❂❂ＨＡＵＮＴＥＤ ＨＯＵＳＥ❂❂ discussion

They walked into the livingroom. Bella glanced around trying to spot the piano. She found it in the corner of the room, dusty and cracked. That didn't stop some of the ghosts from using it though. She walked over to it and paused laying a hand on top of it. She loved this old thing. Although she never learnt to play herself personally, she always loved coming here and listening to some of the spirits play a modern chune she hadn't heard. She looked over at Rosette. "Lets hope your cats in here then."

Whisper cocked her head to the side and listened for the faint mewling of a cat. She wasn't certain of what she heard, every creak in the distance felt unreal so she wasn't about to rely on her hearing when it concerned a cat.

Her fingers went to the side of the piano, feeling for a groove or hole and when she found one her miniscule, fairy'like hands slipped inside and searched for the ticklish brush of cat's fur...

((Question: Do you actually want whisper to find Rosettes cat? It's up to you seeing she's your character. I'd hate to make the decision for you :3 ))

Bella looked down at Whisper in curiosity. "Well? Have you found anything?" She looked at Rosette in worry. Bella hated the fact that it could be her fault if they found nothing and Rosette had her hopes crushed. It was Bella's idea after all. "This is only an idea though Rosette. Just a suggestion. She may not be here. Although hopefully she will be. For closure on your behalf."

((I suppose I don't have any issues with animal spirits. Generally, my own opinion here; I don't think of animals having spirits, but in this group. Why not? and I'll let Kitty post next...))

((Yeah, I have no issues. She's your charrie after all ;) ))

((Okay, no cat ;) ))

''No, there's nothing in there,'' Whisper answered as she removed her hand from the piano.

''At least she's free,'' Whisper said. Not like us, she thought darkly. ''I guess it'd be kind of hard to get catnip in this place.'' Her smile was faint. ''So neither of you know how you died?''

Bella felt bad for Rosette but hid it, not wanting Rosette to think that Bella was taking pity on her. She looked towards Whisper curiously, thinking of her own scar around her neck. She always figured it was because Don Angelo knew she was a lesbian, therefore hanging her like one might hang a criminal. This theory didn't sit well with her, but it was the only one she had.

"All of my scars came from when I was alive," Whisper answered. She looked down at her hand, at the crucifix that always taunted her. "The fifth foster father liked to wave his bible around, as if the smell of the musty old pages could 'cure' me, but then he tried fire." She tapped the scar near her eye. "That was from falling off of my motorbike."

Was there any way of telling how she had died? Whisper felt the back of her head and winced when it throbbed painfully.

"Head hurts, guess I could have been hit from behind or something."

She licked her lips and could have sworn she tasted ash again.

"I was born in '81 and I'm 18 now so... I'm guessing it's 1999?" But that number didn't feel right. She wondered if this was what someone in a coma felt like when they woke up and realised they had been asleep for awhile. It was almost as if she had been digging her way up to this house, as though she was down in the ground somewhere...

"How old are you? Have you been dead for long?" she asked Bella and Rosette.

"Well I died in 1850 at age 20 and from what that physic girl, Ember, told me from when she was hiding in the trees and I was in the greenhouse apparently it's 2014." Se sighed and sat down on the piano seat, sighing heavily. "The world has changed so much and I haven't been there to experience it. I mean, do you know there are things such a jeans? What's more is that they're pants and women wear them. That's just so..so great." She looked out the dreamily, wishing to be out there.

Whisper looked down at her mini skirt and torn stripey socks. Shame she hadn't had her backpack with her when she'd died - there was plenty of modern stuff she could have shown off.

''There's a psychic?'' she asked though she wasn't really focused on the question. 2014 - Feathers would be in her thirties now. She wondered what she looked like and whether she still lived in the area.

''The world's changed a lot for all of us, new rules, new people. I don't know anything about 2014 but I can answer any questions about the '90s''

Whisper also wondered how open these two women were of an openly gay woman, considering the era they came from and age.

[[ If four isn't too cramped... May I RP with you guys...? ]]

[[ Yay! Thank you! *Bows* ]]

"A physic?" Daryl repeated softly from outside the living room, acting surprised to himself. "What would you think of that, brother?" he murmured, peeking into the room where three other ghosts stood. He had lost his brother, surprisingly, and had decided to look for him. By luck, he stumbled into them. He knew their names of course, Whisper, Bella and Rosette. He'd been there, above the ceiling, listening to them die and greeting them when they awoke--as ghosts. He'd probably been the one who explained the rules to them too, if it wasn't his twin who did it.

"Did you say physic, Bella?" Daryl called, popping his head into the living room, as straight-forward as usual. "Ember, you say?" He didn't really care about the year anymore. Being dead for about two hundred years made you disregard time.

One-who-can't-be-named wrote: "((Okay, I'll be back after half an hour. You can post your comment.))"

[[ Oh, okay. I have to go in a bit too. It's nearly twelve midnight here. ]]

((Hi, welcome to the RP :D))

Whisper started at the sudden voice but quickly calmed down when she realised it was another spirit.
"Hey," she murmured in greeting. "I thought psychics had died out by now, considering all the whistles and boops of the digital age must drown out the voices of the mind."

But what did she know of psychics? The last one she had met when she was alive had been one in a travelling circus. She'd told her to be wary of the hand she kissed, whatever that meant, looked like the psychic had been wrong, anyway, considering she'd died here.

"Yeah," Bella said, feeling like she had contributed to something new and important. "Ember never actually enters the house because she's smart and her knows what he is capable of but she likes to talk to the spirits every now and then in the tree outside the greenhouse." She smirked over her memory of meeting Ember. It was a cold night and Bella wanted more than anything to feel the wind. So she went into the greenhouse and imagined she could feel the wind. Suddenly she had heard a noise coming from the outside tree. Turns out it had been a girl of 8 years old who was trying to peek into the scary house. He had been so oblivious back then. "Yeah, she's a real psychic."

''Maybe she'd know how we died or whether we can leave this house somehow,'' Whisper suggested.
Though would I really want to find out how I died? she thought. It probably wasn't pleasant.

[[ They were all killed in private, weren't they? Older spirits don't know how the younger spirits die, do they? ]]

[[ Alright, then. ]]

"Why does it matter how we died? And how would she know anyway? Some of us were probably killed years before her mother was even born," Daryl said, letting out a long breath as he slid down a bit lower in his chair. "Getting out of here, on the other hand... She might know. Just maybe." He shrugged, "I'm not sure if all physics are ghosts experts, though. This one might just be some ordinary girl who has no knowledge about us besides the fact that we actually exist."

With the loud emitting squeakiness of his sneakers. Fortune ran right into the living room. Stopping short of just slipping. "Well, well, well. It seems quite the gathering goes on around here." A chuckle escaped his mouth as he made his way around the room. Jumping up onto a table caused his wet clothes to plop against his ghostly skin. "Nice mirror." He grinned and slammed his foot right into the glass, breaking it for just a moment before it simply was back to normal.

Hope looked around the corner into the living room startled by the immense crowd of people that seemed to be gathering there. Okay, so she was exaggerating a bit, but it somewhat reminded her of a family gathering. There were just so many people - er, spirits. She swallowed, and looked into the room wondering if she should join or not.

Fortune pivoted till he was facing a new comer. "Oh hey look someone slightly new." A grin spread across his face. Within a matter of seconds Fortune stood in front of the woman. "Who are you?"

Hope, started, jumped back a bit in surprise and said, "Hope." She didn't elaborate because she just couldn't help but stare. Even though he looked perfectly normal, it was still startling to see a ghost right in front of her. Real proof. Proof she had been looking for all that time she was ghost hunting. Too bad, someone should have told her she would have to be a ghost first.

With a dripping wet finger he poked the woman in the forehead. A slight laughter escaped his mouth. "Well Hope do you have any left?" He grinned widely as he ran to slam his foot into yet another mirror.

Hope blinked and went to swat his hand away only...he was already gone to slam his foot into a mirror. Just a tad bit nervously, she said, "do I have any hope left? I don't know...why do you um, smash mirrors?"

"I am soaking wet for all eternity and I am dead, not much else to do." He laughed as he hoped on to the piano. His wet sneakers connected with the keys as he played a terrible tune.

He was quite strange, that was what Hope thought, but then, in a way, she had two choices. He was either insane, or childlike. If he was childlike, she could pretend he was like one of her kid brothers and not be freaked out by his weirdness. If not, then she ought to be on her guard. She couldnt decide, so she just watched, clamping her hands over her ears at the dreadful noise.

"Surely you could at least learn how to play in an eternity," she muttered.

"There is nothing to do here. Everything we destroy just comes back. And I have only been here for a few years imagine what the others who have been here longer are like."

Fortune now hung upside down, suspended by an unknown ghostly force. "Rosette you have a strange way of thinking." Reaching out he placed his wet hand on her cheek.

"Ahm, yes, just ignore this completely sane spirit over here, like you always do," muttered Daryl, waving his hand over his head. "What am I? Two months dead?" He leaned towards the table in front of him and propped his chin up with two of his fists, scoffing at Fortune. "Rosette's right. The older you are doesn't mean the more crazy you are. You've probably broken that same mirror ten times more than I've ever broken anything in my entire existence."

"And I'll break it ten more times." With a grin Fortune dropped diwn to the floor. "It would seem that I may be losing it. I mean what else could I actually do. I can't even dry myself off."

"Actually, he can keep on breaking it, it's not like there's anybody stopping him, is there?" Daryl said, rolling his eyes before glancing at Rosette. "And no, missy. When did you die? How long have you been here? There's no way out. Unless, of course, you mean you want to go to Hell."

"They say if you meet him, you'll be engulfed in flames. And then you'll go to Hell. Do you count that as one way?" Daryl muttered sarcastically, "'Cause other than that, there's no way we haven't already tried. Besides, what happens after we get out? Find that physic? What will she do? Tell the world, "Oh hey, actually ghosts exist. Can anybody help send them to Heaven?"" He let out an annoyed sigh. He'd already had this conversation with his twin for so many times before, and he'd been very certain that there was no way out every time.

Daryl scoffed, "Right, right, can't throw the wet blanket just yet. Whatever." He was tired. He'd had this conversation with tons of other ghosts before, and some of them were so frustrated and frantic they went looking for Don Angelo. And well, they got out of the mansion in flames alright. Including the Serbian, who used to be his best friend besides his twin. Fine, maybe he shouldn't go around dampening everyone's hopes, but he didn't want them to collapse in horror once the thought really sank in. "But there's certainly no way to 'get rid' of him. All humans and spirits will be killed or destroyed if they ever get close to him. Unless you find something that's already dead-dead, there's really no way."

"Do you have any clue where to start then?" Daryl snapped, ignoring her previous questions. Of course he didn't like people dying and being trapped in here forever, but really, what could they do? "How about we march up to him and ask him why's he's doing all this, eh?" he said sarcastically, finally breaking out of his position and leaning back into his chair. "Oh, how about this? I know, why don't we tell the little physic to burn this whole mansion down. We'll obviously get out. But guess what? We'll probably free him, too. Come on, if we find a way, he'll realize there actually is a way too and then he'll bust himself out. More people will die, too." Now, Daryl had no idea what he was saying about him finding a way to escape, but whatever it took to stop Rosette from going on a wild goose chase which would probably end with her, and maybe others, burning in Hell, he said.

Scared. You're too scared. Something snapped in Daryl as he cringed at the words. Rosette was right. He was scared. And he was probably the only one in the whole mansion scared of leaving. He didn't know why he was, but he just couldn't imagine closing the mansion door behind him and following the other spirits into the world beyond. It made him cringe and scowl, and the dread of somebody finding the way out wouldn't ever go away. He tried to cover it up, of course, lying that it was because of the others who tried escaping. He pretended to be horrified at what became of them after they tried and went mad. He almost convinced himself that was why he wouldn't let anybody else try find a way out. Especially his brother.

"F- Fine," Daryl snapped back, stuttering a little as his ghostly body went stiff--if that was even possible. "Have it your way. There's a way to get rid of him. There's a way to get out. Get the physic to help you, search every inch of this mansion, confront him yourself, whatever. Just"--Just don't make him leave with you--"Just don't get me involved with all your rubbish." With that and a slightly annoyed sigh, Daryl stood and stalked past Rosette, leaving the living room and continuing on in the search he wasn't even interested in anymore. Maybe he wasn't being mature, and that exit was rather the most childish thing he'd ever done since dying, but Daryl really couldn't leave the mansion. He just couldn't.

[[ Um, I'll have to think about why he's so attached to the mansion and is so moody whenever the topic about leaving comes out, but yeah. I'll try to have that done soon. ]]

"The twin has issues." Fortune began to hold back his laughter. He walked around the living room till he was face to face with Rosette. Both hands held her cheeks gently. "Why do you have soo much hope?"

"Because your dead. Hope is for the living."

"Hope can be cruel," Whisper said, remembering all of the times she had been filled with hope at the thought of a normal, kind, sane foster home, then having her hopes dashed. "When one person's hope is fulfilled another's is crushed."

She felt like hugging Rosette, it was an odd, overbearing emotion, but she wasn't that type of person and so she kept her hands to herself.

Whisper liked the thought of burning the mansion down, like opening up a lantern to let the fireflies - ghosts - that were trapped inside out. Yet this darker spirit, whoever he was, might fly out with them.

"I'm guessing a priest has come here at some point and tried to wave the big bad ghostie away with his 'magic cross'?" she asked.