November 4th, 1888

[aungier_mods]

Date: November 4th, 1888
Time: 12:00am - 6:30am
Location: All over the manor
Characters: Everyone [OPEN/CLOSED]

Summary: The inhabitants of Aungier awaken to find the manor taken over by a horrifying, unnatural fungi. This post is for those looking to find its source and destroy it.
Warnings: Will add as needed.

Behind the face of the grandfather clock in the main stairwell, full-blossomed mushrooms glow with a new ferocity, illuminating the numbers and showing the stopped time to be midnight exactly. With the predatory way that this new guest reacts to its humanoid bedfellows, it is all too easy to imagine that it consciously stopped the clocks at this precise time. But then again, those are the ravings of madmen and as the atmosphere begins to oppress and thoughts start to slip into feverish, imagined places, perhaps it would be wise to try and seize what little sense one has left.

Those with the least dulled minds might find themselves wondering, what of the Lord and Lady of the manor? Surely, the steely Lady Valdemar would not have succumbed to such lunacy? Others still might have retaliation blooming in their minds with a speed rivaling the spread of the mushrooms themselves. It is a weed and, like any weed, must be uprooted at its very source.

The hour hand of the clock twitches, desperate to move forwards, and then falls still again. The pendulum stops swinging and the illusion is fixed into place.

Comments

[gentlemanliest]

By the time that Robin has calmed Warsman down enough to cut off his assault, he's exhausted. In fact, he nearly misses Temeraire's shadow as it slips, swaying as if cast by a flickering candle, past the wing's entrance, only looking up as he sees Warsman stiffen. But rather than setting his already burnt-out nerves on fire, it has the opposite effect- it's a reminder of his duty. There are others here he needs to protect; he is a soldier... no, he is a guardian of the vulnerable. A protector. What is he doing cowering and shaking in this dark hallway when the others here- his family- might be injured or trapped? His heart is still beating fast and the sound of it still makes his head pulse with pain but he knows what he must do now.

More confidently than before, he turns back to Warsman. Russian seems to sink in more than English- maybe his circuitry has been damaged. "I'm investigating that movement, I'll be right back.."

With that, he heads through the doorway and into the stairwell, just catching Temeraire as he staggers towards the banister. But he's so lost in his daydream that he almost appears to be sleepwalking and, as Robin draws closer, a new fear strikes him; that he might not stop and tumble right over the edge and into the darkness below. He can already hear the dull thud, the minute cracking of skull on hard wood, see the shape of his body beneath them with arms bent strangely and jaw hanging like a puppet's.

So strong is this premonition that the words leave his mouth in a panicked rush before he can compose himself. "For God's sake, stop!"

[dracobin]

Temeraire does begin to topple at the sound of a new voice, albeit thankfully in the wrong direction: he jerks back, startled, and the movement upsets his already precarious balance.

Any other human would fling out an arm in a vain attempt to stay upright, futile though the attempt might be. Temeraire does not. Instead he falls with a curious expression on his face, as if he is struggling to move appendages that are not entirely there, and when he hits the ground--more or less at Robin's feet--he lies there, a little dazed, and not entirely convinced that gravity has taken hold.

It is a moment before he can muster up the energy to look up, and when he does, his eyes are unfocused, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"Laurence," he murmurs. "Whatever are you doing up there?"