Who: Narcissaunwind & Rodolphusknap What: protecting Cissa from the zombies. When: Friday evening. Where: her unit in Epsilon. Warnings: TBD
Narcissa had been among the first to see the zombies. She'd woken early, even before the alarm went off in Epsilon, and been unable to fall back asleep. The room still bothered her, with its dusty stuffiness, so she had been frequently going outside for walks. The morning should have been quiet and still, but there was a disturbance in the cemetery; when she looked closer, Narcissa saw a man rise from a grave and begin to move towards her. She turned back quickly, hoping that they hadn't seen her, but they were following her; she broke into a run, but they followed her all the way back to her room. She slammed the door behind her and warded it shut before she went for her journal, intending to warn the others.
But the wards didn't work. The knob turned, and the door started to open; Narcissa inhaled sharply and turned around. With quick and decisive wand movements, she slammed the door shut again from across the room with her magic, then conjured metal bars and wooden slabs that slapped sharply against the door and the walls beside it. Then, afraid that even that sort of magic wouldn't be enough, she moved almost all of the furniture in the room into a pile in front of the door with broad sweeps of her wand.
And then she moved to the door, and listened. The knob continued to twist as the zombies outside tried the door, and whispery scratching sounds of their hands moving over the wood. Backing up, she stood waiting for them, heart beating in her ears, but they didn't come in. The door remained shut.
She didn't know how long she remained standing there before she decided it was safe to move, taking a seat in one of the chairs that had not been stacked against the door. When she did so, she noticed the colourful weapon which had not been in here when she left for her walk. She turned it over in her hands, examining it, and spent a while working out how to use it. Everything here was for a purpose; if magic did not work on the zombies, and she had been provided with a strange item that could shoot some sort of pellets at high speed, it stood to reason that the weapon-- as muggle as it seemed to be-- was intended for her use against the zombies. A glance through her journal confirmed this, and also advised her to aim for the head.
Well. She did not relish the idea of taking on the risen dead with a muggle weapon, but for the moment she was safely contained in her room. Perhaps she could wait them out. Surely they would eventually go away, or at least leave her door alone.
She sat down in the chair, wand up her sleeve and gun (for that was what everyone had called it) in her lap, and opened a book. Her journal was on the floor, forgotten. She attempted to read, distracted by the sound of the doorknob persistently turning back and forth, and the occasional sound of bodies shoving against the other side of her door. The day passed, and they were still there; growing hungry, Narcissa reached for her bag and the food that she had packed there for her escape. She felt calmer once she had eaten, but remained vigilant in her chair, reading the same sentence over and over uncomprehendingly as she waited for the intruders to leave.
About an hour later, the sounds suddenly stopped for a brief moment. Narcissa looked up, holding her breath, and then there was a commotion outside the door; terrified, she stood in the middle of the room with her wand in one hand and gun in the other. There was a loud crash, and her barricade started to come apart. She reinforced it, but the crash came again and again and she started to panic, trying to think of another way out.
As she cast around for a new idea, the door came undone-- and Narcissa, startled by the intrusion, pulled the trigger.