(no subject)
Who: Danny and anyone within splash radius.
Where: Espoir, by the fountain
Style: Start and I'll follow!
Status: OPEN like a Fenton Ghost Portal without a DNA lock!
Dusk is one of the hardest times to see much of anything. There's too much light for eyes to adjust to spotting moving shadows, and there's just too little light to pretend it's still day. As far as Danny can tell, it's probably the only reason he's still sitting there by the fountain in ghost form, undisturbed.
"This is too weird," he mutters, fidgeting on the cold bench. Every moment spent there feels like he's pushing his luck, and yet it just doesn't run out. He knows why it's still working: no one is passing close enough to him to notice that he's semi-transparent and glowing. With everyone in such a hurry to get out of the cold, he could sit there all night!
"Yeah, right," he says, finally standing up. He could sit there, if it hadn't gotten to the point that the apathy was starting to creep him out. After a brief stretch, he turns--and slips on a patch of ice made from water splashed out of the fountain. Cue for staggering and waving arms, all of it leaning dangerously close to the seriously too cold fountain.
"Whoa, whoa--whoa!"
Where: Espoir, by the fountain
Style: Start and I'll follow!
Status: OPEN like a Fenton Ghost Portal without a DNA lock!
Dusk is one of the hardest times to see much of anything. There's too much light for eyes to adjust to spotting moving shadows, and there's just too little light to pretend it's still day. As far as Danny can tell, it's probably the only reason he's still sitting there by the fountain in ghost form, undisturbed.
"This is too weird," he mutters, fidgeting on the cold bench. Every moment spent there feels like he's pushing his luck, and yet it just doesn't run out. He knows why it's still working: no one is passing close enough to him to notice that he's semi-transparent and glowing. With everyone in such a hurry to get out of the cold, he could sit there all night!
"Yeah, right," he says, finally standing up. He could sit there, if it hadn't gotten to the point that the apathy was starting to creep him out. After a brief stretch, he turns--and slips on a patch of ice made from water splashed out of the fountain. Cue for staggering and waving arms, all of it leaning dangerously close to the seriously too cold fountain.
"Whoa, whoa--whoa!"