deadeyedchild: I haven't been as paranoid (hide behind the lens)
Jay Merrick ([personal profile] deadeyedchild) wrote in [community profile] bigapplesauce2015-07-28 01:27 am

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

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!
peacefulexplorer: (Ascended | Action | electric boogaloo)

[personal profile] peacefulexplorer 2015-07-30 01:48 am (UTC)(link)
"I could try." Jay seems understandably hesitant about the idea, but outside of giving him a truncated step-by-step instructional guide on How To Be Incorporeal In A World That Is Largely Not, Daniel doesn't know how else he can help. He can't simply walk away; that's not what he does, that's not what he is.

Marshaling what little power he has here hasn't always gone well, but Jay's pattern of being is so shattered and fragile and helpless and - it's what he does. He'll rend himself apart if it does something, anything to help.

He smiles at the wisp of a man in front of him, and it's too tired and too pained.

"I don't think I can, at this point," he says with something approaching wry humor. "You don't need to do anything. Just - stay where you are."

To exist as energy is to project one's will with a thought. He is thought, bound in form, absolute, transcendent.

His visible form condenses into light, blindingly white and impossibly brilliant, collecting to pool in Jay's insubstantial chest.

Daniel exercises every atom under his jurisdiction with the will to transduce the energy before him into matter. Into matter, solidity, mass, able to be executed upon by kinetic force. The potential for life already exists on every level, in the vaguely electromagnetic buzz of Jay's transparent physiology, in the quantum haze of his construction, the faded, unmoored collective of his being. Daniel wills it to change, alter its phase. Open, exist, be.

Daniel feels his continuous stream of will and intent and energy shatter under the duress of a single thought:

Crap.

And the next moment, the light is gone.