18th of Spring, 522
Alice did not know how, why, or when she found herself at the edge of the Outpost walking along the west wall with the false mass of materialization. But she couldn’t say she didn’t make an entirely unpleasant discovery. As she drifted down the twilight streets of the Outpost she heard the banging of drums and the pounding of feet on the ground. As she wasn’t in Cavan at this very moment she more saw than smelled the smoke that permeated the air around the door to a club. Above it hung a plaque that labeled it proudly as something called the “Aftermath.”
She was in the process of drifting by when the door slammed open as drunkards and visibly high people stumbled out into the street and clung to the walls as they emptied their stomachs, not noticing the ghost they just shattered with the hastily opened door.
Alice was already pulling herself back together with a frown as she watched the people lay groaning on the cobbles of the Outpost. One of their compatriots was tripping over his own feet as he tipped and swayed into an alley, slumping down the wall out of sight.
The ghost blinked behind him in an instant more to make sure he was breathing than anything else as she watched him breathe deeply against the wall, ass to the sky, and face into the bottom of the wall. His hands splayed in odd geometric shapes as they were forced to bend in strange ways.
She easily flipped her gravity to have her feet towards the sky as she hovered over the man, looking down on his now very unconscious and drugged form if the wild dilation and ragged pupils were anything to go by. She also couldn’t help but notice that the man was quite attractive. If he was to stand up he would have been a five-foot-eight effeminate man with a narrow waist, a thick poof of black hair, and lovely lashes that displayed that drugged outlook in his rich brown eyes.
From the look of his body weight, it was no wonder he was out here on the ground, the guy had little mass to him, and not for a lack of trying on his part, with his arms displaying the signs of someone who made an attempt to work out.
Alice felt something whisper in her ear as an opportunity presented itself. The guy wouldn’t miss a few hours of his life, would he? And the spirit was quite interested in what was going on inside the club…
Alice made her choice.
In a quick puff of soulmist in the alleyway, she blinked into the man who did not give a slight reaction to the possession. She was expecting some type of resistance but she got none as she slipped on his soul and nearly fell out the other side at the complete lack of anything.
She flexed the man's fingers and cracked his neck as she stood him up, not wobbling anymore as she wasn’t under the sway of the drugs surging through his body. She took a few minutes to stretch and settle her soul more firmly into his astral body, bending this way and that as well as tugging on the man’s pupils to get them to settle down a tad bit.
During their manipulations of the body they tugged down the white shirt with puffy sleeves that were buttoned at the man's wrists, rebuckled an undone belt, she'd rather not think of who unbelted it and shoved their soft black pants into their knee-high boots. It was a plain if clean look the man was going with but it worked with his smaller size.
“Alright. The cat caught the clever cawing crow.” She ran through a quick tongue twister as she savored the man's voice, feeling the way it reverberated through her soulmist with it being a few octaves lower than hers but high than some of the more gruff men she had met.
“Ok so…My name is Flinn Yuey. I’m a merchant's son who is here to get laid, party hard, and make friends for the night. But then I have to leave before the sun rises as my Father might get suspicious of my absence. I’m twenty, have unnatural hate for spinach, love seafood, and my favorite color is…err green.” The ghost grinned at her own antics as she felt the man’s soul fall even further into its drug haze, rationalizing the possession as some sort of bad trip.
Without further pomp, Alice piloted the newly minted Flinn into the Aftermath, instantly being swept into the massive crowd of dancers in a large stone hall with wide arched ceilings, the numbers were banging their hearts out to fill the room with sound as torches flickered and danced to another unseen song. Off by the bar, there were periodic bursts of flame and cheering from the folks around it as some fancy drink was severed.
Alice felt a grin creep onto their borrowed face as their excitement began to mix with the character they created. The sounds and sights were plenty of stimulation for the typically sensory-deprived ghost as she swept through the crowd. Not only was it a fun place to be but it was also an amazing place to run wild with her abilities.
She shifted up to the first person that caught her attention, be it a man or woman, and slipped djed into her voice. The flow of her soul delved into the man's inner pool as her dead djed steered the living djed up and through his throat. The energy caressed his vocal cords as will and sound meshed together. Her will imposed a deeper and richer meaning onto the words than mundane speech could provide as they spilled from her mouth. The magic twirling and twisting through the air, crawling along her target's sphere of influence seeking access to the mind underneath.
“Hey!” They called over the sound of music using a hand to move strands of hair out of their eyes, “You are pretty cute! Wanna dance with me?” they suggested with a large smile.
She was in the process of drifting by when the door slammed open as drunkards and visibly high people stumbled out into the street and clung to the walls as they emptied their stomachs, not noticing the ghost they just shattered with the hastily opened door.
Alice was already pulling herself back together with a frown as she watched the people lay groaning on the cobbles of the Outpost. One of their compatriots was tripping over his own feet as he tipped and swayed into an alley, slumping down the wall out of sight.
The ghost blinked behind him in an instant more to make sure he was breathing than anything else as she watched him breathe deeply against the wall, ass to the sky, and face into the bottom of the wall. His hands splayed in odd geometric shapes as they were forced to bend in strange ways.
She easily flipped her gravity to have her feet towards the sky as she hovered over the man, looking down on his now very unconscious and drugged form if the wild dilation and ragged pupils were anything to go by. She also couldn’t help but notice that the man was quite attractive. If he was to stand up he would have been a five-foot-eight effeminate man with a narrow waist, a thick poof of black hair, and lovely lashes that displayed that drugged outlook in his rich brown eyes.
From the look of his body weight, it was no wonder he was out here on the ground, the guy had little mass to him, and not for a lack of trying on his part, with his arms displaying the signs of someone who made an attempt to work out.
Alice felt something whisper in her ear as an opportunity presented itself. The guy wouldn’t miss a few hours of his life, would he? And the spirit was quite interested in what was going on inside the club…
Alice made her choice.
In a quick puff of soulmist in the alleyway, she blinked into the man who did not give a slight reaction to the possession. She was expecting some type of resistance but she got none as she slipped on his soul and nearly fell out the other side at the complete lack of anything.
She flexed the man's fingers and cracked his neck as she stood him up, not wobbling anymore as she wasn’t under the sway of the drugs surging through his body. She took a few minutes to stretch and settle her soul more firmly into his astral body, bending this way and that as well as tugging on the man’s pupils to get them to settle down a tad bit.
During their manipulations of the body they tugged down the white shirt with puffy sleeves that were buttoned at the man's wrists, rebuckled an undone belt, she'd rather not think of who unbelted it and shoved their soft black pants into their knee-high boots. It was a plain if clean look the man was going with but it worked with his smaller size.
“Alright. The cat caught the clever cawing crow.” She ran through a quick tongue twister as she savored the man's voice, feeling the way it reverberated through her soulmist with it being a few octaves lower than hers but high than some of the more gruff men she had met.
“Ok so…My name is Flinn Yuey. I’m a merchant's son who is here to get laid, party hard, and make friends for the night. But then I have to leave before the sun rises as my Father might get suspicious of my absence. I’m twenty, have unnatural hate for spinach, love seafood, and my favorite color is…err green.” The ghost grinned at her own antics as she felt the man’s soul fall even further into its drug haze, rationalizing the possession as some sort of bad trip.
Without further pomp, Alice piloted the newly minted Flinn into the Aftermath, instantly being swept into the massive crowd of dancers in a large stone hall with wide arched ceilings, the numbers were banging their hearts out to fill the room with sound as torches flickered and danced to another unseen song. Off by the bar, there were periodic bursts of flame and cheering from the folks around it as some fancy drink was severed.
Alice felt a grin creep onto their borrowed face as their excitement began to mix with the character they created. The sounds and sights were plenty of stimulation for the typically sensory-deprived ghost as she swept through the crowd. Not only was it a fun place to be but it was also an amazing place to run wild with her abilities.
She shifted up to the first person that caught her attention, be it a man or woman, and slipped djed into her voice. The flow of her soul delved into the man's inner pool as her dead djed steered the living djed up and through his throat. The energy caressed his vocal cords as will and sound meshed together. Her will imposed a deeper and richer meaning onto the words than mundane speech could provide as they spilled from her mouth. The magic twirling and twisting through the air, crawling along her target's sphere of influence seeking access to the mind underneath.
“Hey!” They called over the sound of music using a hand to move strands of hair out of their eyes, “You are pretty cute! Wanna dance with me?” they suggested with a large smile.
