Meg (meganmasters) wrote in zombieslogs, @ 2013-10-25 14:30:00 |
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Meg sighed and rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. She was sweating. She’d run for days, taken out a dozen zombies at once with little more than her bare hands, even gone so far as to leap off a bridge at one point to avoid a small horde, but she hadn’t broken a sweat. This though? This had her sweating. She eyed her work with a bit of a grimace. It wasn’t nearly as efficient as she would have hoped but, under the circumstances, she didn’t think it was going too badly. Without access to paint or even a good knife…she’d ditched hers long ago when she realized how useless it was against her enemy these days…she’d had to resort to using her power to blast wards into the walls of her chosen hideout. She hadn’t had to use so much power all at once in a very long time, and the effort was draining her considerably.
She’d focused on the inside first. Every wall was covered in wards. Everything she could think of that would trap intruders, render them powerless, keep them defenseless without actually doing the same to her. She’d burned the markings deep. Deep enough that even if someone were to try and scratch through one, it would still be there, unbreakable. On the outside, however, she focused more on repelling. She wanted to keep people from wandering too close. That was easier to do. She could put up those sorts of wards without worry about how they would affect her. They were her own, and they wouldn’t be able to keep her out. At the moment, however, she was on the fence. She had paused beside a large blank expanse of wall just beside the door. She knew what ward needed to go up. She needed to block the place from angels. There were a few too many in the neighborhood for her liking, fallen or not, and she knew she needed the protection. But she also knew that at least one of them, at least in the past, might have her back, and she wasn’t sure if she should try to keep him out or not. He’d been pleasant enough…well…as pleasant as he ever was, when they’d spoken. But his faculties were clearly back in order and she didn’t know what that meant where she was concerned. Would he still have a soft spot for her? Would he still want to protect her? She couldn’t be sure.
Shaking her head, she stepped forward. It was foolish to even debate. She needed protection, she couldn’t be sure of him, and she had an easy fix. She would put up the ward. If things changed, then they changed, but she was a creature of habit. Her own survival trumped all else these days. Grunting with the effort, she began tracing the complicated ward on the rough wood, feeling the burn go deep beneath her finger, and feeling the pull as her already depleted power sank still further. She’d have to lay down when this was done. Maybe even sleep. She didn’t need sleep, as a rule, but it did help from time to time, along with food, when she ran herself empty like this. She just had to hope no one, living or dead, came to call while she was out cold. She didn’t like being defenseless, but in this case it was trading one type of defense for another. And, seeing as it was only temporary, it was worth the risk.
Meg was so focused on the task at hand, she had committed a grave mistake. The worst mistake she could have with the world the way it was. She wasn’t listening to her surroundings. She wasn’t on guard. Anyone or anything could have snuck up on her at that point and she wouldn’t have known, though her wards would hopefully keep living “enemies” away. Zombies though? One could have been coming up on her right then and she wouldn’t have realized it until it was breathing on her neck. But she remained focused, and didn’t hear anyone approaching. |