Closed A Certain Type of Someone (Marina)

[Zeran]

"Well you can," he casually commented. "Just because I want your company doesn't mean you have to give it, Miss Marina. It's pretty unfair forcing you to do something you don't want to, isn't it?" He had dropped his hands when Marina had taken his advice quite well, but, taking her reaching for his hand as accepting his offer, Zeran almost danced with glee. Almost. He'd restrained himself enough to stop any movement that might make the girl consider leaving the madman, but his foot still twitched despite it. He was making a new friend. Whilst Zeran could no longer see through Marina, and more colour soaked into her dress and face, she looked as if she'd been drawn on parchment and had her edges ripped away so she could stand free. There was no defining outline to her. At first glance, people might not be able to tell she was a ghost, but they would see she wasn't natural, especially with those eyes that remained their icy shade of violet. The chill of her touch gradually seeped into his muscles, easily ignored from seasons of facing regular mountain breezes, a sense of happiness along with it, detected by passive Auristics. There was something that had improved Marina's mood since its darkening appearance before he unfocused his sights on auras. Happy for the company or festivities, or something of more malicious intent, Zeran didn't know. It wasn't like he couldn't defend himself long enough to drew attention, if Marina had different motives than she let on, but no point worrying about things that might happen. Much better to enjoy any fun while it lasted. "I don't think I do," he replied. "You don't speak like any children I know, neither most people I know." Zeran stopped every so often, looking about to back track the path he had taken before encountering Marina. "It sounds more practised, like you've been taught how to speak, rather than learn yourself." He shrugged as he walked, arriving out into the streets without a moments pause to see where he was. If he'd taken the right turns, he already knew where he was. If not, he'd have a few fun surprises. And who didn't like surprises? "Is it true ghosts can't learn new things? If so, it means you picked up your speaking habits before you died." He smiled down at the Marina following alongside him. "Am I far off?" The presence of a ghost in the middle of the streets didn't seem to draw that much attention. People were either too drunk to notice, too caught up in the many activities of Lhavit's nights, or didn't seem too bothered by her. The pair drew a few glances for whatever reason, but it could've just as easily been aimed at the wide-grinning man, as opposed to the child-cut-out girl that walked beside him. One such person stared at Marina as he approached. Zeran found himself not liking instantly, stopping suddenly, staring back. Once the man realised he was now being stared at his eyes quickly found something else of interest, even if Zeran's didn't for a while, watching him check if Zeran was still staring at him as he quickened his pace and followed the street. "Nosey!" Zeran called after him, drawing a few more glances, that held only a moment's care, before returning to their own entertainment. Couples danced and sang with the music, in drunken stupor or bristling energy, as the streets glowed with flickering lights escaping from the open doors of taverns, inns and shops. A feel of regret edged across him, though he didn't know what for, it felt uncharacteristic for him. Zeran couldn't see, neither could he think, of anything he might be regretful towards. Glancing around, Zeran found Marina's small hand still in his own, though the uncomforting cold had reduced any feeling in his hands to minimal effect. He was passively picking up stray feelings that Marina hadn't bothered to suppress for whatever reason. "Something on your mind?" he asked, still leading her around the night life, at a slower pace to allow her to experience what she wanted. The chimes passed, and Zeran still felt Marina holding onto him. Dodging street sellers attempting to hassle you to but their wares, staying clear those who looked to have drank more than they could handle, completely avoiding tavern doors on the chance he would be pulled in again, occasionally stopping to listen to a skilled musician treat his audience to the rewards of many hours of hardened practice, sore throats, and sore fingers. "Oh there are plenty of things I am dying to ask you." There were probably better ways to word it, but hadn't the considered any before he spoke. Instead, Zeran plainly spoke his words as they came to him. "Though I have enough sense to know asking them all at once to be counter-productive. Besides, I don't want the first ghost I've made friends with to think I only want answers before brushing them aside." Zeran was always enthusiastic about meeting new people, regardless of race, though they usually found themselves at the brunt of many insults, designed to cut people as deep as they could. Some were exceptions, such as already being subjected to a similar situation that Zeran could already form his own opinions on. It was difficult for people to not show their true selves when faced with unreasonably thrown insults. It was in that instance he decided where he stood with them based on how they dealt with him. In Mirana's case, Zeran didn't want to miss the opportunity of talking to her. Whilst insults were effective at discovering a person's true nature, they were just as likely to ensure they avoided you every time they had the misfortune of sharing the same airspace. "If I were to start with any, other than the ones I previously asked, it would be: what is it like to be a ghost?" He stopped in the middle of the street, close to a square of enough size to be filled with dancing, accompanied by the works of numerous musicians' work blending in and fading as you moved closer and further away from them. "I'll probably be one someday, though I haven't entirely decided yet."

[Marina Agamand]

The pair was getting some stares, but Marina wasn't bothered. She was quite used to receiving suspicious looks, as any ghost would be after having visited multiple cities around Mizahar, where the attitude towards apparitions varied greatly. Zeran's reactions, on the other hand, amused her quite a bit. "Sir Zeran, please do not say strange things. Ghosts can learn quite fine. Why would they not?" Looking completely serious, the girl spoke an absolute untruth. But it was not a lie, either, as that is what she believed. Just as it's impossible for a human to see their own ears, certain things are impossible for a ghost to perceive about themselves. Marina was no different; with her mind firmly planted in the world of illusions and paradoxes, there was no way she would understand many of the fundamental pillars of a ghost's existence, even if it was pointed out to her. Hearing him say that he'd "probably be a ghost", Marina cast a long, ambiguous glance at Zeran, whose casual tone didn't match the immense weight of his words. No sane man would consider becoming a ghost for the sake of floating around. Granted, the world did not consist of sane men only. Maybe Zeran would consider the matter more carefully if she answered his question and told him how it is like to be a ghost. The girl opened her mouth to offer an explanation, but to her own surprise, no words came out. Without a doubt, she had a good idea about what being a ghost felt like, but she could find no words to describe it. The core of the problem was that she had long forgotten what it felt like to have a material body, so she couldn't make an effective comparison. A fundamental part of her being was missing, and it was not her body. When she died, or maybe even before that, she had lost something vital; something so important that she had needed time beyond her life to recover it. In her current, flawed state, she was not ready to face Lhex. What bothered her the most was that she couldn't put her finger on what exactly was missing. Marina snuck a timid glance at Zeran, and pondered if it would be appropriate to impose her innermost thoughts on someone she had met barely a bell ago. In the end, she decided to give a cautious answer. Picking her words to avoid sounding too cryptic, she expressed it in the simplest term she could manage. "Being a ghost feels... incomplete." She made a short pause, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, as if lost is thought. Her eyes were unfocused and seemed to look into the distance, not noticing the chaotic flurry of bodies around them. "Whether or not you will become a ghost is not a decision you can make here at this time. When you die, sir Zeran, is when you will know." Suddenly regaining her composure, Marina turned her face to the older man and gently pulled on his hand, that she was still holding, to command his attention. The idea that recently arrived in her mind had the potential to prove amusing for both of them. "I cannot recall how it feels to have a body, so I cannot easily explain how it feels to have none. Yet rejoice, for there is a remedy to that." After finding eye contact, the spectre winked mischievously, pulling Zeran by the arm into a side alley, much like the one where they previously met. The music and voices grew dull, screened off by the buildings. But they were not the first users of this shortcut on this night. Right there in the alley, three incredibly drunk people lay sleeping in a pile, practically on top of eachother. It was two men and one woman, all dressed in colorful holiday outfits, still holding onto eachothers' shoulders in their prone positions. Presumably, they felt that they've had enough for one night and were on their way home, supporting eachother. But then, one of the could stand no more and involuntarily pulled the other two down on the ground as well. Since the other two were probably in a no better state of soberity, all three of them decided that getting up was a futile effort, and retired for the night right where they fell. Letting out a soft giggle at the scene, Marina pulled her companion further into the alley. They finally found privacy between a wall and a tall fence, in a deep part of the quarter, where nearly no light or sound could reach. Marina finally let go of Zeran's hand and de-Materialised. The surrounding darkness permeated her, seeping into her form and washing out color and substance. In a moment, only a barely visible, sizzling silhouette was left, with two dim purple eyes staring directly at the cloaked man. "The city wardens cannot disturb us here." In a playful, but somewhat ominous tone, Marina began to explain her actions. "Impressing upon you how it feels to be a ghost is beyond my powers. But if you wish to experience how it feels to be one with a ghost, that, I can provide."

[Zeran]

Ghosts can learn just fine. Everyone had the chance of learning something new everyday, so Marina's was a fair question. Why couldn't they? And if she was still furthering her skills in magecraft, then that supported her claim and made perfect sense. Rumours were nasty things, especially when they were designed to slander a race. No doubt ghost hunters started this one up to discourage anyone from thinking they would have unlimited time to gain ultimate power. Zeran shrugged at the prospect. It wasn't fair it say such mean things about ghosts, but an ancient, all-powerful, ghostly wizard sounded a lot worse. Perhaps it's for the best... The careful reply Marina managed might have answered Zeran's initial question, but also created others. Incomplete in what way? Their physical existence, or life goals? Souls chose to return to Mizahar, rather than face Lhex's unpredictable nature, because they felt there were things they had left too incomplete to leave. That was a universally accepted truth, as ghosts themselves gave the answer. There was something they had to finish, before they faced Lhex. She spoke confidently enough in her belief that it sounded based on experience, rather than speculation. Marina was sure he'd be able to choose unlife or reincarnation when the time came for him to make the decision. So what is Miss Marina's reason? A dull tug triggered whatever feeling he still had in his hand, pulling Zeran's sight back to the little girl. He hadn't realised his eyes had wandered. There was still no pain, just an uncomfortable stiffness in his muscles. A feeling similar to being submerged in free-running water, like the streams that flowed through the Misty Peaks. His own warmth found enough energy to fend off shivers. A 'remedy' to having no body sounded a bit far fetched, but the accompanying wink convinced him Marina had her own secrets that he'd generously be allowed to see. Almost tripping over his own feet, as they decided to jump into action only after Marina had pulled him forward, Zeran took big strides to catch her pace, allowing himself to be gracelessly dragged into another alley. Loud and sharp noises where replaced with slow and gentle breathing, originating from a trio of friends huddled on the floor together. Zeran heard a childish giggle from his guide as she led him further, floating over the group as he hurdled over. Before they turned the next corner, Zeran glanced over his corner, shouting loud enough to hopefully disturb the lot, "The Shinya don't appreciate sleeping outside the comfort of your own home!" If that didn't wake them, maybe someone else heard him and would investigate. If the Shinya were the ones to find them first, there would be a lot of apologising and promises to never do it again going. And then the ghost girl and cloaked man were gone. An area as quiet and devoid of activity such as this, Zeran wouldn't have considered possible in Lhavit, not with all the activity always going on. Then again, there were bound to be spots in any city where there were no other people about. If you could always see at least one person in a city, no matter where you were, it was probably crowded to the point where expansion was worth considering. Enclosing his cold hand in the other, Zeran watched as Marina's details became sharper, instead of fuzzy, along with the details of the landscape through her. Feeling returned to his hand in slightly less time than it did for her form to retreat partially into the background, becoming to only source of light in their immediate surroundings. "Do ghosts glow because they're afraid of the dark?" he found himself asking casually, thoughts just dropping from his mouth. Even as transparency took enough hold of Marina's details to be barely distinguishable from everything else, two purple eyes, drifting prominently in the air, watched him. The playfulness in her voice, along with winks and giggles as she dragged him, finally made her appear to be the child she looked like, despite her speaking mannerisms, minute changes in her expressions, and her belief that made him chuckle. "You'd be surprised where the Shinya have their eyes, Miss Marina." Talk of becoming one with a ghost reminded him of a similar process, the Overbody that master Projectionists used, where the astral and physical body became one entity. Was Miss Marina speaking of a similar process? Ghosts were similar enough to astral bodies. The difference here would be two astral bodies, and two minds, to one physical body. Would that change things much? The icy blues poured from her again, Zeran saying nothing, as he matched the stares of the two purple eyes in front, looking as though he was deep in thought. Marina had said she couldn't remember what having a body felt like, and offered Zeran the choice. She was lying, having ulterior motives to make him willingly accept her; being honest, playfulness being genuine and not wanting to do anything she wasn't allowed; or wasn't too sure herself, needing permission before she was able to do anything. The streams of aura, lazily floating to the ground, carried no strong sense of malice with them. It didn't mean there wasn't any, just that he couldn't find it, and it wasn't likely to be fatal. It was possible she was just playing, as her, slightly questionable, tone suggested, and kids were less likely to break things they had fun with. What do I care? I want to know! Throwing all caution off the peaks, letting the colours disappear from flowing blue vanish from the world, Zeran bluntly answered, "Alright." He gave her a unsettling grin. "You're not going to hurt me, are you Miss Marina?" A little insurance suggestion never hurt him, spreading his arms outwards, opening himself up. "Jump in then."

[Marina Agamand]

Ever since noticing his eagerness to find out more about her, Marina was musing about how to use it. People controlled by curiosity, such as Zeran, often made excellent playmates, something that the little girl's spectre certainly didn't have enough of, and something she gravitated towards. Regarding the choice of game, tonight's festive environment in Lhavit offered an opportunity for her favorite game of all. Receiving his permission made her excited. Not paying much attention to the unfamiliar feeling that his last words carried with them, the ghost drew closer and closer to the cloaked man. She tried to smile reassuringly, but no matter what expression she made, her transluscent face and burning eyes would look creepy anyway. "Of course, dear sir, you will not come to harm. It is not my intention at all." What she said was plain truth. When it came to games, she held herself to a high ethical standard. Her games were, for the most part, rather nonviolent, taking into account both the host and their surroundings. Those innocent intentions sometimes brought with them involuntary and unexpected collateral damage, but that was not something Marina held herself responsible for. When she was around a meter away from him, the apparition suddenly burst forward, letting out a brief flash of pale light as she crashed into the cloaked figure. Struck by a sudden force, "Zeran" stumbled backwards, but kept his footing by supporting himself on the fence behind him. Marina felt it. Immensely. On this rare occasion, she could finally feel what it felt like to be alive. It felt like rising out of water after having stayed submerged for an eternity. And Zeran was one of the few who could bestow this luxury on her. This was the ultimate act of intimacy, a bond that not even lovers could share. Steadying his footing, "Zeran" looked around in a daze, as if rudely awoken from a good night's sleep. The fence he was leaning on was hard. He pressed his palm against the rough and scratchy stone, watching it with a dreamy look on his face. A low, reverberating voice echoed inside his head, thick and slow, as if intoxicated. Well then... please enjoy tonight with me, sir Zeran. Removing his hand from the wall and retreating it under his cloak, "Zeran" suddenly burst into a spring back along the alley. While his gait was dangerously unsteady, he didn't slow down, pressing each step against the flagstones with more force than necessary. His mouth twisted into a gleeful smirk as he heard the snaps of his cloak colliding with the air with each stride. He quickly scaled the distance back to the streets, taking extra effort to leap of the three sleeping friends rather than walking around them. Without pausing, "Zeran" approached a young woman who was standing at a nearby food stall and chatting with her friends. Falling on one knee in front of her, "Zeran" stretched out his hands to her, putting an exaggeratedly pained expression on his face. In that position, he recited a random line from an old Syliran play that has gone out of fashion more than fifty years ago. "O, fair lady, why dost thou gaze with scorn at thy champion? The battles I fought, the glory I wrought, are they not enough to make thee smile?" Utterly confused, the woman instinctively furrowed her brows and tried to remember if she has actually seen this man somewhere. Meanwhile, "Zeran" stuck into her friend's hands a half-full wine cup of unclear origin. "Rejoice, and drink! The gift of Sivah upon thee I bequeath!" Before any of the women could muster a reaction, the whimsical Syliran knight was already half way down the street, enganging in an similarly one-sided and wildly animated conversation with someone else. After having taken the streets of Lhavit with a storm, "Zeran" finally came to a stop, finding himself in yet another alley, though now in a completely different part of the city. There was the issue of explaining his earlier behavior to anyone he knew who might have seen him in that state. As if sensing this thought emerging in his muddled mind, the voice from earlier came to "Zeran"'s rescue. Sir Zeran, should anyone quiz you about tonight, refer to liquor. Ah, correct. For a human, there were very few actions that could not be made excusable by a pint of booze. A short silence followed. Beads of sweat covered "Zeran's" body, and his limbs shook with fatigue. Ever so slowly, the flickering figure of a young girl separated from him, leaving behind a lucid trail of djed that connected them briefly before dissipating. The spectre's shape was even more fuzzy and faint than normal, with her Soulmist pushed to its limit. Only her dim eyes remained prominent, emanating a feeling of dreamy satisfaction.

[Zeran]

The moonlight seemed to flicker as he fell back against the fence, as if he had been clinging to conciousness, and only partially succeeded. His feet reacted instinctively to the blow that had struck his chest, keeping himself upright with support from the fence behind him, though they felt weak, as if they were only barely carrying him and some other force stopped him from collapsing. His sight felt tunnelled, losing parts of his peripheral vision, observing the world through his eyes instead of with his eyes. Looking around, still grasping at conciousness, Zeran couldn't find Marina anywhere and had an unexplainable, refreshing feeling sweeping through his body. It was an odd sensation, feeling refreshed and lethargic at once. He pushed away from the fence, catching himself against the wall in front. Where have you gone now, Miss Marina? It didn't seem right that she would vanish after getting permission, and even a little push of hypnotism, from something she had suggested. Cold feet, perhaps? Besides her sudden departure, something else didn't feel right. I can't feel my lips. As one hand was still securing itself against the wall, Zeran lifted his other to his lips, only to find that it failed to listen to his command. Despite his lips not speaking his words, his arm refusing his commands, his head so uncaring it didn't want to find out what was wrong, and his body just not listening to anything he wanted it to do, Zeran remained surprisingly calm for someone in such a position. He didn't struggle with erratic movements, he used small movements similar to testing how much a body part hurt. Or had tried to. A voice accompanied his own within his head. Unlike hypnotism, this voice was clearly foreign, as it was nothing similar to his own. Taking any familiarities found with the words in, especially the still-flattering use of 'Sir' and disappearance of the little ghost, Zeran figured it was Marina keeping true to her words and sharing occupancy of his body now. Lead the way then. His movements had speed, but relatively little control. The other force he felt keeping him on his feet were like strings. He was no expert in running, but even Zeran knew the way Marina ran in his body was wrong. He felt constantly unsteady in his movements, reminiscent of his days futilely trying to walk on the deck of a boat, and each step fell against the ground flat and hard, sending shocks through his legs. They were beginning to ache rather quickly. He was a puppet. Marina being the one in control. She had enough skill to move his body in the way she wanted, but lacked the proficiency of finer control that would keep a body in fit use for longer lengths of time. Zeran wanted to bring his hands up as Marina leapt over the still-sleeping trio. The landing had been shaky, but his arms just twitched at the response this time and Marina didn't fall over anyhow. Marina didn't waste any time with her games, quickly finding a new friend and dropping his body to a knee, speaking in a language that sounded like common in some places and only she knew what in the others. Remember when I mentioned how you spoke Little Miss? This is what I was talking about. You've got me speaking in tongues and I only understand something about a battle-happy champion. Champion of who? Marina was too caught up in her acting skills to pay much attention to Zeran's questions, feeling himself grab a glass from objecting hands and shoving it into another's unexpecting hands. I've resorted to stealing drinks now? What's in that glass anyway? Marina spoke a few more unrecognisable words, involving some kind of blessing in contrast to killer she spoke of before, and moving on to the next awaiting group of people. Zeran was somewhat thankful she had done so quickly enough to not be confronted by the unfortunate patron who would now have to explain the drink he stole was theirs. Each new conversation Marina held was different from the last, making the most of the time she spent with a solid form and a willing host. Zeran sat back, letting her enjoy herself, occasionally laughing at her mannerisms that conflicted with his appearance and how her conversation partners reacted to it. They interacted with all sorts of different people. Drunks, musicians, dancers and everyone in between. Zeran wandered what some Aurists might see if they looked at a body with two souls inhabiting it, and wandered even more about what they would think. A master messing with his own aura? A person with an aura massively complex? Or would they be able to distinguish a ghost taking a body for a walk? The music and sounds grew distant once again, as Marina steered his body into another alley. For someone with such a dislike of 'unsavoury environments', you make sure we always end up in one Miss Marina. They're not the only places devoid of life at these times of night. Try any local business. Most people are out partying, even the owners. Muscles burned with fires, aches and soreness he hadn't experienced since his last sparring session with the akalaks of Riverfall. Sweat took its place over him and his body still managed to find enough energy to shake, letting him know he was out of energy. He'd been right when he had said to Marina when they first met that old things were more fun when seen with someone new. Why would I need to 'refer to liquor'? I act like that sober, except for speaking in tongues... I'll speak in Tukant next time. That'll confuse a lot of people. As gently as he would detach his astral body, Marina left his physical body, seeing the stings of djed connecting her to him disappear before his knees gave out underneath his weight, falling through Marina for the second time tonight. A small cloud of dust enveloped him as he hit the floor. It felt relieving to just lie down feeling the way he did. "That wasn't really 'becoming one', Little Miss. That was more 'overriding me completely'. Though I noticed I could regain some control if I really wanted to. How use to this are you?" Zeran's cheek rubbed against the gravel on the ground, not nearly as uncomfortable as he felt after that possessing though. He never thought he'd miss having control of his lips. It proved to be a bad idea trying to blow any dust and dirt away from his mouth as he spoke. It only kicked up another cloud that circled around his nose and mouth, making it more difficult to speak or breath without having to force invading objects out of his face. Clawing at the ground, searching for whatever purchase the flagstones beneath him offered, Zeran haphazardly pushed with any available muscle that was willing and rolled himself on his back. It had become a task to locate Marina's actual form now. His only hints to her whereabouts were the two floating, purple eyes that flickered above him. She had become so faint that you would have to know she was there before you could see her, if you didn't somehow notice the purple spots hovering in the air. "What's happened to you now? You're not a mobile night light anymore." The aches were becoming a nuisance. Did Marina feel how much his body ached? Or was she just pulling strings? One might explain why she left his body as it got unbearable to stand, the other would explain how she let his body get into such a state. Djed pushed his arms free of his body, similar to how Marina had left it. It didn't offer much relief from the dull pain that gripped him, but to have lost the feeling in his arms was at least something he was thankful for. Doing the same with his legs was pointless. It would reduce the time he could keep his astral body outside of his physical, and he'd lose any ability he had left to stand. As he stared up at Marina, finding and wearing his own smile once more, he crossed astral arms across his chest. "I found that quite amusing. Thanks for the experience Miss Marina. How'd you find it?" He preferred the numbing chill of Marina's touch over the burning she had left him with now. At least the cold air emanating from her hadn't diminished along with the amount of light she produced.

[Marina Agamand]

Oblivious to Zeran's exhausted state, the wraith lost herself in a short daydream, remembering the feeling of wearing a body. Even when possessing someone, she was unable to use any of a body's senses.The cool breeze and coarse fabric brushing against skin, the many lush smells of the night festival, the alcohol sliding against the back of his throat - all of these luxuries were unattainable by the ghost, even with the flesh of a living being as a medium. Despite this, taking the reins of a body intoxicated Marina, as if she had attained some immense and inexplicable power that would be enough to rock the whole world. Having been out of Zeran for only several moments, she was already begin to miss the drug-like sensation, feeling as though she had lost something valuable. Without moving any limbs, Marina rotated in the air to face her companion, her eyes regaining a bit of focus. Yet, her image showed no signs of regaining substance; it appeared as if seen through the waters of a murky pond - rippling and diffuse. Her twisting form was uncomfortable to look at, reminding of a reflection in a finely cracked mirror. It was apparent that possessing people was not something she did on a daily basis. Her garbled visage indicated that the ordeal has made her expend a notable amount of soulmist, one that would take a while to recover. The ghost cast a long, ponderous gaze at the nighttime adventurer sprawled on the ground before her. Silence wrapped them like a soft blanket, comfortable after the ceaseless cacophony of the festival; punctuated only by Zeran's breaths. Looking at his prone form,her dim orbs sought eye contact as the young man was getting accustomed with his own body again. A barely audible voice reached his ears, seemingly coming not from Marina, but erratically changing its source to random places around the alley, or even to somewhere around the corner. "If you need to make no excuses even after being possessed, you are a truly interesting man." Her tone was slightly mocking, almost as if she called him crazy. It was normal for her to flee the scene immediately after leaving a host. Since she was everything but subtle when during possession, all of the local spiritists and ghost hunters would be hot on her trail by that point. If Zeran could behave like a haunted maniac without even surprising those around him, it could only mean that he was always a haunted maniac. The thought amused Marina greatly, and made the cloaked man a desirable target for her adventure sessions, since she wouldn't need to skip town afterwards. "As for unsavory environments... somehow, sharing your company in such puts me at ease. " The spectre let out a weak burst of laughter, filling the alley with echoing resonance. When the sounds died down, she continued, now with a slight tingle of sadness in her voice. "It is indeed rare for me to find an eager playmate such as you, be it adult or child. Mortals treasure their bodies. It is hard to make them lease the most valuable object they own. Your faith is flattering." The last words came out somewhat fake, as she was suspicious of why a stranger would give up their body to a ghost without any sort of insurance. She didn't know how exactly Zeran ensured his own safety, but she knew there was something he wasn't telling her. Since she understood that it was something she was probably not entitled to know anyway, she didn't let it bother her much, and moved on to highlight her enjoyment of the evening. "I was entertained tonight. I am glad you share the sentiment, sir Zeran." Her tone of voice was content, and not in the least apologetic for the strain she had inflicted on his body, either because she didn't realise it, or simply because she didn't feel sorry. Even without looking down at her own faded figure, Marina understood that her appearance represented her weakened state. "Moving heavy flesh is not without cost for an immaterial being, yet it was energy well spent." Somewhat confused by Zeran's horisontal position, Marina decided to assume a fitting angle. Still without moving a limb, her image began to twirl sideways, as if her body was a paper doll pinned to something by its middle. Eventually, she was completely upside-down, with her head nearly touching the ground. Defiance of gravity was the only thing keeping her knee-long skirt and hair from flowing in all the wrong directions. She would probably look rather comical if she at least remotely resembled a real person, but in her distorted, semi-monstrous state, it only made her look more creepy. With her face mere centimeters away from his, she locked gazes with her new friend and raised an eyebrow quizzically, voicing the question that bothered her. "Do you find the ground comfortable?" As her mind slowly began to clear from the drunken state of post-possession, she suddenly remembered something important. "Sir Zeran, you mentioned that you are acquainted with a magesmith here in this principality. I would be in your debt if you could introduce me to this person." Besides being a playmate, this outwardly goofy young man could prove to be a valuable connection. The phantom wanted to ask him to guide her there right now, but quickly pushed away her impatience. After all, her faded appearance was not quite presentable, and Zeran didn't look like he was ready to spring up and run anywhere, plastered over the dusty stone ground as he was. "At your own convenience, of course", she added timidly.

[Zeran]

"I'll take that as a compliment from you, as I would imagine you'd be rather glad at that bit of information." Any offence meant to have been received went clean over Zeran's head. It had been a ride. A chance to experience something new. He wasn't about to let anything ruin it, even as the aches remained, only dwindling when he tried not to focus on the pains too much. Zeran squirmed on the floor intermittently. The areas that burned most seemed to be alive, moving underneath his skin whenever he had just found a position comfortable enough to withstand it, restarting the whole procedure of finding a new position to lay in. He continued to writhe as she moved and spoke over him, paying attention to the pieces he could hear over the scraping of the gravel underneath him. She had really done a number on him. But what had she done that caused him to feel what he did? Run? Talk? It must've been his fault. His body wasn't use to holding two souls and it must've stretched his body passed its limits. Like stretching leather so much that it tears. He wanted to see what a person's aura was like whilst being possessed. Did one aura override the other? Did the two mix perfectly? Or could you see traces of both through the other? "Faith had nothing to do with it, Miss Marina." The strain in his stomach, as he attempted to pull himself in to a sitting position without the use of his arms, almost killed him. Zeran flopped back to the ground, relenting to the pain, raising another dust cloud. He watched as his own cloud mixed with the remnants of Marina's cloudy form. "You wanted to experience the feel of a solid body again, and I was willing to give you that. I took a guess saying you weren't about to break the only willing 'playmate' around you and lose the chance to do it again. Besides, your aura showed no malice. I found a ghost is a lot easier to read as their is no body to block their aura. That, and a little hypnotism never hurt anyone." He paused to think for a second. "Well, not unless I wanted it to." "We both got what we wanted from that little escapade of yours." He rolled in the dirt, arms flopping with the movements, from one side to the other, stretching any muscle he could. Onto his left, arch his back and stretch his legs, onto his right and repeat. Didn't professional masseurs use rocks in their line of work? How hard could it be to use the rocks beneath him in the same way? If he got a rhythm going, perhaps he could give himself something similar to a massage and ease the pains from his muscles. I am not getting my own massage business any time soon. He hadn't noticed Marina was so close to his face until she spoke again. Even up close, she didn't look any clearer in his face than she did hovering above him. The glow from her eyes did well to cover any expressions she threw his way, but not quite completely. "Not in the slightest," he complained. "Rocks don't seem to help with massages at all! I don't see what all the fuss is about having some stranger arrange his rock collection on a naked person on a table. I'm not a garden. I don't need to be decorated!" Rant over, Zeran unconsciously placed his projected arms one Marina's shoulders - that's where he was aiming for amongst the mess of mist - and pushed her upwards out the way. It didn't register that he had interacted with the ghost girl as if she were solid, as he fought the pain in his stomach again, successfully pulling himself upwards this time. His legs wobbled in protest as he was determined to make them work, finding it much harder to balance without the use of his arms. Zeran fell to his knees a few times in his attempts, but conquered his disapproving muscles eventually. "I'm up!" he announced, as if achieving something he had been working on a lot longer than a chime or two. Nobody was going to take this victory away from him as he slowly turned back to Marina. "I'd be happy to introduce you to Alses! Though I'll have to get a hold of her first... I don't even know what her Earthbound form looks like. I've only seen her in the day as a Synaborn." One more mystery to solve. What did Alses look like at night, when she wasn't an Ethaefal? "I think we'll have to wait for Syna's light to reach us at the earliest," he told her. "I don't know when I'll be able to get a hold of her, considering she works for one of the Towers. Even if I could find her tonight, I wouldn't recognise her." Zeran only just managed to get the end of his sentence out before a knee buckled again, throwing him to the floor again on his side. "Damn it!" Just one more complication. "Though, perhaps it would be better if I could learn to walk again first. The Shinya are wary of me at the best of times. Trailing through the streets will probably give them enough reason to think I've tipped completely." He used his legs to push himself along the floor, emphasising the point he was trying to make as his arms followed at his sides. His projected arms searched the air futilely for something to grab hold of. Something to support himself on. He found nothing, until one hand came to rest against Marina again. He stopped his time, looking up at her with his face still pressed against the floor. She was solid. He could feel her as if she were human, the fabric of her clothes, both as if they were mortal beings. "How can I feel you if you haven't solidified yourself?"

[Marina Agamand]

Even after being flatly told that she'd been hypnotised, Marina didn't get angry. On the contrary, she felt the need to compliment him for doing it so smoothly. She barely even suspected that something was wrong, and if he hadn't said it straight out, she would never have been the wiser. "Oh, so you are both a hypnotist and an aurist. You possess a commendable range of talents. Yet, having faith is a talent as well." Seeing Zeran writhing on the ground in an attempt to give himself an improvised massage almost made the ghost laugh. But by now, she understood that this man was completely serious about the silly things he did. With the right ideas implanted in their heads, such crazies were the ones who moved mountains, and moving mountains was not outside of Marina's agenda, be it proverbially or literally. Still, as he pitifully rolled around on the ground, the spectre realised that her inattention to her host's condition during the overly energetic possession tour could be the cause of some long-term injuries. It didn't take to do anything violent or overly physical; any careless motion was enough to dislocate joints or rip muscles, and the ghost wouldn't even have noticed how the fragile body she wore was being maimed. Thankfully, her playmate escaped with only temporary soreness this time. Marina could never bring herself to hold back, which is why she usually had to change her playmates like socks. Wanting to amend her rude handling of his flesh at least somewhat, she decided to offer him a massage. While she wasn't a masseuse in any sense of the word, her touch would be more pleasant than that of the stones Zeran was grinding against right now. Maybe. Before the garbled cloud of soulmist that called herself a magesmith could vocalise the proposal, she suddenly felt an inexplicable force pushing against her. The feeling was truly alien and unlike anything she experienced before; it had nothing in common with the touch of a spiritist nor the soulmist of another ghost. It was firm yet not coarse, and somehow... warm? The wraith didn't get the opportunity to savor the sensation for very long, before she found herself unceremoneously shoved away from Zeran, who finally achieved vertical status and was evidently too busy basking in his triumph to notice the amazing thing that just happened. Still stunned, Marina couldn't react for a while. The warmth in that astral touch was so faint and insignificant that a living being wouldn't even notice it. But to an ethereal creature, so starved for human warmth, it was a baffling sensation. She wanted to grab those invisible hands again, and hold them until she could drain every drop of the life-giving heat from them, no matter how little of it they contained. Marina had only the vaguest understanding of projection, but even the simplest mind would recognise it in this situation by putting two and two together. The phantom was aware that the Shinya didn't approve of people littering the streets with their own bodies, no matter what their excuse may be. The three sleeping friends from earlier flashed in her mind, and Marina could guess that they were probably in trouble with the law by now. The alley around them was dark and almost completely silent, with virtually no foreign sounds reaching inside from the main road. Considering the unusual stillness, Lhavit had probably entered rest hours at some point while they were hanging out here. That a Shinya would suddenly appear to apprehend the cloaked man for his public misbehavior was improbable, but not impossible. Had he been anyone else, he would have to solve the problem himself somehow, but since Zeran was Zeran, luck smiled on him again today. Feeling the touch of her new playmate's projected hand again, she grabbed the invisible appendage with both of her hands and squeezed it gently in experiment. The force containing that odd but unmistakeable warmth pushed against her hands. There was no doubt about it. She spoke to him slowly; her tone was sedate and calm, but contained the disturbing shadow of a growing obsession with a new toy. "Sir Zeran, we may not be so alien to eachother." Deciding that priority then laid in getting the mage home, the spectre slung the projected arm around her shounders, still gripping it tightly. She could now support Zeran using her "physical" strength, which by itself was quite laughable for obvious reasons. Normally, the boost of power that her soulmist could provide was not insignificant, but the ghost was weakened by that one recent undertaking. Still, the collective powers of Zeran, Marina, and any nearby solid objects should have proved sufficient to make the travel to a place where the brown-haired adventurer could get some well-deserved rest. Provided that was still the plan. "I will support you. Where do you wish to go?"

[Zeran]

He felt her hands, heard her words, and acknowledged the thought behind her action. Throwing another's arm over your shoulders held the same meaning to whoever was involved: I'll help you. The thought was nice, but was going to prove to be difficult. Even as she managed to muster any strength she had remaining to hoist him up by his astral arm, all it did was stretch with the movement. Marina might've had the strength to pull on the arm, but the arm didn't have the strength to haul Zeran's weight behind it. If they were going to go anywhere, he needed to put some effort in as well. The extra stability provided helped more than Zeran anticipated, providing purchase to accommodate for unwanted swaying, as he raised himself to his knees. Taking the process slowly, he didn't move immediately after his first victory, choosing to sit back on his haunches, feeling sore muscle complain as it stretched when it wanted to relax, not moving until he felt stable enough as he was with the support Miss Marina gave. Astral or physical, an arm is still an arm, Zeran thought as he gripped the wrist that rested on the girl's shoulder. Strength was traded for unimpeded reach when he used Projection, though he kept more strength as he trained his abilities, they were still arms and could therefore still lift. With the lack of strength his projected limbs held, and the weakened state of Marina herself, he needed to rely on his legs to do most of the work, only using the two ethereal entities as a means to stop himself wavering as he moved. He rocked on his haunches, feeling Marina struggle against the constant shifting in weight. Even if she wasn't a weakened ghost, she still had the body of a little girl, and that was what Zeran was holding onto at this moment. It would've been too easy to extend and retract his astral arms to rock and save Marina the hassle, but he needed them to be solid enough to provide leverage for him. He needed them to be something that would keep him up, rather than let him drop again. With enough momentum going, Zeran leaned into his rocking as he fell forward, swinging onto his feet and upwards, leaning into Marina as he rose for stability again. Despite her struggles, Marina managed to keep herself composed enough to get him on his feet. For that, he was thankful, but felt himself leaning too far forward. He instinctively gripped tighter on the ghost girl as his leg lurched forward to stop him slipping through her for another time tonight. He froze, keeping from disrupting any balance he may have acquired, he tightened his jaw in response to the pains in his leg from the sudden movement, but also enjoying the soothing cold still emanating from what was left of her, countering any aches that still fought for his attention. "Someone had a sense of humour when they decided ghosts would be cold to counteract aches in their possessed hosts." He shrugged as well as he could. "Maybe it was so novice Possessors could make friends? Many thanks for your help Little Miss." Where he wanted to go was a good question. The Sartu Peak and Lady Elena's estate wasn't exactly close, and he wasn't in the best of travelling conditions. The Surya Plaza, however, was a lot closer, as was the Zintia Rest that stood just inside its gates. He favoured the Rest over the Shooting Star Inn as he could get into both, whereas somebody else might only have access to the Inn to find he had taken the last bed. It seemed fair in his mind. Being free was a benefit, provided they'd take the symbol of the Lariat Estate as proof of employment. "I don't suppose you could drop me at the Zintia Rest, could you?" He was asking out of courtesy. Marina looked about as able to make the journey as Zeran felt he could. That was what happened when you indulge yourself on a whim. He wanted to be possessed, she possessed him, and now he ached everywhere and she was weak. The two were as much to blame for their predicament as the other. "If not, feel free to tell the nearest Shinya I've been beaten up and can't move. And that I hate the floor. It's not comfy. I have no desire to sleep in the streets. Make sure you make that clear to them please." Zeran managed to keep a good pace with his aches. They weren't nearly as bad as he thought them to be any more, but a little exaggeration never hurt from time to time. It let him do things when he felt he was ready, rather than when others thought he was ready. It meant good news for Marina, as he was able to take a considerable amount of weight off her for the moment. It also served as a good reminder to her then to take it easier next time with his body, unless she fancied going through all this again. There were very few people out, but Zeran didn't know how far into the rest period that actually was. It could've started recently, or could've already been half a bell into it. Sundials weren't overly effective when Leth walked through the skies, so there weren't very many means to check, and he didn't feel like taking a detour to find out what bell it was. The only apparent thing to him was that their path was clear and nothing was likely to slow him down. "So, what plans have you got after you've offloaded me then? Attempt to find another playmate? Pick an actual drunk. He won't remember any of it and is likely to collapse afterwards anyway. It's not like the drink is going to affect you anyway."

[Marina Agamand]

The odd pair walked the empty streets unsteadily. A tall, apparently rather drunk man supporting himself on a little girl; the scene would certainly look strange to any spectator. And only attentive spectators would be able to detect the cloaked party-goer's improvised crutch's resemblance to a person. At first glance, it was something that looked more like some form of magical anomaly undulating in the air. Despite the difficulty, the spectre could support the heavy male enough for awkward locomotion. As she wasn't materialised, she could focus her attention on her soulmist projection better, pressing an invisible force against Zeran's body in order to keep him from leaning his full weight on her. Weak and unsteady as that force was, it was a valuable asset. Without it, Zeran's projected arm would probably crush her narrow shoulders easily, and the spectre couldn't afford any more damage to her soulmist tonight. Marina concentrated intently to keep her form from dissolving into a formless cloud of blue mist, which would probably cause Zeran to tumble back to the ground. She was aware that she was underestimating his endurance, but the wraith was feeling the need to be protective of her playmate. The living in general, and humans in particular, were depressingly fragile; this was something the ghost had plentiful experience of, both observational and, looking back far enough, personal. The ease with which her toys broke from even a brief rough treatment was infuriating, and while holding back during her play sessions was out of the question, she decided it would be more productive to take better care of her playmates. Most of the people she met were disposable, but not all of them. "Fufufu... The cold is my primary social instrument." Twisting her arm as far as she could without losing hold on the man, the spectre attempted to tickle him. Her ethereal fingers phased easily through the fabric of his shirt, tracing the sensitive skin of his stomach briefly before withdrawing. The numbing chill that lingered after her touch would normally be unpleasant, but it served as a natural remedy for burning muscles, inflamed by the previous strain. It was rather curious. As could be expected, she didn't suffer fatigue, since she didn't have actual muscles that could become tired. For the same reason, it was strange that the strength she could apply to Zeran's astral appendage was as feeble as if a little girl's muscles were actually the source. The only explanation the ghost could come up with was that it was restricted by her djed, rather than any physical factor. A spoiled, ineffectual child would never be able to display feats of toughness using their body alone, be it made of flesh or soulmist. While somewhat inconvenient, it was not illogical. At the mention of the Shinya, Marina frowned slightly. By all means, she was a mostly law-abiding almost-citizen who wasn't usually up to no good. Well, maybe sometimes. Well... fine, maybe rather often. The phantom barely withheld a displeased snort. Objectively, she hasn't yet done anything unlawful, and had no grounds to fear the Shinya. However, she was used to being safe even when causing trouble, since there weren't many city guards who could lay a finger on her on short notice. Before a spiritist or otherwise spellcaster arrived at the scene, she would already have removed herself. In Lhavit, every patrolman was a potentially dangerous enemy. Earlier today, purely by accident, she happened to overhear on the streets that the Shinya were practicioners of projection, and it has bothered her ever since. She wasn't aware of this during her previous visits to the city of stars. With her sense of invincibility taken away, the ghost was uncomfortable, though she knew she would get used to it given time. Dumping Zeran on the guardsmen and calling it a day would be the most pragmatic choice, but Marina didn't want to come face to face with a Shinya right now, especially not while looking as awkward and suspicious as she did. Deciding that sharing these concerns with her companion would serve no purpose, Marina answered his statement with silence, gripping his astral arm just a little tighter to let him know her choice. Besides, she was enjoying the soft sensation of the projected limb resting against her shoulders, and the rare closeness with a human. Somewhat surprised by his suggestion, Marina looked up at Zeran haughtily. It did happen that she possessed people for the sake of it, but haunting drunkards was not her idea of fine entertainment. Possession was a different level of fun when the victim was in on it. "Why would you recommend such a thing, sir Zeran? Being my vessel is not a privilege I grant to knaves. I select the worthy only after much deliberation." She was just putting on airs; clearly enough, she didn't think twice before jumping into Zeran whom she met barely a bell prior. There was a reason for her saying that, however. She didn't state it out loud, but there were certain playmates she returned to again and again, forming a strange relationship. After all, being an anchorless throwaway could be a rather boring existence; the boredom was sometimes so overbearing that it didn't justify the freedom. Like many ghosts, Marina has developed a strong resistance to loneliness, but she valued the feeling of seeing a familiar face. Yes, that was just a fancy way of saying that she liked to relentlessly harass people. And Zeran was not going to be exempt. Having had no idea where the Zintia Rest was, the spectre simply followed her companion's lead through the dim and silent streets. It was hard to imagine that these same streets were home to the borderline hysterical pace of the festival just a bell ago. Obviously, it was only a temporary pause, but the ghost took her time to enjoy the contrast in atmosphere, whenever she wasn't dedicating her full attention to keeping her already smudged body from being squashed into an amorphous blob of soulmist under Zeran's weight. Finally, they stopped in front of a large public building that the phantom assumed to be their destination. She didn't have any particular places to be, and since she barely knew anyone in Lhavit, nothing came to mind when she thought about where to spend the quiet resting hours, or whatever was left of them by this point. "I will join you inside, if permitted. Otherwise, if you ever wish to meet again, you know where I can be encountered."