milliways_bar DUA - Dead Upon Arrival

[nolongerhunted]

Coming out of the door she heard it shut behind them. The air that hit them was nice and warm, sunny. Or at least it would hit Hao. Her, on the other hand, wouldn't seem to be there at all. The spirit was there but the body itself was not. It was in the ground somewhere. Although, how exactly they'd find her grave from here was beyond her. Could he

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[500_year_shaman]

"Ahh... The sun is nice," Hao says, turning his face into it. "It's a pity you can't feel it."

He can see her. He can hear her. He's even still holding her hand; there are advantages to being a shaman.

[nolongerhunted]

"I know what it feels like." But then again she knew something else too. Something hotter and more violatile than the sun. Blue eyes blinked however when she realized that he was still holding her hand. "There are days I wish I could feel it over again. But I can't."

Looking around and figuring out what area they were in she started them on their walk. How far the cemetary was from here she didn't know, couldn't remember. Or maybe she'd just never known at all.

[500_year_shaman]

Hao is content to follow her, for the moment.

"You could move on, and reincarnate," he points out. "Then you could feel the sun again. If you'd really like to, I'd loan you my body for a while."

[nolongerhunted]

"Except where I can't move on." She couldn't lose Sam and moving on would make her lose the last thing that connected her with life. Although, at the last part she blinked slightly.

"That sounds a bit weird."

[500_year_shaman]

"Not really. Many spirits have trouble moving on," Hao replies. "That's part of what a shaman does; help the dead move on."

[nolongerhunted]

She frowns at that. That wasn't truly an option for her. Not when Sam was... "I wouldn't know how to move on. I couldn't just up and leave or whatever that's meant to be."

[500_year_shaman]

"You have unfinished business, then," Hao says. "Well, like I said, I can help you finish it. It's what a shaman does."

[nolongerhunted]

She shook her head. "No, my unfinished business is being taken care of by someone else because they can take care of what killed me." A frown crosses her features and it deepens at the thought. She wouldn't do this to herself. And he couldn't expect her to crossover. She wouldn't do it. Not if it meant permanently dying.

[500_year_shaman]

"Relax," Hao says softly. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

[nolongerhunted]

"What if I'm never ready?"

[500_year_shaman]

"Then you will stay a ghost, and eventually become a greater spirit," Hao replies. "It will take around six-hundred years though. Eventually, you may forget your human shape, or you might keep it forever; either one is equally likely."

[nolongerhunted]

This was hurting her head and confusing her more than anything. "When you move on you're dead. Completely dead." She says finally walking into the cemetary that they were coming upon. "And I'm not so sure I can handle this too much longer." Being dead kind of irked her. Letting go of his hand she walks over and kneels before her own grave.

"This is it."

[500_year_shaman]

"You're already completely dead," Hao replies. "What most humans-" it's very clear from the way he says it that he does not consider himself such "-don't seem to consider is that death isn't the end. It is merely another stage in existence. You can move on, and reincarnate, or remain behind, and become something else. Or you can be consumed by a greater spirit, or be banished by an exorcism... It's all a matter of choice, and circumstance, no different from life."

[nolongerhunted]

"I know I'm dead. I relive the night I was killed every single day." She whispers. "And when one doesn't know how all of that works it doesn't help." She didn't see anything worth... actually, she wasn't sure what to think. And this wasn't helping. It was just making her long to be something she couldn't be.

[500_year_shaman]

Hao sits down by her grave, and bows his head for a moment, clapping his hands twice, in an old, familiar, ritual fashion.

"You haven't accepted that you are dead," he states. "And so you dwell on the manner of your death."

[nolongerhunted]

"Wrong." She states simply. "I've accepted that I'm dead. I've known that since the day I walked into that weird ass bar." She looks down at her own grave stone. "And if I hadn't of been murdered by a demon then I probably wouldn't dwell on my death."