OPEN: Kirkwail

[faderifting]

WHO: Anyone
WHAT: Ghosts
WHEN: Wintermarch 20
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: OOC post. More content warnings than you can shake a stick at, probably, including allusions to slavery and violence in the body of the log post. Please use appropriate warnings in the subject lines for your own threads.

The storm sweeps in like an assassin: unexpected, in the dark, and throwing sharp pricks of sleet at exposed eyes and noses with expert aim and enough force to almost draw blood if the angle is right. Half an hour after the clouds crest the cliffs is all it takes for the city to retract indoors and huddle around fireplaces, settling in for a long night that will, unforeseen, turn into a long two days.

The Gallows, too, is pelted with ice; the walls of the cliffs and the fortress protect much of it from the worst of the wind, but when it can find a path over or through the walls, it slams through windows or doors to scatter papers and snuff out fires.

In the dark, in the rain, hurrying between towers or already accustomed to jumping firelight casting strange shadows and the wind howling like a wounded animal, people might be forgiven if they don't notice at first. But there's a hanging in the courtyard, a dozen translucent wisps of bodies dangling from the idea of nooses, and there's a girl's voice in the basement of the templar tower screaming for her mother, and there's a ghostly man in the library holding the blade of a knife to his palm and whispering this is it, this is it—or maybe there isn't, actually, when you lift your head to pay closer attention.

But as the night wears on they multiply, and they brighten, and even if you haven't noticed them, they begin to notice you.

Comments

[swordproof]

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Christine."

She looks distinctly uncomfortable, glancing back at the spirit for a moment before she takes a deep breath.

"I... My name is Six."

[aceso]

"Oh, my mistake." Though she assumes the spirit pulled such knowledge from the woman's own sleeping mind, and it's therefore probably what she was once called.

Christine is about to gesture that Six should come with her when she remembers Faith and turns slightly to acknowledge her.

"This is Faith. She's also a spirit, but a bit more knowledgeable about the waking world. She isn't like the rest of the spirits running amok."

[swordproof]

Six does not know what the spirit might have done, but she can make the assumption; Adrian knew her as Cecilia, nicknamed her 'six', was not alive to witness her claim a new name. She had been young, desperate for attention, for something to guide her and lead her, and she had accepted the love he had given her. It had been limited, but she had wanted it; a gentle love she had thought she had deserved.

Pushing herself up, Six makes sure the strap her clothes back in place, lifting her head up and trying to stand tall.

"I am glad to meet her." She offers an awkward bow. "And you."

[aceso]

Christine smiles faintly and Faith stands silent, observing the bow, but not returning it. The spirit does a great deal of observing so she can ask Christine questions later.

"Likewise. Come; let's head outside for some fresh air."


[ ooc: feel like winding the thread down soon? ]

sounds good to me!

[swordproof]

Six's eyes dance over the spirit again for a moment, comparing the image of Christine's friend to the one of Adrian still hovering behind her before she breathes out.

"Will that help?"