The moon hung high in the sky, reminding Hero of one of those children's astronomy sets. The kind with fishing wire and plastic models of different colored spheres representing all that planets. She stared at it until the image was burned into her eyes, the whiteness reminding her of a crisp piece of paper, glowing with the reflection of the sun. The stars paled in comparison to this rock in the sky, though they were some billions times bigger, brighter and more flame-y than it. Somehow, this baffled the young woman, and so -being thoroughly disoriented- she finally looked down from the sky. The image of the moon was printed into her vision, even while the iron rod fence stood before her. Beyond it was a place of lush green grass and some sparsely planted willow trees. A mausoleum stood behind one, a tall angel statue bearing down beside it, the young lady's sword raised high while her wings spread up with it, as if to pierce the moon and give the graves darkness to rest by.

Stepping back, and then taking a few running leaps, Hero cleared the fence. She landed on both feet, kneeling down so as not to fall onto her ass. The teenager stood again, straightening her fashionable, pleated skirt. Her blazer was then corrected, the undershirt glowing like the moon itself amongst the other two dark articles. The student's soft, blond hair wisped in the dark, floating around her face as if caught in an eternal draft. Wide, chocolate brown eyes stared past the darkness, flickering this way and that. Hero, who could see the auras of strong emotions, was getting strange appearances here. Flits of color were passing by, blinking on an off per heartbeat. The girl hesitantly stepped forward, when a flash of color before her eyes blinded her.

Unintentionally crying out, Hero raised her arms over her eyes defensively, though the unruly orange color still intruded her head, pounding in there as if attempting to possess the girl's mind. Hero fell back, landing in the damp grass and banging her head against the fence. Then, as soon as it'd come, the aura had fled, leaving her with a throbbing headache, and a bad knot in the back of her head. Groaning, Hero stood, brushing her ass off before taking another step in. The colors were beginning to calm down now, the further she came in, as if all flying to one place. Turning, Hero tried to follow one, which she assumed was the soul of the dead, but it had gone before she could tell it's direction.

After a few more tries, Hero threw her hands up in hopelessness. "I am a surely quixotic fool to have thought such an endeavor would pay me grandly," the girl sourly growled. She looked away from her hand, which had began its own painfully slow aura. Hero turned down the path in which she thought was the leaving direction, too irritated at herself to notice the walkway was in fact, leading her more inward. Only after passing the guardian angel statue, did Hero notice her position. Turning back to find the gate, Hero could not. She turned again, unsure of her location. Only then did Hero catch a bright flash deeper into the graveyard, lasting long enough for Hero to catch a direction. "Ah!" the girl cried, mildly delighted, before running off after it. She had to slide down the better part of a hill, the grass too wet to truly walk on, and nearly ran into a willow before finding herself near an old shack.

This was the gravedigger's shack, Hero knew. She'd never met him, but had heard rumors. The girl stared a moment, straying by the edges of the willow's branches. The aura had gone there, she knew... But venturing any further might get her in trouble, since Hero really was on closed property. After a few minutes of debating, Hero turned to return up the hill, when that same nasty aura invaded her entire vision. The young woman, as before, shouted unintentionally and swiped her hand through thin air, as if that'd help get the angry color from behind her eyes. "What're you doing! That hurts," Hero whined, backing up under the cover of the branches. Even then, it stayed in her head, pounding it as if trying to get something across. "I don't understand! Leave me be," she told it, now whispering, still backing up.

It was late, that much was for certain. A time perhaps most sane people were asleep. It was a time however, that the Gravedigger was most active. After all, one could not afford to oh so offend the living's eyes with the sight of digging a grave! Oh no, the horror! Hmph, people certainly were afraid of the inevitable, weren't they? It was sad really. He should have been about his rounds earlier really, but it had not rained for several days and he knew that just meant more work for him. Hard work, however, he was used to in this place. No stranger to him.

He adjusted his hat, before nodding to himself. Shovel in hand the man stepped out, right as he heard a woman cry out. He was there, of course, in a flash. "What do you think you are doing out here, in this quietest of lands?" he demanded of her, his gruff tone sharp. It... it seemed to have a sort of gravel tone to it, as though rarely used. In fact, it made it impossible to even determine the man's age. This was not helped by the fact the man wore clothing far too large, boots just as much so, and his eyes were obscured by his hat. In fact, as the legends depicted, he seemed to not exist at all. No determinable age, you couldn't see his eyes, nor even skin. The pale moonlight simply reflected glints, but this only added to the eeriness of it all.

Those eyes closed a moment. "Never mind. In the shack, NOW," he said, a gloved hand clenching across the top of his shovel. "I shall deal with you in a moment. For now, I have more pressing matters." One might notice he seemed to glare in anotehr direction altogether, but the Gravedigger left no room in his actions nor his words for questions.

It was also as the stories said. He could scare the crap out of you with but a look, and truly seemed to be the most terrifying resident of the cemetery...

Hero had heard no one approach, then again, the grinding in her head left most of her senses dulled. The brilliant color flashed, orange, blue, then red-orange again. Anger, fear, and agitation. Whatever was happening, Hero could see again, the darkness a sharp contrast to the prior light. She wavered on her feet, raising a dainty hand to her forehead, finding a damp perspiration there even against the chilly night. Then, dully, Hero heard a voice telling her to go to the shack. The girl looked up, as if brain dead, trying to regather herself from the attack of emotion. A man was there, who did not seem man at all. "I..." Hero began, before stepping back.

Oh, no, she did not feel good at all. He was surrounded by color himself, not as bright as most people, but certainly there. This man was confused, and determined, set yet on the brink between something. Hero groaned, hand still to her head as if that'd help anything. "I..." the girl began again, eyes darting to where the man's body was angled, finding the glowing orange aura there, "don't think I... am able to walk..." And, with that, Hero allowed herself to sink to her knees, mind beginning to numb. Things were beginning to darken, the redness at the edge of her eyes now turning to a midnight black, sweeping in as if it realized her stronghold cracked.

It only took a few seconds, but then Hero had fainted, fully collapsing to the ground. She'd never experienced an attack of aura so strong, never had prepared to shield herself against such impaling emotion. Now, she lay flat against the ground, as if dead herself. In her unconsciousness, Hero's mind played as if she had gone home, taken a warm bath and snuggled into bed to read her newest novel. In her dream, she had not been swept up by a specter's lingering emotion, which had tried to communicate something, and passed out afterward. Hero was safe, in her father's house, and not let vulnerable to the strange, cold man with an aura like the Borealis.

The Gravedigger was uncertain as to how much time had passed, but one could hear his heavy boots pacing across the doorway of his home. Even here, in his own place, he retained the same attire, stripping nothing of his persona. Speaking of places... this one seemed to contain but the bare essentials. There was a bookshelf, with various books about dead and whatnot, history. Beside that was a makeshift wooden table, and a lamp. There was the bed, where he had lied the unwanted visitor out. The bed itself was old form age, a few springs showed here or there, and was in much the same state as the chair. Everything here seemed weather-worn, falling apart.

Certainly did nothing to help the atmosphere, that was for certain.

Nothing hung upon the walls but a hook or a peg here or there, and there was no sign of a television, a radio, nor even a rug. There was a small kitchen and a closet, and of course restroom, but one could almost rest assured they were the same state as this room was.

He continued to pace, stealing a glance over towards the girl every now and again. Why was she in such a place... did she not know what sort of being lurked in a graveyard? That one... well it was a matter taken care of at least. He sighed deeply, shaking his head. Always some foolish child. Well, all he had to do was scare them straight, and they wouldn't return. Helped in other ways too, the stories resulting tending to keep away the curious. How long would she remain passed out anyways? Hmph, kids these days...

Slowly, Hero could hear pounding on the floor beside her. No, not pounding... Pacing. Yes. With heavy, thick boots. It was probably male, the way he jaunted about. Young, too. And then, just as slowly, the events rolled into Hero's head. Gasping, the girl jumped up fast enough to make her head spin. Ignoring the dots behind her eyes, Hero stood from the bed, casting a quick look about before edging towards the door. His aura was a clear trio of colors now; blue-violet, pale orange, and gold; worry, irritation, and curiosity.

As soon as her vision cleared, Hero seemed to calm down, staying still and taking a closer look at her surroundings. She was directly in front of the door, and could easily turn and flee. But, instead, tilted her head to the gravedigger. "Hi!" Hero said, smiling in her adorable fashion. When the girl opened her eyes again, she found he bore no aura, the after-affects of being attacked so brutally finally stopping. She knew he'd demand answers, and that replying would be lengthy. Her ankle painfully throbbed, probably from jumping the fence and landing on it wrong, but instead of requesting a seat as a sensible person would do, Hero simply shifted her weight on the other one. Perhaps instead of asking questions he'd simply push her out of the door.

In any case, Hero stood there awkwardly, hands clasped behind her back and posture straight, as was taught. The girl's eyes burned with kindness and her own natural curiosity, and her tongue obviously being bitten to keep from talking. Hero had her manners down to perfection, and was not about to lose them just because she fainted. The girl's hair was a mess of dirt and sleep, its normally sleek composure lost to waves and a leaf or two. Her skirt was twisted, and her long-sleeved white shirt smeared with mud. It was strange, the medic who was a general image of perfection now showing signs of disorganization. But, Hero did not wish to be rude and straighten herself before company.

He had it down to a rhythm now this pacing, as he waited for her to awaken so he could get some answers from her and ensure such a fiasco could not occur again. That pacing only stopped as she sat up, and it became a slow, methodical walk, heavy in the steps. At her greeting he simply arched a hidden brow, his arms folded.

"...This is no place for the living to be walking about, ESPESVIALLY at this hour," he said sharply, his tone containing no pity nor mercy. But it wasn't loud, perhaps so she could hear them without her head swimming? Whatever was the case, his imposing presence certainly did not let up in the slightest.

"The way I see it you have two options," he continued, his tone just as gruff. "Either you use that door behind you and make a run for it, not to return to these grounds, or you explain yourself and I will escort you out. Your choice." It was strange, however, that the man did not once relax, always alert or on guard.

"Take your pick, either way matters not to me." It was strange, seeing one with her sort of eyes about here. Normally he only saw hooligans or heathens. So then... curiosity perhaps? Hmph, it didn't matter so long as the situation was remedied. And quickly. She was, after all, trespassing upon these grounds.

At the sharpness of his voice, Hero twitched as if she'd been slapped. The girl's eyes swam now with a sort of sadness, as if disappointing him was the end of the world. Hero sunk down, her eyes now scanning the floor with shame. He listed off her options, though Hero did not wish to be escorted off, or leave in the first place. Perhaps, if she ran now, then she could manage to hide and stick around longer? But, he was so intriguing! Hero could feel a natural pull to him, the sort she felt when she knew there was someone she could trust nearby. Well, he was waiting!

Hero took a breath, as if to scream, before she held it, then slowly exhaled. "Well, I saw..." Hero stopped, her face contorting. This was a tricky subject. She didn't expect him not to believe her, but rather she despised speaking of such an outlandish ability. 'Lie,' her mind hissed, though it was a set rule against her morals not to. It was better than talking about it, though... "My friend at college said that she saw a ghost here. I guess I was staring at the moon too long, so it was probably just an afterimage, but I thought I saw something." Lie, lie, lie! "So I jumped the fence... You scared me half to death, jumping out of nowhere like that that...!" LIE! "I fainted." Hero was staring at the ground, her speech growing softer the more she continued into her fake story.

Obviously a terrible liar, she looked up through her bangs at the gravedigger, smiling questionably. Honestly, she didn't expect him to believe a word, but at least she didn't have to explain about her strange beyond-normal sight. Hero shifted her weight onto her bad ankle, winced, and then moved back. That was going to hurt like a bitch in the morning. "I am sorry for causing you so much trouble, sir!" Hero added, this time her voice full and rich with the apology, as if her entire heart went out into those simple words. She bowed her head so far he couldn't see her face, as if expecting some sort of harsh word or blow. The girl stood back up straight, her face reading as plainly as a map of her emotions.

He kept his arms folded, his look continued to be stern as he waited. He was used to people yelping at the sound of his voice, especially when he used THAT tone. Well, if anything, it would get the point across. People certainly could not be wandering about her willy-nilly now could they? Especially not... well nevermind that. He half expected her to scream and run, but waited calmly just the same as though it made no difference to him.

Both brows arched upon her story before shaking his head. "One, I was NOT born yesterday," he replied, his tone unrelenting. "And two, you Mam are a terrible liar. But it doesn't matter, I can guess what happened. This place is DANGEROUS and not meant for kids to be wandering about! People can get themselves killed! And then you know whose job it is to clean up the mess? Mine." He said this with a sort of ominous tone, and one wondered if it perhaps was a rehearsed routine, or his actual feelings upon the matter at hand.

He sighed deeply then at her apology, shaking his head. They... never apologized. Ever. This was something new to him. He had noticed, as well, that she winced upon her ankle. "The morning. I'll escort you off the premises in the morning, for now you have an ankle to heal," he commented, as though a slight lost. He had, actually, never had a person overnight here unless they were dead of course. "Anyways, rest it off, stay awake, it does not matter to me. Just be ready for the morning, I will retrieve you then." He picked up his shovel that was leaning against the wall, not affording a glance back. "I have some work to do." He had one hand upon the door, and it was clear he had every intention of doing just that...

Hero sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I sorry for lying. It's not a normally occurring issue, I assure you. It's just... best if I don't speak of it," Hero explained lightly. She blinked at his 'dangerous' speech before giggling. The giggle was about to grow into full laughter, but Hero clamped both hands over her mouth to stop herself. "I am sorry! Danger is nothing to laugh about... But honestly, half the dead wandering about tonight at passive!" She blinked then, realizing her mistake, and seemed to cower, eyes fully expecting some sort of unleashed anger.

When he first mentioned her ankle, Hero was about to ask how, but then choked the question down. The man moved to leave, and the girl lingered in the house for a few moments. It was old, and creaked in the wind, not giving her a pleasant feel. Honestly, Hero would rather be with the gravedigger. With a light limp, the girl followed him out, half-jogging to catch up. "You don't seem very old," Hero commented, her sharp brown eyes picking up his walk. It was too springy, too straight to be that of an old man's, especially up the steep slope. She had trouble climbing it with the wetness, but managed after nearly falling twice. "How old are you? Thirty? No, you have to be younger. I remember the old gravedigger... You'd have to be like... twenty-two at the most!" Hero figured, doing the math mentally.

Pausing, the girl's eyes wandered to a particular grave at the corner. "It's crying," she whispered, eyes seeming to pick up a flow of colors not really there. Not even realizing she'd spoken aloud, Hero turned to the gravedigger, large brown eyes full of worry. Hero lapsed into silence beside him, eyes occasionally darting back, and concentrating on using as light a pressure as possible on her sprained ankle. What did one do when a soul cried? Did they go and comfort it? Would that make it angry? She could not even hear them, let alone see them entirely. Hero had no way of offering words to the dead she could only tell was there by a brief aura.

"Well THAT much is easy to see. You certainly would not be able to get away with it if it was," he replied. She was, of course, that bad at lying. Another rarity, since the hooligans around here were experts at it. As she started to laugh, both of his brows again rose. At her words he blinked, as though in surprise. But he pretended not to hear it that time.

He started out, regarding it all as unimportant and gone in a morning's time. That was when he found the girl jogging up to catch up. "That is none of your concern," he replied. "Age does not matter in a place like this." At the mention of the old gravedigger the current one's mouth creased into a deeper frown, but he said nothing more upon the matter but instead chose another.

"You should be RESTING," he growled. "Not out here..." When she mentioned that the grave was crying he gave a nod. "Aye, it has for some time now. But... er... ANYWAYS! It matters not currently!" he amended himself, shaking his head as he adjusted his hat lower. He held a grimace for a slight moment, as he quickened his steps to move past the tombstone. "That one is beyond anyone's help," he added, looking upwards a moment. "Or at least that is what the stories say."

Truth be told... the gravedigger was also a very terrible liar, and it was showing right now. It also showed he knew, or perhaps even saw, far more than he let on.

Hero blinked at his words, a sly smile spreading on her lips. "Then why don't you go help it? If it's only stories. I heard stories that you'd impale me with a shovel for trespassing. But, instead, you offer me board, and worry for my ankle. You took me in when I fainted, and lay me to rest. Stories are often stories based upon someone's opinion. And, often, opinions are subject to matter." Hero gave him one of her stunningly adorable smiles, the sort that took your breath away if you were unprepared, as if Hero had her own sun inside. After another moment, she began speaking once more, "I have a proposition! I bet that if you can get that soul to stop crying, then I can come back tomorrow. But if you can't, then I'll leave tonight, before the sun rises, and you'll never see me again. Deal?" Hero held out her hand pleasantly, for him to shake.

The college student realized that this gravedigger had little to no experience with actual people. She saw his grimace at the mention of the past gravedigger, and expected they were related. This wasn't exactly a job people aspired to be when they were older. Hero was getting used to his growling tone by now, finding that it held its own tones, and a certain, welcomed cadence. He liked her! "Hold still please," Hero requested, pausing to stare at him closely. It took the better half of a minute, but finally, she could see a streak of pink to his aura. There. That confirmed it. Inwardly beaming at the confirmation that this not-so-old gravedigger enjoyed company -though Hero knew he'd never admit it- she began plans to return tomorrow.

"You know, you're as bad a liar as I am. I haven't heard of anyone dying recently, so I doubt you have any holes to dig. So why don't we go and make good on that deal?" Hero offered, grabbing onto the gravedigger's arm the same time she realized something. "Oh! Sir, my name's Hero Caslon. If you don't mind my inquiring, what is the name of my joyous company, yourself?"

The gravedigger couldn't help but be proud of THAT story. Oh he had been in fine form THAT day had he not?"Who says those stories aren't true?" he grumbled. "They say demons smile before they take your soul after all," he added. Hmph, where did she keep all of that... cheerfulness, especially in this sort of place? This wasn't the place to show that! People did not smile in a place like this, it seemed so out of place. Did she not realize this? Although, he supposed, even if she did she would not care.

He crossed his arms again, leaning upon the old shovel. "I... fail to see what is in this for me," he plied, shaking his head. "I do not... I don't make deals with people! Escort them out, that's it!" His tone was a sort of growl again, irritated. He blinked a moment as he was asked to hold still, a brow under his hat raised. "Hmph... you're a rather strange one..." he grumbled.

At being called out upon, he blinked. "There are always things to do upon these grounds!" he snapped. But, once more, she had called it. So why did he old onto the shovel? Well, it didn't seem to matter much now anyways. He sent a glare over as she grabbed his arm, but didn't try to remove it either. Again he nearly jumped, as though he hadn't seen human contact in quite some time. He paused a moment, as though considering his options, before exhaling deeply. "It's Gregory, Gregory Stevens," he replied as he found himself starting back towards the crying tombstone.

"Hmph, if it will keep you quiet, Ms. Caslon, then fine. I'll prove to you that this one, like all of the others here, cannot be helped." He spoke this with a grim certainty, the voice of experience it would seem. But experience of doing what?

"I say they're not true. Actions do speak louder than words," Hero replied with prompt timing, her eyes raising at his mention of demons. "Sounds more like Father than a demon," she grumbled, for once the smile disappearing from her face. For a moment, her expression fit the scenery, though her eyes held such a painful hallowness that one would wish for her carefree smile once more. After a moment, though, Hero looked up once more, the pain of the memories still there, though she managed a smile this time.

At Greg's growl, Hero looked hurt, unsure if he really did find her so annoying. And then he snapped again, making the college girl flinch backwards. Though, glares she could deal with, and offered him a shy smile, which only widened when he revealed his name. Finally, they began making their way towards the tombstone in the corner. Hero limped beside him, glancing over to Greg with a curious look. "Hero, please. This hardly qualifies for a formal occassion. And I think you just weren't trying hard enough, or maybe you weren't asking the right sort of questions," Hero offered.

As the two reached the grave, she stayed a bit back. The color was stronger the closer they got, and while she could make out blurry shapes, the aura was so overwhelming it just about obscured her vision once more. Hero winced, the flood of blues and violets tinting everything, making the moon soften into a nightlight. "Greg..." Hero murmured, stepping back, "I'm sorry." Her head was beginning to hurt again, the result of such strong souls being around. The girl took a few more steps away, until the aura didn't burn her vision so badly, before kneeling down to watch him.

Greg actually didn't have a comeback to that. At her change in expression however he blinked, quite surprised indeed. He was quite certain now perhaps there was some such expressions were ill-fitting upon. She seemed to be one of those.

She also had a way of making him feel a slight guilty, with those expressions. "Hero then," he grumbled, his sort of an apology. Not that he had anything to apologize for mind you, he was just doing his job. "Hmph, it's alright," he said, taking a deep breath in. "I would have asked that you stood back for this anyways. But I do insist you close your eyes," he added. He knew personally some of the dead had rather... gruesome appearances they chose in the afterlife.

It was then he closed his own eyes, and mumbled a few words that could not be heard. Holding up his hands, it was as though spiderwebs of a strangely colored light, closest to a reddish-purple hue, shot forth. These glimmered into gold, as the very thin strands weaved about the cemetery, piercing through certain targets of interest. When he opened his eyes, he still held the strands in his hands. However, the dead his lines pierced through, the ghosts, were now partially visible. Enough to where one could see what they were, and make out features. Although now he himself looked much the same at first glance. But he was still more solid than see-through, whereas, they were not.

It was a technique, handed down to him by his Grandfather. Wherein, he lent the spirits of this graveyard, in essence, shared his own materials. A technique used to keep the peace in a place of unrest. It was during this state that he could talk with and understand the dead, since he resembled them so. He idly wondered... had she kept her eyes closed? Perhaps, if she hadn't, she might get scared away. It didn't matter... did it? Now back to the task at hand...

Hero looked satisfied with him agreeing to their first-name basis. She played with the grass by her feet, finally figuring to just sit. It would rest her ankle, at the very least. WHen asked to close her eyes, the girl pouted, as though it would spoil the fun. "Okay," she finally agreed, shutting them and then placing her hands over her eyes, just to make sure. She couldn't exactly feel what he was doing, and not being able to see the auras made her completely blind. The girl listened intently, though, trying to make something out. Not much could be heard.

After what seemed to be an eternity, she could physically hear crying. Hero tilted her head, though her eyes were still closed. "What happened?" the girl asked, unable to tell if it was Greg... But it certainly didn't sound like him. Could she, then, hear the spirit? "What's going on?" Hero asked again, this time her voice a bit more worried. The burning desire to know what was happening made her eyelids flutter open, though thankfully her hands kept sight at bay. Hero was not about to break her word.

The aura had gone a bit anyways, as if given up its strength for a voice. She longed so badly to open her eyes, see what the dead appeared as. But, Greg wouldn't tell her to close them if not for a good reason. One could say Hero trusted him already. So then, this sobbing ghost... Would Greg really try to get it to stop? Or would he only attempt for the sake of getting Hero away? She trusted him to try, though had no pledge of him to do so. In all, the odds were against her, either from his cheating, or the soul's stubborness. It made Hero herself slightly depressed, knowing that she might not be able to come back.

Greg looked back then, knowing it was just cruel to keep someone in the darkness. And none of the more... terrifying spirits as it were were visible. None of the ones that would cause her nightmares. Well, unless he himself counted. He sighed a slight, as though inwardly debating what he was about to do next. "...You can open them," he told her.

What she would have seen at first, or perhaps noted, were the threads, those thin now golden threads that Greg held from his fingertips. Perhaps she would have noted Greg didn't seem completely solid, only mostly, as though looking at a very fogged up mirror. This spirit, however, Greg was sure was harmless. He walked over closer.

This was one, he would admit, he had never spoken with. Because he had deemed it harmless, he had not sought out its story, merely allowed it to lurk here without contact. Was that in itself wrong? "Forgive my intrusion... but what brings you to tears?" he asked the spirit, continuing his walk forward. His tone wasn't harsh, but it sure wasn't soft either. It was merely asking an answer, and it held a strange tone that made it sound ghost-like as well. Had he even actually seen this spirit's form before? He didn't believe so...

((Im guessing youd like to introduce the ghosteh :P))

((Oh, fien :P ))

Hero pulled her hands from her face, blinking open her eyes to first see his hand. She stared more closely at it, finding that he, himself, didn't seem completely there. At first, Hero seemed shocked, but then just smiled and stood up to follow him. So, the web... It have up his state of matter to them, allowing them to become public to the naked eye. A useful ability, that it was! Hero stayed beside Greg, noting a sort of shaky form on top of the grave. The closer they came, not only the louder its voice grew, but the more visible the shape grew.

The girl could see that it was a girl. Not an old one at that, but perhaps around their age? In an old, pre-Victorian dress. Almost as if she were coming from the end of the Mideval ages. Her hair was long, done down in a plait, that disappeared somewhere with her hem. The spirit, so despaired and in her grief, did not even notice Greg's voice. The two were now within touching distance of the girl, who rubbed her eyes to get the tears gone. As far as Hero could see, there was nothing wrong with her. "Ma'am?" she asked softly.

When the ghost looked up, Hero could definitely then see what had killed her. Half the woman's face was gone, rotten off her, large cirlces of darkness forming on her "good" side. The Black Plague. Hero stared, but neither screamed nor turned away, fearing it would be rude. The sight was gory, and burned into Hero's mind, like the afterimage of the moon. It made her stomach sick, seeing even a dead being so violated. Still, she did not stop crying, tears spilling from the eye that had not fallen from its socket. "My... my name's Hero," she began, slowly finding her voice over the lump in her throat, "and this is Greg."

It surprised him, that she was not freaked out by the ability he just used. Useful? Certainly, especially for one in his position. It had also served its purpose more than once for keeping gawkers away. It didn't surprise Greg to see the ghost was from so long ago, many around here were. Such harsh grief was the very reason, however, that Greg did not usually use his abilities in this particular way.

And she wasn't the first he had seen in such a state either, so her half rotten face certainly did not phase him. Then again, not many things did. Greg looked a moment instead to Hero, unaware he would be inflicting such a sight upon her. He gave her the briefest of nods, perhaps for reassurance? One could never be certain.

"You've been here for some time... why? The others by now have probably moved on to the other side," Greg commented, his tone a slight somber. "...Well, anyways.. I am certain you have your reasons. We are here to listen to them, if you will allow us." He gave the briefest of smiles, as he very gently set a hand onto her shoulder. Being in mostly the same state as the ghosts had other uses for him as well. And he knew that a spirit could not transmit diseases.

This was, however, the first time he had committed such an act in some time, usually only using the ability for battle purposes if need be. Perhaps he really had decided to give this his all?

Hero managed a brief, fleeting smile, horror placed in her eyes. She looked back to the lady, who had one hand clasped over the marred side of her face. The girl frowned, seeing that even the ghost could see her reaction. However, Greg started speaking before Hero could apologize, and allowed it to fall. The lady had stopped her tears, but they had slowed. Hero sat down, as if to show her patience, and looked up with ready, curious eyes. "Well," began the ghost in her watery, not-really-there voice, "I... am in wait for my fiance!" And again, burst into quiet sobbing. "It has been centuries, but he hath not arrived. He cannot be living, and he cannot be here! But I vowed it, and so I cannot depart with him not by my side. I cannot leave my grave, for I told him it be where I stay." The woman went back to grieving, shaking her head pitifully. Yet, she was speaking, and if Hero's ears deceived her -which they rarely did- the girl could hint relief. Maybe the spirit liked telling her story. "He t'would not even love me 'nymore, with my terrible face."

Biting back a joke, Hero looked to Greg. This was his gig, after all. Idly, Hero had to wonder how it was he could touch them. Was it the state he was in at the moment? If so, did that mean he would pass through her? Hero frowned at that thought, not enjoying the fact she couldn't have physical contact with someone so nice to her. Hero flinched slightly as the lady on the tomb began crying harder, a burst of aura radiating from her, strong enough to flare in Hero's eyes. It was mauve now, no doubt the poor dead lady was thinking of her lost love. Hero tucked her head between her knees, focusing on breathing so the pain would decrease, and hopefully keep her from fainting again.

Thankfully, the woman's aura decreased, leaving Hero panting slightly. The girl looked to Greg, eyes curious to see what'd he'd do. She hoped and prayed he'd give it his all! She really wanted to return, after all. Perhaps bring him -and this dead soul- a gift? It would be a nice thank you, and a get well (though how one got well when dead was beyond her) token.

Greg listened to the story with patience, giving a light nod here or there. A lost love... it certainly made sense. Those who remained here as ghosts had something, or someone, left behind. That was simply the way it always was. He met Hero's look a moment, and could see that she seemed hopeful. That was until the tears started falling faster, harder, and Hero flinched. Ah... must have something to do with her own abilities... she could read emotions perhaps?

Still, as Hero looked up to him panting, with curious eyes... how could he do anything else but try his best? He looked to the young ghost once more. "Mam... there are many things that stand between ghosts and their destinations... but that does not mean that a meeting is far from possible." He gave a slight nod, as though pondering. Finally, he gave a sharp whistle. From behind the trees raced a canine. Well... mostly canine, it really was more of a half missing dog. it wore a solid collar, bearing the name Chip. He stroked the ghostly canine a moment, turning his attention back to the girl. "All Chip here needs is a name, and he shall find them. Best tracker I know. But first... you must promise me one thing." He paused a moment, looking towards Hero before back to the woman.

"Before I send Chip out... you must promise me you'll stop crying. That's another thing, when you commented upon your looks... you do realize love, if its real, looks past that right? Love doesn't give a damn. And looking at you, having waited here for so long, I cannot but help think that love is quite real. So... do not fear. Have no fear. But most of all... greet him with a smiling face, alright?" What he did not say was that there was a cost to sending Chip out like this. Normally, the canine whom was buried here by some small children many years ago... was bound here. It took Greg's ability to allow the canine to roam. But at the same time, it also meant that Greg could not recall all of the threads of his magic until Chip returned. It meant he certainly would be unable to get anything done. It also meant, tehre was a good chance he would meet with the true Guardian of this place and get a major scolding.

But, looking towards the hopeful Hero, then Chip wagging his tail, and finally the woman.... he thought if he could reunite these two perhaps it just might be alright. And if her fiance had moved on, or was unwilling to come back... what then? He mentally frowned, seeing that happen far too often. Then he would just swear off doing this again, like he had last time. Why had he decided to try and help like this again, even after it hurt so much last time? Was it... was it because he perhaps wanted Hero to return?

"Albert Demness," the woman told Chip. She stared at Greg for a few seconds, and managed to stop the tears, drying her eyes with a handkerchief. Hero looked pleased, jumping to her feet, wincing lightly at her ankle and going closer to the grave. The woman no longer seemed to mind her destroyed face, and gave the dead woman such a brilliant grin, that even she couldn't help but smile weakly back.

"Doesn't that feel better?" Hero asked, her bright nature making the old-fashioned woman stunned for a moment. "When you cry a lot, it just makes you tired. Being sad doesn't help much, it only makes you feel useless. If you smile, though, you get more done. Even if you don't, a smile is contageous! At least you'd make someone else smile, right?" The dead lady stared for a moment, then sighed and shook her head.

"You," the dead woman said in her watery tone, "are quite a strange lady. But I like you." Hero laughed at that, looking to Greg to see what he thought. She was happy that the unnamed woman liked her presence, perhaps it'd bring Greg around a bit more too. He did try, which only made her believe he wanted her to come back. That was it! She was so bringing him a gift next time.

"You heard her Chip," Greg told the canine, who gave a ghostly woof before dashing off. One could see the very thin golden trail left behind as well. He gave a nod, surprised it had actually worked. But... who knew what tomorrow would bring, when Chip returned. Probably more despair, but for now... a lull.

He blinked however, when Hero began to talk cheerfully to the woman. At least the girl had gotten over the sights fairly quickly. "She is a strange one isn't she?" Greg had to agree, and one could not help but note the Gravedigger looked amused. "Right then, just... keep her words in mind then and we'll return here tomorrow. Chip works fast, after all. Work on that smile until then, greet him the best way you can. Until tomorrow then," he said, tilting the edge of his hat. "It is time Miss Hero and I return to rest ourselves." And with this, he nodded again and started upon his way back.

He gave it a moment longer, in case the unnamed woman had parting words, allowing her to do so before he recalled the threads not attached to Chip. This brought him to a more solid state once again, although one could notice his hands still remained in the insubstantial state they had before. "Now then... let us get you off that ankle and then out of here. It really is no place for you you know..." he added, although his tone wasn't as forceful as last time.

But she didn't wish for her to be here when He visited either. Greg knew that He would have no qualms upon actually carrying out that which Greg always threatened folks with.

The woman nodded, agreeing to do as Greg said, and disappearing into nothingness. Hero stared, wiping a hand through the air and shivering as it hit a cold spot. "Sorry," she whispered before turning to go with Greg. The limp was noticably worse, though Hero shrugged it off. She looked to him, noticing his tone and manners to her, glad to see he was a lot more solid. Except those hands... "Why isn't this a good place for me? It's a lot better than anywhere else I've got to go," Hero stated matter-of-factly. By her tone and expression, one could see she meant what she said.

Hero made it back down the hill fine, entering the house after Greg and standing near the door, mindful of her ankle. "You know what I think? I think you like me," the stated, smiling cheerfully. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, large brown eyes reflecting the drab room in their iris. They looked like a dark mirror, some sort of old-time reflection, which portayed the image distorted, yet beautifully constrasting in light and darks. It made Hero's eyes, so full of emotion, almost mesmerizing. "You could have just half-heartedly asked that soul what was bothering her. But, rather, you're expending effort still to make her smile. I think you like me, and want me to come back. I think you're a kind-hearted soul who hates to see others suffer, so tries to push them away." Maybe she was revealing all her thoughts on him too soon. It was almost demanding that'd he'd reject her theories, deny them to high hell.

But, still, Hero wanted him to honestly know her thoughts. The girl half expected to be yelled at, to be told to go away. Which, was why she stood so close to the door, her hand twitching with the almost expected knowledge of having to reach for the door knob. Hero knew there were cruel sides to good people, which came when they were fronted with the truth too soon. She hoped, though, for the best, but honestly expected the worse even from Greg. It didn't mean she wouldn't return, it simply meant she was planning on not staying.

Of course, even he could see her limp was worse. She was in no condition to make a walk out of here. Better than anywhere else she could go... just where in the world did she live where she would WANT to be in a cemetery? "I say that because due to my current state... a more malevolent soul than I may pay a visit. He rather despises intruders, and will do almost anything to be rid of them." He said this as seriously, as grimly as he could to leave no room for doubt.

At her comments, he blinked, in disbelief. She stated them so candidly, at the same time staring up with innocent eyes. "Hmph, you've met me for what, a few hours and think you know me?" he asked her, his tone holding an edge again. "I will say it again... this is NOT the place for you. Go back to your place, and I will return to mine." He folded his arms now, but one would notice his hands actually went right through his arms. That was the other reason he would prefer she didn't stick around. He felt weary right now, for his actions, for everything in general, and needed to rest.

Too weary to yell in denial, but too stubborn to let her stay either. He leaned against a nearby wall, exhaling deeply.

"Just... go. I will not have you here any longer this night." His words certainly were cold as the stone he worked around. But did he honestly mean it? Or was he just saying it to somehow protect her? Either way, right now, he just wished to be left alone so he could shed his boots, his hat, and fall asleep. Maybe Grandfather would not visit? He doubted that very much... the Guardian never missed an opportunity. Especially not one as ripe as this.

Hero, though she expected the words, nonetheless flinched at them, as though she'd been struck. "I am sorry," she said in a soft, disheartened tone. Perhaps hoping had even been too much. Without the strength to fight, Hero turned and left the home. She had no will to go to her own place, and nowhere else to leave to. So, after idling for a few moments, began walking up the path. Her ankle throbbed dully, painfully, but Hero did her best despite it. She tried to lean awkwardly off the limp, so perhaps it would not be so visible. After making it up the hill, the girl finally gave up and sat beside a gravestone.

"I don't know if you're still here..." she whispered to the dead person in the hole beneath her, "but I'm sorry for resting here. I hope you understand what I mean when my heart is as tired as my body. I am weary, with no other place to turn. I have no friends, no love, nothing but a dreadful ruled life back home. I cannot go there tonight, not after I ran away. Father would only strike me again. Maybe I could stay the night at a police office? What do you think of that?" she whispered quietly, the question directed to the inhabitant of the grave.

It only took a few moments before Hero began to feel cold. She stood up, thinking that perhaps going to the police was best. The girl walked painfully to the gate, finding it locked. That was right... She'd jumped it. Considering her ankle, that was impossible now. Groaning, Hero felt no other choice but to sit back down and wait for morning, when it would be open again. She found a not-so-rough spot on the gravel of the walkway, spreading her legs before her, and leaning her back to the iron-rod fence. Maybe... coming back here wouldn't do any good either. Perhaps she should just leave, and let that be that. 'No, Hero,' she told herself stubbornly, 'That would only be acting like Greg. Remember, you're your own person, who may not have a very strong spine, but you do have one! Bring beer, he'll forgive you for that.'