SEVEN ‹

[ghostlighter]

[Enter the Griever! As always, the blond hair, glowing red eyes and echo-y voice pretty much guarantee you won't recognize him as Chris. He appears with some momentum, and smacks into the wall of the ballroom. A hand is at his side, where some green blood seeps slowly through his fingers. He looks pretty incredulous.]

Who actually gives a little girl a sniper—?! [Realization dawns!] ...rifle. [He knocks his head back against the wall. Guess who just discovered his merge with Henrietta?] You've got to be kidding.

Comments

[ghostlighter]

[Blink. Glances over...]

Does it?

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

Er...never mind.

What'd you do to piss her off?

[ghostlighter]

[Inward sigh of relief!]

Just showed up. [Quirk of a brow.] ... Nice wings, by the way.

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[Ngh] Yeah, thanks.

So what are you, a ghost or something?

[ghostlighter]

[faint amusement!] What else would I be?

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

Good point. It's just that you don't feel quite like any of the spirits I've met before, is all.

[ghostlighter]

I don't? [>->]

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

Not exactly. You—

[pauses; telling someone "You feel like someone I know" sounds so wrong in his head]

Well, anyway. Everything all right?

[ghostlighter]

[... phew. Yay, change of subject! The Griever just gives him a bit of a look.] I've been shot.

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

And you're bleeding. I don't recall spirits being able to bleed.

[ghostlighter]

Ghosts and spirits aren't exactly the same thing.