The Season for Brains (Sean/Open)

[Cee Cohen]

Afternoon on a Thursday, close to break, and Cee had lost his contacts. But that was all right. They usually showed up somewhere, and his insurance was decent enough where he could afford to buy another set. He’d asked Sean to go shopping with him today to try to pick up some nice but small gifts for his coworkers, and after a moment of slight embarrassment as he tried to figure out how to politely tell Sean that he couldn’t see a thing (in spite of his glasses), he gave up and just asked the older man if he could lend him his arm for an hour or so. He could see some things. They were just blurry, and it was hard to tell how far away they were. But Sean proved to be an excellent guide, and Cee had only bumped into one door so far, so he considered this exercise to be a success.

“Thank you so much,” he said brightly to the other man. “I very much appreciate the assistance. Eventually my contacts will arrive, and then I should be better.” He’d never learned to use the cane though, or read brail. He should have, considering the odds for his eyesight had been exceptionally poor until a few years ago, but at the moment he still relied heavily on contacts. “I think we have…” He eyed the packages in his hand thoughtfully. “Something for the Jenkins, Morgan, um. You.” He glanced up and, while he was looking for another store for them to step into, noticed a poster on the wall. He wasn’t sure what it was. It seemed to be an odd combination of grey, red and green to his eyes, with a rather brown shade to the red. He leaned in closer, but it still wasn’t visible.

“Is this for a new movie or something?” He inquired, looking back at Sean.

((Hey guys! This is gonna be a zombie walk thread! Please feel free to have your characters come in and parade through the mall in costume and paint. It's also holiday themed, so we'd love to see some Santa hats around the place. Go for it!))

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had his arm around Cee’s shoulders, trying to provide adequate assistance to his coworker and friend. The telepath had practice with this, not merely from his association with Cee over the past few years, but because he’d spent many a night at a bar during last call. Helping people not stumble into traffic was an important skill, and he had enough coordination to do that inebriated as well as sober.

Sobriety ruled today, since it was only the afternoon, of a weekday to boot.

However, they had managed to walk through the mall thus far with minimal difficulty, and if the telepath had his way, Cee would have no more close encounters with doors, windows, or the escalator.

Given the size of his social circle, Sean also expected to return to the mall time and again in the next week and a half before Christmas. It mattered not that he had already come to the mall several times already for the holiday season; there were always more presents to buy, or another decoration or knickknack that Josh needed. Or festive treats to bring home.

“You know I’m happy to help,” Sean reminded the younger man. He listened to Cee prattle off his list, nodding in acknowledgment. “The Jenkins should be easy, and we can save me for last.” He wouldn’t expect Cee to do him while they were out together unless the younger man was insistent; if that proved to be the case, they could reach a compromise.

At the remark, he turned around, glancing at the poster that had caught Cee’s attention.

A graphic description of a zombie, in full color. Peculiar. “It doesn’t have a movie title.”

[Cee Cohen]

Cee’s own social circle wasn’t all that large anymore, but his habits from the days when he’d been making a lot of money hadn’t stopped, and as a result, he consistently bought a lot of things for a lot of people. Usually they were small gifts—books, little art sets, poetry sets, etc, all depending on the person he was attempting to give it to. But the point was he gave everyone in his limited acquaintanceship presents, and as a result, had a higher than normal credit card bill. But that was all right. His credit was already bad because of his tendency to go through apartments, and he wasn’t planning to settle down or buy a house anytime soon.

“Probably a sensible decision, considering you are right here,” he said cheerfully. “But the Jenkins should be, I think? Perhaps some painting supplies for Debra, and Walter does like to cook…actually, no, that is not simple.” He chewed on his lips. Cee knew nothing of cooking or of painting. He lived largely off of frozen foods and chips (it was a miracle he was still as thin as he was), “Well,” he added, brightening, “I can figure it out. What do you have to get? Please tell me you have something, or I will feel negative emotions for taking up your time.”

Cee blinked slightly at the mention, then looked over at the picture again. He really couldn’t tell what it was without his contacts, although leaning in gave him some idea that whatever it was, it was quite gruesome. That red was the maroon color of…dried blood?

“What is it of?” he asked curiously, then looked around. “And can you hear groaning?”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“I always need to pick things up,” the telepath assured the younger man with a gentle pat on the arm. Even though he had finished his proper shopping, the holiday season ensured that there was always something else that he needed to buy: decorations, additional gifts just in case he was invited to a party and he didn’t know the host(ess), treats, supplies for the house...the list went on, as the possibilities were nearly endless. “More importantly, going out with you is never taking up my time.”

Not at all. He enjoyed Cee’s company, even if they didn’t agree about some of the younger man’s theories of the world and the supernatural.

“You’re also in luck, since I know enough about cooking that between the two of us, we can find something for Walter.” He and the nurse had swapped recipes on numerous occasions, and he knew what the Jenkins’ kitchen lacked.

However, discussion of Christmas gifts fell to the wayside in light of the gruesome poster. “A grotesque creature of the night,” he said, peering closer for only an additional few seconds before turning away from it. There was enough of that from teenagers around Halloween.

Sean didn’t hear groaning at first, since his hearing wasn’t as sensitive as Cee’s was. However, after a moment of listening intently, he heard the faint sound of groans, more than one, more than a few. The sound was getting louder, as though the cause was growing nearer. “I do,” he confirmed, frowning slightly to himself.

“Come with me,” he said, gently trying to move Cee in the direction of the center of the mall, where they could peer down at the next floor for clues.

[Cee Cohen]

“Oh.” Cee blinked slightly. He couldn’t imagine that. There were always things he forgot, but as driving was slightly sketchy for him and people generally accepted him as absent-minded, he could usually get away with this. That, and his offers of free computer repair for a year as a gift were usually accepted with alarming alacrity. And even though he didn’t get social niceties very well, he couldn’t help smiling in the vague direction of Sean at the man’s words. “Thank you! I appreciate it. It’s nice to employ time with you.”

For Christmas, someone ought to buy Cee a dictionary.

He nodded, grateful for the help. He hadn’t gone over to the Jenkins’ house, being fairly new to Hammel, all considered. “Fantastic! Thank you again, Sean. And for the directions. And for ensuring that I don’t acquaint myself with walls.” He smiled again at the man cheerfully, then brightened at the description of the poster. There were two reasons for this. One was that he was mentally storing up the word “grotesque” for use at a later date, and the other was the idea of “creature of the night.” “Is it a vampire, werewolf, or zombie?” he inquired. “Although—are zombies considered creatures of the night? They do run around a lot in the daytime.”

He was also grateful he wasn’t hearing things. On top of his paranoia and anxiety issues, that would be the last thing he needed. He let himself be guided to the center of the mall and leaned down, then started back, eyes wide behind his glasses. But he was also grinning.

“Sean,” he said, “I think those are members of the undead population! I ALWAYS knew they were really there!”

Add to the Christmas list some therapy sessions.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean’s experience with the modern horror genre was minimal. He had read the classics: Frankenstein, Dracula, Poe’s entire body of work, Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde, The Invisible Man...he was all well-versed in mythology and folklore. At the same time, he had no interest in exploiting fear (either individual or cultural), and he found the thoughts typically attendant to those who enjoyed such genres distasteful. By medical school, he had stopped watching horror movies.

He knew a bit about zombies, vampires, and werewolves, primarily because he worked at a high school and those were popular. He certainly knew enough about them to be able to identify a zombie by its obvious traits.

However, he didn’t get the opportunity to make that identification, because the minute they reached the center of the mall and the banister, Cee had made his declaration. The telepath leaned down as well, glancing at the large crowd of people who did, in fact, look like zombies. There were far too many of them: groaning, shuffling along, covered in makeup and stage blood and wearing tattered clothing. Also, he could hear their thoughts. All of them.

There were no such things as zombies outside of cultural obsession.

Although saying as such to a conspiracy theorist was difficult at the best of times. This was worsened by the situation, where they were, in fact, surrounded by dozens of zombie enthusiasts for some reason, and Cee was so thrilled by this reality.

It was better to engage him slowly.

Turning to look at the younger man, Sean asked, “Is that so? Why?”

[Ginny Campbell]

Among the zombies lumbering about the first floor of the mall was one Ginny Campbell. Grotesque makeup, not stage quality but good enough by her, covered her exposed skin, designed to make her flesh look rotting. She wore a blood splattered Santa's Elf costume, with blinking Christmas lights wrapped about her torso.

Her father had not given her permission to raid his house for this.

She didn't care.

Along with her were two of her friends, Estelle Flores and Robbie Wilkes. Life was much more exciting now that they were both in college; it meant they could do things like this and maybe it wouldn't get back to her dad until much later, and only then if the make up didn't wash off the hat she was wearing.

"Braiiiiiins." She groaned, lurching towards a shopper with a wild-eyed grin. "Braiiin....do mall rats have brains? Or do we just eat off their limbs?" She whispered to her companions.