[NOVEMBER'S MOD OPEN POST: PART 2]

[desperatemods]

As if having heard such statements as monthly and predictable and possibly a Fuck off from an unnamed individual, the spirits that control the mansion have decided that in the aftermath of the gateways of truth, there will also be a second calamity this month.

Whoever rises first will see that today's weather is gloomy and overcast. Fog rolls over the mansion grounds. They may also notice that in the forest in the distance the trees rustle and birds take flight, as if fleeing something. Those slightly later to rise may note an eerie noise coming from the direction of the forest as well, wordless but disturbing. Soon, the first of them break through the edge of the forest closest to the mansion.

Zombies. The undead. Small hordes of them slowly stumbling towards the mansion, skin rotting and peeling, eyes unseeing, clothing in tatters. Those with the ability to sense or control the dead whether physically or spiritually¹, however, may note that they are not able to control these beings, whatever they may be -- but the undead are still seeking something and they are still dangerous. There are many of them, coming from an unknown source. If anyone goes near, they will grasp and reach for them, to try and pull them down to the ground.

They will still attempt to walk or crawl across the ground if any limbs are cut off -- or even the lower half of their body -- but when pierced through the head, or if the head is disconnected from the body, they will vanish in a gust of dust.

¹Cultivation?

[[Zombie invasion!! Time to show off those weapon skills and fighting prowess. Please note that this is the main purpose of the post and that while small injuries and perhaps some emotional trauma will probably be sustained in the process, zombie bites will not turn anyone into zombies.]]

Comments

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad takes a step back out of Magnus' way and goes to fill a glass with water instead. As long as he stays on Claudius and what he needs he can keep anger and focus enough not to crash down off the adrenaline. He brings the water and more or less pushes the glass into Claudius' good hand.

[summerdude]

Magnus, meanwhile, closes his eyes and takes Claudius's hand in his own. Then he summons the power of Frey. Sunlight spreads from his fingertips and races up Claudius's arm, surrounding and then sinking into the bite. The first thing Magnus does is burn out the infection that's already setting in -- those zombies' dental hygiene issues were no joke. As Claudius's bleeding slows and then stops; as his flesh knits back together, his memories float into Magnus's mind. Magnus tries not to look too closely; even if Claudius was weirdly open with him just last night, it feels inappropriate to watch old memories of King Hamlet and Queen Gertrude float up and mingle with newer memories, of...

Magnus flushes, and focuses extra hard on not paying attention to Claudius's memories. That is none of his business. The wound is closing up now, skin growing over it. Soon he'll be able to look away for real.

[wickedwit]

Claudius did, after all, promise to kiss Galahad every day. He's kept that promise, though on a day like today, he does wonder whether he could kiss Galahad sooner than usual. It means it's at the forefront of his mind. He doesn't know what Magnus is seeing; he focuses on closing his hand around the glass of water Galahad gave him, and drinking it.

"It's very strange how little this hurts," he remarks. He tries to smile at Galahad. "I do mean it, this time. I'll be all right. I want to keep living with thee, and thy friend is an excellent healer."

[onthewillowsthere]

"Slowly," Galahad tells him sternly, taking Claudius' jaw in his hand. "Be careful." His limbs are starting to feel overlight, and as if a trembling is starting in his marrow and rippling outward. He has limited time.

[summerdude]

"Oh," Magnus says, opening his eyes and looking at the way Galahad is holding himself. He moves one hand to Galahad's arm and gives him a little summer, too -- not a healing, or anything, but a little fortification and warmth so the adrenaline drop doesn't totally kick his butt. "You're okay, dude."

[wickedwit]

Claudius does take Galahad's advice, and drink slowly. Though his eyes stay fixed on Galahad's, and his face flushes. More sanguine, he thinks. He longer feels any pain, or like his life is eking out of him, or like he could die at any moment so he might as well as swear at God as much as he can.

[onthewillowsthere]

He stands still, holding Claudius' gaze, but when Magnus touches his arm he quivers. "Good," he tells Claudius. What he meant to say was thank you, but instead it's good, as if he were pleased with Claudius' obedience.

When the glass is empty he finally wrenches his eyes away and turns to Magnus. "Thank you."

[summerdude]

"Literally anytime," Magnus tells Galahad. He turns to Susan, who is still making those damned sandwiches, and takes a couple. He forces them on his friends, keeping one triangle for himself -- he knows he'll need the fortification before the day is over.

[wickedwit]

"I'd rather it doesn't become a regular occurrence," Claudius says dryly, passing the glass back to Galahad before taking the sandwich. "However devastating and effective my beloved is in a fight. He's everything you said." He has to drop his eyes from Galahad to summon up any dry wit -- otherwise he'll be drawn into Galahad's orbit, no thought but how to make Galahad call him good again. (He wants to tell Galahad how much it breaks him open, to be called my good man by a lover, but -- later. There will be so much to say later, when he has both his hands and voice to speak.)

[onthewillowsthere]

"Eat. Then upstairs. You need to rest." He takes the glass back to the sink.

[summerdude]

"I've got that," Magnus tells Galahad, a little uselessly. Now that he's not fighting and there aren't that many people in the kitchen for aid or refreshment, he feels a little at loose ends. "You take care of your boyfriend." He pushes a little more summer at both of them, a tiny spark of warmth and lightness, and bites his lip hard. Now is not the time to get caught up in a wave of missing Alex -- of how she laughs at him when he tries to fuss over her injuries, and flaps her hand, dismissively or invitingly by turn, every time he tries to heal her. There's more people out there; there's more stuff to do.