(Untitled)

[ahogarse]

[pre-milliways]

We all are told from when we're little that it's not good to believe in ghosts.  
This holds more true in some worlds than in others.  In Milliways, for example, it makes no sense, because half the patrons are deceased, or in various stages of it.  Mostly, that's a pretty death.  A clean death.  An 'oh, I've died, how odd, I think I

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[rigthegames]

Sands smells the blood before he sees anything, and that alone is enough to make him pause.

“Oh fuck,” he murmurs, because knowing his luck someone’s gone and murdered someone, and being on the scene of the crime is never a good thing (especially when, for once, it’s a crime he didn’t commit).

But, you can’t just walk away from that sort of thing, can you? Hell, Sands has to go and investigate now. It’s far too intriguing to pass up.

[ahogarse]

There's a dart, a hint of movement.

A shadow, with no real features, rushing from behind one tree to the next, further away from Sands. Child-sized, and accompanied by no noise of footsteps, or of bramble crackling. The only sound is of a gasp.

[rigthegames]

It may be the only sound, but it’s enough.

Sands turns, eyes narrowed against the gloom as he listens.

“Well?” he calls out. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, and all that shit.”

[ahogarse]

"No puedo."

Other than that, there's silence. He almost thinks he shouldn't have answered.

This man is strange.

[scaredbybook]

It is up to the individual!

Kira runs away, screaming.

[ahogarse]

Faintly, there can be heard;

"Lo siento."

[scaredbybook]

It's amazing how she's running while screaming at the top of her lungs, isn't it?

Since he isn't chasing her, Kira doesn't even fall down! She does cross the distance between herself and the bar door and vanish inside in a new personal best.

She'll be under the bed now.

[eiattu_pride]

He was walking. Was being the word at hand here, because no he's frozen very, very still. There's blood in the air, and he recognizes it easily. The wind seems to be whispering to him.

Rial freezes, and tries to will himself to believe that there is nothing there.

[ahogarse]

There's nothing there, except a faint shimmer of skin, a forehead and hands, as though someone's peeking out from behind a tree. A flash of red.

[eiattu_pride]

There is nothing. There is nothing but there, in the corner of his eye. Someone - only he can't really tell if it is someone or just a trick of the light but if it is, if it is, then it's a child-sized someone.

"Who's there?"

And maybe his voice isn't as strong as it could be, but that's of no matter.

[ahogarse]

There's no answer, except a very definite gasp. A rustle, as though of fabric. Or of water.

[over_europe]

Lewis Nixon had a briefing to give, in about three minutes. Thankfully for his need for nicotine, though, when he hauled open the door, it led to Milliways. Nobody in England will know if he takes a short smoke break, and since he's going to, might as well enjoy the view.

He pauses down by the edge of the lake, cupping his hand around the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. He flicks the lighter off in a practiced move and drops it back into a uniform pocket, and as he takes a deep drag, he thinks he sees something move in the woods.

Nix frowns, eyes narrowing, and he looks closer.

[ahogarse]

This might not be the best introduction to Milliways he'll ever get, since Santi himself has just arrived and is eight years old and confused and only speaks Spanish.

And is dead. Standing there, at the edge of the woods, pale and bleeding and half-translucent, and very confused.

[over_europe]

The figure comes into view, and Nix's face shifts, his cigarette teetering between two fingers.

A low, heartfelt, "Holy fucking shit" escapes his suddenly thick throat, and he takes an instinctive step backward. That's some fucked up makeup runs through his mind, but he can see through the kid. It's not stage makeup. He stands frozen, eyes wide and disbelieving.

[ahogarse]

Santi lowers his head a little, and slips half-behind the tree.

This isn't a good place to be, he's starting to think. There are more people here than there were in the basement back home.

[maydaybrat]

Mordred doesn't say anything, really. The air around him is cold, cold as winter over a thousand years ago, cold as death for all that is a cliche. His skin is too pale, far too pale, but he is more there then Santi. No flash of bone.

Just, sometimes, the flash of blood as he smiles.

So the ghost prince tilts his head, a little, like many things but none of the human. And despite the coldness in his voice, despite the steel and ice, his soft voice is gentle.

"Come out, boy."

[ahogarse]

He doesn't understand the words, but he recognizes the feel and tone. And it's gentle.

So he steps out of the woods, hanging back at the very edge. He's learned it's best not to be seen.

[maydaybrat]

"It's okay, boyo." Mordred says, still in that gentle tone of voice. He doesn't move forwards, but then he doesn't want to scare him.

"I won't hurt you. You see, you're like me. Dead. Ghost. It's okay, boyo."

[ahogarse]

Santi moves forwards all in a rush, through the open space so he's next to Mordred, never quite exposed. He trusts ghosts. He really does. And Mordred sounds like he knows what he's doing.