realityshifted | [ mirrors ]

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tales of the abyss (d2) asch

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[Something is off about the kitchen today. It's a mess. There are bits of broken glass and pans and food strewn about wildly. Occasionally, the things on the counter seem to fall of their own accord.

There is an invisible teenager throwing a tantrum. That or having a food fight with the ghosts of his mind's making.]

Shut up! Just shut up already!

[Asch yanks another plate down and hurls it at something behind him. Of course, it doesn't go very far. Despite taking a dinner plate to the head, the image of Asch's replica continues to frown at him.

He growls, furious. As he reaches for more ammunition, his hand goes through the cupboard and out the other side. He stares at his arm for a minute, then lowers it.]

I know exactly what I did.

[ooc: Experiment start! ♥ Actually, it started a few days ago, so this is-- uh, taking place after Luke arrives. Yup.

Feel free to remark on things moving, or if your character can see/hear dead people, that's cool too.]

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[Not what Guy expected, walking into the kitchen. Not that he can hear or see Asch, but the mess? Very apparent. And with no one in sight to blame. With a sigh, he hunts up a broom to start sweeping up the mess. There's no way he can leave that there for people to walk on.]

[Another plate shatters when his back is turned and he actually jumps, turning around--but there's no one there.]

[Maybe it was balanced and just fell.]

[Wait, one of those ghosts is trying to sweep things up. Maybe he /isn't/ a dead Guy. Asch stands in front of him.]

Guy.

Guy.

[... No response. It's just like back then. Nothing separated Asch from his family except a few yards of grass and a child's wailing.

Asch needs to breach that distance, right now. He reaches out to take the broom from Guy, but it slips through his fingers without any effect. When he tries again, there's enough force opposing him to toss the broom across the kitchen.]

Better.

[One minute Guy is sweeping up a mess, minding his own business. The next... The next the broom is not only torn from his hands, it is sent flying away from him. His fingers smart a little from the force of it.]

What the hell!?

[And still no one in sight to blame.]

[This is the point at which Guy begins to freak out. He steps back quickly, looking around in alarm, arms still sort of raised defensively--like that's going to help against some invisible... what. Ghost? Magic? Suddenly animate objects?]

Who's there?

[If there WAS anyone.]

[Asch takes this rare opportunity to get right up to Guy. He needs to know just how invisible he really is.]

It's me. [He hesitates, then reaches out to touch Guy's shoulder. With a hint of annoyance:] (I'm right in front of you.)

[And now Guy knows how Luke feels, what with random people speaking in his head and all.]

Gyaaah!

[Guy nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels something touch his shoulder. There's nothing there. He isn't that easy to freak out but he has to admit this is pretty freaky. And then what sound like Asch in his mind, speaking to him without actual sound.]

[Okay this is fucking weird.]

Asch?

Edited 2011-08-27 15:58 (UTC)

[Asch pulls his hand back.]

That... worked?

[He looks at his hand again. This is ridiculous, but... he touches Guy's upper arm. Asch's energy feels warm, almost as if he's really there. But of course, Asch wouldn't initiate physical contact unless he was desperate.]

(Can you hear me?)

[The touch leaves, and then it's back and okay Guy is officially creeped the hell out.]

Y-yeah. What... [Is that Asch touching him? Invisible and voiceless?]

What happened?

[Never mind he has a lot to say to Asch this is not exactly the time. For one, it's hard to get in someone's face when they don't even have a visible face to get into.]

Edited 2011-08-27 16:25 (UTC)

[Asch can get in Guy's face all he wants, but he's assured he only needs the barest contact, and so he reclaims most of his personal space. Even if he's the only one who can tell.]

(It's either an experiment or a malfunction of the Machine.)

[He looks past Guy and realizes that he can't see any of the specters that have been haunting him for the past few days. Then he says something kind of offhandedly, unintentionally cold.]

(It wasn't anything you did.)

[Woah. Temper tantrum.]

[Morgana doesn't know how to clean... but she does know that 'kill it with fire' is a tried and tested way to clean up messes. Taking one of Eithan's books, and looking around to be sure no one is there, she says something in Old English under her breath.]

[A big explosion bounds outward. Morgana shouts, ducks down, and stands up to a VERY charred kitchen.]

...I will have to work on that.

[Asch prepares himself to be caught in the explosion-- but it passes right through him.]

What the--?!

You're going to kill yourself if you keep that up.

[He's already figured out that she can't see him. But maybe he can still get her attention... He takes a plate off the counter, slowly and deliberately, and sets it at her feet without breaking it.]

[Good job, you've graduated past throwing things around like a poltergeist. Morgana watches the plate move. She kneels down, touches it, frowning. Then looks around.] Is there anyone here?

[He pauses, then sets his hand on her shoulder briefly. The energy is warm and familiar, and even faintly buzzing if she concentrates hard enough on what's around her. But then he pulls away, anticipating a panicked reaction, and all of that disappears. He sighs and straightens.]

[There is no panic. She feels it, and though she is a little startled, she knows it from before. She says it out loud, as if someone can confirm it for her:]

The Seventh Fonon.

[That was pretty cold. And harsh. Guy looks in the general direction he hopes is away from Asch.]

It turned you invisible? Are you like this back home?

Yes. [It falls on deaf ears. He feels terribly ineffective right now. He hates that feeling. He hates being helpless, hates seeing something in front of him and being told he can't have it.

Alas, that's the way his life goes.

But she can feel him. He's not sure what he wants. Acknowledgment? Is that it? He doesn't need acknowledgment from her, of course he doesn't. He doesn't need that from anybody.

He tries again. Not so very long ago, they shared a dance. She might feel one hand on her side so lightly it might not even be there, and another hand covering Morgana's own. If she looks in front of her, however, there is only clear air.]

(If I were only invisible, it wouldn't be a problem.)

[He huffs a bit.]

(I'm trapped here.)

[Morgana almost shivers at the touch, at something like being held but not quite. She stands very, very still.]

If there is someone here, give me a sign.

[The warm touch retreats. The plate shifts three inches to Morgana's left, wobbles, and stops. He watches her intently to see if she figures it out.]

[Morgana watches it, then walks over to the fridge. In all seriousness, she takes out a bowl of pudding and sets it on the table.] Write on the table for me. There isn't any need to worry about making a mess; you have done more than enough of that. I doubt anyone could tell the difference.

[Morgana is not one to hold back on reprimanding ghosts.]

[Ouch. She doesn't pull punches, even when talking to the dead. He ponders the pudding. Every time he tries to stick his finger in it, it goes through, so he flips the bowl instead and gets pudding all over the counter.

Le problem?

But wait, there are letters appearing!]

I'm trapped.

[Okay that's a little creepy.]

[Her mind immediately leaps to the stories she heard as a child, of the varied creatures trapped between worlds.] Do you know any way I can help free you?

[The pudding swallows up the letters, then forms a simple:] No.

[He's pretty lost at the moment. He doesn't know what to do, and... he doesn't even know if he can get out of this. At least Tear and the replica are safe.

He wonders what will happen if he doesn't come back. The replica can't do it alone, even if Asch spends years and years in his head.

Which he doesn't want to. Asch leans on the counter and writes something else.]

Possible experiment.

[She stares at the words for a moment. Then she steps away, and looks through the nothing, and holds out her hand.] Come with me.

[He watches her hand for a long moment.]

Come with you? Do you always trust the ghosts you meet on the Plane?

[He reaches forward, eying her uncertainly and invisibly, and then takes her hand.]

[She feels the warmth and takes it as her cue, her fingers tightening around the warmth, even if it's a clumsy grip. She pulls him along, away from the wreckage, to the ballroom, and she drags him into the dressing room.]

[Morgana points at the rows and rows of clothing.] You can try putting on clothes to see if they can be seen. I'll find you something better to write in than pudding.

[She starts looking through the boxes for something to work with.]

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