NTWF Mafia II: The Idyllic Village of Wafflenet

[Tiger]

((Not-too-long post is not too long. Apparently if you force Tiger to write a post before work, she's not horrible at getting something done =D))

Mick’s brief stint above ground gave him a direction and it gave him one fast – the ghost of Julie dropping toward Blaze. The blue ghost could practically feel the distance growing between him and Fluffle as he raced through the ground like some spectral, intangible worm – so not like a worm at all, really – but the mafia had to be stopped. Had to be.

He popped out of the ground several feet away, Blaze’s screaming an instant attack on his ears. The radio shot out of the ground, silent but somehow still judgmental. Julie had Blaze by the shoulders…through the shoulders…Blaze couldn’t fight her off physically. Diana was nearby, she was going to see this, but there wasn’t much Mick could do about that. In his heart, he’d known since fighting her outside Nets, No Waffles that it was going to come down to something like this eventually.

He’d hoped it would be with better weapons, without Fluffle trapped in a ghost-hunter box, and without an innocent being tortured in the process, but this was purgatory. Mick was lucky to be able to hover and fly on his own at this rate.

Tucking Creatures From Below under his arm, thinking belatedly that he should have skimmed the pages on the way back to the town square, Mick gathered his non-existant muscles, and shot toward Julie, aiming to pass through her chest and avoid those hands as much as possible. He wanted to shout something, release some of the anger searing through him, but outside of an action movie, dramatic shouts led to dodging.

Mick braced himself, and whisked through the ghost. Instantly, his nonexistent veins roiled angrily with powerful heat and an intense, burning pain… For a brief moment, pale-red vein patterns rose along his arms and neck and face. Mick felt his tail doing the spasming thing again.

But he whirled back toward Blaze, inserting himself in whatever gap had come between the musical ghost and the wolf-woman. “Leave – these people – alone!”

[Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff)]

(WHY IS THIS POST SO LOOOOOOONG)


Fluffle strained, trying to beat the glass with her hooves. Her efforts were fruitless—there wasn’t even enough space for her to hit the jar, or twist it out of the gun, or…do anything. She would contribute next to nothing for her town.

Just like before.

Fluffle gritted her teeth. All she had with her was her underused voice, her bow and arrow, the sugar dispenser that seemed like it had a mind of its own, and other assorted contents of her fluff. But what good would all her stuff do her now?

"Hey! What are you doing? Leave that pony alone!" A woman who bore some semblance to Rocky lit up several sticks with the words TNT on them. Fluffle was impressed. An entire team of judges and moderators condensed into several little explosive sticks? It seemed effective, but her captor fled before Fluffle could see what happened. She did hear several startled cries when the sticks detonated. What she wouldn’t give to blow something up…

Less than content with being in a confined space as though she was going to be made into glue, Fluffle watched in horror. The battle was still going on all around her, and the ache to be a part of it and cause a bit of mischief throbbed in her entire being. But no, it went unsatisfied, leaving Fluffle worn down with need. Fluffle pushed against the small jar, trying to break it through sheer force. She mentally cursed her situation and wondered why she was inside the jar…she had been careful…

I don’t like this any more than you do. I can’t help you without doing some deus ex machina thing, but you know someone who can.

That voice again—what did she want? And who was she talking about?

Fluffle racked her foggy brains on everyone she’d met in Wafflenet. Then it hit her…

Right after she’d died…

“Very well. Enjoy your time here. If ever you change your mind, let me know. You will find a way to contact me later.”

The alicorn! She wouldn’t call him to collect her, of course, but surely he seemed nice enough to help. How would one call a horse?...

It wasn’t her sheep ancestry that told her. It was her: her identity as a pony. Concentrating on the alicorn, his height, his horn, his wings, Fluffle struggled to get a hoof to her lips. She whistled a long, high note.

------

“But of course, Miss Obscura, I’m working,” a smooth baritone voice assured the protestor. “Do you think I’m sleeping on the job?” the alicorn breathed, calm as a tree. In front of him was a screen displaying several mares on Thane’s Grazebook page. Each mare was in a swimsuit, just waiting to be tagged.

The other voice on the line buzzed, indistinct. “What’s that? A pony calls for my services?” Thane frowned and closed the page. The ladies could wait.

“I’m on my way.”

-------

It took less than ten flaps of Thane’s massive wings to land in the town square of Wafflenet. He shook his head. “My, my. Somebody partied too hard.” He swiveled his head. Human deaths were not in under his authority unless the human was linked to a pony. Only two ghosts were, and both seemed busy. There was the revenant Metastophelous had been searching for. He made a mental note to tell Metastophelous what he could gather by looking at her, but continued with his search.

Thane’s ears perked up at a thought. He chuckled to himself. “Now, now, Miss Puff, no one pulls a false alarm on Thane and gets away with it.”

Fluffle tried to move to catch the golden alicorn’s attention. ((I’m pretty sure you know how that went.)) She whinnied in desperation.

Thane turned around and saw the pony’s terrified eyes inside the tiny jar…which was part of a ghostbusting gun…which was held by a mortal.

Buster gulped and clamped his teeth together. He would not let this giant horse with wings and a horn scare him into a corner. He squeezed the trigger.

Thane chuckled. “That only works for ghosts. You should know that; you’re a professional!” he chortled as he ruffled Buster’s hair. “Now stand down for a few moments. I must speak with your captive.”

Buster glanced over at Julie and Diana. They were occupied at the moment, so it wouldn’t hurt, not for a while, anyway. He nodded.

“Thank you for being such a wonderful sport, sir.” Thane walked over to Fluffle and peered into the jar. “So, you kept your voice after all? That was a sneaky little trick. No matter, I’ve found a magnificent use for the water in your fur. Well, you’re in there, and it bars you from any outside contact, so I can’t collect you and bring you with me like I was supposed to. This will create two months’ work of paperwork, but worry not, we will get it sorted in the end.”

Fluffle shook her head. She didn’t want to be taken! There had to be something else he could do! Fluffle blew a raspberry and gestured with her eyes toward the ghosts.

She did a double-take. That was Julie? And she was hurting Primrose’s owner? Not only that but—Mick! He stood in her way—not only Julie’s way, but Diana’s! He’d get himself disintegrated!

“What? No, I can’t battle for your town. It is not of much concern in the great span of life and death, but of course you are too young to know that,” he crooned, adding a tone of baby talk towards the end of his sentence. “You’re only five human years old, or were, when I tried to take you.” Fluffle neighed, insistent. He had to help!

Thane sighed and ruffled his wings. “For pony’s sake, Miss Puff, do you know what this would do to me? To every other ghostly pony who deserved to be taken up and didn’t get the chance? All of those lost souls? It would also break Pony Heaven’s affiliation with Purgatory, Inc., and we need all the help we can get up there.” Thane realized how out of character his exasperation seemed, and he lowered his voice.

“If you really want me to help, I can. But, the laws of No Easy Way Out must apply. I can’t get you out of there; that would violate the Deus Ex Machina clause. But your items, which are not you—“ he paused. “Do you rent space out in that thing?”

Fluffle rolled her eyes up and down, the space much too tight for a nod.

Thane laughed, reminding Fluffle of rain on glass. “I tell you, Miss Puff, you are a silly pony! Just tell me to whom I should distribute the contents of your inventory.”

Thane touched his golden horn to the jar, and a pile of ghostly and real items alike began to spill out on the cobblestone next to Buster, who glanced uneasily at the mafia ghosts.

It turns out her fur had contained:
• A bowling ball
• A blue book titled Ectoplasmic Herbs for Good and Evil
• A rolling pin
• A wallet
• A mysterious sugar dispenser
• A plush toy of a Changeling queen he’d seen before
• An anvil
• A bow and arrow, quiver included
• A white sprinkled doughnut (covered in fluff)
• A DVD of the first two seasons of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic—how did she get a hold of that?
• A rubber duck
• A baby duck
• An inflatable swimming pool
• The lid of an ominous-looking fountain pen
• A half-eaten yellow rose

She really does have the room to rent space in there, thought Thane.

Fluffle watched as the contents of her fur were emptied in front of her. Her fur became significantly lighter, and she felt almost naked. She shivered. It wasn’t as bad as being shaved, she supposed.

The bowling ball, anvil and rolling pin didn’t mean much to her, but her face lit up as Thane extracted the sugar dispenser and her bow and arrow. They could definitely be of use! The book could help, but it couldn’t fall into the hands of a demon.

Fluffle tried to stop a gathering of her essence at her eyes and throat upon seeing Thane pull out the yellow rose. She sniffled. Returning it would be wrong. Her eyes pleaded with Thane for him to give it back.

One of the alicorn’s floating eyebrows rose. He understood something was going on between his assigned pony and one of Purgatory Inc.’s metaphysical parolees. He did not question the yellow rose, but transferred it through the glass back to Fluffle.

Fluffle grasped the rose and sniffed it, amazed that she could through her swollen nose. The rose still had a faint scent of its previous holder. She belatedly discovered that she had a little more room in the jar, room enough to move her hooves around. Busting out of Buster’s tiny jar would be the first thing she did had Thane’s inquisitive eyes not peered in front of her, asking who should get what. It was almost as if Fluffle was writing her will.

The book would be dangerous if Diana had it. Tracy could cover it in tinfoil and no one would notice it. Fluffle pointed with a hoof to Tracy, who was brandishing a shovel. When did she learn to fight with one?

"If you're with the government, you're going down." Tracy! “Pbbptpblpb!” Fluffle cheered. What a crazy, wonderful lady.

The baby duck would be safe in Osi’s hands and no one else’s. Fluffle wasn’t sure if she knew how to keep it happy, even though it was contentedly nibbling at the furry, white sprinkled doughnut. She searched for Osilon, who was currently wrapped in Dove’s arms. Fluffle motioned to him, but…please, gently. she had thought, trying to see if she could telepathically speak with the alicorn. No one who was being hugged like that liked to be disturbed, Fluffle thought. She had mastered the art of hugs and knew how to use them.

A rolling pin and a bowling ball made for decent weapons. Fluffle tilted her head, unsure who to give them to. Perhaps some of the living who were defenseless.

The sugar dispenser could be deadly when thrown at a wicked ghost. Fluffle pointed to Rocky, who was, again, holding a rose. Rocky and his roses. Fluffle managed a faint smile.

A lot of her other items could be ignored.

Not so her bow and arrow. It was special to her, given by someone who sounded a lot like the pink voice. Its very essence had the aura of the pink voice’s bearer, and she knew that the decision to give it to someone was an easy one, but not one that should be taken lightly. Her eyes and hoof pointed to (here, the bearer of the pink voice swore, not used to being so predictable) the ghost in between Diana, Julie and Blaze. He could not handle two ghosts at once unarmed. Creatures From Below wouldn’t do very much to either of them.

Fluffle wondered for a brief instant if he knew how to use a bow and arrow, but reasoned he was strong enough to draw it and that the arrow rest was fluffy enough so that its arrow wouldn’t slide right out. An unskilled archer may be more dangerous than one with some experience, Fluffle thought. Mick would be able to use it. She trusted him, after all.

Thane nodded, never questioning her decisions, and just barely restrained himself from calling her a silly pony once again.

The alicorn picked up the book with his horn and dropped it into Tracy’s hands. “This is from Fluffle,” he said curtly, not used to dealing with humans.

He glided back to the pile and scooped up the baby duck and the doughnut. Thane silently placed them a yard away from Osilon, where the baby duck continued nibbling happily. No words were needed among the wordless.

Fluffle watched as Thane brought Rocky the sugar shaker, and two townspeople the bowling ball and rolling pin. Her eyes widened with gratitude. She hadn’t exactly done anything, but she knew this would be close enough.

“Use them wisely,” he had said to them. Thane was more than uncomfortable about dealing with these humans, but if it was going to make his little pony happy before she went with him to Pony Heaven, then by Celestia he was more than happy to talk to humans. Nopony should be upset in Pony Heaven.

Thane cleared his throat when he fluttered to the revenant and the…Celestia-knows-what with the purple hands. “Would everyone excuse me for a moment?” he said coolly, gently pulling Blaze out of Julie’s grasp and dragging Mick a few yards away from the mafiosos. They weren’t all human, so Thane was much more at ease. Thane handed Mick the bow and arrow with its quiver.

“Do attempt to not get this destroyed. It belongs to Fluffle. Of course, with the same logic, I trust you shan’t get yourself destroyed?” Thane cackled, half a smile forming on his long face.

He noticed the other two ghosts, who seemed more than disappointed that they received nothing from this strange immortal alicorn. “Begging your pardon, ladies, but you both operate on a much lower floor than the company I represent. Besides, I’m here for the pony. While I cannot collect her at the moment, I have eternity to wait.” Without another word, but one wave towards Buster, he beat his gigantic wings, shooting into the sky, all the while thinking about how to tag his favorite mare in that photo…

Buster breathed a long, weary sigh, and popped another aspirin. Today was going to be looooong…

[Gelquie]

Blaze's screams were painful to Julie's ears, although that was more due to the sheer volume than the content of the screams. But Julie made certain to concentrate fully on Blaze's screams, savoring them as she kept her hands as still as possible, even when Peeta jumped right through her. She only laughed at this.

"I'm the jerk? After what you've done, you really should've seen this coming," Julie said bluntly. "You've taken or helped to take everything I care for. My friends, my real family, and now my life. I get that you wanted to kill me, but you were messing with the Mafia, my friends, and me. And now we're taking your life for ours."

She motioned her arms towards Buster. "He understands better than you--" Julie was cut off at the sight of this strange horse being that had appeared, and had begun talking to each of them.

"What?" was all Julie said before she felt someone phase right through her, and she felt as if every fiber of her being had shifted all at once, and she instinctively pulled back, wavering in place. She certainly didn't expect this sort of side effect to being a revenant. She wondered if there was a way to prevent being phased through by other ghosts, because this was the most unpleasant feeling she had ever felt. ...Well, the wavering feeling combined with being cold and lifeless was the most unpleasant feeling she had ever felt... Julie shook her head, trying to focus on her anger. At least that part of her was still warm.

By the time she had restabilized herself enough, Mick had filled the gap between herself and her intended victim. “Leave – these people – alone!” He said to her.

Julie tried to pull herself back together for a short moment. "Oh, look who comes to finally visit," she spat. "Why shouldn't I? And why are you even bothering to defend these people? These were the same people who hanged you, and the same people that you helped to kill. You're not on their side. You betrayed them just as much as you betrayed us. You can't even be loyal! Did you know that the deepest circle of hell is reserved for traitors? Well, you're twice a traitor. That makes you the worst sort of person. You shouldn't be willing to show your face anywhere ever again."

During her rant, the large pony had managed to walk over and bring Blaze back a bit, increasing the distance between them, even without Mick, who was also taken further back.

"Begging your pardon, ladies," the alicorn said to them. "But you both operate on a much lower floor than the company I represent. Besides, I’m here for the pony. While I cannot collect her at the moment, I have eternity to wait.”

"Oh don't worry, you'll get your chance to get her, assuming she doesn't follow Mick to the hell that he gets," Julie said, folding her arms, though a part of her was instinctively trying to straighten herself up again. "Besides, I don't need anything from you. I've got better things to worry about."

Julie looked over to Buster and glared. "And if you know what's good for you and your family, you won't ever again stop working until you're done."

Buster gulped down the aspirin in his mouth and nodded his head forlornly. Quickly, he turned his gun towards another ghost and fired at them.

Julie nodded and began her approach towards Blaze again, trying to push Mick to the side as she did so despite the fact that she was still wavering and weakened. "Now get out of my way."

[Celestial]

Julie caught on to what Diana meant immediately, something she was thankful for. As much as she valued her friend, she was still quite uneducated sometimes but here, they were clearly on the same page. Julie immediately took off for Blaze, although she could not grab the girl, Diana could see that it hurt her. All the screaming and swearing made Diana very pleased indeed. It felt like revenge, sweet justified revenge. As long as she got that, she was happy

She was about to reply to Terra, rolling her eyes at how somebody like her could be so ignorant but the ghostbuster's appearance sent the ghost into a panic and she vanished. One less idiot to worry about. Since Julie seemed to have incapacitated Blaze for now and the wolves were having no effect, Diana slowly and leisurely paced over to them both, her mind already going over the pain that she was going to inflict on Blaze. Her very touch hurt and being able to mess around with internal was also handy. Perhaps she could peel Blaze's skin off bit by bit or even just tear up nerve endings. Or both things, she had time. It wasn't like they could be stopped.

And the Mick appeared, separating Blaze and Julie. Diana scowled as he once again spouted self-righteousness, even though he was the worst of traitors. How he could hope for redemption, Diana did not understand. Her anger grew even hotter when she saw the book he had with him. Not even Mick's pain could soothe her. Plus now, Blaze had gotten out of Julie's grasp completely thanks to the strange alicorn that had descended. Diana roleld her eyes at it.

"What could you possibly offer us anyway that we cannot get ourselves?" she asked. "And you can have her. We're after something else."

With a few quick, easy steps ran over to Blaze and grabbed her by her hair. It took a lot of focus to grab so many corporeal strands but Diana managed it. She tried to not show how much she had to work on it.

"Be a good girl now and don't struggle. You caused us a lot of grief and many sleepless nights, Blaze Wolfstorm. You need to pay for it," she said softly in her ear and reached into her head, her hand going through Blaze's eyes, nose and then down her throat. The crimson glow intensified. "I would say this won't hurt but we both know that it will. You will suffer a lot before we're done with you."

She continued moving her hand through Blaze, in particular moving it through her lungs and her heart, letting the disease and the burning spread through her. As she did, she looked back up at Julie and Mick.

"You are technically correct, Julie, but Mick would belong on the second level of the ninth circle of hell, in the Antenora for the betray of community ties. Possibly in the Judecca if you consider me his leige lord. Either way, it would not be pleasant at all," she chided gently, holding Blaze up for Julie. "Poetry was never your strong suit but you do what you're best at. Add a little more pain to this girl's short life."

"And Mick, what exactly are you trying to accomplish? This town will not take you back and as for your sins, you're darned if you do and darned if you don't. There is nothing you can do for these people. Look around you, they are already broken and destroyed, all thanks to your good work," she paused and thought about this. "Well, mostly our good work but you helped. You were such a good little mook too, always so fearful. But it does not matter now, Mick. Just let this town die, it would be so mcuh easier. Or, I suppose, you could die with them. Buster!"

The ghostbuster looked up from where he was talking to the alicorn, fear suddenly gathering in his eyes. He knew Diana was the godmother and her new reddish glow and the fact that she currently had her hand in the body of somebody who was clearly in a lot of pain did not help her already terrifying reputation. Diana thought she probably looked like the devil, except not the pathetic creature that Dante Alighieri described. Nor was she the stylish but subtly evil Satan of Master And Margarita. She was the devil that people must have seen in dark forests and desolate places, when the only warmth and light was the rapidly disappearing fire in the hearth as the dangerous night crept in, bringing all sorts of evils with it. Yes, she liked that. Diana smiled at Buster.

"You have a new priority. Take out Micky boy there. He's a traitor and he's being annoying," she shot him a glare, increasing her scarlet glow for a second. In the process, she lost some of her grip on Blaze. "DO IT."

Buster nearly jumped out of his skin but he was good at obeying orders. He turned on his ghostbusting gun and advanced towards Mick. Diana grinned viciously.

"Be a good boy, Mick. This way you can be with your lovely girlfriend."

[Lizica]

This was all getting a bit overwhelming. A few government goons were beginning to disperse and flee, multicolored ghosts were blurring the skies above, a man with a gun had vacuumed up Fluffle, birds battered everyone as the sky cleared once more, and Tracy had no time to ponder anything, and on top of it all, her ideas of aliens had just been blown to smither--

"Hey! What are you doing? Leave that pony alone!"

A girl from the rock farm tossed...--sticks of dynamite?!

The man with the bulky gun stared down at the dynamite; the ghost of Mick smacked him in the back with a book; and the man did not need to be told twice. He ran.

"Hey!" Tracy yelled. "Get back here!"

She almost ran after him, but tripped on the dynamite, shoot, they were lit, shoot, their fuses were sizzling down, shoot, shoot, shoot, not now, not now, not after everything--

Tracy, barely thinking, barely processing, scooped the TNT into her shovel and blindly flung the dynamite through the air, straight toward--

--Toward the gallows in the dead center of Wafflenet. Well, that'd be okay, right, that was the one construction that she'd been wanting to--

BRAKOOOOOM.

The force of the explosion knocked everyone in the vicinity backwards. Townspeople and bureaucrats cried out in shock. Charcoal, splinters of wood, and odd pieces of cobblestone rained down upon the square. (Somewhere down the town road, a house already filled with gas was triggered by the blast and exploded in kind, as if echoing the first.)

Tracy flew forward across the ground, skidding amid the flood debris, and her shovel skittered out of her hands. Coughing and hacking, she shakily, painfully pushed herself up onto her elbows. Bright lights danced in her dazed vision. Great scott, if the aliens were trying to help the town now, they were doing a terrible, horrendous job of it so far. What was happening?

“This is from Fluffle.”

An enormous blue tome entitled, "Ectoplasmic Herbs for Good and Evil" plummeted into her arms. Tracy yelped in surprise and stared at it. Looked up. Started coughing and choking again. (Aliens didn't look like flying unicorns. Nope. Surely not. Right?)

"And if you know what's good for you and your family, you won't ever again stop working until you're done."

That voice, talking to the man with the bulky gun... The ghost of Julie, hovering alongside Diana and Mick and Blaze! Blaze, being tortured-- Julie, Julie, what are you doing? Tracy wanted to cry out, but she was too unsteady from the explosion's shockwave. She staggered falteringly to her feet, the blood rushing dizzily to her head. She gathered Fluffle's book under her arm (would it be good for healing ghosts?) and cast her reeling gaze around desperately for her shovel...

"You have a new priority. Take out Micky boy there. He's a traitor and he's being annoying."

That was Diana, red and bright and yet cold and dark. Why was she doing this? How could she be doing this?

"DO IT."

There! Tracy's shovel! Half-buried underneath debris, half-covered in charcoal--

She grasped it, hurried over, limping, raised it up, and swung it unsteadily at the man with the bulky gun, the poor man who was commanded by the ghosts of people Tracy had known, once.

[Tiger]

Mick managed a shaky grin at seeing Julie in pain, though it was grim and short-lived. Good – he could hurt this one, too. But his own seared insides were grateful that Julie had some verbal combat to pad out the fight.

Oh, look who comes to finally visit. Why shouldn't I? And why are you even bothering to defend these people? These were the same people who hanged you, and the same people that you helped to kill. You're not on their side. You betrayed them just as much as you betrayed us. You can't even be loyal! Did you know that the deepest circle of hell is reserved for traitors? Well, you're twice a traitor. That makes you the worst sort of person. You shouldn't be willing to show your face anywhere ever again."

Mick glared at the purple-handed revenant. “What’s coming to me is coming.” At this rate, he wasn’t sure he could complete whatever mission he was supposed to be on. He’d already lost Fluffle… No. He couldn’t think about that right now. “I deserved hanging. We all deserved to die – I’m not going to waste my afterlife making the same mistakes!”

He opened his mouth to say more, but suddenly became aware of something very large and very foreboding behind him. “Would everyone excuse me for a moment?” A hoof landed on his shoulder – not pink, as he would have expected to see a hoof, but gold – and pulled him away from the ghosts and Blaze.

Mick turned and saw a huge golden horse with a shimmering horn and massive feathered wings. His jaw dropped. A memory came back to him – the sound of flapping wings, a deep voice with a horse’s whinnies… “Thane?” he whispered. (The radio made a choking noise – Meta ]knew he should have added another line to the book about keeping the illegal transmission a secret)

The horse’s horn was literally glowing – and not only that, but so were a bow and arrow. Mick knew that bow…he’d last seen it while falling through a roof, the weapon and the pony wielding it silhouetted by star- and moon-light… Thane dropped the bow and quiver of arrows into Mick’s arms, jarring him back to the present. “Do attempt to not get this destroyed. It belongs to Fluffle,” said the winged unicorn. Mick nodded.
”Of course, with the same logic, I trust you shan’t get yourself destroyed?”

Mick felt a more normal heat rise into his cheeks as he blushed – “Kid, this is so not the time!” the radio said - and nodded again, throwing the quiver over his shoulder.

The horse had some words for Diana and Julie, and they had retorts sharp and ready – Mick didn’t know why Thane had bothered. But he wished the huge horse would have stayed behind…probably he was bound by rules and bureaucracy like Meta, though. Mick squeezed the bow handle, and shot back to his place between Julie and Blaze. There wasn’t enough room to draw the bow – yet.

"Now get out of my way."

Mick saw Julie’s hand coming for him to shove him aside – a purple, glowing hand that promised plenty more pain where phasing through the revenant had come from. Mick acted instinctively instead of intelligently – he tried to knock Julie’s elbow up, but his hand just passed through the limb – a jolt of shock went up his entire arm, and with a snarl of pain of her own, Julie grabbed Mick’s shoulder and spun him around, pulling his back up against her and sinking her purple hands into his shoulders. Mick yelled as blood that shouldn’t even be in his body seared like fire, like red-hot metal, like lava...the spectral quiver kept him from being able to phase through Julie, and he couldn’t get the fingers of the hand holding the bow to uncurl and help him try to pull Julie’s arms off him. Through a growing haze of his vision, Mick saw Diana grab Blaze – he struggled to get through Julie and to the other revenant – stupid, stupid, phasing through Diana right now would kill him – but Julie’s grip was too tight…

His earpiece sparked and started up with its siren-like noises again; between its blaring and his own shouting, Mick could hear bits of Diana talking – another history lesson – and then his own name drew his attention.

”- Mick, what exactly are you trying to accomplish? This town will not take you back and as for your sins, you're darned if you do and darned if you don't. There is nothing you can do for these people. Look around you, they are already broken and destroyed, all thanks to your good work. …Well, mostly our good work but you helped. You were such a good little mook too, always so fearful. But it does not matter now, Mick. Just let this town die, it would be so much easier. “

Mick shook his head – Diana probably couldn’t see it, Julie probably wouldn’t even notice it – it would be easier, but he wasn’t giving in this time – he might be afraid, terrified – but he – was going – to fight…

“Or, I suppose, you could die with them. Buster!"

Then Julie was throwing Mick away – he caught a glimpse of his arms, covered in risen red vein-patterns. The ghost hit the ground, rolled, and gasped for breath. “Get up!” Meta shouted. “Get up!”

Mick managed to raise his head – Diana still had Blaze -


"You have a new priority. Take out Micky boy there. He's a traitor and he's being annoying. DO IT."

Mick’s gut should have contracted, though he likely wouldn’t have felt it over the searing, aching, hot-scrapped feeling all over his body. The ghost-hunter was coming toward him, gun raised. "Be a good boy, Mick. This way you can be with your lovely girlfriend."

WHACK¹. The ghost-hunter staggered, the gun falling out of his hands and tumbling into a small crag caused by…an explosion? Mick had missed that, apparently. Buster went for the weapon, but Mick gasped, “Wait! Buster!”

Buster looked over at Mick and blanched. The ghost had drawn Fluffle’s bow and one arrow.

“You don’t understand,” Buster said, his voice shaky and attempting to be placating. “My family – my wife and children – “

“No, I understand!” Mick snapped, his voice wobbling with exhaustion and pain and a sick fear – Fluffle’s in that gun, please, please, please let her be okay” “I know you’re scared and alone and surrounded by things you don’t understand! I get it! But you know what happens when you start working for people like them?”

A sick, humorless laugh trembled from his lips. “It only gets worse – you start out – you start out easy – extortion money, trapping the undead – and then – then you’re suddenly knee-deep in blood, and bodies, and you know it’s wrong – but you were too scared to get out when the going was good, and there’s no way you’re brave enough to get out of it now…so you keep going…your soul’s tearing itself apart but you’re too afraid to stop…”

Buster had paled considerably, but whether that was fear of the arrow pointed – unsteadily, but pointed – at his chest, or because the words were resonating wasn’t clear. From the corner of his eye, he saw the orange-toned radio float to his side. “Keep talkin’, Micky,” Meta said, so softly Mick doubted even Buster could hear it.

“And what about your family?” Mick lowered the arrow slightly, his arms shaking. “My town hung me. They hated me. They should hate me. Your children…” He noticed a ring on the man’s hand. “Your wife…Have you seen – have you seen anyone you love look at you like…like they don’t know what you are anymore? Like they can’t trust you…and you know they’re right?” His eyes ached with tears that wouldn’t come. “What if these two ask you to get rid of them? They’re…they’re an invasion. Competition.”

Buster stammered, “You don’t – they’ll hurt them if I don’t do this!”

”Darned if you do, darned it you don’t,” Diana had said.

“This isn’t the way,” Mick pleaded. “Bring them here – we…the town, they can protect them.” Not a very firm statement, at first glance, but Mick saw the town differently - he’d seen Blaze patch up Britknee, Dove and Osi were huddled near a building, no less than three people and a supernatural creature had come to help Fluffle, Tracy had saved Mick from Buster… ”And you – you can stop them – you have a gun that sucks up ghosts…”

“They’re not normal ghosts! You can’t be sure it’ll work!”

Mick shook his head. “But if you don’t try..” Still, the ghost-hunter hesitated, and Mick tried to take a deep breath. “Please. You can’t do this – there are innocent people here…brave people...and ghosts. Just…just try.”

Buster didn’t move.

“I know you’re scared. I know it’s hard. Be braver than I was. Be…be better than me.” His arms finally couldn’t take the strain,and the bow and arrow fell to the ground. ”Please.”

For a long moment, Buster said nothing. “…If…if I don’t use the gun – if you – “

“I can’t…” Mick tried to raise his arms again, but with no result except a grimace and barely-suppressed hiss of pain. He looked around, desperately hoping for someone – anyone – as long as they had fingers…

“Well done, Micky,” Meta said, and for once, there was no hostility in Metastophelous’ voice. “I’ve got it from here, kid.” The radio bobbed over toward the gun like a dog waiting for its master.

Mick’s heart pounded – and he could actually feel a pulse because it sent waves of torment through his entire body. Even as he slumped forward, the edges of his vision darkening, Mick realized he felt something else, something he hadn’t felt in so long it was almost completely foreign – hope.

-----------

^{1 The cosmos officially recognize Tracy’s awesomeness – just as I was writing this, the music track I had on loop hit this spot. What. A. Champion.}

[Avery]

((Narrator Note: Heads up guys.. this round will be up until tomorrow evening. Let's call it... 7pm EST. After which the 'epilogue' round will begin. Epilogue round will have a short blurb bout the end of the battle, and then skip ahead to sometime later, probably six months, so please wrap up all warfare before then! 8D))

[Terra]

"I'm the jerk? After what you've done, you really should've seen this coming," Julie said bluntly. "You've taken or helped to take everything I care for. My friends, my real family, and now my life. I get that you wanted to kill me, but you were messing with the Mafia, my friends, and me. And now we're taking your life for ours."

“WHAT,” screamed Blaze, her voice increasingly hysterical from the pain. “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO KILLED HALF THE TOWN, I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU CAN COMPLAIN OH GOD THE PAIN -”

Suddenly, the ghost of Mick - who worked at Waffles, No Nets - who was an mafia member - flew into the narrow gap between Blaze and Julie.

“Leave – these people – alone!”

Was he...trying to defend Blaze?

Before Blaze could think anything more, a large gold horse - unicorn? Pegasus? He was winged and horned - pulled Blaze out of Julie’s grasp and the pain stopped immediately. Blaze fell to the ground and noticed that it was covered with debris as if something had exploded; when did that happen? Must have been while she was dealing with the OH GOD PAIN caused by Julie.

Mick and Julie exchanged some angry words, and then Julie started talking to some guy with a weird gun who Blaze hadn’t seen before - who fired his gun at a ghost and sucked it into his gun.

Blaze’s eyes widened. Now this would be a useful weapon - if she could get her hands on it.

She staggered to her feet - but before she could get anywhere, she felt a hot, painful hand somehow manage to grab the extremely short hairs on her head.

It was Diana. Again.

"Be a good girl now and don't struggle. You caused us a lot of grief and many sleepless nights, Blaze Wolfstorm. You need to pay for it," she said softly in her ear and reached into her head, her hand going through Blaze's eyes, nose and then down her throat. The crimson glow intensified.

Blaze tried to speak, but found she couldn’t with Diana’s hand there; a burning pain was spreading through the areas she was touching, just as bad as that caused by Julie’s hands. She wanted to scream, but found that she couldn’t, with Diana’s hand in her throat.

She was inexplicably heartened, however, by the news that she’d caused the Mafia trouble even before today.

"I would say this won't hurt but we both know that it will. You will suffer a lot before we're done with you."

The pain was intensifying and moving down into her chest. The urge to scream intensified, and Blaze struggled only to find that it made the pain worse; it felt like her internal organs were getting jerked around and poked at.

But if Julie and Diana were going to cause her pain before she died, that meant that she might have an opportunity to escape; if they weren’t going to be pragmatic about it and give her a quick death, that meant they might have a chance to slip up, and she’d be able to get out and fight for that gun.

(Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that many of the wolves had started running away. Finally, she thought. At least they’ll be safe.)

Now, if only she could manage to escape from Diana’s grasp somehow; she didn’t want to move for fear of organ damage, but that meant that she couldn’t do much of anything until Diana let her go.

She looked imploringly at Mick (she wasn’t sure he really was trustworthy, but what choice did she have?), and then at Tracy (admittedly, she wasn’t sure what Tracy could do about a ghost; maybe serve as a distraction?), and hoped that would communicate her message of “A LITTLE HELP HERE, PLEASE.”

[Gelquie]

Julie let out a satisfied sigh as she pushed Mick towards the ground, happy to see all the pain that she had caused for the traitor. She doubted that it would stop him for long, but it would at least be long enough for her and her friend to cause some damage. She looked up to Diana and sighed at her comment.

"Details. I prefer poetry where it's more likely to be heard." Then she cracked her ghostly knuckles and sunk her hands into Blaze's stomach. "Not like it makes it better for him anyway, though. And of course, this woman's pain is like poetry in and of itself."

It was then that over the screams, the heard the thwack of a shovel, and Julie looked over to see Buster get knocked down, and the weapon get thrown out of his hands. Julie gave Buster a warning look, as if to say "Don't think you can get out of it this way". Buster seemed to understand, and he began crawling towards the gun when Mick began talking.

By the time Mick was nearing the end of his speech, Julie was glowering at Buster. She knew she should have tried to shut up Mick earlier, but a part of her was just so curious to hear what he had to say. And now he not only didn't have a hand on his gun, but he was hesitating way too much. They couldn't afford to have that gun fall into the wrong hands!

Julie gritted her teeth, thinking of what to say, what to do. After a moment of pause, her facial expression lightened up, and she looked up while applauding loudly, her ghostly hands still inside Blaze.

"Bravo, bravo," Julie said sweetly. "I'll admit that's a compelling speech, worthy of song. Perhaps you picked up a few tips on charisma during your stint in the Mafia. You know, before you stabbed us in the back."

Then she glared. "Too bad it's pointless. Buster, you give that gun to anyone else or turn it on us, there's still at least one of us left, and we'll make sure that the lives of you and your family are forfeit. I'm sure they'll like you even less than the alternative when they find out that you gave up on their lives like that. Bring them here? Please, you act like getting rid of us will solve the 'problem'. If any of you could bother taking a look around anywhere, you'll see enough of the true world that you like to pretend isn't there. Even if you get rid of us, more crime will come up once things quiet down. That's how it always goes down. And knowing you, you'll probably just get yourself into trouble again."

Julie glared. "That's not saying that you will get rid of us, though."

Julie focused her gaze on Buster and his gun intently, as if daring him to do anything stupid. But mainly, she was looking for one false move from him or anyone else concerning the gun, watching and ready to jump.

[Avery]

As the battle continued around her, the pain once more overwhelmed Britknee and she likes, totes passed out again.

When she woke up she was like... in her apartment in the city? What!? Confused as all get out, Britknee like, glanced down at her totes wounded shoulder and found it... unscathed, her pretty creamy perfect skin just as perfect and pretty and creamy as ever. And like, instead of the lumpy mattress in her farmhouse, she was on her totes cool memory foam bed, the one she'd left behind in the city. And outside her bedroom there was... a voice.

Courtnee's voice.

... had it all been a dream, Britknee wondered? Like, moving to Wafflenet, buying a cow farm, Courtknee abandoning her, the murders and execution and all-out war? The more she thought about it, the more Britknee decided that yes, it totes had been a dream! Or more accurately, a nightmare. Cos like, she was way too kewl to ever move to the country! And she hated cows! And Courtknee was her BFFAM (best friend forever and more) and would NEVER abandon her!

Grinning from ear to ear, Brit climbed out of bed and paced across the room, opened the door. Glanced down the hall and to the kitchen at the end of it. And her ears had like, not deceived her: there was Courtknee, singing a song in her squeaky cute voice and cooking a diet omelette.

"COURTKNEE!" Brit shrieked, barreling over to her BFFAM. "Ermergard! I had like, the worst nightmare! We moved to a cow farm and then you left me and then there were murdery people and I got shot and my clothes had BLOOD on them! My designer clothes!!!"

"That sounds awful!" Courtknee said. "But gawsh, also a little ridiculous. Like, us with a cow farm? Totes ew!"

"I know!" Britknee agreed. "Gawsh, I'm so glad it wasn't real!"

And she enveloped Courtknee in a hug, just sooo happy that Wafflenet had merely been a dream. She'd never left the city after all! Life was good! Life was GREAT!

And then... as Brit pulled back from the hug... a sudden lightheadedness rushed over her. Her vision tunneled, blurred. She staggered in place. The apartment around her went flickery and black.

"C-courtknee," she squeaked. "I'm like, going to faint, I think..."

Courtknee started to talk, but like, before she could, Brit was falling, falling, falling... and once she hit the floor below, and opened her eyes once again...

she was back in the town square. The Wafflenet town square. The battle was still roaring around her. Her shoulder throbbed, and blood had started to like, seep through Yelly's bandages. Britknee tried to sit up, but a horrid wooziness instantly sent her sprawling back down. She couldn't help it then: she sobbed.

[icon]

Icon skidded to a halt right outside the town square, ethereal aura trailing behind. "Alright, let's see what's going on," he muttered, eyes darting around the square. Mob scenes, the remains of an explosion, townspeople fighting off suits-and-ties; oh god, it's just like the last time all over again, he thought. By that wall, he could see the spitting image of Robyn, must be her cousin Dove, and some weird ghost kid wearing some dumb goggles; traveling past, a doctor and a lady with... a tinfoil hat, Icon marked down as Odd; and in the center, several ghosts, a couple more people, that one had a ghostbusting gun, and he could see that two of the ghosts were...

Oh, lovely. Revenants. You didn't get far in a ghost town without decent knowledge of paranormal lore, and he had done his fair share of research. Highly dangerous, highly deadly, prone to grudges. These two seemed to be attacking a member of the town.

And there on the sidelines, he squinted to see, floated Terra, hardly visible to even the trained eye. That was her, of course; lurking in the confines of safety, waiting to see how things unfolded before she struck with precision deadliness. He made his way over.

"Snow," he said, tapping her on the shoulder. "You've been here longer than I have, even if it's just by a few minutes. I'd appreciate knowing what's going on, in particular why there are two revenants in the town square, what's with all the bureaucrats, and where my fiancee is, in whatever order pleases you." She was cynical, and a bit of a pain at times, but she was the only one around who wasn't too busy to drop exposition.

He couldn't be having with this. Not today, of all days.

[Robyn]

The angered shrieks and caws of the flock had calmed down long after Dove deemed it safe enough to let Osi go. They'd descended to a comfortable level (or at least as comfortable as one could call it, still being amongst the few government and townspeople duking it out), and she squeezed hard again for good measure before pushing him unceremoniously away.

"I'd ask what in the world you were thinking," she muttered, "but it looks like we've got bigger problems at hand. Many akuyakus are still at large. We have to keep helping."

Though her words were true enough, neither of them moved after she spoke, both silently mulling over the latest actions of the other. She saved him, simple as that. Did her worst enemy a favor. Sure, it was intentionally for the good of the town, but... there was no denying that there was a definite embrace that had occurred. And as much as she hated to admit it, it hadn't been terrible. Not anything to write home about, per se, but not horrible. Maybe even mediocre.

Dove saw the barest flicker of a smile upturn the corner of Osi's lips, and he stuck out a hand. Truce?

She sighed, and with a barely concealed roll of the eyes, she met his grip. "Fine. But don't read too much into this. You're still the biggest baka I know."

After a firm, less-begrudging-than-usual shake, Dove pointed out towards the battle. "Look, there's still some agents out there! Let's see what a good scare will do them..."

* * * *

Robyn zoomed over the crowd, unblinking through an explosion, gunfire, and smoke. Nothing she hadn't seen before, of course. That very fact was all the more saddening, though. How many towns had also or were also succumbing to this sort of senseless violence all over the country right now? The world, even? She bit her lip and instinctively gathered the train of her dress up as a rogue baseball bat swung under her. Had to steer clear of the hands attached to it, after all.

The good news was that the birds seemed to have calmed down. As silly as her cousin could be, Robyn always trusted that she was capable of amazing things. (And that young man in the goggles she'd been speaking to afterwards-- so familiar! Was he an old family friend?) But the bad news was prominent everywhere else: shouts and screams ringing out in a dissonant symphony, blood streaking through the gaps in the cobblestone. Was there anything she could do?

A horrible, LOUD cry of pain got her attention. Robyn jerked to a halt, just in time to catch a glimpse of a malevolent-looking ghost inflicting some kind of torture on a short-haired girl with apparent lungs of steel.

Revenants, she thought, growing uneasy. Icon's extensive research into the many different branches of the afterlife had been interesting, but she never thought she'd have the misfortune of ever running into one of these monstrosities during her just rewards. But you couldn't put anything past eternity, she supposed.

The screaming girl wrenched around in the ghost's grip (a full-blown mafiosa, by the looks of it), and Robyn felt heated energy rise to her face. Call her bitter, but she had a bit of a distaste for anyone willing to associate themselves with organized crime after everything she'd been through. She said she was going to help Dove save her town, and that's exactly what she was going to do.

Well, no idea if this will work, she mused, bracing herself, But nothing ventured, nothing gained!

Without bothering to announce her presence, Robyn raced over to the scene, phasing hands first into Blaze's body from the front-- and unlike her ghostly antagonizer, disappeared completely inside.

Now, the ghosts of Netwaffle had of course been dead for a lot longer than these freshly killed Wafflenet citizens, and something they hadn't had time to do was discover their IMEs, as the Netwafflians liked to put it-- otherwise known as their Individual Magic Effects. They could be thought of as special talents for ghosts, simply supernatural talents that tended to manifest after truly settling into death. Terra herself had honed intimidating electric powers, but the slightly embarrassing fact of the matter was that since the whole incident with the typewriter, Robyn discovered she had a knack for possession. Quite a strong one, too, hence the whole fiasco last time.

Ordinarily, Robyn shied away from possessing people. It was, frankly speaking, quite an invasive and unpleasant process for both parties involved, but she would be double-dead before she was going to let some no-good, beret-wearing mafia member take any more joy from the pain of innocents.

Working her way up through the spiritual channels, flashes of memories passed her by, just as she knew memories of her own self would be passing through her host's simultaneously-- heated family arguments, long nights spent in the wilderness, the "smiling" faces of wolves panting as they lounged in their pack. Claribel-- disgust-- Blaze-- belonging-- shouting-- screaming-- PAIN--

Robyn winced as she approached the source of the trauma, two blazingly violet vortexes twisting around the girl's vitals, scorching her blood. Getting closer was like sticking her head into an oven, but past the heat, she could see that the swirling circles were actually two hands. She could meet that.

Blaze, Robyn communed from within, I'm sorry about this, I know it's strange, but I'm a friend, and you're gonna have to work with me to get this to stop! Focus your energy towards me! If we work together, I think I can force her out!

With that, Robyn locked hands with Julie's. Her own cry of pain came faster than she anticipated; it was like gripping lightning and being unable to pull away.

Come on!!! she urged through a gritted mind, Focus!

Distantly, she hoped Blaze /would/ hurry so that there would be no danger of her dress getting singed. But only distantly.

[Lizica]

Tracy's already spotty vision was speckled with tears. Partially from being moved and partially from pain. She leaned heavily against the nearest building's wall, panting for breath and distantly listening over the sound of buzzing and rushing blood in her head. But even through her dizzy vision, Blaze's pleading face became clear as day.

They were still torturing her. How could Tracy help...? Maybe if she could grab the ghost-vacuum-gun, she could--

"Too bad it's pointless," said Julie, as if eavesdropping on her thoughts. "Buster, you give that gun to anyone else or turn it on us, there's still at least one of us left, and we'll make sure that the lives of you and your family are forfeit.

Two versus one. Two torturers versus one gun.

Two torturers versus one town. One town, made up of many parts.

Tracy squinted at the building she leaned upon. The diner. Waffles, No Nets. Good.

"I'm sure they'll like you even less than the alternative," Julie went on as Tracy stumbled slowly towards the diner's door, "when they find out that you gave up on their lives like that. Bring them here?Please, you act like getting rid of us will solve the 'problem'. If any of you could bother taking a look around anywhere, you'll see enough of the true world that you like to pretend isn't there. Even if you get rid of us, more crime will come up once things quiet down. That's how it always goes down," she added scornfully as Tracy quietly squelched her way into the diner and into their storage room. Ah--yes, there it was. Tracy rubbed her eyes and moved forth. An economy-sized sack of salt. Opening it, it had clearly been molded into a solid block by the flood waters, but no matter. Shovels were good for a lot of things in addition to simply digging holes, thwacking stupid political officials, and hurling TNT across a square.

She struck the salt.

It wasn't on par with her careful tin foil hats. It wasn't like her schemes building the radio tower. It wasn't Mrs. Maphia's meticulous, genius science. It was very simple, all told. But salt had saved their lives last night, because Dove had used it, and then paid dearly for it. The only failure in this town would be the failure of not having tried at all.

Tracy paused as she turned to leave the storeroom. Fluffle's book! It was still tucked under her arm. She didn't have much time, but she quickly flicked through it--ectoplasmic herbs that grew in ghost-cultivated gardens, obscure plants that could make life-sucking potions, reeds said to whistle in graveyards, how could she use this, there weren't any--aha? Sage, apparently, could help cleanse. Or repel. Or something. Tracy didn't have time to read all twenty pages on it. She scrambled around the diner's kitchen and managed to find a bottle of the seasoning, as well as a roll of tin foil. Good, good. Tools.

Grabbing the chunky sack of salt by the top, Tracy dragged the bag up the stairs of the diner. Dimly, beyond the veil of static in her head, she could hear noises outside still. She passed through the attic, climbed up out of the trapdoor, and scrabbled back onto the diner's treacherous rooftop.

It felt good to be up higher--it was clearer, and brighter here. With her sage, her bag of salt, and her shovel, Tracy took a post at the top of the roof, near the chimney, and looked out over the scene.

A few government buffoons were still scampering about. Ghosts filled the air (some of whom she didn't recognize). People were passed out. Some would never wake up. Courtknee was sobbing. Osi and Dove were together. Dr. Birch was fighting. Mick had collapsed. The Buster guy was hesitating. His bulky gun was still on the ground. Blaze was still in pain.

"H-hey!" Tracy croaked into the air. She was surprised her voice had returned at all. "Ms. Palladio--Julie--there's--there's a lot more good in this world than you're giving it credit for. When you look for it. Even you. You have--good somewhere in there. You--used to."

She shoved her spade into the bag of salt and brandished a handful of sage. "But if--if you're going to try to wipe out more good than you appreciate--then I--then I--"

She wasn't sure how to threaten ghosts. She didn't know how to threaten old friends. She'd never been able to properly threaten aliens. But for whatever reason, they had complimented her anyway. And somehow, that was encouraging to her. She looked out over the town again, at all the faces. She molded a loose tendril of her tin foil hat back in place.

She shoveled out a wad of salt and cast it over the side of the diner, lightly spraying the area with the help of the wind.

"I, uh...I have salt! And sage! And tin foil! So get a life! ...You know, as it were, you know."

[Draco]

Drake decided he needed to hear from some of the ghosts of the town himself. He focuses on who he can guess are probably the mafia of the town. So he begins speaking to Cow #3. So he flies to one side of Julie.

"Excuse me. I'm writing a book, and would like to know your story. Oh, nice hands by the way."

He mutters to himself about how the mafia ghosts of this town might have some sort of disease, and scribbles some notes.

"Anyways, I am a former member of a small town mafia, and I write. So I have ventured here for a story, so please tell."

---

Rocky was a bit disappointed that Julie just left him like that. Was he loosing his touch? He sighed and floated around. He sat depressed in a area that was recently exploded by tnt. Not a large explosion, but enough to hurt someone if they were near. Probably his sister's work he thought. He poked at the ground, then noticed something. At the center of each explosion, blue see through sticks of dynamite? Ghost dynamite? How was that even possible? Before he could do or say something, he heard a mooing.

In front of him floated the ghost of Cow #3. She decided to go for a walk, leaving her master alone for the time being. She was hungry, being a ghost she didn't need to eat, but it was habit. So she lowered her head and began to eat. Before Rocky knew it, she ate the ghost tnt! The cow hiccuped a little then wandered off again to graze just behind Buster. What she was eating, not sure...

---

Rocky's sister continued to chase and throw small sticks of tnt at Buster. At least until he stopped and was confused on who to attack himself. She was a little annoyed she was being ignored honestly. But she decided to wait to see what he did. Cow#3 began to graze around her. A odd hissing noise coming from her as she ate.

---

Rocky decided to try again with Julie. He flew over to her.

"So, you left before we could finish."

He puts a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, you still have time to figure things out and not be all freaky. Like her."

He points a thumb at Diana.

"Now here's a change of jobs, but... I have a song for you."

He clears his throat, and it seems the sparkles that surround him multiply by the dozens.

"Sing us a song, your the mandolin girl.
Sing us a song tonight.
Your hands are all glowy and you're freaking that guy out,
but here are some roses for your delight!"

He holds out a bouquet of roses to her.

[Gelquie]

Julie was so focused on the scene that she didn't notice until too late the fact that a strange ghostly woman who looked like Dove had disappeared into Blaze. And even then she only saw it out of the corner of her eye. She looked around for a bit, not seeing anything. She was about to dismiss it when she suddenly felt a grip on her hands, as if something had just grabbed them. She wasn't sure what this was, so she struggled, trying to free her hands from whatever had captured them while still keeping her hands inside of Blaze.

"Diana," Julie whispered to her. "Something's holding my hands in place and I can't move them. I'm trying to break it, but be careful."

Before she could do anything else, however, a strange ghost hovered near her.

"Excuse me. I'm writing a book, and would like to know your story. Oh, nice hands by the way. Anyways, I am a former member of a small town mafia, and I write. So I have ventured here for a story, so please tell."

Julie didn't even look up at him. A former mafioso who also had an interest in stories aside, she had other things on her mind. "I'd love to tell you, I really would, but I'm also really busy right now. Talk to me again after we're done with these villagers."

She then heard shouting from the rooftops. She looked up towards the source. Tracy.

"H-hey!" Tracy croaked into the air. She was surprised her voice had returned at all. "Ms. Palladio--Julie--there's--there's a lot more good in this world than you're giving it credit for. When you look for it. Even you. You have--good somewhere in there. You--used to."

Julie frowned. "Used to? That implied that I had 'good' in the first place. At least, what you consider good. And no matter how much you choose to be blind to it and the world, the dark sides are always there."

"But if--if you're going to try to wipe out more good than you appreciate--then I--then I... I, uh...I have salt! And sage! And tin foil! So get a life! ...You know, as it were, you know."

With that, she had thrown some strange substances off the roof. Sage and salt? Could that really do much to affect ghosts? Either way, she scowled at Tracy's comment.

"'Get a life?' What do you think I had this morning? If you wanted me to 'get a life' so badly, then you shouldn't have killed me in the firARGH!"

By this time, the salt and sage had begun to hit her ghostly skin. The combination of the two substances caused her to start looking slightly weaker. Not nearly enough at all to make her disappear, but enough that the color in her hand started to fade somewhat, and enough that the magical effect from her hands began to lessen. And enough that she couldn't fight as well over whatever had grasped her hands inside of Blaze.

"Just for that, you're next!" Julie called up to Tracy, trying in futility to rebuild as much of her strength as possible. But it was too late. The sage and salt were already taking effect, which Julie hoped wasn't a permanent one.

And just when things couldn't get any worse, Alex reappeared and put his hand on her shoulder, wanting to try again. If it weren't for the fact that her hands were preoccupied at the time, she would've pushed him away that instant.

"Look, you still have time to figure things out and not be all freaky. Like her."

"...Excuse me?" Julie said flatly. After all that she had done to the town through all of today, after pretty much giving herself away, the townsfolk were still convinced that she could switch to their side and betray her own best friend? She knew this town was full of gullible people (that was why she chose it), but even they couldn't be this stupid. Then again, perhaps that was why she survived as long as she did.

And then he began singing. Specifically, it was a parody of Piano Man. It definitely wasn't the epitome of singing, although Julie couldn't deny that the way he altered the lyrics on the spot was pretty good. Nor could she deny his passion. But she definitely couldn't deny that he could use a few more singing lessons.

She took one glance at the bouquet of flowers before looking away. "Not bad for a start, but no roses. But you know what? I think you will hear another song from me before the end. You just may not like the lyrics as well as you think."

She continued to try to pry her hands away from the force inside Blaze without actually removing her hands from Blaze, but it was even more futile now that she was weaker. She saw how much Diana was affected by the ghost water the other night, but she didn't expect those kind of herbs to be having that much of an effect on her. Perhaps a side effect of being a revenant? Either way, they had to get the upper hand again, and soon. Especially now that she couldn't immediately interrupt any attempts to grab the gun...