No One Ever Really Dies (Ghost)

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No One Ever Really Dies (Ghost)

Post  Ezikeel on Thu Feb 05, 2015 7:40 am

"A skeleton lay at the bottom of a catacomb, the empty sockets in its skull dimly lit by a pale magenta glow which occasionally flickered slightly, like a candle burnt nearly to the end of its wick. It wasn't a new installation in the cave. In fact, it had been a handsome young man once, not too terribly long ago. But the young man's handsome face had long since rotted away, what skin and scuz was left behind had been eaten by the bats and rats and bugs that inhabited the cavern, leaving only clean white skull to stare morosely up at the stalactite ceiling.

It was rather pathetic, really."

"I can hear you, Randall."

"Oh, can you? I thought you'd given up and died already."

"If only that were an option. It'd at least get me away from you."

"I appreciate your dry humor, Lewis. I really do. You make delightful company, did you know that?" A single bat fluttered down from the ceiling, alighting clumsily on the skull. Bats are not graceful creatures, and were never really meant to walk on their legs. That didn't stop him from trying, though.

"While I'm sure all the sexy bat ladies up there would love to stare at your junk all day long, Randall, I would prefer not to. So would you kindly get your fat, blind ass off of me?"

"Racist."

"Bats are not a race! They're a species!"

"Speciesist."

"You're not even really a bat!"

"It's the principal of the matter, Lewis."

There was a rumble, not unlike distant thunder, and a single stalactite fell to the floor inches away from them, shattering and pelting them both with rocks. "GET. OUT."

Seeming to know when he wasn't wanted, the small, greenish bat hopped off of the skull's eyebrow ridge and flapped his wings a few times, getting a bit of height. But, instead of doing the intelligent thing and minding his own business, he did a sort of twirl in the air and seemed to stretch out; his wings became a great cape, draped across the shoulders of a rather emaciated-looking, ashen-skinned boy with luminous green eyes and goofy looking spikes of hair sticking straight up in the air like some sort of antennae. "There's no need to be violent, Lewis. And, really, is it necessary to wreck the place like that? This was my home long before it was yours."

"This is NOT my home, Randall. I'm trapped here, and so are you, and we'll be stuck here together for eternity or until the place falls down around our ears."

"Doesn't mean you have to make it happen faster, my friend."

"I'm not your friend, pal."

"I'm not your pal, buddy."

"I'm not playing your stupid games, Randall. Get. Out."

"Why are you so moody? One little setback and you act like it's the end of the world." He leaned his chin lazily on a stalagmite whose tip had broken off and worn flat years ago.

"What, exactly, do you expect me to do, Randall? I failed. I won't get my revenge, they're never coming back, and now I'm stuck here in limbo with some shitty Twilight ripoff."

"Hey now! That's going a little far, don't you think?"

"You're right. The Cullens would never let you join their clan. Too ugly."

"Ugh! And here I was going to help you."

"Help me do what?"

"Get that revenge you were talking about."

"And how, exactly, do you propose I lure them back here when they already know it's a trap?"

"Well, you and I can't leave here, Lewis... But they can." He gestured to the myriad of bats hanging from the stalactites above. "And if, for instance, they were to go and take something that your 'friends' hold dear, then they would have no choice but to come and get it, right?"

"...what's in it for you?"

"Me? Why, just the satisfaction of seeing my good friend Lewis accomplish his goals! What other reason do I need?" he asked, smiling toothily. Of course he had an ulterior motive. Both of them knew it. But that didn't mean he had to say what it was. "Just trust me, Lewis. I'll do my part. You do yours."

The pale light in the skeleton's eyes flared to life and it rose suddenly from its prison among a dense cluster of very sharp stalagmites on the floor. Magenta flames danced up its body, leaving a blackened char that seemed to solidify into clothing in its wake.

"Fine," Lewis said. "I'll bite. But don't think you've got your hooks in me just yet, Randall. I've got my eyes on you."

"I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about, Lewis. Really."

A bat, as if disturbed from its slumber by the purple flames below, took off suddenly, flying towards the distant mouth of the cave. It spread its wings wide, swooping out into the frigid evening air, its course set for the lights of the city ahead.
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Re: No One Ever Really Dies (Ghost)

Post  THISLOSERHERE on Thu Feb 05, 2015 8:43 am

At the given moment, Arthur was tinkering with his prosthetic arm at the counter of Kingsmen Mechanics, his uncle's shop.

Vivi was standing across from him, an absolutely dreamy look in her eyes as she talked about some supposedly haunted place she wanted to go and check out as a group, to find if it was truely haunted and if they could put its ghost to rest.

Arthur wasn't actually paying attention to her (which was both good and bad. Bad he's probably wind up agreeing to go with her and good because if he were paying attention, he'd be too busy trying to tell her no or make up plans that he'd mess something up with his prosthetic), instead paying attention to Galahad and making sure the rodent wasn't hoarding the screws he was replacing.
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Re: No One Ever Really Dies (Ghost)

Post  Ezikeel on Sat Feb 14, 2015 8:50 am

In the midst of their conversation, there was a sudden rattling at the window. A little black bat (perhaps it had the slightest tinge of green to it), was trying it's damndest to open the window and let itself in. It was rather... cute, actually. Besides the fangs, that is. But it's tiny, fluffy, pudgy body was simply not made for lifting heavy windows, so it struggled futilely, like Sisyphus.
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Re: No One Ever Really Dies (Ghost)

Post  THISLOSERHERE on Tue Jun 09, 2015 9:11 pm

Vivi continued on about the haunted place, not even noticing the rattling over the noises of Arthur working on his arm and the squeak of Galahad's wheels. Arthur heard it, however, and paused, looking up at the window. His brows knit in confusion at the actions of the small pudgy bat, and he quietly stood up to move closer.

Vivi noticed Arthur stand and frowned at him. "Arthur?" she asked "What are you doing?"
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