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The first one she could think of was Engel, the Dragon Boy. He was outspoken. He certainly wouldn't be afraid. Maybe he could help... She tapped on the door, softly at first then firmer, waiting for him to answer. She was both anxious and excited. Anxious he would say no, excited that he would say yes. She held her breath and waited.
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"You kidding? I haven't had so much fun for a long time. Though I believe this will take just a little more in certain departments."
He was able to twitch the arm a bit. He figured he had to work with this, he concentrated on the muscles, all of them, he had to try to make them twitch in the wrong way, at the same time, the kind of thing that caused hernia and sprain, he figured if the powers of the conscious mind were not going to aid him, he needed to mess with his unconscious. Pain was about to be a monument for Lynden. Shut off the adrenaline, hype up the histamine. |
"Ouch!" Landon gasps, his twitching arm hurting suddenly.
His consciousness, his inner focus, dives deep into a trance, his defense mechanism for physical pain. "This is my body, my life. It's not much, but it is mine. Pain is just an illusion. Pain is just weakness leaving the body. Pain doesn't exsist." He intones, adopting a mantra, if only for the white noise effect. A corner of his mind wonders what Lyden was thinking, he must look an odd sight. "When I get you out of here, you're going to wish you've moved on. I don't care if it's not possible to kill a ghost again, but by the gods I will!" |
((for the sake of my post because I'm going to play Xander's father in it for a bit. I'm putting his speech in bold type so one get confused))
Xander finally reached her packlands. She walked into the little cottage like house she lived in. She heard a low growl laced with anger. "Hi papa!" She said sheepishly hearing her father yell at her. "Where have you been? I know the elders say you need human interaction...but I don't like it." "Its not like I'm going to kill anyone! I keep BOTH my hungers in check." "The Bloodmoon Pack will be yours one day. For the sake of no more interspecies breed you need to be careful." He yelled at her. She looked at her father. Her green eyes from her mother, her dark hair but white fur from her father. Her teeth from both of them, her build from her mother. It was enough to see she got equal amounts of both her parents. Except her mother ran away a long time ago and got herself killed by her grandfather's hunters. She sighed and hung her head. "Yes daddy. I know I'll be careful from now." She smiled softly and just hung her head as she went upstairs. She dumped her bags on her room floor and looked at the baby blanket her mother had made for her. She sighed and flung herself on the bed. She'd need a run after this. Her father was getting rather annoying. She grabbed a notebook from her floor and scratched her ears with her pen. She had jotted down all the things her life had to offer...memories in case the The Call whispered to her. And also recorded and jotted notes of different things she heard about The Call. Tilting her head she looked out the window and wondered if there were a way to get rid of it or if it just had to run its course like Death always did. |
"Spooky."
Wiccans were a religion just like any other but they had never quite gotten a point of groups like Catholicism when it came to ousting spirits on their own power. Why? Because the modern Wicca argued like no one's business of the mere existence of ghosts in the perfection of good mother earth. Elemental spirits...those were another story, these little bastards were as incorporeal as Mr ghastly Elliott. Elliott had to scrap with a few of them if he got too far out of civilization, hence why he kept to the city. They had their strengths in their domains, Elliott was a city spirit and they were nature spirits...though this was now, he had time to see the kid under his fingers, and he was already laughing manically inside the mind of his unfortunate victim, "You made a hole my friend. A disruption in your calm." Rage is a weakness. It is one of the most impulsive emotions of the human form. He reached into the mind taking hard hold of the rage trying to amplify it with all his strength, let the red flood the boy. Rage. RAGE! |
Landon wasn't sociopathic, or anything, but bloodlust was familiar to him.
Maybe it was his viking ancestors' blood, singing through his veins, bellowing war-cries. He didn't have a Valhala to go to, no mead halls with Freja. Maybe if Landon really was a full-blooded Fin, his fighting spirit would win, but he wasn't. He was only half Finnish, the other half being Swiss. And everyone knew, the Swiss didn't fight. Landon had felt enraged before, on several occasions. He'd channelled it poorly, and payed for it. There were plenty of times, however that he didn't do anything, and eventually, his normal, icy-cool anger gripped him, and he got his revenge in a much better manner. "Yes, I'm a bit more than ticked off at you. I haven't my foil, nor anything save my thoughts. A gentleman's duel is out of the question, I don't duel the corpoeally challenged." |
He'd glanced down at the twitching arm in minor alarm when Landon had let out a gasp. This ghost must be doing more than Lyden had expected to be able to do what ever he had done.
"He's done this before....And I can't remember what Kana told me!" He snapped in annoyance, struggling to remember the dragon's words on how to get ghosts to leave you alone. She had been with Farrow at the time, Farrow inviting her one and only friend to visit their pack, something the dragon hadn't seemed overly keen on. But still, she'd gone to please the sweet, yet now deceased werewolf. |
Mitsuki breathes deeply, calming her frazzled nerves.
She was well aware of how...tricky... it was, to be a Silverfox, and live. "Damn it all!" She curses under her breath, in fustration. There were a few things that would calm her down, food, running, music. She remembers her Zen, and turns it up, letting the calming sounds of Nightwish enter her soul. |
"If you challenge me I must accept. After all even if I have become the trickster..."
He giggled using the typical mytho-title. It was who he had to be now in a typical sense, after all it was the job of a spirit of the urban world to spook, to scare, for some even to kill. He wasn't born a trickster though, and to tell all truths even his mischief was as he used to be, a love of the challenge, the risk, the bet, needless to say, "I was born the gambler." He was of too many blood to let any one take control of him, not half anything, a sixteenth something. He was an American, through and through, and if there was one thing Americans knew how to do it was gamble. |
A thought, an epiphany, if you will, strikes Landon.
"You know what, Whoever-you-were-and-are, this is pointless. I haven't the slightest idea of what you want, but go ahead. I quit. Too much effort for something so pointless as my life." He informs the ghost. The ghost wanted a struggle, not a surrender. "Do what you will, 'Tisin't like I'm enjoying any of this." He sighs, a wave of normally hidden depression washing over him. He yawns, this was more effort than he was accustomed to. |
"Won't play? Well that's a shame."
He was sad. He was just having fun. He was even hoping just a little that this was going to get extreme. A climax hadn't occurred...but it didn't mean he couldn't have fun. The other boy was still around, he pushed Landon's psyche backwards, let him sink into his own subconscious so that Elliott could take control. He gripped hold of the form, getting the whole of his body in his control, "Humph what an annoyance. Left as soon as I gave it to him. Let's get out of here, it's annoying me just to look at the place." He stepped out the door. Stoic was the name of the game. Play as Landon, he wondered how long he could get away with it. |
Lyden frowned at the now talking Landon. He sniffed the air slightly, the frown brought on by the slightly altered scent. Still, he couldn't place what it was so soon forgot about it.
"You sure you're feeling ok? You looked like you were having spasms or something." Lyden commented casually, hands in pockets as he walked through the door of the music shop after Landon. |
"Yeah. Just a stupid ghost, tried to take my mind."
He didn't grin, but he wanted to. Luckily years of this kind of acting had helped Elliott learn how to shut off some of his more flagrant habits. Instead he just scratched his head boredly and said, "Didn't know what he was getting into. Now you were about to drag me toward some 'fun' weren't you? What could possibly be enjoyable in this tiny town?" He took a moment to stare at the boy. Part wolf, dangerous. He might just get sniffed out, but that was if the other one paid special attention. He smelled something else on the boy...heh that was a little more interesting than the wolf part. He smelled like relations of the unstraight kind. Ahh poor Elliott knew that Landon was straight, but it had been a while since he had to deal with the hormones of being alive, it was strange to feel the urge of attraction so strong again. Lynden...maybe later he could use this body for something useful. He couldn't do it without giving himself away though. GAH SUCH A TRAGEDY! Manipulations, he had to be cool, or else he'd lose his facade. |
She rolled off her bed and landed easily on all fours. She blinked as she stood up straight up on her toes and stretched her body until her back popped a few times. She grabbed one of the bags from the music store. She pulled out the flute music and opened her window. She walked over to the window and placed her music in the stand. She turned to the song she had liked when looking through it at the store and began playing. Slow of course, she couldn't pick things up by automatically looking at them. But she was pretty good and so it didn't take too many practices to learn a song. She continued playing wondering if she should wait for tonight to go run. Damn she really needed a friend. If her pack wasn't so hated and feared she may have been able to make friends with other weres her age...but as is...she didn't fair to well in making friends.
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He chuckled softly, having to minimize his walking stride so he wouldn't shoot off ahead of Landon.
"Yea, I learnt about them from the elders...But I skipped lessons...I think Kana and Farrow told me something about them but" He grinned shame-facedly, "You know me, mind like a sive." He joked. When he was reminded about his original goal his eyes widened in remembering. "Oh yea! Well, not much about this town is fun, but did I ever say we would stay here? There's loads of stuff to do out in the forests and such, plus I'm sure we can get a couple of other wolfies, then we'd really be able to play." He began to ramble on, ideas of an old game he and his pack siblings often played when they were younger. He paused in his speaking to gaze back at Landon. "You're looking at me oddly, you alright?" He asked, frowning now. The scent was still around Landon, and it was beginning to annoy him. ((Just saying I'm off to my grandparents for a little while)) |
<<So much happens when one is asleep...>>
So this ghost actually did it. Possessed him, Landon sighs. He still knew what was going on, it was like watching a movie, or at least the same not-there feeling. Landon didn't speak much, he was an introvert, believing that most people weren't worth the effort to speak. So far, Landon didn't think his stand-in was doing a very good job. "Not sure which is worse. Being insulted by your poor acting, or Lyden's obliviousness." He sighs, his astral-self swirling around his mind. Landon wasn't as concerned as he had hoped he'd be. If anything, it was interesting, if not amusing, albeit annoying. "Step it up, ghost-boy. Lyden can't be that oblivious." He thinks, not caring if the spoken to could hear it or not. |
"There is only one other character here. I figure I must do something. Your life is a boring scrap of scrambled eggs, allow me to spice it up a little. No regrets. Also...I have a feeling even you have a little doubt as to if your friend here isn't that oblivious."
He spoke in the mind to his possessed. Different than Landon, Elliott was a deviant, he wasn't one to be bored, and would at times go to strange extremes to reach amusement. A gambler, a trickster, a bit of a perv, and yet he had to be smart or else it wouldn't be half as fun. He wanted to respond, that was his problem right now. He had the sort of forceful dissonance that was Landon's character, but he had to cut his vocabulary to somewhere close to depressed savage. Small phrases, said boredly. How boring. But a playwright sometimes has to deal with a character written a certain way. Back to Lynden he could bet Landon could feel the hesitation that rung the whole body when the wolf spoke of the forest. He had a lot of power in this little town, but when you reached into the forest he weakened a bit. It wasn't his element. He was a ghost not an elemental. He could retain himself, particularly around old burial grounds, but the naked forest...people didn't live and die the same there. He had to work with this though, he never refused a challenge, "I'm wondering if the other wolfs are as loud as you." That would explain his stare at least slightly. It was dissonant, bitter, and bored. It was strange that Landon had friends he could insult like this, but I guess you had to be a strong willed person just to be around this guy. |
"A loud as you?"..."
If Landon still had control of his eyebrows, they'd be askewed with confusion, doubt, and mirth. Landon's comments were more subtle, snarky. "Did you ever learn grammar, per chance? The plural of 'wolf' is 'wovles'. If you want to pass as me, you're failling spectacularly." Landon sighs. He spoke with a unique dialect, often meant to confuse and annoy people, for he didn't want to speak to them. "Come on, Lyden. Pick up on this before the guy gets the possession lessons he sorely needs." |
"The subtlety of the phrase won't be so typical to the ear. Besides you never showed a single person who you were how are they supposed to know who you are?"
Introversion can have an unfortunate effect. Warming up. If you warm up to a person perhaps you speak more, perhaps you go further, perhaps you do more. The introverted my not always be introverted, but introverted to the unusual. An unfortunate thing for Landon, but it made things half as difficult for Elliott. |
She continued playing her flute. She had gotten the hang of the song after like 20 times of practicing it. She lowered the flute from her mouth and wiped at it a bit and then wiped the spit from her mouth. She looked at the music and then out the window. She watched her father talking with two of the elders. She snarled, eyes tightening in a glare. She growled low and shook her head as she shut her window. She put the flute on her bed and slipped on her tennis shoes. She grabbed a small hoody and jogged down the stairs and out the back door. She looked over her shoulder to make sure her father wasn't coming around to see what she was doing and then broke into a jog towards the forest.
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"Someone listens to Dr. Phil to much." He shrugs.
Landon, still feeling insulted by the portrayl of him let's his thoughts wander. A music clip, from something his sister used to watch, catches his attention. "Don't got no ice-cream, no cookies, no strudel. Don't got no ice-cream, no cookies, no strudel. But I'm yodel-lady-yodel-lady-happy-hoo, just here with my poodle. That's right! I'm yodel-lady-yodel-lady-happy-hoo, just here with my poodle." The parodied polka music dances. He had always disliked his insane sister's taste in music, but this one was one of the worst. It did fit, though, which even though unlike Larry, the singer, he had a place singing the blues, if he could sing, that is. "That's right! You do realize that I still live with my family, don't you? Lyden may not guess something's up, but Jessica will. If not my mum as well." Landon didn't have any money to have his own place yet, and as he didn't care what anyone thought of him, this was perfectly fine. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he'd say that Jessica put that song in his head to remind him. Maybe she did, she had her quirks like that. |
"I live in a couple places. You can stay with me for a day or two. I figure I got about three days before I have to worry about everything chasing you, and it will be you, then I can vacate. But hey if you have good luck maybe I'll accidentally run into them. You never know."
Elliott had to watch where he kept this body though. Letting the Penguin into the Batcave could be disastrous. He could stick around a couple typical haunts, chill with a few deviants of society. Grab himself a meal or four in the right places. Mortals never took the chance to enjoy their existence, always speeding quickly toward their death, he's give this form the good time it deserved. Geh for at least one day this wolf would be a bit difficult to throw off, "May as well enjoy each others company for a bit. I know a bit about you but I prefer it from your mouth. My name is Elliott Sondheim. Unfortunate we met on a challenge but it is still good to meet you." Elliott was this way, he couldn't help it, he enjoyed people. They amused him, he might as well see how this turned out. Hell Landon might even earn his freedom before any damage is done. |
"I damn you to Shangri La, and all it's awful brillance." Landon mutters.
Hell, if he believed in it, didn't seem so bad, not nearly as bad as Heaven sounded. I wonder if I should mention how much food hates me.... Nah, if "I" get sick enough, he'll leave. Some things, like life, simply worked for people. Others, like Landon, things always fell apart. Part of his loner-image was created because he never went anywhere with people. Part of that was because he didn't even share things like food with them. Life may hate Landon, but the feeling was mutual. |
"You can make your own heaven or stew in your own hell. The key is perception."
No Stockholm this time around. No surprise, the kid lacked two things that could lead one to that: A weak will or a strong empathy. He kept his plans limited. If he didn't he might rush out a bit too fast and watch himself get caught like no ones business. So here he was, stuck with a person who interested him but he couldn't move on, with a voice in his head that said he hated him...just like the last time he was alive. |
Empathy got people killed.
Landon knew that, one of his closest friends had been an empath... She died, falling for a young murder. If he felt anything for someone, he reminded himself of this fact, and suddenly, he didn't care anymore. "Starla, you always were to forgiving for your own good." He sighs, thinking of the only girl he ever found that he could tolerate, and vise versa. She didn't even mind polka music, though it wasn't her first-choice in music. You love someone, they die, you turn to alcohol, you move-on, and they're still dead. Even if Starla hadn't moved on to Heaven, for she was Catholic, she'd still be dead, and Landon wasn't. He sinks into depression and melancholy, thinking of the dead girl. |
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