fridgetothefire | 068 ☣ cindery, nonexistent, radiant

[Video]

[She's posting from the floor of the maintenance office, where she is on a tarp in the middle of a mess, boxes and sponges and bits of felt and ash and mutilated pens scattered all around her. She has smears of blue and black ink on her face and hands and bathrobe she's wearing - which, when she turns, is open in a deep V-wedge to keep her mostly decent without touching the red, fist-sized external heart now clutching steadily in the center of her chest. She tries to brush her hair out of her face, and adds to the ink smudges.]

If you're fighting the parasites, or demons, or whatever they are, come by the office. I made stamps with the anti-possession sigil on them. They're a little haphazard, but they'll work. Once you clear someone, stamp them. I don't want anyone getting reinfected.

[Open Spam, wibbly time through through the general throwdown arc]

[Anya is also running around exorcising people herself, knocking on doors, poking anyone she finds to see if they'll snarl or flinch. She's weary and bloody and bruised, after the first one or two, and she could probably use some backup to help fight the monsters once she forces them to manifest with the rituals Dean taught her.]

[Spam for Ben, backdated a wee bit to before the sha throwdown kicked into high gear]

[With Dean shuffled off to the kitchens, Andrew gone, and Stephen and Tig in comas, no is left in maintenance to notice Anya not turning up to work but Peter, and he won't hassle her about it. So when she wakes up to find a fresh heart tucked between and a little below her breasts, arteries and veins sliding back under the skin, the raw muscle wet and twitch, rabbit-fast with her shock, she decides that today is a good day to hide in her room and eat jerky and crackers and do nothing and see no one.

Until, of course, he comes to check on her, and her door opens for him, just like it always does.]

Threaded | Flat

How can you protect someone from possession with a stamp?

[Still healing his jaw, Chris sits in his room when Anya's knock sounds at his door. Wearily, he gets up and wanders over to the door]

Mmmph?

[The dining hall is full of passengers showing up with extreme and impossible body modifications. There is a time when Ben would have taken one look at them and known them for Nomlies with absolute certainty, would have attacked them, maybe killed them. Even once he graduated, there would have been the urge to speed his pulse and slide adrenaline into his system like a needle into a vein, painful but not by enough to matter.

Today he just stared at them and moved back into the kitchen; there's too much to do and he feels the anxiety scrabble for a handhold where much greater problems have already taken them all but that's as far as it gets. He avoids them and he finishes his task list and he leaves the kitchen for the day. Later, he fails to save Abigail and he fails to kill the man who killed her, and he knows he was right: there are greater problems in his life now than monsters that he didn't make up, but that he made real.

When he can do nothing further in the infirmary he comes here, and when he looks up from closing the door he sees something else that isn't possible. It's not like the picture on the card his brother held out to him years ago, begging answers, begging sense; it's messier, and more delicate, and real. He blinks, just once, slowly - and then speaks in a very small, very faintly trembling voice,]

I can see your heart.

[He should be concerned, he thinks, but his nerves are too frayed and numb for that; what he feels instead is that maybe he is finally once more insane.]

[Not long after his exorcism, Merlin reviews the network he's been neglecting, and goes down to the maintenance office for what seems like an obvious precaution. He does not want to be reinfected, thank you, and likewise anyone he's able to help while this is being cleared up.]

Anya...?

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[Action!]

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Spam - wibbly time, present-dated-ish