Week 8

[petoskeymods]

WEEK 8

The weekend passes in a blue, and suddenly it is Monday again. Monday of week 8, the final week of camp. The last week to try and change your fate.

It's sunny and pleasant, with daytime temperatures lingering around 70 degrees Fahrenheit and dropping off into the 50s in the evening. It's pretty much the perfect weather for Michigan, and it's only a shame that it took this long to get to it.

The WiiU continues to be broken, though the creepy Mii is gone now. All of the Miis are, actually. All that can be seen is a variety of Pure Michigan ads, interestingly enough. A bit calmer than last week's visuals, but probably annoying since no games can be played.

There is one other notable change about camp: the counselors are nowhere to be found. There is plenty of food and some note left on how to run things, but otherwise the campers have been left to their own devices apparently.

On the main door to the lodge is a note that says "We will be back as soon as possible." written in Red's handwriting. What could this mean?

7 CAMPERS REMAIN.

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Zombie Monday

[petoskeymods]

[kitchen_witch]

[In the chapel, Lillith doesn't sit, but instead she's standing, facing the door as she first harmonizes the tones almost liturgical before she starts to sing]

In the quiet misty morning
When the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing
And the sky is clear and red,
When the summer's ceased its gleaming
When the corn is past its prime,
When adventure's lost its meaning -
I'll be homeward bound in time

Bind me not to the pasture
Chain me not to the plow
Set me free to find my calling
And I'll return to you somehow

If you find it's me you're missing
If you're hoping I'll return,
To your thoughts I'll soon be listening,
And in the road I'll stop and turn
Then the wind will set me racing
As my journey nears its end
And the path I'll be retracing
When I'm homeward bound again

Bind me not to the pasture
Chain me not to the plow
Set me free to find my calling
And I'll return to you somehow

In the quiet misty morning
When the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing,
And the sky is clear and red,
When the summer's ceased its gleaming,
When the corn is past its prime,
When adventure's lost its meaning,
I'll be homeward bound in time.

[fallbymyhands]

[as usual, Mitsuru sits in the pews to listen to Lilith's song, eyes closed. when it's over. . . she speaks again]

Your stories get deeper and deeper as the days pass, Zaberisk. I wish I knew what they meant.

[kitchen_witch]

If you don't know the author's intent, you can always consider what it means to you, Mitsuru.

[She points out, tilting her head as she grins, though the motion seems slower than previous weeks]

[soylentprotag]

[As always, he listens quietly.

And as always, it's not completely certain how much of this is Lillith, how much is the facsimile of her according to what Sol understands, but by now he wonders what the crossover is between the two. The dead must have their own way of communicating and relating to Sol, since they're the ones keeping them company, whether in their own bodies or out of them.

It is a little too deep to contemplate on a Monday morning, though, especially here. Even if Monday morning is always a big bouquet of new dead and new things of death.]

Hmm. I guess the song means summer is ending soon.

[Their summer, at least, and this is the first time he's seen the world change -- the hue of the grass and the leaves, with the deepening of the season, the calls and appearances of the animals.

It remains uncertain, though, which of them will get to go home.]

[kitchen_witch]

[She smiles, her teeth looking strangely crooked now, like they're being forced out of alignment by something]

The changing of seasons is rather melancholy, don't you think?

[As Lillith walks, there's a stiffness to her movements, like a wind-up doll as she looks over Lenka]

It'd be sad when everyone has to go home...

[finalguard]

[ Boa seems in a good mood this morning, he's actually humming along with Lillith today. ]

[killtheanimals]

[Mitsuru doesn't carry his staff with him when he walks into the chapel today. He's tired and it shows in his face, his movements. Still, enough stubbornness lives to keep him going (or maybe it's just the routine?) enough to locate Boa and take a seat next to him, waiting to see what this week brings.]

1/2

[finalguard]

[ Boa's face lights up further upon seeing Mitsuru. ]

Good mornin--

[ He sounds very cheerful, but tragically he doesn't even get to finish the greeting. Someone on the other end is too impatient to let his poor body get a word in. The zombie's expression goes blank for a second. ]

[soylentprotag]

[All of the dead are much, much more cheerful than you'd ever expect -- because they're off living in their own strange little camp world that none of them can really see or understand, and maybe that's what it means to rest in peace, or would be if they hadn't learn enough about the dead by now to know better.

It's all a facade, just like the entire fact of the summer camp here. But it's not like the living can throw stones; many of them, thanks to the hallucinations, are also stuck at least halfway in their own worlds by now.

Maybe one day they'll be just as cheerful? Today, Lenka just lets the singing and humming wash over him with the same expression as always.]

Did something good happen?

[In zombieland, that is.]

cw body horror of the sword variety

[diesifkilled]

[Of course Shirou's here, humming along peacefully.

The spikes coming out of him have grown in size and number, to the point where it's easy to tell what they actually are - tips of sword blades, made from petoskey instead of steel. They're not just growing out of his wounds anymore, either. There are two curved rows along his abdomen like his ribs are poking out through the skin, and numerous other spots where apparently his bones are turning into blades and coming out through the skin.

Of course, the zombie remains blissfully unaware of all this, even though his shirt is kind of in shreds. Huh.]

[homeecspacecop]

It's... Shirou, isn't it? [Chuuta asks. Things are getting easier, people's faces are coming into focus more, he can hear most of what's being said to him. But he's still not completely sure.]

[That's Shirou! Look at him! Drew hasn't seen that before!]

Um, Shirou-san? Are you okay? [Chuuta tries not to talk to the zombies much, but this is weird.]

how sworded

[soylentprotag]

[He takes one look and then has to look away quickly, hands curling in fists at his sides.

It was one thing to see the start of these, bumps and knobs and odd spikes, but now that it's impossible to ignore -- like a second ribcage bursting out, every other bone growing wildly and out of control but in an oddly specific pattern -- it makes him think of... of more than one nightmare of everything changing. It's not just the coral; it's the hallucinations, the fact that they've been transplanted into a separate body of some kind, perhaps, the thought that this kind of transformation has an end and there's more than a small possibility of their seeing it.

It was a lot easier, the last couple of weeks, when the hallucinations started splitting distraction duties. He resists the urge to reach out and make sure this isn't another one. Shirou is dead. It's close enough.]

... I guess you can see this too.

[Half-muttered to himself, and half to the Shirou who isn't here. Granted, if he just doesn't look it's almost possible to ignore it entirely.]

cw: body horror

[particlebarrier]

[Lance is in the chapel today, cheerful as ever. His neck problem from last week seems to have gotten worse? As he nods his nod along to Lilith's singing, there are some deeply unpleasant grinding noises to go along with the movements.

Later, Lance can be found in the bathroom going through his usual skin care routine. He stands over the sink, diligently washing his face mask off, but... it looks like it's not just the face mask coming off with the water. Patches of skin are peeling off like strips of old wallpaper, leaving visible spots of petoskey stone on his face and neck.]

he already got the neck it's time for the variety pack

[soylentprotag]

[Things are really so pleasant this week that there was bound to be something (or somethings) going wrong somewhere.

By this point in the day, Lenka is more or less braced for the coral dead to pull out new and unpleasant bits of coral from any known limb or orifice, so walking into the bathroom only to see Lance peeling like he's been through a few rounds with the lake kittens is... marginally less terrible than it could have been. He just... makes sure there's a sink between them and leans over to splash water in his face, staring down at the clean sink like it's the only thing in the world.

What'll the greeting be today...?]

... How long does that usually take?

[He manages to keep the unease out of his voice, modulating it to some semblance of curiosity. He knows it takes a while, because he lives with the guy (in a manner of speaking), but it's not like he ever stuck around for it. They might have to... do clean-up in here.]

CW: Body horror train~

[seekingsunrise]

[Talcott's day to day routine doesn't change this week. Unfortunately as their bodies continue to stonify that means he's at the sink Monday morning, trying his hardest to shave the bits of rock from his face with a blade that is, by this point, so chipped and ragged it's hardly useful.

Thankfully they're too much stone to be able to bleed so it's not that messy when bits of skin start coming off more than the stone hairs. Little wet flakes that are more slime than skin because of the water and lather, a couple larger pieces full of holes from the stone hairs, floating in frothy water like swiss cheese.

At least he'll wipe the sink out when he's done?]

1/3

[linearcrash]

[ Oh hey, it's time to follow Tal around for his morning routine. He leans against the counter to wait for him to be finished. ]

[particlebarrier]

[Yeah, see, Tal's a considerate zombo. Lance, on the other hand, just does not see why there's a need to clean up the sink he was using because there is obviously nothing wrong going on and there are no sheets of dead skin clogging it up. Enjoy that mess, living folk.]

Good morning, Tal~

[Just another ordinary day.]

CW: Body horror

[yunolikebugs]

[Good news. Zombie Gonta is still hanging around.

Bad news... The stones have completely covered his face. It looks like he's wearing some kind of rock mask. They're beginning to spread to his neck and hair as well.

Of course, the zombie is gonna act like nothing is wrong, but you might want to check if he can still speak like this...]

[bladeisme]

[Ichigo is in the chapel, actually - and he's looking calm, despite the face that pieces of his skin are gone, A line of petoskey stone reaching up to one side of his face from the stone in the wound in the middle of his chest.

He's gently harmonizing with Lilith, and he's got a surprisingly good voice - But he tries not to overshadow her, and when she finishes? He just quietly sits, smiling easily at the altar and anyone who approaches.]

[le_mat]

[When he had spoken to Kon back then, it had been hard. This is a familiar aching feeling, and Ren just... hovers a bit away, not quite willing to approach yet]

[linearcrash]

[ Because Lilith doesn't deserve to be interrupted, he waits until the singing is over with before approaching. ]

You.

[ The tone is harsh and it's clear he's pissed off with how he's holding himself. Reaching over to try to grab his top to pull him up. ]

What the hell?!

[killtheanimals]

[He'll eventually meet with Ichigo, too. Not as upset as he could be, thanks to Boa, but--]

Left it to me, did you? You're lucky Sol seems to have decided to help.

[And yet he has no idea the full irony of his words.]

[fallbymyhands]

[she sucks in a deep breath when she sees him, before she steels herself to speak]

. . . Ichigo.

How are you this morning?

[soylentprotag]

[Lenka sits by him, staying quiet through the song and everything that comes with it -- occasionally he does glance over, because Ichigo is still new and his corpse was... terribly clean, of course, whatever it was that happened there all washed away along with any of the truths they could have gleaned from it. He still doesn't know what to think of it.

The usual vacant coral-induced expression is clean, too. It's like seeing a flash of Kon, here and there, even if Kon's been gone for what feels like a long, long time. It's hard to figure out where to place yourself between loss and acceptance, when everything still walks around and speaks and smiles with the same face.]

... I guess we won't know what happened, unless you can tell us, later. But... [he looks back down at his hands, clasped loosely in his lap in a mockery of prayer] There will be a later. We'll do what we can here. No matter what.

[It's soft enough that it might be hard to hear in the echoes of the chapel. But there are no cracks in it. There are few enough of them left that maybe he can help hold them all together; maybe they'll be enough for this last week.]