[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

[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.