|
<<Anyone with a plot idea, or sub-plot for now, feel free to pm me it. I've been distracted lately, with finals, and am a bit muddled as of currently.>>
"Of course you can... They have amphibious cars out there." He defends himself. "The other shoes weren't heavy enough. Or black enough." He replies, he rather liked his shoes. Mitsuki no longer feels the cold, and thus runs back off into the forest. She got out of sight from the little town, and shifted into her two-legged form. She shakes her hair, covering her ears, and fixing her flower. Making sure she looks normal, she exits the forest, from a slightly different angle from before. The young Silverfox was shaken, almost visibly so, from her encounter, and from her dash in public. Though, any humans that saw her would just say she was a strange coloured fox, and forget about it. It wasn't them she was worried about. |
Sam eyes the fire escape, pointed out by a third dragon.
He nods his thanks, and pushes through the crowd, not caring if an alarm goes off or not. His Pepsi starts to freeze as he walks outside in the snow. He casually uses a warming spell to warm his drink as he walks. |
The music shop was in for a bit of therapy from the ghost. Not for them, really they would probably need therapy after he got done, but he needed to get his mind off of all this awkward Cold. How do you feel better as a ghost? Spooking. Spooking essentially was what you always hear about in horror movies, horror stories, video games, ect. As a ghost you open up your imagination and let it flow in your place of existence and then just go crazy. Even with the little control you have you can never quite know what is going to happen. That was half the fun.
He lifted his hands up and felt at the waves of light and sound...and begin. To begin a sound, the victims were about to escape so he needed a noise in the back. He went with a shrilling female scream accompanied by something sounding rather nasty. He prepared his next move for when they went back to check on it. Or even if they both looked away from the door for a second, which was basically copying the image of one of the walls and pasting it over the door so it looked like there was suddenly no way out of the little shop from hell. After that he would have to sprunge in some maniacal murderer's laugh and maybe manipulate words printed all over the shop to say scary things like, "It's so cold..." or "DIE..." or "HA HA HA!" And this was just the beginning. (Kay Lyndon and Landon, horror movie time. xB) |
Lyden struggled not to laugh at Landon's attempts to defend his words.
"Sure they do...And I'm part beast." He smirked before pausing and wincing slightly. He'd briefly forgotten the fact he was part beast, part werewolf to be precise. "I suppose that's a good enough excuse for the shoes though." He added. The door was about to open by his hand when he paused, letting go of Landon's hand to cover his ears at the shrill scream, magnified enough to give him a head ache afterwards by his accurate wolf senses. "I...I think I've gone deaf, can you hear a ringing?" He muttered, shaking his head a little. At the same time he glanced up, moving away from the door nervously. |
"What's with the screaming?...I haven't taught any lessons today." Landon wonders.
"Nope, no ringing....Just a really sharp F. Maybe an F##..." He replies, cringing, though more concerned, currently with the pitch than the possible cause. He could have said 'G' instead of 'F##', but he didn't. The scream didn't phase him too much, he'd heard better, and he'd heard worse. It sounded like a sharp oboe, kind of, a really bad sharp oboe. |
Elliott lifted his eyebrow at the one who seemed to lack a soul. It made him gag a little bit, even as a spirit he found that in bad taste. He figured that had earned a little geisting. Poltergeisting that is. He looked toward the instruments and began snapping strings for a whip like effect, gentle he made sure the sound was desperate and strained, he moved his sight to the disks and began tossing them with extreme prejudice having them stick into the walls to spell out,"paura mortale altissimo" He had never studied latin very hard so he wasn't sure if it was correct...but then again even spirits that knew what they were saying would amuse their fear by using bad grammar. Geh the one mortal still left a bad taste in his mouth, he might just possess him later to give him some extra flavor.
|
Tara's mind became decided. She had to find them, this person. She started walking briskly. She would visit everyone she knew and recruit them.
((Please post if you don't want her to visit you even, or you can simply say no when she gets there.)) She stopped, and put on a pair of gloves. She needed to protect herself against the wind, which was slightly cooler than she was used to this time of year. It was late, but she figured that if they were annoyed to death with her they'd be glad to now, and may even come with her. The streets were lit only by street light, but she could see just fine with her elven eyes. She was getting closer to the first house. |
A lifetime of suppressed emotions shows in Landon's seemingly nonchalant attitude.
Inwardly, he was a bit spooked, but if the ghost, for that's what irrational logic said the invisible force was, wanted a reaction, then that's exactly what he shouldn't give it. If only to annoy the being. "I don't know about you, Lyden, but I never took Latin. Gods, I hardly passed French, forget about Latin." His voice was steady, years of practice did that. It was hard to impress something on someone when they didn't understand it. Lyden's ears were probably killing him by now, and when anyone else came into the store, they'd probably die, make him clean the shop, and kill him, in any particular order. He starts moving towards the door, wondering if he'd have to grab Lyden on his way out. |
He raised his brow softly and sighed. He really wasn't one to play the power of Puppeteer, but the man was an annoyance. He lifted up and zoomed in on his mind reaching his hands into his skull then softly taking hold screaming his influence into his mind. If the creature was as smart as Elliott figured he was then this was going to be a fight...but he liked a fight. He might just drag his soul out for a minute so they could bring this into the transdimensional cleft, better known as the land of the dead. Where he lived, with all his undead buddies. If you know it can't hurt you of course you don't fear it...but this was a whole new story. Losing control of your body, entering the devious world of the spirits, seeing a grown man naked in a church pew. Those unexpected things that you don't understand...they will make him fear...though he lacked the last one.
((Ha you can't make this easy can ya?)) |
He wasn't whimpering like other werewolves he knew had done at such noises like this. But his hands had flown up to cover his ears and snarls were now creeping out every so often. He managed to hear Landon't words though, just.
"Heh, I didn't exactly go to school much...I got suspended too many times remember?" He chuckled faintly, remembering the conversations he and his parents had had with the head of the school about Lyden ditching school. "Mind you, it if was french I'd probably just about get it." He added, wincing slightly. "Damn I hate ghosts" He added, shaking his head to try and get rid of the noises. |
<<Of course not, why do something the easy way when you can over complicate it?>>
The feeling of another soul entering a body Landon had always claimed as his was interesting to say the least. He mused that if he were a vampire, things like this wouldn't happen to him, or at least they were less likely to. Sadly, he was just a human, but that didn't mean he was going to let this ghost commandeer his body. In his mind's eye, he could see the intruder, the ghost. "Get. Out." He growls, though whether just in his head, or out loud he didn't know. Now, more than ever Landon was sure this ghost wanted to spook him. As of yet, it wasn't happening. |
"You think you are the first creature to regret my entry? I've been dead much longer than you've been alive...Landon."
He was perfectly incorporeal now. Though somewhere you could tell he was grinning that devious grin of his. He was beginning to reach around the mind of his adversary, the name was always the easiest item to grab. Why do ghosts try to find the memories? It helps them impersonate the person when they grasp control. He was going to start control like most ghosts did, and I'm sure you've heard of it, at the weakest arm. He reached out left and right and realized which one was weaker then attempted to move it, like a mantra of perfect meditation. Move the arm. Move the arm. MOVE THE ARM. |
Lyden glanced at Landon now, frowning in suspicion.
"You feeling alright Landon, the ghost's spooks aren't getting to you are they?" He muttered, hand reaching out to lightly shake Landon by the shoulder. Lyden was almost blissfully unaware about the abilities of ghosts, having skipped that part of training from the elders in his pack. Farrow had taught him the basics though, which was why he knew this was the work of some should have passed on spirit. In turn Farrow had also taught her closest friends, including some female dragon. But that wasn't important to Lyden at the moment, not when his friend was acting slightly odd. |
Landon's right arm twitches, try as he might not move it.
"So is Mozart, but he had an after-life to go to." His thoughts retort. Cold logic said that if the ghost was in his mind, it would be easy to find his name. His left arm didn't move at all, but occasionally, his right fingers would twitch from the ghost's control. He could feel Lyden shaking his shoulder, but not like he would normally. Landon could feel his memories be watched, his thoughts being read. If it were someone else, Landon would have thought it funny, the battle of supremacy over control of someone's weakest arm. Currently, it was a stalemate. |
"Strong will. Heh thank fate, this should be amusing."
He was probing the memories still trying to twitch that arm. Though as Elliott had said he had a good will, and even years of training don't improve one's will. You are born with that willpower. So to say Elliott was unused to a challenge to his gifted will was a bit true. He pushed hard into his memories, men had an unfortunate weakness women didn't...well on occasion anyway. Men were easily manipulated in their sexuality...women, "So you like women eh? Have a few images from your mind, on me. Vivid and desperate, enjoy the show." He was twitch manipulating the neurotransmitters, dopamine up, serotonin down, epinephrine and norepinephrine up. Ghosts that are young want to try manipulating people through scaring them till they submit, but humans are much more likely to submit to pleasure than fear. |
Goddess, the senior prank from two schools ago was biting him in the arse.
Someone had thought it funny to hijack the school's newscast, and replace it with porn. He rolls his eyes at the rest of that particular memory, whilst trying to ignore the ghosts attempts. "It's my mind. My thoughts." His thoughts turn dark. When it came to love, he was picky. She had to like polka music, not be a whore, and at least be accepting of Wicca, if not a witch herself. His right hand twitches intermittently, he still had his own will yet. |
"Picky? Heh I must say that is a little interesting. If you weren't so repressed I might even consider trying to be pleasant to you."
But he was straight so what use was it? Elliott wasn't a pansexual guy that believed that he could convert men, neither did he care to. The human personality had a different addiction. Friends. Company of the most basic of sorts. When did we want this the most? Well at least some...when they are infected with a different kind of cold. Depression, sadness, loneliness of the specific sort, the warmth of others aided. Made you no longer care that it was so bad in this world. The boy was a child of nature, would that make him more susceptible? To tell truth Elliott didn't know, "You know when I was your age I died. The fear of that moment had me desperate for someone, anyone to comfort me while I was torn apart by the pain of my murderer's modus operandi. Feel the darkness of your coldest memories, and take my last moments as a bonus." |
((Because I feel like if I don't rp I will forget I'm in this))
She had waited long enough for either the birdboy to talk or the dragon. Neither felt compelled to speak anymore. A growl of annoyance bubble up from what seemed the pit of her stomach to settle nicely in her throat where it thrummed quite nicely. She stood up and threw alway the papers from her last to hamburgers. Dusted her hands of crumbs and bowed her head. "Thank you for the polite conversation." Catty, snotty and probably a bit bitchy...she really didn't care. They were the first two to be rude. She smiled politely and walked out of the burger joint. Two others had walked in that didn't smell like human but at the moment she was a bit too frustrated to care. She began walking down the sidewalk again and this time, she needed to get home. She needed to give the elders their music and she need a long heartfelt run through the creeks and forest. She blew a puff of air up and managed to get the hair out of her eyes. "C'est la vie..." she said more to herself than anyone as she stuck her hands in her pockets and bowed her head down from the winter wind. |
<<At least you still care about it, unlike some people...>>
"That's sweet, I'd still be a jerk, even if you weren't in my head." He'd never been one for being nice. It was true, he'd never had many friends, and moved around a lot. But, unlike his mum and sister, he was an introvert, and perfectly happy keeping to himself. He wasn't exactly misanthropic, but he did think most humans were idiots, and deserved Gaea's wrath. That did mean he'd never had any friends, and didn't miss them terribly, of course. "So, you were murdered. Lots of people are. Move on. Theoretically some god or other deity should still like you, even if you are psycho." His tone was a sarcastic form of helpful, one of his specialties. Above all, having a ghost reading your thoughts was keeping him focused. It was hard to freak out with an objective. |
((Does anyone want to get contacted first? 'Cuase I have no idea who I should do first...))
|
"Understandable, and truly it doesn't change how amused I may be by you."
Horniness? Nope. Love, not something easily simulated through what he had control of. Depression? Not working either. Kid was stoic. The reason why he was stoic was the issue here. He dug deep, deeper, deep to where he coudl head in his memories, "I got over my death long ago kid. And if I gave half a shit about deities these days I might have passed on by now. I love this planet, the weak willed easily shifted, the strong willed a challenge when the darkness is too easily given. My existence is amusement, and I'll take it when I can, now let's see that arm really move." The stoic often hid their past like it was their darkest secret, they wanted people to know them for the here and now, and not be influenced by their past. He pulled out a memory group that could only be called nostalgic and tried to force them to the forefront. Remember your darling past, and give in to the nostalgia thatinches across your mind. |
((you could contact me first...my charrie is walking back to her pack lands))
|
"Someone wasn't hugged enough as a child." Landon snickers.
A walk down memory lane couldn't possibly that bad. After all, he did remember them fondly. Playing games with the neighborhood children, watching Saturday morning cartoons, making cookies for Santa at Christmas-time. It was never the memories that hurt him, it was the simple fact that that's all they were, memories. That everywhere he moved to, past the age of five, he'd never had any friends, and spent his time alone. He'd eventually let go of the golden strand called childhood, and forged his own way. He abandoned the comfort of Christmas and embraced the joy and solace of the Winter Solstice. He'd never really believed in his mother's God, him being more pagan and all. "If you do mind, or even if you don't, get out of my head. I'm not worth this." He sighs, watching his four-year-old self "helping" with the cookie making, and instead being covered head to toe in flour. |
Engel watched her go and got up too. It was getting late and he needed to go home. He smiled at the dragon boy "I need to go" then walked out the door. He felt the cool ground under his feet and it felt nice. Then walked down the street just watching the snow in a daze.
((you can contact me if you want)) |
By now Lyden was giving Landon a very strange look. The guy had been muttering, too quietly surprisingly for Lyden to hear. It must have been the ghost, something that made the werewolf smirk. Any ghost fool enough to try and take over Landon would regret it in his view, the guy was almost impossible to beat when it came to mind games. That was why Lyden always gave up before he tried.
|
| All times are GMT. The time now is 11:44 PM. |