Akirian nodded standing up she looked over across the roof top. "Hey look its them." Aki said pointing across the roof.

Charlie nodded "A few roofs over. I know. I saw them when I reloaded. Which by the way Ebony, you'd best do if we're going hunting for targets." He said pointedly. Ebony smiled and got up, heading to the packs and pulling out a box of bullets. She reloaded her colt .45 and returned all her guns to their rightful places. Making her rather pretty floaty black dress appear more for hiding weapons than because she thought it was pretty.

[ Sorry Kale, Mia neglected to warn the SEG that we jumped 2 pages.>>;; I'm gonna go ahead an post what happened after Jess threw him the dagger, then glide into present, seeing as how I'm pretty far behind. ]

Richard scoffed curtly in response to Jess's snobbish reply as she tossed a mid-sized dagger his way, one which he caught with a feigned and audible grunt against his gut. After that, she'd disappeared completely from his sight, and, likely, he from her's, as the hoard of zombies decided to split their attack between him and her. Better for me, he thought with a callous shrug, a brow cockily drawn upwards as he wrapped his fingers tightly about the hilt, focusing upon their numbers. His downward glance was brief, yes, he was stupid enough to do so in midst of a life-threatening battle, and, he would've taken longer to admire the simple beauty of the blade, however, the festering corpses he called friends simply wouldn't allow it. Damn them.

He sighed irritably, ramming the blade into the neck of his nearest opponent, the crushing gurgle of the zombie's now pierced windpipe making Richard cringe, then prance in place as shivers attacked his body in full upon withdrawal, smacking the broomstick he still wielded in his right hand into the face of another. Precarious, yet effective weapon combo, he noted, nodding approvingly as he switched off as fluidly as he could, though, it was noticeable, the way he bumbled like a fool with that dagger in hand. He was MUCH better at wielding a broomstick, that was for sure.

A couple gunshots shattered his so-called 'iron' defenses, nearly startling the piss out of him, he jumping on the spot as if he'd been hit by one of the mini-booms. 'The hell?' he swore loudly, his normally dull and listless brows drawn downward as his arms fell to his sides, searching for the source of the noise. No luck, what with all the zombies out, it was impossible to see a couple feet in front of, let alone the distance between him and the shots. 'Time to blow this Popsicle stand!' he announced, no longer giving a rat’s ass about the guns, his pitiful attempt to sheath the dagger between his belt and pin-stripe pants provoking a bemused, yet irritable groan to issue from his thin lips as the pricey leather band sliced, his pants immediately falling to his ankles.

'That’s fucking righteous!' he growled with a tart scowl upon his features, swooping downward so that he could mask his heart boxers from any loose and prying eyes, irately screaming, 'I GOT ZOMBIE ON MY PANTS!' as he noted a smudge that DEFINITELY hadn't been there before. He seemed completely ignorant of the zombies taking advantage of his stupidity, though, little did they know those aloof ruby eyes were narrowed perceptively, pin-pointing their locations, waiting for his opportunity.

'Mguhmoochfggg.'

Richard shook his head with distasteful roll of his eyes, making a gagging face displaying his putrid dislike for their 'language'. He didn't know, but by now, everyone that had been involved up to this point had been safely tucked away on the rooftops above him, for quite some time too. A trivial piece of information he wouldn't have cared to know anyway. 'Will you shoddy stink bags hurry the hell up,' he urged irritably, 'By the time you get to me, I'll have contracted the virus from turning a year. Let's get going boys and girls! My nephew, who's, whot, three, mind you, crawls faster!' It was amazing; Richard’s talent to provoke, though, perhaps, half-deaf zombies weren’t the best target practice after all. The retardation of their movements was a nice thing about fighting zombies, making it easy to take out a couple within a few moments of time. True, they liked to mob, which made them quite deadly, but, by far, their speed was a major hindrance, and one of Richard's biggest irritations.

He scoffed once more, unable to ditch the jitters taking over his antsy body, his grip loosening then tightening upon the broom he'd switched over to his dominant left hand. Finally, one was making it's way into a decent proximity, Richard's eager and nimble legs tucking beneath him as he sprung into a back-flip, landing rather cattishly atop the zombie pawn he been so impatiently awaiting. 'Adios suckas!!' he cheered, immediately bounding off for another chrome-dome to pounce upon. That was the trick to zombie walking—agility—which became apparent when Richard’s first target crumbled to the ground. He treated them much like a tightrope, one foot in front of the other, only looking ahead, and never down. He finally thought to center the broomstick at his neck so that he could extend his arms to maintain his balance completely, making the complex task a bit more manageable. He was coming to the end of his undead rope, focusing his gaze upon the rooftop looming above them, a relieved smirk wandering upon his lips.

He pitifully managed to lance the broom on top, sacrificing sure footing, which he ditched completely, assuming he'd land perfectly on the broken fire escape than hung down from the side of the building like a snaggle tooth. 'Ah!' he hissed, feeling his ribs collide harshly against one of the bars meant for his footing, the uneasy ladder shifting as it collected his weight. Ok, so that hadn't gone completely according to plan. Whatever.

It wasn't the most pleasant of feelings, and while he knew it wasn't anything major, he was not pleased about the fat bruise that would likely show up in a couple hour’s time. It did sting, throbbing incessantly as he wrung a hand against the next highest bar, finally garnering footing as he hoisted himself upward. 'This damned thing sure is wobbly,' he commented offhandedly, feeling it shudder noticeably with each movement he made. It was steady enough for him to climb the entire way upward, and still remain in place as he made it up and over the brick barrier lining the rooftop. As soon has his feet had come in contact with the ground, he spun, folding his middle over the side so that he could take a look at his handy work, feeling rather God-like at this point in time as he stared at the confused mass below him, bemusement reeking off his features. Those chocolate brows shot up dangerously as an idea hit him, he hoisting his bottom upon the thick edge, making sure he was secure before kicking rather maliciously at the faulty ladder. One kick, two, then three, and a powerful creak leaked into the infested air, the lethargic toppling of the heavy bars coming not too long after.

Satisfied, as now many, many zombies were crushed beneath the object that meant to save lives, and had saved his, Richard spun, bounding off from the ledge and onto the security of the roof, nearly happy enough to bend down and kiss it. Instead, he patted the broomstick. Today had been eventful. A good thing, millionaire playboys were often quite hard to keep entertained.