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Post by Nova on Mar 21, 2014 22:05:57 GMT -5
Things were terrible for one Nathan Lukas. He was running out of tea!! The recent deaths of the poor poor Mr. Stal and Khiran Chander sent the people in droves to the Starlight Teahouse to drown their sorrows in a cup of tea, and to talk amongst one another about the recent deaths. Maybe there was voodoo involved. Maybe. But it was true, both mafias came out of hiding just recently, and struck two innocent townsfolk. Oh if they only attacked each other! Nathan would be scared for his life, but events at the teahouse were too hectic to think of the murders. At last, the rush died down and he finished wiping off the tables. It was time for a much needed stroll... and well, he couldn't be alone for too long. Alone in his shop, with mafiosos around? Heavens no. That's asking for a knife to the throat, or a gunshot in the heart. Hands in his pockets, he walked towards the church. Snow was lightly falling in the gentle wind. He saw a woman on the church steps, waiting for someone. As he got closer, he saw who it was: Bea. "Hi," he said. His cheeks were red as roses. He saw her eyes, the colours of the sea. "I'm glad you're still here, alive. Aifam would never be the same without you." He didn't want to be so forward. Nathan continues to make $$$, goes to see Bea at the Church steps. Possible crush?! Scandalous! |
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Post by Avery on Mar 21, 2014 22:31:15 GMT -5
There was a lot of milling, but not a whole lot of talking-- which just left Bea alone to worry with her thoughts about Kylie. Part of her wanted to set off on a mad hunt for her daughter, but she knew logically that this was a poor idea: Kylie-- and Lucille-- could be anywhere in Aifam, and it was so very cold and dark... and there were two mafias-- two!-- on the prowl. Mafias who'd killed four people in the past two days alone. Bea was desperate for Kylie to be safe, but she knew that if she, Bea, were to fall prey to Abominable Aifam or Chill of the Night... her stomach soured. She had to stay alive to protect her daughter. "Hi. "I'm glad you're still here, alive. Aifam would never be the same without you."Bea whipped her head towards the voice and found Nathan Lukas, owner of Starlight Teahouse. Like Bea, he stood at the far end of the church steps, at the periphery of the crowd that had formed-- and was still accumulating-- around Father Niles, Lia Stabstrike, and the corpse of Khiran Chander. Bea didn't know Nathan well. Kylie would sometimes drag her to his shop to get tea, but Bea had always preferred her special potions to tea, and if she did have to partake in something non-alcoholic, well, she liked coffee. Black. And Nathan, despite his exotic teas, did not serve a particularly delicious cup of joe. So while many in the town were regulars of his shop, Bea was not one of them. She barely knew the man... and yet here he was, practically grinning at her. Telling her that he was happy she was alive, that Aifam would not be the same without her in it. "Um," she said back to him, scratching nervously behind Merry's ears as she tried to articulate a response. "It's-- nice to see you alive, too. I was just..." The crowd around her seemed suddenly oppressive. Too many people, too many people! A cold sweat broke on her forehead, and she clenched her teeth. ("I want to swim"-- "but you CAN'T"-- a scream, a tumble--) Bea shook her head and darted her eyes back towards Khiran's body, which Dr. Stabstrike had (mercifully) covered with a blanket that'd been offered by one of the onlookers. It was now, Bea supposed, just a matter of waiting for a morgue worker to come take the corpse away. But how long would that be? And really, was Bea going to just stand here the whole time, ogling? With all these people-- these loud people-- and-- She forced a deep breath, then forced a smile towards Nathan. "I was just heading back to the inn," she said. "I-- if you wanted to come, I suppose you could." It was just like her offer to adopt Merry at the pet store, earlier: Bea half-regretted the words before they'd even fully slipped from her lips. But now that they were out in the open, she knew she couldn't take them back. Bea was a bit taken aback by Nathan talking to her, and suddenly felt overwhelmed by the crowd as memories pressed at her. Against her better judgment, she told Nathan she was going back to the inn... and invited him along with her. |
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Post by Diana on Mar 21, 2014 23:36:32 GMT -5
“Calm yourself, young man!” the voodoo priest begged. “I am just a simple man of the ‘Woo! There need not be any more violence committed tonight!” “’Course you’d say that. Never thought you’d have to have to fight me, did you?” Winston jeered, taking a few steps closer. “Father Niles came to get me just minutes ago!” the mad doctor babbled. “Said somebody was in shock at the church door, and that Mr. Stal had been killed! We came back and found…” She gestured down to the slain form at her feet. “This grisly scene. There was nothing we could do.” “I beseech you, child, listen. I want nothing more than to end this town’s suffering.” “By making a sacrifice to your pagan gods?” “Of course not! The Trinity of the Weewoo Feather is –“ The priest caught himself, although Winston spotted a muscle throbbing in his neck. “Listen to me. I swear upon the Three Feathers, neither I nor Doctor Stabstrike were perpetrators of this awful crime.” “What do you mean, you didn’t do it?” Winston cautiously lowered his lightsaber. It might be a trap – but then again, what kind of evil villains would they be if they didn’t cackle maniacally and initiate combat? The cower/beg/flee response he seemed to have triggered was generally attributed to commoner NPCs, who were not made to stand up to lawless NPCs or misbehaving PCs. And he was a noble PC who only smote the unrighteous. Like these guys! Possibly. Maybe not. This was confusing. He didn’t like these stupid plot twists. A thunderstorm had completely failed to break out, though, so clearly this wasn’t the right time for the bossfight, even if they were the perpetrators. Maybe it was a set encounter to ramp up the tension for future events? Or – ooh, what if he needed the shiny Yveltal first? Having a giant doom dragon-bird of the apocalypse hovering over him would be pretty awesome for a final boss battle. With lightsabers! And it’d be all rainy and stormy and there’d be epic music, and – but, he was getting ahead of himself. He’d be keeping an eye on those two. Characters were never introduced to the plot without a reason. And a name like Stabstrike? Come on. Still, best to let them think they’d gotten away with it. “Well, sorry, dudes. You shouldn’t just go looming over dead bodies looking all aggressive like that during a cutscene. Can give a dude the wrong impression, you know?” He scratched his head. “But, like… if it wasn’t you guys who sacrificed that dude to your fluffy, un-tentacled noob gods, then, like, who did?” A crowd was gathering, and he waved them away. “Sorry, dudes, no boss fight tonight. Yeah, I know, I wanted one to happen too. You can all go home now.” Winston was disappointed in the lack of an imminent boss battle (cultists were cool!), but started making preparations for the inevitable final battle. He waved off the crowd that had gathered to watch his spectacular heroics. |
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Post by icon on Mar 22, 2014 0:19:40 GMT -5
"Hey, Ris." Coena watched as their friend continued to meander across the town square, occasionally stopping to blow a bubble of gum with that idiosyncratic pfhhhhhhh-ptak! leitmotif of hers. Geez, Coena couldn't help but think, she is really addicted to that gum of hers. Goes through sticks of it like a... like, y'know... y'know, like a thing that goes through another thing really quickly. Yeah.* The two of them chose to cut through the town square towards Boulder Point (an oddly-named street, Coena always thought, considering that it wasn't actually located near any boulders, nor was it particularly pointy). "Hey, Ris. Hear me out, I think I might know where we can get some clues." This got her to stop. Slowly, she turned around mid-step, head pivoting under her hat. "Yes?" "The Library," Coena mumbled as they ran to catch up with Ris. Two hands wearing mittens the size of oven mitts adjusted their scarf and hat. "Libraries are full of books and papers and stuff, right? We can go there and do some research and find out what's going on, we can." Ris paused for a moment. "That's not clues, Coen, that's research, they aren't the same thing. One of them is running around and lookin' at crime scenes and causin' a general ruckus, and the other is sitting in a boring room all day and gathering dust and reading." Ris frowned. "We don't have time to stop and use the scientific method here, there's a bunch of dead people in town and we have to help them--" "They might have donuts left over from free donut day yesterday." "--Count me in." If you're going to act like a detective, you have to think like a detective first, Coena mused as they turned west along Boulder Point, and everyone knows that the way to a PI's heart is right through the stomach.* Anyone who spent enough time around Ris Monaco found themselves thinking in bizarrely vague and poorly-constructed metaphors. It emanated around her like a radiator, except that instead of heat it gave of mixed mental frequencies, and nobody was allowed to adjust the thermostat.Coena managed to convince Ris that the two of them should head to Aifam Cove's Library to look for research clues. |
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Post by Chao on Mar 22, 2014 2:57:19 GMT -5
It had been the empty fridge in terms of dinner stuff which forced Siddhi to join the crowds which filled the Sirensong Steakhouse. It was not that she was antisocial per se, it was just that the day had left her on edge, especially witnessing a lynching murder through her paint brushes. But at least the food managed to calm her stomach somewhat. Yes, it sounded weird, even in her own mind, but that's how her stomach worked and Siddhi was fine with it. A small steak, lots of greens and some potato wedges later, she decided to put the day behind her by taking a walk in the silent evening air. Huge mistake! As her way took her past the church, she couldn't avoid the gathering crowd there. What she heard chilled her far more than the winter wind could ever do: Two more citizens had been murdered by the Mafias! And it was way too dark for her to get it out of her system by painting something right on the spot. Siddhi began to feel a panic rise in her, but she forced herself to take several deep breaths to reawaken logic. A slight wisp of fog seemed to be carried by the breeze into the pub, where according to the crowd Mr. Stal's dead body lay. But was it really a wisp of fog? She had heard others at the steakhouse mention that apparently Christopher had returned as a ghost. So what if she had just seen Khieran's ghost glide into the pub? And what if Mr. Stal's ghost was in there as well? She did not like the thought of seeing a corpse close up much, but... well, if more and more people of Aifam Cove were dying, there was a not too small chance that she might be one of them. In which case it might help to know about dying and afterlife... Help with the fear. With this, Siddhi resolved to try and find out as much as she could from the ghosts. And as there was no time like the present, she gathered her courage and followed the presumed ghost of Khieran into the pub. Siddhi has a steak, goes for a walk and encounters the crowd gathered around Khieran's body. After a brief moment of panic decides to do some research on dying and afterlife and follows Khieran's ghost into the pub.
(And I love all of you who so faithfully write summary spoilers!) |
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Post by Selm on Mar 22, 2014 8:25:25 GMT -5
Khiran was sitting cross-legged on beige carpet, tuning their guitar. Bewildered by this abrupt change of surroundings, they tried to look around, but found themselves unable to take control of their limbs. They seemed to have their body again... but it was moving on its own. "You sing a G for me real quick?" Khiran's voice said. But while they could feel the vibrations of voice stirring within their throat, they had not made the effort to speak. The hell is going on?They heard a peal of bright laughter sound in response. "You're joking, right?" A familiar voice. Enna's. "I can't sing." I remember this, Khiran thought. Last spring; they had the apartment to themselves for a few days, and they had invited Enna over to listen to a new song they'd just started working on. Their roommate never would have allowed it had he been around; he hated that Khiran would share so much of the band with her. "Just try," they coaxed, idly drumming their fingertips across the E string. "I'm sure you've got a pretty voice." "Okay..." Enna said hesitantly. She cleared her throat and softly sang a shaky middle note, her wavering voice quickly growing into flustered giggling. "Well, there might've been a G in there somewhere," Khiran teased, grinning. "I told you I can't sing!" Enna buried her face in her hands, cheeks glowing red. "I don't even know what a G note sounds like!" "No, no, look." Khiran set the guitar beside them and turned to face her, gently pulling her hands away. "You just gotta let yourself sing. You know? You're holding yourself back." "I feel silly," she muttered. "So? En, I'm the only one here. And there's no freakin' way you could make a bigger fool out of yourself than me," they added, smiling. "I guess. At least I don't talk to my cakes like you talk to your guitar." "Her name is Blue.""Dork." The next of their exchanges was muffled by a strange white noise not coming from inside the memory. It was growing steadily louder and stronger, a washed-out watery drone with metallic undertones, and Khiran's vision grew hazier as the noise pulsated. No, they thought dejectedly. No, please. Just a little longer. Please. Just let me hear her voice. The image of Enna's smiling face faded into the dark ceiling of the pub. The noise had sharpened slightly by now. They could hear people talking, as if they were in the next room over and Khiran had their ear pressed to the wall. They were not clear, but cloudy. Khiran felt a strange tugging sensation in the depths of their spirit. Someone's talking about me, they realized. And someone's near my body. Some of the townspeople must have found me. They weren't quite sure how it was, exactly, that they knew that, but there was no question about it. Ghost senses, I guess? They had a lot to learn about being dead. They rose from their place in between two of the tables—as far from Mr. Stal's corpse as space would allow—and turned to face the door. But before they could make a move, someone made their way through the entrance. Even from the far corner of the room, Khiran could feel their heat, their energy, their bloodpulse. This person was indisputably a member of the living. Khiran stood still, not knowing quite what to do. Khiran recognized their salwar kameez and dupatta as traditional South Asian dress. They were reminded of warm summers with their naanii-ji in India, back before they touched their first guitar, before they knew about making music. They spent their days in the village heat, running around barefoot with the other children and coming home for lunch in the afternoons, caked in dust, sunbeams trapped under skin. The summer before Khiran turned ten was the last they ever saw the village. Their mother never told them why, never explained what it was about Nani that angered her so much, why they were forbidden from seeing her. As Khiran grew older they began to understand, learned to read past their mother's dismissive words and vague answers. Mom, they thought, heart sinking. She would be devastated. Who would be the one to tell her? How can anyone explain that to a parent? How do you tell someone their children are dead? Khiran refocused their attention to the fleshy soul standing at the pub's entrance. "Can you hear me?" they asked curiously. It was the first time they'd attempted speech since their passing. Their voice sounded normal to them, but who knows what it might sound like to the bloodly being at the front of the room? There was no guarantee they could even see Khiran, in any case. Khiran anxiously awaited a response. Back at the pub, Khiran's new ghostly form allowed them to literally relive a past memory of Enna. Their memory was cut short by the overpowering sense of people talking about them, thinking about them, and being near their body; senses which appeared in the afterlife. They attempted to communicate with painter Siddhi Kaoti when she entered the pub, although they had not known her personally in life, and so did not recognize her. |
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Post by Lizzie on Mar 22, 2014 9:00:01 GMT -5
Dakota was scared. They would never admit it, but they were. They had heard things about Khiran before their untimely death. Things about their college life (and Dakota was jealous) and how they weren't so unlike themself. Nonbinary. They/them pronouns. Would Dakota be next, they wondered? They didn't stop to think for long. Being the sole morgue worker, they had a job to do. So, Dakota ran. After collecting Jack's body from his rocky deathbed, they had to face it. Khiran and Mr. Stal. Dakota dropped Jack off at the morgue, and, locking the doors, they noticed the "please return Enna's body" signs littering the morgue windows. Oh yeah, they thought, and sighed lightly. And so, Dakota set off. Dakota worries about their future, afraid to die, and reflects on what they knew about Khiran. They collect Jack's body, see a sign about Enna, and sadly go off to retrieve Khiran and Mr. Stal. |
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Post by Chao on Mar 22, 2014 13:34:19 GMT -5
Sure enough, inside the pub, Siddhi could see that the fog was indeed a ghost, the ghost of Khiran. And what's more, the ghost had reacted to Siddhi's presence.
"Can you hear me?"
The voice sounded a bit distant, but was still strong and clear enough for Siddhi to hear. She nodded. Now came the big question. Would this ghost understand sign language?
Hesitatingly she signed a greeting. <<Hi. How are you? Other than dead of course...>>
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Post by RielCZ on Mar 22, 2014 13:46:47 GMT -5
Rilen heard about the two most recent deaths through Channel 24. Cheryl's early report was being repeated quite frequently - but what bigger news was there than that of the murders of two innocent individuals by two seemingly disconnected mafias? It saddened him to see Mr. Stal was dead. The proprietor of the pub was one of the few townspeople he'd conversed with since his arrival in Aifam Cove. On one of his first nights - Boxing Day, he supposed - the boarder was feeling particularly bored and lonely and wandered up to "And To Think I Saw It" for a beverage. There didn't seem to be any other customers there. "You're new here, eh?" Mr. Stal had said. "Yeah," Rilen replied, stirring his drink absently with a red straw. "But I came here quite a bit in my youth. It's a real nice place." "I'm glad to hear you think so!" the pub owner remarked enthusiastically. "Just know you're welcome here whenever!" The boarder smiled and slowly sipped his drink. At last he finished, and, with a parting wave, left the facility. "Come back soon!" Mr. Stal finished. Rilen never went back. And now Mr. Stal was dead. Again, Cheryl appeared on the TV set. Again, Rilen, perceptive so he was, noted her clutching a small rectangular object through her pocket. At first he thought it might be an "instrument of death" but quickly dismissed the idea as nonsense propagated by a restless and frightened mind. Dressing himself for the cold outside, he wandered down to the Starlight Teahouse - another beverage facility in town he'd heard about - and ordered some Earl Grey. Though the location was swarmed with customers, he sat by himself. Word spread it was unlucky to be alone, anywhere; though here, at least, he was surrounded by many others, albeit indirectly. At last the crowds left, and he followed. Standing in the middle of Main, not doing anything in particular, Rilen sneezed. "Drat," he remarked. He seemed to be coming down with a cold. He hoped that wasn't the case. Rilen hears about the deaths on the news and thinks back to a conversation he had with Mr. Stal. Then he goes to the Teahouse, and, though the facility is crowded, he sits alone. He leaves as everyone else does, and, standing on Main, realizes he's probably coming down with a cold. |
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Post by Celestial on Mar 22, 2014 13:47:13 GMT -5
Lucille loved the way Kylie looked at her as they headed down the street. The time they spent together was...well, it has not passed in vain or slowly, that was for sure. Occassionally, she shot Kylie a glance, just to make sure that she felt like her attention was not ignored, but otherwise kept striding down the street. Even though Kylie's hands were full and she coudl not hold them, she still kept close to her, both to keep her safe and to enjoy her presense. The inn was full of Bea's cries, which was normal. The barking, however, was not. Lucille peered in with Kylie through to the bathroom where the cries were coming from and saw Bea there with the dog. She smiled. It was good for Bea to have more friends. Just meant she was less clingy towards her dear Kylie. She nodded in reply to Kylie and headed away to place her things down onto the table. "Of course, I would love to meet your horses," Lucille replied, following Kylie through to the stables. She stood rather awkwardly by as Kylie interacted with them, referred to them by name and even spoke to them as though she understood what they were saying, even though they could not talk back. It was the first time seeing the girl in this light. She looked...oddly lonely, talking to the horses as though they were her only friends. It occurred to Lucille that aside from her mother, Kylie did not really know anybody in this town. Even Lucille, who you'd think would be familiar to her, was a stranger. For the first time, she felt for the girl something more than just attraction. Her desire to protect Kylie before had mostly been for selfish reasons but now, now she wanted to help her. Lucille knew the world, perhaps it was time she shared it and this girl seemed as good as any. Certainly better than the tourists and the associates that Lucille had flings with before. She heard the voice too. The declaration of deaths. Her blood ran cold. It was new ones, of course, it had to be. She could not believe that people would be so shocked at deaths which were, relatively old news. Lucille put a protective arm around Kylie, hugging her into her shoulder and letting her murmur into her habits, even cry if she had to. "It's okay, Kylie, it's okay," she whispered gently, stroking her hair. "Let's go see what this commotion is about, shall we?" With her arm around Kylie, Lucille lead her out of the inn and towards where the cries had come from. She shuddered as she recognised the church, praying silently that it was not one of the nuns, or Father Niles, or even her associates who hung around there. It wasn't but it did not make the death better. Lucille hugged Kylie to her so that she would not see the body. "Go to your mother. Tell her we're alright," she told her quietly and stepped out of the crowd, carefully, towards the body. Abominable Aifam, their sign was right there. "Does anybody have any knowledge of who did this? If so, come forward. We will shield you from any revenge these monsters would execute," she called out to the gathered crowd. "And I pray, in the name of the Almighty Santa 'Woo, do not kill anybody rashly as you did Jack Ryan. We can only defeat these people by working together to find them and bring them to justice." Lucille takes Kylie back home and goes with her to look at the horses. As she does, she feels more of an affection and pity for Kylie as she realises how lonely she is. Upon hearing of the deaths, she comforts Kylie and suggests they take a look. They go see the body and while Lucille asks Kylie to check on Bea, she goes to inspect the body. She asks the morgue people to take it away and calls for anybody who knows anything to come forward, all while imploring there be no more lynchings. |
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Post by Selm on Mar 22, 2014 13:55:19 GMT -5
Khiran stared blankly at the living's hand gestures. It appeared to be sign language, meaning whoever this was, they were incapable of speech—or perhaps deaf. But they could work with that. At least they appeared to have gotten a response, meaning they were able to interact with the living. They would not have to face eternity alone. Thank God."Sorry, I don't know sign language," Khiran said apologetically, enunciating every word in case the person turned out to be deaf. Even if they couldn't hear, they would at least be a practiced lip reader, right? It was then Khiran realized they didn't even know how they appeared to the living. They hoped they didn't look too terribly menacing or ghoulish. They couldn't remember ever having had an experience with the supernatural before; they'd seen movies and read books about ghosts, of course, but that was different. They shifted their eyes to the floorboards, wondering what to do next. Was there pen and paper somewhere in the pub, perhaps? Suddenly, they were struck with an idea. Now that they had transcended to another plane of existence, the rules were different, weren't they? It was possible they had... new abilities. They cautiously approached the heartbeat at the front of the room. "Is it okay if I try something?" they asked. "So that we can talk." Khiran attempts communication with Siddhi, and they run into trouble as they discover that Siddhi uses sign language, which Khiran doesn't know. |
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Post by Chao on Mar 22, 2014 14:20:07 GMT -5
Siddhi had seen the blank stares in others' faces often enough to understand it even in a ghost's face. Khiran did not understand sign language. Well, at least she could mark off the idea of being able to speak any and all language after death. A soundless giggle escaped her mouth at the thought, while she fished for the small notepad and pencil she always carried with her. 'I can hear you.' she wrote, followed by: 'What idea do you have?' She checked the short sentences and sighed inwardly at how impolite the words felt. But writing took up enough time as it was, so in order not to keep anyone waiting for too long she had to limit herself to short sentences. She hoped Khiran would understand that and showed them the notepad. After sign language fails, Siddhi produces a notepad and pencil and asks what idea Khiran has. |
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Post by Selm on Mar 22, 2014 14:27:44 GMT -5
Khiran tilted their head slightly at the notepad the lifeblood had produced, reading the script.
I can hear you. What idea do you have?
Pretty handwriting, Khiran thought idly. They looked back up at the person.
"I... think we might be able to talk psychically," they said hesitantly. It was an idea that had appeared in their mind of its own accord, similar to how the close proximity of living beings to Khiran's body had taken them outside of their memory. Khiran attributed it to "ghost senses". "Like, telepathically or something. If I touch you. Is that okay?"
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Post by Chao on Mar 22, 2014 15:28:47 GMT -5
Telepathical conversation? Siddhi was not sure how that would be... would she invite the ghost into her mind if she agreed? But then, she reminded herself, she had come to learn about ghosts. And writing definitely was not a good communication medium. So...
'Okay.' She scribbled and nodded, bracing herself for however a ghost's touch would feel.
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Post by Rosalie Dylas (Maddy) on Mar 22, 2014 16:57:24 GMT -5
Dakota had calmed him down. Or they had tried. They were the only one that could. And he let them. They encouraged Christopher to open his eyes. It wasn't something he was very happy about doing. It was easy just to focus on Dakota's face. He'd open his eyes slowly and only focus on Dakota's face, nothing else. Dakota was just like he imagined they would be. They were... warm. They looked warm and nice and safe. And their hair looked just like how bubble gum tasted, which is probably why is was called bubble gum pink. He still wasn't very willing to use his new found sight. Dakota had to go get Jack's body and it was not something Christopher wanted to see or even be near. Because Jack hadn't deserved to die. He had been innocent and they threw him off the cliff. All the way to the bottom. So he was alone and not exactly sure what to do. The killings had to stop. They wouldn't though, once things like this started they never ended. Everyone would want the mafia dead and the only way the mafia would stop is if they were dead or.... in jail. Maybe they didn't have to die. If somehow he could get to the mafia before the general populace he could find someone who could put them in jail and no one would have to die! No one would have to be alone on an island with meat that didn't belong to an animal. "--Count me in."Christopher never forgot a voice. That was Ris Monaco and he also heard Coen. Ris was.... she had forcibly dragged him into her "investigations" and very literally usually it was Ris leading him along my his arm. He hadn't really wanted friends. But Ris and Coen kind of forced his friendship on themselves. He hadn't really minded. It was nice to forget about things. Ris was probably investigating the murders and if Christopher helped her then they could catch the mafia before the town did. It was the perfect plan! He didn't really float off the ground. If you weren't paying attention it simply looked like he was walking though if you looked close enough you would see there was a small space between his feet and the ground. He assumed he couldn't run into people anymore but that also meant he lost his ability to feel the air for obstacles. He wasn't willing to open his eyes yet but... He opened his eyes quickly, like a flash, he didn't get anything but two blurry shapes. Ris and Coen! "Ris!" he had never been so happy to see her (he could actually say that without adding "not literally"). He remembered that he had died so this was going to be a little awkward. "Umm... Hi." Good, good. "You're going to the library right? Can I come?" It would be just like before. Even if he wasn't the happiest person to be around, he considered Ris and Coen his friends, the only friends he'd ever had. Christopher hangs out with Dakota and attempts to get better adjusted to his new found sight. Then he overhears Ris and Coen. He has a brilliant idea that if he finds the mafia first no one will have to die and decides to team up with Ris and Coen. This won't end horribly at all. |
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