and on this casket's back sits a little lonely ghost [open to multiple]

[deadeyedchild]

He can feel Tim leaving him, waking up, and he tries to follow. He doesn't know how. This is all new territory, following someone from one plane of existence to another. He tries to visualize himself holding onto Tim's hand. It's embarrassing but it works.

He thinks it works.

He feels different.

The world feels familiar - not the empty void he'd been inhabiting, but the world, solid and real, tangible. He's here. He's back.

He still feels like he's looking at it through glass, though. He looks down at his hands, which are - sort of there, at least, he knows they're there. He can almost see them. Except not quite.

"Oh come on," he mutters, and no sound comes out. He knows he's spoken but he can't quite hear it. He tries to lay a hand on his own arm and he feels a buzz of static as his fingers pass through himself. Oh, god.

He's a fucking ghost.

This is not quite what he had in mind. He knows it's not what Tim had in mind.

It's better than nothing.

He takes a moment to try and figure out where he is. He finds that he can move, not exactly by walking, but sort of drifting along the ground. He accidentally passes through someone, who shivers violently and looks thoroughly spooked for a few seconds. He is unable to get anyone's attention, or interact with anything.

He has to get to Tim somehow, but he can't really take a train, can he? He's not even sure what part of the city he's in.

So he rambles. After a while he finds it's easier to just move through walls than to try to go about things the normal way. Shortly after that revelation he starts picking up the very bizarre skill of moving up through a building, in and out of offices and apartments.

Travel is easy, but communication is nearly impossible.

He searches, having nothing else he can do, for someone he knows.


[[Jay is wandering all over kingdom come today so if you want your character to have a weird ghost encounter, pick a location and we'll see what happens. It's going to be super hard to notice him if you don't have any kind of telepathic/other helpful powers, but that's okay, we can do short shenanigan threads if you're into that. A quick little ghost encounter! Hey, maybe Jay can overhear some awkward dialogue or embarrassing secrets. Maybe he'll accidentally figure out how to knock something off a counter and then go nuts trying to do it again. The sky is the limit. Have fun!]]

UPDATE: as often happens with this kind of thing we have Jay on a pretty tight schedule now. The Balladeer meets him around lunchtime, and then the line of Rush/Iman - Daniel - Greta gets set into motion sometime after. Greta will be taking Jay back to his building in the late afternoon. If you want to meet him when he's out and about it'll now have to be prior to lunch or snuck in between lunch and his adventure through the former ROMAC apartments. There is still plenty of room in there for nonsense, it just won't be able to lead to Jay actually getting home. SHENANIGANS!

Comments

[lottawork]

"It reacts to stimuli," he says sourly. "That in and of itself is hardly indicative of life, let alone awareness."

Particularly if they are imposing the Rift as some sort of metric upon this nameless entity or cosmic force, as the idea of the Rift being gradable on any sort of curve is beyond laughable.

The dog barks again, to which Rush responds with low hiss of, "quiet," pinning it with a pointed look. The dog whines.

It becomes clear to him that the dog is no longer looking at the debatably empty space with which Asadi has been interacting.

He follows the line of its gaze.

Rush's eyes shut in an overly long blink as he pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

"Fucksake," he says.

[ofschrodinger]

The enormous, long-furred cat that has just materialized atop the counter pays little heed to the dog, and less to the two corporeal humans in the room. It's not here for them, after all. They're precisely where they need to be. It's the other one who has gone astray.

After giving the dog a brief, assessing look - it poses no true threat, but it's such a bother being lunged at, and the cat would rather avoid it - it turns its milky gaze toward the anomaly that has everyone so distracted.

Now, now, it scolds him, and only him, its tone passing for gentle with a good deal of success. The thin wraith attempting to pass for Jay might learn a thing or two. It's impolite to spy.

[deadeyedchild]

And for a moment there he was almost unable to believe his luck. Not only are they rifties but they are like, scientists or something, ridiculously smart and observant and they know about the cats and they're already, already picking up on his pathetic attempts at communication. He'd been so thrilled when the woman declared him aware, only to have the moment almost instantly ruined by another fucking cat.

He hasn't met this one before, which is good, because every other time he's been around the cats they've been much bigger than him, and this one is huge even when normally proportioned. He recoils sharply, floating backwards and halfway through a wall, having to then flail back out.

"Go away," he says, and he feels as though his hands are pulling into fists, even though that's impossible. "Tim pulled me out. I don't belong to you anymore."

Tough talk. He has no idea if it's true. He's barely 'out', and Tim probably has no idea he succeeded at all. For all he knows this cat is here to collect him, pull him back in. But surely - the Rift already killed him without conversation, surely it can pull him back just as easily?



"Um..." Iman takes a faltering step toward the cat. She'd felt immediate dread when it appeared, and a little bit of fear, too, like maybe they somehow stumbled onto something the cats don't want them to know about - but now it's just ignoring them pointedly. "Can we help you?"

[lottawork]

"Fucking excellent," snaps Rush, eyeing the cat with a look of utter disdain. "Was there something you wanted? Some indeterminate and vaguely threatening pronouncement you wanted to impart, perhaps? Then fucking previse our imminent doom and be done with it."

He tempers the unrealistic urge to grasp Asadi's functional hand and force her away from approaching the insufferable beast or thing or one consciousness of many, as he feels such a maneuver would be exceedingly unwise given her current view of him, as evidenced by the dull, continuous throb of his cheekbone.

"Fuck off," he says blithely.

[ofschrodinger]

The cat's head gives an incremental tilt to one side as it watches Jay's ungainly attempts to move. All of you belong to me, it says, as if reassuring an adopted child that it is just as much a part of the family as anyone else. But you don't belong here, in this place.

Only then does it turn towards the other two, chin dipped and head pulled back in polite bewilderment. Such a mouth that one has. I beg your pardon, it says mildly, in deliberate contrast to Rush's unnecessary aggression. But I'm not talking to you.

There, that's sorted. Back to Jay. They are busy. You are a distraction.

[singthesong]

The Balladeer shifts uneasily as the silence stretches on. It's quiet, but still plenty loud; he knows it's still there. He's only just starting to consider leaving when his hand suddenly goes ice-cold. "Geez!" he snaps, snatching it away. "Could you not do that?"

A second later it occurs to him that maybe they can't not do it. "Can't you become visible?" he asks, this time sounding a little more concerned even as he rubs his affected hand gingerly with the other. The song's frightening, but Johnny's was too and he's since come to realize that maybe Johnny isn't a terrible person in and of himself. And even though he dreamed this before...he hasn't since. It hasn't latched onto him the way that house did. Maybe he should try a little harder this time.

"Are you - oh, wait." He thinks a moment, then taps first his left shoulder and then his right. "Here for yes, and here for no. Okay?" Without waiting for any kind of response, he charges forward. "Are you Jay?"

[deadeyedchild]

Iman shoots a sharp look at Rush, halfway between vindication and bewilderment. There is something here, something the cat can speak to.

"What is it?" she asks. Maybe something polite will get through. Might not be the right way to phrase it, though. She tries again: "Who are they?"


"But I-" Jay looks from the woman to the cat. "They're trying to help me," he says, hating the pleading note that gets into his voice, or the idea of his voice, desperation mingled with frustration. Are cats going to show up whenever he gets close to being perceived?

[deadeyedchild]

Oh thank fuck for this guy. If Jay had knees, at least in the sense that they were holding him up, they'd probably buckle from relief right now. He reaches out quickly, too eager now to be nervous, and bats at the man's left shoulder as directed. This isn't much but it's something, it's acknowledgment, for the first time in a while.

[lottawork]

That certainly lends a reassessing eye to the entire manner. Rush narrows his eyes at it dubiously. This particular specimen differs vastly from their past experience with the Rift-mandated thing in the recognizable shape of a feline in both appearance and temperament, possibly an indication of the Rift's momentary personal outlook.

"Do you have nothing better to do," he says in scornful disbelief. "The fucking city is populated by anomalies. What makes this one any more notable compared to the rest."

[deadeyedchild]

Successfully shooed off by the cat, Jay irritably departs the scientists-and-dog apartment and spends some time sullenly exploring the rest of the building. Most people either aren't in or aren't as keen to notice him as the scientists were. He spends some time trying to get someone to notice that their cat was watching his every move, but it all turned out to be absolutely futile.

So far the guitar man was the only person he actually recognized, and the only person who was about to communicate with him at all. The scientists probably would have been able to help too, if the cat had let them.

It's going to be so much work getting out of this stupid building. For whatever reason going up is way easier than going down. If he can get back down to street level, he can go to the park, heads off across it - that should be where his building is. He thinks. If he could just find Tim...

Tim wouldn't know what to do either.

He sighs, ghostlike and silent, and floats through a wall into another apartment.

This one is kind of nice. Homey. It smells good, he thinks - smells are pretty dulled, but it's strong enough for him to pick up on it, and it's comforting. He moves in toward the little kitchen, not even noticing as he displaces a bunch of flour particles, sending them swirling gently around his shape.

It's Greta. Oh thank goodness, finally a familiar face, finally someone who knows what happened to him. He reaches it out, though he hesitates before touching her. He doesn't want to alarm her, and also, he doesn't want the cat to come here, too.

[ofschrodinger]

The cat lifts a forepaw and stretches it in Iman's direction as if to say: hold, please. To Jay, it says, They have other work. Important work. It doesn't expect Jay to understand how important - humans are such myopic little things - but he doesn't need the details, regardless. Try elsewhere. They aren't the only ones who might help.

It turns its gaze back to Iman and Rush, tail idly sweeping the counter top. No need to concern yourselves. You have other matters to attend to. A brief, pointed glance at the troublesome arm. I apologize for the distraction.

It rises to all fours, then dips its forequarters in a languid stretch. You're welcome to leave on your own, it tells Jay as it kneads the counter with its paws. Otherwise, I shall have to carry you.

[deadeyedchild]

Ugh. How fast can he say no to that tempting offer. Not fast enough. He raises his hands in defeat.

"Fine," he grumbles. "Whatever."

He likes the way the Scottish guy talks to these things, but he suspects he wouldn't if he knew what they were capable of.

He casts a weary, mournful glance at the two strangers and drifts out through the wall.


Iman can't perceive any change, but of course she can't. Doesn't make it any harder to guess what's happened. The cat's gone and scared away the most interesting thing in the room.

"Oh, sure," she mutters. "Can't have anything interesting happen, can we."

[lottawork]

It apologizes. Oh, how graceful of it. How accommodating. How deceivingly well-mannered.

Rush hisses once between his teeth as the dog quiets, whatever potential for discovery with an interactive peculiarity dissipating as it apparently dissolves into the fucking ether.

"That's perfect," he says in unveiled disgust, his limited patience with the thing wearing to its absolute nadir. "Truly. Pure dead brilliant."

[andhiswife]

She doesn't notice the peculiar eddies in the airborne flour right away, but after a moment she lifts her head without quite knowing why she felt the need to do so. There's nothing to see. The apartment is plainly empty aside from herself. More to the point, it's warded, so there really is no need to be jumpy. The corners of her mouth tick down into a self-recriminating frown, and she flips the dough over, giving the gesture a bit more emphasis than is strictly necessary. A fresh puff of flour wafts into the air, and--

--WHAT.

The cloud of white dust breaks in midair like a wave against the shore, but the shape revealed by the negative space is human, and it's reaching for her, and she stumbles back into the refrigerator with a cry of alarm.

[ofschrodinger]

There are plenty of things to interest you here already, the cat points out with a seemingly infinite reserve of patience. Do some math. Do some science. Read a book. Use your imagination. Honestly, the possibilities are endless.

If nothing else, they could spend a few minutes reflecting on how lucky they are that this particular cat sees no need to banish their implied boredom with something truly and deeply unpleasant.

It pushes its whiskers forward and chuffs at them. Look at how nice it's being. Carry on with your work. We'll be keeping an eye on your progress. It almost makes such scrutiny sound like a compliment.

Then, as abruptly as it appeared, the cat is gone.

[etherthief]

Iman huffs loudly, for a moment just staring at the empty space previously occupied by smug cat fuck with immense indignation. Then she looks over at Rush.

"Well," she says drolly. "I don't know about you, but I feel better already."

So much for working on shit that isn't her arm or their issues.

[singthesong]

The Balladeer grits his teeth, fighting the urge to step back as the chill jolts through his shoulder.

"Okay," he says, a little breathlessly. "O-kay. I thought you said you were stuck in dreams?" That's not a yes-or-no question, he knows, and he starts getting out his phone and fiddling with it as he continues. "Sorry about all that. I wasn't really myself in that one...I'm not sure how many of us were. Could you back up a little? You're getting loud."

He still doesn't react to any noise Jay actually makes, but he doesn't seem inclined to explain himself. "I'll let Bee know you're out. She was looking for you earlier."

[deadeyedchild]

Jay falters a little as the guy starts barreling off in a direction he can't follow. To be fair he's not sure what else the guy can ask, it's not like they know each other really, it's a miracle enough that he even remembers who Jay is.

And what the fuck is getting loud supposed to mean? He drifts awkwardly back a few paces, feeling vaguely disgruntled. "I thought you couldn't hear me," he blurts, but there's still no sound. That's not what he means, somehow. Whatever.

Who the fuck is Bee?! Jay feels more lost than ever, but he can't do anything but wait for more cues.

[deadeyedchild]

Wh- holy shit, can she see him? He pulls back, just as startled, and it's only then that he notices the flour swirling around him. Wait, what? He reaches out for it experimentally and it falls through his hand and his fingers. He can't catch it - it doesn't stick to him. All he does is displace it.

Okay so how the fuck is he supposed to make her keep knocking flour clouds up?

He raises a hand and tries to wave gently, not sure what the hell else to do. He'd like to hope the motion is at all understandable, but as the flour settles it becomes harder to make a clear shape.

[peacefulexplorer]

There's something familiar about the shape drifting through the city on an abstracted scale. Selective visibility has gotten easier, at least - though it's really more difficult to will himself to appear to someone rather to than simply wander the city, imperceptible to the vast majority.

He can feel the catching and releasing of souls as they're eased from the city's grasp and beyond his reach, and the whole of him aches, though whether with longing or bewilderment or loss, he can never be sure.

Daniel makes the spectral shape of himself visible to the thing in front of him, floating through buildings without any clear path, its atoms scattered into an alarmingly discordant configuration.

It's just as well that Daniel isn't capable of true corporeality, because when he manifests, they're both in the middle of a wall.

"Oh," says Daniel, his shape frowning at the brick-and-morter vertically bisecting his face. He looks up and peers at the consciousness across from him. "Er - don't I know you?"

[deadeyedchild]

"Jesus-!" Jay yelps when the comparative giant appears in the wall with him, flailing backwards. He takes a moment to pull himself more or less together, looking at the man as the actual question registers, and he realizes yeah, actually he does know him.

"D- Daniel, right?" He rights himself slowly. "You can see me." Duh.

[peacefulexplorer]

"Yes," says Daniel, the word an inquiring pull. The alarmed reaction is just something he's come to get used to - there's simply no way to ease anyone to his presence, least of all while they exist in a halfway-metaphysical state themselves. Or - whatever it is the other awareness in front of him is; he's not sure exactly.

Finally the gradual realization clicks, and his expression floods with recognition. "Jay," he says, relieved that the other man's name and the memory of their previous encounter comes rushing back to him. "You got out."

[singthesong]

A brief flurry of texting ensues. After a moment, the Balladeer makes a small surprised sound. "Oh, sorry. I thought you two actually knew each other."

He himself doesn't know who on earth Tim is. It's lucky Jay used to live in Bee's building, too, because the Balladeer's never actually been there. "Okay. She says she knows Tim, and she wants you to head back to your building - she lives there too." Can she still see his patterns when he's invisible? Probably not...but there's still the cold spots. "Sound good?"

[andhiswife]

The shape jerks back, as if surprised at being caught out. She half-expects it to rally and rush toward her, finish whatever grim business it's come here to do. Why is this happening to her? What is it? She can't tear her eyes away from it, even as the settling flour makes its shape harder to pick out. One hand gropes blindly at the counter behind her for a moment before seizing the handle of a bread knife, and she points it at the fading shape defensively.

"Um." It's fading further without the flour dust to define it, and she shifts nervously. Seeing it is frightening, not seeing it is worse. God, what if it starts moving around? It could end up anywhere, and she'd have no idea. "Ummmm," she says again, more frantic and keening this time, before making a mad dart towards the island and swatting over the bag of flour. Then she skips back again, knife clutched in both hands.

It's a solid blow, and the bag both coughs out a large puff of white dust and sends some of what already covered the counter floating back into the air. The shape is where she left it, still standing beside the island, and it's... it's just standing there, arms raised in an unmistakably pacifying gesture. As if she's scared it.

Greta's brow furrows, and the knife dips for a moment. "I--" Well, she's not going to apologize. Nor is she relinquishing the upper hand, if she actually has it. She lifts the knife again, eyes narrowing. "What do you want?"

[deadeyedchild]

Jay watches him text with mounting impatience, waiting for some kind of payoff. This is not going at all in the direction he thought it would, though to be fair, when has anything in his entire life. Remember when Alex gave you two bags of tapes he'd planned to burn, told you never to mention it, and then attacked you and left you sprawled in the grass? No, you don't. False memories and inexplicable turns of events, that's all your life is now.

Hearing that Bee knows Tim - okay, that's better. That's something. Maybe she was that tiny girl who was with him in that weird dream? She'd acted like she knew him.

Well you're in luck, Bee, he wants to get to his building too. But he has no idea where it fucking is. His sense of direction was never very good to begin with and now it's completely off.

He wrestles for a moment with what to do. He can't really ask questions. He doesn't want to signal no because that would be too misleading. But this guy doesn't seem entirely equipped to help him beyond that.

Sighing silently, he struggles forward and reaches to tap his left shoulder again. He'll figure it out. He'll find his way home, and at least someone knows he's here - and she can tell Tim that, presumably.