actually that picture is NOT Castiel that’s Jimmy Novak”? That’s how I feel about Leverage pictures sometimes like why is this even tagged Sophie Devereaux when that’s clearly Annie Kroy
I don’t like zombies or video games or typing on my phone but I saw a poll about this and it ate away at my brain until I did something about it. @what---i-dated-a YOU like zombies and video games, I hope you like this.
They were safe, for now. They’d managed to barricade themselves in a breakroom. Even mad scientists needed a breakroom. Tables, chairs, a microwave, a refrigerator, a bulletin board with a set of standard-issue OSHA printouts pinned to it. Two more doors, one to a bathroom, one to a supply room. But most importantly, leftover food in the fridge, some of it still edible, and an unused first aid kit in a drawer.
While Eliot checked the others over and fixed up their injuries — all minor sprains and cuts, thank God — Nate rifled through the shelves of the supply room. The break room might look normal enough, but he was sure in a place like this that there would be more than staplers and ink cartridges back here. He was right.
“Eliot, I need you in here when you’re done.”
He leaned forward against the shelf, head resting on his left arm, eyes closed. The right arm hung limp. He tried to breathe himself through the pain. It wasn’t working. It had to work.
“You okay?”
He hadn’t heard Eliot come in, hadn’t even realized he’d been waiting long enough for him to get here. “Yeah, yeah, fine,” he said as he straightened up, and then reached up and turned off his earbud. He nodded to Eliot, who frowned but followed his lead.
The door was ajar, but not enough for the others to see, and they were making enough noise not to hear anything as they busied themselves with pilfering the cupboards and finding out if the microwave worked. Nate shrugged off his coat.
“Dammit, Nate.”
The shirt underneath was a bloody tatter. The wound near his shoulder was ragged, a sickly purple-green already spreading out around it. Any of the others would have pretended it wasn’t obvious what it was, or would have insisted that it probably wasn’t bad enough, or turned to any number of other bullshit ways to lie to themselves. That was one of the reasons it had to be Eliot. He needed to skip the denial and get right to the point.
“How much time do I have?”
“It’s not like I’m an expert in —“
“Well, you’re the closest thing we’ve got.” Never know when you’ll need to fight a zombie, Eliot had said earlier, as they all stared at the shovel in his hands and the decapitated thing that shouldn’t have existed on the ground at his feet. “How much time?” Nate asked again.
“Shit, man, I don’t know, if it was just the arm maybe we could tourniquet it, slow it down—“
“But it’s not. I need a number, Eliot.”
“Less than a day. Maybe twelve hours, tops. Probably less.”
“Okay, good, so Plan A is twelve. That’s enough, we can get this done.”
“Get this done? You’re not seriously gonna try to finish the job? No, Hardison has the files on the antidote research, we just have to get him to a lab, he can finish it —“
“Yeah, and while we’re wasting our time on that, the guys who made this happen are getting away and covering it up and starting it all over again someplace else. Next time it’ll be worse. So yeah, we finish the job. And no, we don’t tell them, because they’ll say exactly what you just said, only the difference is they won’t listen when I tell them no.”
For a moment he thought he had misjudged, that maybe Eliot wasn’t going to listen either. His face twisted up into an awful but inscrutable expression, he tensed like he was going to yell or hit something or maybe even break down. But then his shoulders relaxed, he bit his lip and nodded and all he said was “Right. Okay.”
There was one more reason why it had to be Eliot. Nate turned back to the shelves behind him. As he had hoped, a corporation on this level of evil had to at least be aware of the fact that something might one day go so wrong that it couldn’t be fixed with briefcases and documents in triplicate, and they had stocked the supply closet accordingly. The whole back wall was racks hung with guns and shelves stacked with ammo. Eliot might be the expert, but Nate knew as well as anyone what you needed for this. He pulled a shotgun off the wall and held it out. Eliot reached for it automatically, but he didn’t pull it away. And so they stood for a moment, face to face, both their hands on the weapon they held between them.
“I can get us there,” Nate promised. “I can beat them. But when it happens, I need to know you’ll do it.”
In the next room, the microwave dinged. The smell of popcorn drifted in to them, along with snippets of conversation. Sophie was displeased with the food selection. Hardison was ranking his favorite zombie movies based on “realism,” now that he’d seen the real thing. Parker was still trying to figure out why they needed to steal an umbrella.
Eliot wrenched the shotgun out of his hands and turned away from him.
I do actually have a half-plotted file somewhere on a flash drive titled Let's Go Steal A Zombie Apocalypse but it was more me seeing all the fix-it fics in the Leverage tag and being like "The Crew would be so much better at doing a post-zombie outbreak town than anyone on The Walking Dead."
Anyway, I really like this take on a Leverage Zombie AU. Also on your tags,
your gut was correct this is absolutely Resident Evil. They would be one of the top best candidates for a crossover like this, if not the best.
A sillier less angsty version of this would have to include how they found the lab because to my knowledge (almost?) all the Umbrella labs are like. Hidden underneath mansions or in a castle and accessible only through bizarre puzzle entrances.
You're totally right. I think she would freeze up when it happens but the second he moves her reflexes would kick in. She would probably shove Nate out of the way first and then go for the shot. I also like the idea of them being alone; she gets up high somewhere he can't reach and gives herself a minute to center herself before doing it.
Sophie I think could do it, but it would require nobody else getting to it first, which probably is not going to happen, because of the above. If they were alone she'd manage it, but he's definitely going to get a good swipe in first. She's not frozen so much as in denial. It takes the real danger of a near miss to get her to do it.
Hardison, I think, freezes long enough that he gets himself bit before he gets the shot off. Which is why Eliot makes sure they're never alone after he's bit; he knows he can't risk it.
All of these are dependent on the turn being very fast, because otherwise it'll be handled before he gets up. He'll make sure they know how much time they have. I think he'd also consider leaving them so he's not risking them at all, but decide against it because he doesn't want to be a danger to anyone else. Also dependent on him not being able to take care of himself before dying in the first place, because he will if he can.
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I don’t like zombies or video games or typing on my phone but I saw a poll about this and it ate away at my brain until I did something about it. @what---i-dated-a YOU like zombies and video games, I hope you like this.
They were safe, for now. They’d managed to barricade themselves in a breakroom. Even mad scientists needed a breakroom. Tables, chairs, a microwave, a refrigerator, a bulletin board with a set of standard-issue OSHA printouts pinned to it. Two more doors, one to a bathroom, one to a supply room. But most importantly, leftover food in the fridge, some of it still edible, and an unused first aid kit in a drawer.
While Eliot checked the others over and fixed up their injuries — all minor sprains and cuts, thank God — Nate rifled through the shelves of the supply room. The break room might look normal enough, but he was sure in a place like this that there would be more than staplers and ink cartridges back here. He was right.
“Eliot, I need you in here when you’re done.”
He leaned forward against the shelf, head resting on his left arm, eyes closed. The right arm hung limp. He tried to breathe himself through the pain. It wasn’t working. It had to work.
“You okay?”
He hadn’t heard Eliot come in, hadn’t even realized he’d been waiting long enough for him to get here. “Yeah, yeah, fine,” he said as he straightened up, and then reached up and turned off his earbud. He nodded to Eliot, who frowned but followed his lead.
The door was ajar, but not enough for the others to see, and they were making enough noise not to hear anything as they busied themselves with pilfering the cupboards and finding out if the microwave worked. Nate shrugged off his coat.
“Dammit, Nate.”
The shirt underneath was a bloody tatter. The wound near his shoulder was ragged, a sickly purple-green already spreading out around it. Any of the others would have pretended it wasn’t obvious what it was, or would have insisted that it probably wasn’t bad enough, or turned to any number of other bullshit ways to lie to themselves. That was one of the reasons it had to be Eliot. He needed to skip the denial and get right to the point.
“How much time do I have?”
“It’s not like I’m an expert in —“
“Well, you’re the closest thing we’ve got.” Never know when you’ll need to fight a zombie, Eliot had said earlier, as they all stared at the shovel in his hands and the decapitated thing that shouldn’t have existed on the ground at his feet. “How much time?” Nate asked again.
“Shit, man, I don’t know, if it was just the arm maybe we could tourniquet it, slow it down—“
“But it’s not. I need a number, Eliot.”
“Less than a day. Maybe twelve hours, tops. Probably less.”
“Okay, good, so Plan A is twelve. That’s enough, we can get this done.”
“Get this done? You’re not seriously gonna try to finish the job? No, Hardison has the files on the antidote research, we just have to get him to a lab, he can finish it —“
“Yeah, and while we’re wasting our time on that, the guys who made this happen are getting away and covering it up and starting it all over again someplace else. Next time it’ll be worse. So yeah, we finish the job. And no, we don’t tell them, because they’ll say exactly what you just said, only the difference is they won’t listen when I tell them no.”
For a moment he thought he had misjudged, that maybe Eliot wasn’t going to listen either. His face twisted up into an awful but inscrutable expression, he tensed like he was going to yell or hit something or maybe even break down. But then his shoulders relaxed, he bit his lip and nodded and all he said was “Right. Okay.”
There was one more reason why it had to be Eliot. Nate turned back to the shelves behind him. As he had hoped, a corporation on this level of evil had to at least be aware of the fact that something might one day go so wrong that it couldn’t be fixed with briefcases and documents in triplicate, and they had stocked the supply closet accordingly. The whole back wall was racks hung with guns and shelves stacked with ammo. Eliot might be the expert, but Nate knew as well as anyone what you needed for this. He pulled a shotgun off the wall and held it out. Eliot reached for it automatically, but he didn’t pull it away. And so they stood for a moment, face to face, both their hands on the weapon they held between them.
“I can get us there,” Nate promised. “I can beat them. But when it happens, I need to know you’ll do it.”
In the next room, the microwave dinged. The smell of popcorn drifted in to them, along with snippets of conversation. Sophie was displeased with the food selection. Hardison was ranking his favorite zombie movies based on “realism,” now that he’d seen the real thing. Parker was still trying to figure out why they needed to steal an umbrella.
Eliot wrenched the shotgun out of his hands and turned away from him.
I do actually have a half-plotted file somewhere on a flash drive titled Let's Go Steal A Zombie Apocalypse but it was more me seeing all the fix-it fics in the Leverage tag and being like "The Crew would be so much better at doing a post-zombie outbreak town than anyone on The Walking Dead."
Anyway, I really like this take on a Leverage Zombie AU. Also on your tags,
your gut was correct this is absolutely Resident Evil. They would be one of the top best candidates for a crossover like this, if not the best.
A sillier less angsty version of this would have to include how they found the lab because to my knowledge (almost?) all the Umbrella labs are like. Hidden underneath mansions or in a castle and accessible only through bizarre puzzle entrances.
Listen, I take thinly sliced turkey, all right? I pan-sear it with some sweet Maui onions, all right? Then I put a slice of dill Havarti cheese and another slice of an Heirloom tomato. All that goes on an everything bagel and I make my own garlic-and-green-onion cream-cheese spread. That's forgettable? I don't think so.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Can't remember much about the first half of my dream last night but I know at one point there was a dramatic reveal that someone I was working with doing whatever I did was secretly The Shredder and then it warped into a weird TMNT/Leverage crossover where we (the crew, in which I was suddenly sort-of Nate but Nate was also there) were trying to bring The Shredder down.
The last thing I remember was Parker breaking into his secret Shredder room and doing a Classic Nate Grift of being The Most Annoying White Man Ever when I got caught poking around after she'd gotten us in because for some reason (dream logic) it was located in a hospital and the maintenence guys were like "hey wtf are you people doing here" when they saw us. I woke up in the middle of Nate critiquing my performance and grumbling that he'd have done it differently.
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