Specters and Strangers
29th of September 2006 A.D.
The Dead come forth like pale fireflies drawn to the deeper light of Lydia's aura, figures of mist and memory all, women in wide skirts and fathered hats that waft like smoke into the clear evening air, men in frock coats and bow-ties smiling from behind an assortment of facial hair that seems the most expressive about them. There are you note a lot more young men than women, the First World War more than the second had filled these graves, And then there's the children. It's hard not to flinch when you see them especially the handful few marked and mangled by the teeth of industry, but like their elders they seem cheerful at the prospect of dancing under the moon. They are less weary in their greetings of you more willing to approach...
"Do you have a familiar too?" A dark haired girl asks, her voice a louder than most, the powder blue of her dress clearer among the mist. Her pallor speaks less of fading spirit and more to the manner of her death, as does the blood in the corner of her mouth. The quiet killer had taken her, the 'good death', what they had called consumption.
"Too?" you ask startled even as the music begins to play around you, a dozen mismatched instruments somehow in eerie harmony, a jaunty folk tune that twists uneasily into a minor key and back again.
Silently the girl points towards the branches of a large oak tree where a glossy black bird, a raven you think, sits unnaturally still.
"Oh right, that's midnight my familiar, he's shy," Lydia says. After a moment's pause she admits. "Well OK, Midnight's more than a little scared of you."
Oh... You shake your head sadly, but resolve there's no time like now to fix the problem. "It's OK, I don't mean Lydia any harm see. Come on let's open this dance up."
She giggles and demure, nose pointed dramatically upwards. "I don't know any of your colonial dances." For all the things Lydia does well faking a British Accent is not one of them, laughter echoes strangely from one set of insubstantial lips to another. Maybe it's a trick of the light, but it looks to you like more color is flowing into the guests as they do so, shifting from colorless to sepia to as colorful as the little girl's dress.
Speaking of said girl. "Oh silly me, I didn't introduce myself did I? I'm so out of practice. My name's Madeline, Madeline Jones." Voice dropping to a whisper she adds. "Don't tell anyone but this is my park."
"Really?" you ask in an interested tone you've had a lot of practice in.
Madeline nods firmly, ringlets bouncing all the while. "I wanted to go the park before when I was sick, but mama said I couldn't and I was glum, but then I woke up here lying in the grass, it was great. Then the Hookman said it wasn't a park but a gravayard, he said all sorts of nasty things about how I'd been a naughty girl and sinned, but I didn't believe him. I shouted at him to go away, but he was really strong on account of how
mean he was. Then... they they started taking folks out of the ground, it was most bizarre so I asked a fella who was 'taking the poppy' 'cause they can see us better and he said this was a park now, a nature preserve he called it, so I got to the park in the end see. Say what do poppies have to do with seeing the dead? I never could get Mrs Rutherford to explain that to me."
Does too young to know about drugs count for a girl whose been dead for more than a hundred years? you wonder, though not for long as the sound of soft wings herald's the approach of Lydia's familiar. Midnight lands on his mistress' shoulder with a thump that might have unbalanced someone less sure on her feet.
Wait didn't you have...? Searching around your clutch for a bit you find the bag of peanuts you had stashed in there this morning and carefully offer some of them to the bird. He looks at you for a moment, suspicion warring with hunger and... you suspect, curiosity, before he snaps up some of the treats.
A cold breeze tugs at your dress. "Do you have a familiar then?" Madeline presses. "In your purse?"
She means Clippy, you realize. Briefly you contemplate trying to explain mobile phones to someone who had died when landlines were new. Then you come upon a solution. "Say Maddy, do you want to meet some nice police officers?"
"Sure, my daddy was a volunteer fireman you know...." And she is off to the races. In the time it takes you to walk back along the wooded path you learn more about the old volunteer firemen than you had ever known.
To his credit Detective Stallings turns at the sound of your approach. "What do you...?" The words die on his lips as he realizes the girl next to you isn't entirely there, the blue of her dress fading into the roiling mist.
"This is Madeline Jones and she has
all sorts of questions," you emphasize in a way sure to fly right over the kid's head, at had over yours at her age after all. "I thought maybe you could help her out. Explain opium cell phones and whatever else she might want to know about. Maybe in exchange she can teach you something about ghosts."
In response the officer gives you a bewildered look that Madeline misinterprets. "I know I'm a ghost, I'm not
stupid."
That seems to break the ice, or maybe the detective's sense of the real. Soon enough he's giving the 'drugs are bad' speech to a fascinated and only temperately silent ghost girl.
Lost 1 Essence -> Now at 11/12
As you wonder back among the graves, the inhabitants whispering to each other like the rustle of dry leaves or dancing in half remembered melodies Lydia walks up to you looking.... a lot less cheerful than you had left her. "What's the matter?"
"We've just had unexpected guests, one of the Jade Court from the feel of him according to dad, though he claims he's just a messenger who wants to speak to the Seed of Elder Night, that's you I bet. He feels pretty young to me, I'm betting I could kick him out on my own if you don't want to deal him or his message..."
"No," you cut her off. "Disrespecting a messenger like that is a declaration of war from the loss of face alone. I'll talk to him." Though if he already knows what you bear you wonder if it might not be worth it to kindle your anima the better to make who and what they are dealing with.
How do you meet the Jade Court vampire?
[] As you are, no need to spook the spooks
[] Flare your anima, make it clear that against you threat and treachery both will fail
[] Write in
OOC: What's a party without someone to crash it?