Entry tags:
i fought the zombie horde and all i got was this lousy t-shirt
This is for
almostinstinct, who insisted. ETA: Showing off new mood theme! Now I actually have a reason to select a mood, and will spend way too much time doing so. Anyway, I'm not really feeling that hyper, I just feel the animation is appropriate for this post.
Undead
Merlin. Ensemble. Rated Z for zombies.
The night the zombie apocalypse came to Camelot.
Gaius has to remind himself that this isn't Uther anymore, this isn't his king and friend whom he has advised and supported over the years. No, that Uther is dead. Or rather: undead, and it is up to Gaius to stop him.
Still, he cannot stop himself saying, "Forgive me, my lord," in a tight and quiet voice before lopping the zombie's head off with a sword.
He steps over the body and rushes out the door. He will not linger. When zombies attack you cannot be idle, and Gaius has learned this lesson the hard way.
+
"No, stay away from the windows!" Arthur cries out.
"Wha--?" is all Sir Bors manages to say before the the glass shatters, and three members of the undead army descend upon him.
"Bors!" Arthur screams.
"Arrgh!" Bors replies.
Morgana tugs his arm. "Come on. It's too late for him."
But Arthur stands rooted to the spot, unable to avert his eyes from the feeding frenzy. "No," he chokes out. "Bors!"
"Arthur!" Morgana hisses in his ear. "We have to go."
"But--"
"We have to go."
There is no arguing with Morgana when she uses that tone of voice. He turns away, heart hammering in his chest, and they run.
Behind them, the zombies moan and groan their hunger into the night.
+
"No, that won't do," Gaius says as he rushes into the armory.
"It gives us range," Arthur points out, lifting the crossbow.
"They cannot be destroyed with arrows, sire."
Morgana says, "The sword, then."
"There are too many of them. The sword is not enough." There is a hint of something bright in Gaius's eyes, something knowing and dangerous that usually only shows itself when he talks about anatomy. "We need fire."
+
They don chain-mail, which the zombies can't bite through, and borrow the goggles Gaius wears during his more volatile experiments, which protect their eyes from the sprayback of infected blood.
"Gaius," Morgana says, touching his arm. Behind them, Merlin, Gwen, and Arthur ready the torches. "Uther...?"
Gaius's expression tells her all she needs to know.
+
"Braaaaiiiins," the horde demands. "Braaaaiiiiins."
"Go on, Merlin," Arthur says. "They won't want you. You can infiltrate their ranks and attack from within."
"Quiet!" Morgana commands.
The horde closes in, the fire reflecting in their lifeless eyes.
+
If you have never seen an army of the undead howl as they burn, consider yourself lucky. For one thing, the stench is horrid. For another, it's a headache to clean up. The zombies had infected most of the servants in the castle, and there is barely anyone left to pick up the pieces, so to speak. Everyone left alive has to pitch in.
"Merlin, you're a..." Arthur finally says. "You're a sorcerer?"
It's the first time he's spoken since he saw Merlin cover the zombies in a sea of flame with only a word and a gesture.
"And a good thing, too," Morgana cuts in. "We'd be dead otherwise."
"Undead," Gaius corrects.
"Keep scrubbing," she snaps, and they all do.
Morgana cleans with tenacity and intent, channeling her grief at Uther's undeath into her scrubbing brush. Arthur looks at Merlin as if Merlin being a sorcerer might mean he is also a secret zombie.
"I mean," Merlin says despairingly. "I couldn't tell you I was a sorcerer. How could I?"
Arthur says nothing, and continues collecting scorched limbs in a sack.
"Gaius," Gwen says softly. "Are you all right?"
She saw the look on Gaius's face as he watched the zombie army burn. It was a grim and haunted look that spoke of buried secrets and pasts left behind.
"I am now," Gaius sighs, so Gwen leaves it at that.
+
The coronation ceremony is simple, and can barely be called a ceremony at all. Not many attend, because many are dead. There is still a patina of shock and mourning that hangs in the air along with the distinct smell of incinerated zombie horde.
Arthur receives the crown from Morgana, who is for all intents and purposes the only other Pendragon alive. "Rule wisely, Arthur Pendragon," she intones. "Protect the sons and daughters of Camelot from zombie hordes wheresoever they may arise."
"I will," Arthur swears.
"Long live the king!" someone calls out. Others pick up the cry until the words echo and ring off the walls, filling their hearts.
+
Arthur makes his way to Gaius's quarters, where he finds the old man bent over a large tome and Merlin crushing herbs with a pestle.
"Your majesty," Gaius says, by way of greeting.
Arthur nods his acknowledgment. "Gaius." He turns to Merlin, hesitates, and says, "I never thanked you for saving us from the undead."
"Ah," Merlin replies. "It was nothing."
"Camelot is safe now because of you."
"But for how long?" Gaius asks.
Arthur and Merlin look at him.
Gaius raises his eyebrows. "We must be ever vigilant against zombies."
"Well," Arthur says, "then it's a good thing we have Merlin, isn't it?"
"Ah," Merlin says again, blushing.
"Don't think that this means you're excused from washing my socks," Arthur warns.
"Of course," Merlin replies, in more familiar territory. "We can hardly expect you to stop being a prat just because you're king now, can we?"
Arthur rolls his eyes, but he is smiling. "Idiot."
He leaves them to their business. There is a kingdom to rebuild, after all. Camelot suffered terrible damage but - much like a zombie who hasn't been adequately obliterated - it will rise again, and Arthur is glad to know that if an army of the undead ever falls upon Camelot in the future, he will have good friends at his side in the fight.
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Undead
Merlin. Ensemble. Rated Z for zombies.
The night the zombie apocalypse came to Camelot.
Gaius has to remind himself that this isn't Uther anymore, this isn't his king and friend whom he has advised and supported over the years. No, that Uther is dead. Or rather: undead, and it is up to Gaius to stop him.
Still, he cannot stop himself saying, "Forgive me, my lord," in a tight and quiet voice before lopping the zombie's head off with a sword.
He steps over the body and rushes out the door. He will not linger. When zombies attack you cannot be idle, and Gaius has learned this lesson the hard way.
+
"No, stay away from the windows!" Arthur cries out.
"Wha--?" is all Sir Bors manages to say before the the glass shatters, and three members of the undead army descend upon him.
"Bors!" Arthur screams.
"Arrgh!" Bors replies.
Morgana tugs his arm. "Come on. It's too late for him."
But Arthur stands rooted to the spot, unable to avert his eyes from the feeding frenzy. "No," he chokes out. "Bors!"
"Arthur!" Morgana hisses in his ear. "We have to go."
"But--"
"We have to go."
There is no arguing with Morgana when she uses that tone of voice. He turns away, heart hammering in his chest, and they run.
Behind them, the zombies moan and groan their hunger into the night.
+
"No, that won't do," Gaius says as he rushes into the armory.
"It gives us range," Arthur points out, lifting the crossbow.
"They cannot be destroyed with arrows, sire."
Morgana says, "The sword, then."
"There are too many of them. The sword is not enough." There is a hint of something bright in Gaius's eyes, something knowing and dangerous that usually only shows itself when he talks about anatomy. "We need fire."
+
They don chain-mail, which the zombies can't bite through, and borrow the goggles Gaius wears during his more volatile experiments, which protect their eyes from the sprayback of infected blood.
"Gaius," Morgana says, touching his arm. Behind them, Merlin, Gwen, and Arthur ready the torches. "Uther...?"
Gaius's expression tells her all she needs to know.
+
"Braaaaiiiins," the horde demands. "Braaaaiiiiins."
"Go on, Merlin," Arthur says. "They won't want you. You can infiltrate their ranks and attack from within."
"Quiet!" Morgana commands.
The horde closes in, the fire reflecting in their lifeless eyes.
+
If you have never seen an army of the undead howl as they burn, consider yourself lucky. For one thing, the stench is horrid. For another, it's a headache to clean up. The zombies had infected most of the servants in the castle, and there is barely anyone left to pick up the pieces, so to speak. Everyone left alive has to pitch in.
"Merlin, you're a..." Arthur finally says. "You're a sorcerer?"
It's the first time he's spoken since he saw Merlin cover the zombies in a sea of flame with only a word and a gesture.
"And a good thing, too," Morgana cuts in. "We'd be dead otherwise."
"Undead," Gaius corrects.
"Keep scrubbing," she snaps, and they all do.
Morgana cleans with tenacity and intent, channeling her grief at Uther's undeath into her scrubbing brush. Arthur looks at Merlin as if Merlin being a sorcerer might mean he is also a secret zombie.
"I mean," Merlin says despairingly. "I couldn't tell you I was a sorcerer. How could I?"
Arthur says nothing, and continues collecting scorched limbs in a sack.
"Gaius," Gwen says softly. "Are you all right?"
She saw the look on Gaius's face as he watched the zombie army burn. It was a grim and haunted look that spoke of buried secrets and pasts left behind.
"I am now," Gaius sighs, so Gwen leaves it at that.
+
The coronation ceremony is simple, and can barely be called a ceremony at all. Not many attend, because many are dead. There is still a patina of shock and mourning that hangs in the air along with the distinct smell of incinerated zombie horde.
Arthur receives the crown from Morgana, who is for all intents and purposes the only other Pendragon alive. "Rule wisely, Arthur Pendragon," she intones. "Protect the sons and daughters of Camelot from zombie hordes wheresoever they may arise."
"I will," Arthur swears.
"Long live the king!" someone calls out. Others pick up the cry until the words echo and ring off the walls, filling their hearts.
+
Arthur makes his way to Gaius's quarters, where he finds the old man bent over a large tome and Merlin crushing herbs with a pestle.
"Your majesty," Gaius says, by way of greeting.
Arthur nods his acknowledgment. "Gaius." He turns to Merlin, hesitates, and says, "I never thanked you for saving us from the undead."
"Ah," Merlin replies. "It was nothing."
"Camelot is safe now because of you."
"But for how long?" Gaius asks.
Arthur and Merlin look at him.
Gaius raises his eyebrows. "We must be ever vigilant against zombies."
"Well," Arthur says, "then it's a good thing we have Merlin, isn't it?"
"Ah," Merlin says again, blushing.
"Don't think that this means you're excused from washing my socks," Arthur warns.
"Of course," Merlin replies, in more familiar territory. "We can hardly expect you to stop being a prat just because you're king now, can we?"
Arthur rolls his eyes, but he is smiling. "Idiot."
He leaves them to their business. There is a kingdom to rebuild, after all. Camelot suffered terrible damage but - much like a zombie who hasn't been adequately obliterated - it will rise again, and Arthur is glad to know that if an army of the undead ever falls upon Camelot in the future, he will have good friends at his side in the fight.
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