[MEME] OH NO A GHOST

[wolfintheattic]

OKAY LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS.
I wanna play a ghost. Below are some prompts.
I'm not super picky about setting or 'verse.

A- Your character is a paranormal investigator, an obnoxious tv show host, or is otherwise exploring an area that is said to be haunted for whatever reason. Maybe it's a dare.

B- My character's ghost just SHOWS UP in your character's home. Did your character buy some haunted shit off ebay? Maybe my character died nearby or was summoned via Ouija board by some stupid teenagers at that party you hosted last month. Either way, you got yourself a haunted house now. Congrats.

C- Your character is also a ghost. Maybe they died together. Maybe my character is new to this whole being dead thing and yours shows them the ghostly ropes. Maybe it's the other way around. Either way, ghost adventures are had. _{Not currently looking for new PLSs with this plot!}

D- Your character is a necromancer-type-person and has summoned mine's spirit to do their bidding.

E- Your character is an exorcist and is here to shoo mine out of their current haunt or otherwise help them move on.

F- Our characters are friends. Mine died and has returned to hang out/help/finish some business with yours.

G- Your character moves into the house mine is currently haunting. EXCUSE U.

H- POSSESSION. It happened somehow.

IF A CHARACTER YOU WANT TO MEET IS MISSING, LET ME KNOW.

Comments

Maurice Hutch | OC

[toothaches]

[Available in pre-canon (was a human), canon (was a vampire), Ryslig-verse Shade, and dumb centaur AU flavors.]

D, kind of. Have Naomi's less then cheerful sibling.

[reflected_image]

Get the fuck away you f- [Any further swearing is cut off by a very loud crash as the teenager knocks into yet another stack of books. This would be the fourth stack he's knocked over since accidentally summon a ghost.

Sure, he had been reading from a book of spells, necromancy spells specifically, but he hadn't expected them to work. Maria had told him that only powerful sorcerers could use that kind of magic and he was a novice at best. It had just been ideal curiosity that lead him to read them.

And yet there was a ghost in front of him, and Kou would deny later that Maurice's sudden appearance had cause him to scream like a girl. Right now he was just focused on putting a good amount of distance between them. A long with books. Lots of books. The librarian was going to be so mad at him later.]

[toothaches]

I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

_{[BUT ALAS! Kou, you are the summoner. Maurice is the summonee and he can't leave you without being properly dismissed, so like a reluctant poodle on one of those dangerous retractable leashes, the man drifts after him. He's a big fat guy too and rough around the edges. Wild hair, dark clothes, tattoos. Or one tattoo anyway.]}

Stop running!

G with shades of A

[hunter2_0]

[Artemis has heard the rumors about this dorm - strange noises, odd events, and so on.

And, frankly, she couldn't be less worried.

Part of it, of course, is that, try as people might, nobody seems to scrape up any real evidence for the "ghosts" actually being dangerous - and, besides that, Artemis has no intention of buying into any of this until she's seen some kind of proof for herself.

Which totally doesn't have anything to do with why she's sitting on the stairs in the middle of the night with a tape recorder, looking bored out of her mind. What, she's a communications and street law student, not a paranormal investigator, alright? She doesn't know how to go looking for this crud.]

[toothaches]

<sub>[Oh, wow, a tape recorder. This one is serious.]

[Most days, Maurice hovered near the ceilings or drifted by the windows, content to watch campus life and occasionally help him along. Lost text books would show up mysteriously in front of dorm doors. Alarm clocks would refuse to snooze. The card swipe door mysteriously always opened during bad weather.]

[A chill falls over Artemis as the dead man leans over her shoulder, unseen, and admires the little device for a moment. Then he brings both hands up to his mouth and blows an incredibly loud raspberry.]</sub>

JW | OC

[goldeneyeball]

OTA, comes in adult and young adult hippie flavors!

A!

[serenesuccessor]

[For Naomi, Halloween was supposed to be all about wearing a costume, getting candy and pulling the occasional trick on her friends and family. What it wasn't about was doing things that were scary.

And yet she found herself walking onto the porch of the house everyone in town said was haunted. She gulped, looking over her shoulder at her group of friends standing safely on the sidewalk. They had decided to play a game of truth or dare while they hunted for candy, and Naomi had foolishly picked Aaron's dare. She should've known better, because Aaron was an actual jerk. She wasn't even sure why the jerk was trick-or-treating with them, she sure as heck didn't invite him and she certainly never would now.

Her best friend Bridget gave her a hopeful thumbs up. It was enough to give her the final push. She took a deep breath, pushing open the squeaky door and entering the house. She only had to stay inside for an hour, and already had the timer on her phone set. She held said phone close, using the flashlight app to help her along the way. She carried her fake spear in her other hand, prepared to protect herself from anything that might pop out at her. Naomi was so glad she'd thought to use it to compliment her Atalanta costume. It sure was going to come in handy now.]

Hellooooo? [Her voice echoed, making the thirteen year old jump.] U-Um, mister ghost? Don't mind me 'm not gonna be here long! Or miss ghost?

[A floorboard made her jump again.]

Pl-please don't eat me!

[goldeneyeball]

<sub>[Ugh, Halloween. As if it wasn't bad enough he had to chase would-be contractors off his property year round, now it was October--the Month of Teenagers. He'd been reclining in a painting over the hearth, peering into the losing hand of a poker playing dog when he heard his door creak open.]

[He really wished the lock hadn't broken twenty years ago. He couldn't exactly go to the hardware store and get a new one. He put his cards on the table, patted the bulldog nearest to him and leaned out of the frame. His aura was a barely noticeable green in the gloom of the old house.]</sub>

Let's see, whadawe got this year...frat boys? No, I didn't hear anything breaking... Goth kids? Mmmmno, I don't smell grease...aha.

<sub>[Yup, it was a teen alright. And alone too. Not too bright, were they? Good grief what was that thing in their hand? Some kind of Star Trek gizmo? JW found himself suddenly worried that he'd nodded off for another dozen years. It was scary the first time it'd happened...and what does a frightened ghost do?]

[Scare the shit out of people.]

[He drifts out of the painting and gets to work.]

[A coldness passes behind Naomi as another creak comes from upstairs. Suddenly every painting in the hallway falls to the floor.]</sub>

a mix of A and F

[greatrage]

[These jobs always piss him off. Particularly stubborn ghosts that just won't take a hint. The church won't deal with them; they say they're limited to demonic possession only. Run of the mill ghosts? Well, those had to be contracted out to the public sector.

And this one was apparently mad as hell.

Broken objects, injured people, electronics gone haywire... Eren had to get this spirit out and fast.

The owners of the house seem skeptical when a boy no older than 17 walks into their house with nothing but the clothes on his back. Clothes that included a beat up t-shirt, worn out jeans, and sneakers on the verge of falling apart. Well, and a backpack.

But rest assured, he says. He's a professional. He's done this a hundred times. Now if you could please leave the home so the cleansing can begin.

The owners reluctantly leave, and Eren turns off all the lights in the house. From his backpack he takes out some candles and a stick of sage. Burning them should get the spirit's attention, and the smell of the sage should piss it off enough to get it to show itself. He lights the candles and sets the sage on a little ashtray. A curl of blue smoke rises into the air from it]

Come out, come out, wherever you are... Olly olly oxen free. All that other stuff. I have another appointment so let's make this quick.

[despite looking normal. there's something different about this boy. He radiates energy. Plenty of any spirit to suck up and use to manifest itself]

[goldeneyeball]

_{[JW could feel that energy before the kid passed the mailbox. It set his hackles on end and he'd retreated to the furthest corner of the house like a cat when unfamiliar family visits at Christmas time. But the littlest exorcist was right--the scent of sage, something he distinctly remembered liking when he was alive, drew him out. He lingered in a corner, invisible but easily felt. The boy's energy made his own aura pop like static on an analogue television screen.]}

Go away.

D! (adult version!)

[victoriantype]

["Just give her books" was something she head so much that it wasn't much of a surprise when she was gifted a book for her birthday. She hadn't recognized the person giving it to her, though, but he'd identified himself as a "friend of the family".

So Alice had been gifted a heavy leather tomb and a bag of candies for good measure. She wasn't new to horror stories, but even for her, the book was a bit much. A lot of notes about vampires. river and lake monsters, mermaids, and a heavy section about ghosts.

What made it weirder was that it was written like a children's book. Almost everything was some sort of poem and there were cute illustrations throughout. Shrugging, Alice had read one of the spells-- "Saying Hello to a Ghost" and waited expectantly.]

..Why on Earth would ghosts prefer poems? [She asked her empty bedroom.]

[goldeneyeball]

_{[The air grew heavy and charged at the same time as if Alice's room were about to experience its own personally tailored thunderstorm. Condensation beaded on her mirror and any little white cats in the immediate area would no doubt know that Alice was not alone.]}

It's easy to remember things that rhyme, little girl. Ghosts are bad about forgetting things.

_{[The voice echoed from no easy-to-pinpoint direction and sounded tired. Sleepy almost.]}

mix of B and C? also how do you always have the best gifs

[hallacious]

[The house is awake with a crackle of energy, groaning under a spectral sort of weight. Here, two is certainly a crowd enough. Lifting his eyelids takes all the strength left in Ishimaru's body, if it can even be called that anymore, and the first thing he sees when his vision returns is not the icy tiled floor of the science lab. All there is creaking ceilings and torn up floorboards and cobwebs on furniture, and when Ishimaru raises a hand to his head to feel for blood, he phases through ethereal bandages - and his own body.

He screams and nearly falls through the cedar beneath him, glancing around in an almost feral panic with his hand at his chest, searching desperately for where he is and why he isn't dead on the floor.]

MAGIC

[goldeneyeball]

<sub>[Something called JW to this place.]

[And it wasn't a necromancer. That was a nice change of pace. He drifts down the unfamiliar halls with his hands in his pockets, dark eyes scanning the doors. Something was tugging on him. It would be a fitting afterlife for a discount paranormal investigator, wouldn't it? To become a ghost himself and continue the job.]

[Then he feels it. The panic. Wow, it's coming in waves like guitar riffs. Something here is not happy. He hesitates. It COULD be a demon...or just a confused little old lady. He sends back a wave of his own, a ping in the dark. I'm here!]</sub>

RE EREN: BRINGING HOME BABY

[goldeneyeball]

<sub>[JW has more or less behaved himself during the ride. He hasn't brought up the Song Which Shall Not Be Named. He really doesn't want to be anchored to a dildo.]

[But during the ride, he's been thinking about the weird pepto ecto layer Eren has placed on the seat so that he doesn't fly backwards out of the car like an ugly kite.]

[And the more he looks at it, the more it makes him think of one of those pee pads you put down for dogs.]

[And as ghosts are want to do, JW's emotions decided to latch onto that. And be INSULTED. He's not a DOG. HE DON'T NEED NO GOD DAMN PUPPY PADS.]

[Eren's rear view mirror cracks straight down the center.]</sub>

JESUS CHRIST

[greatrage]

[A wise decision, Mr. JW. Wise indeed. But the loud CRACK catches Eren's attention and almost makes him swerve off the road. For safety's sake, he pulls over to the side of the road and looks at his mirror with a frown.

Which he immediately turns toward JW, pairing it with a glare]

What's wrong now?!

B, adult flavour JW??

[graphomaniac]

[ After the cuckoo-clock arrived -- complete with cuckoo and quaint Bavarian figures drinking beer and eating sausages -- Lev spends at least a quarter of an hour staring at it and trying to remember why he'd ordered it. There has to have been some sort of reason, even if he'd done it in a painkiller fugue.

Had he meant to show it to Anzu? Lev picks the clock up in awkward, stiff hands and turns it around, examining it. It's not gaudy enough to look like Anzu's thing, so that can't be it.

It appears to be a perfectly ordinary, disgustingly kitschy cuckoo clock. There's a deep gouge in the back panel, like a crooked mouth, but otherwise it looks, well. Disgustingly kitschy and very much like a clock. And Lev can't remember why he'd wanted a cuckoo clock or even when he'd ordered it.

It ends up sitting on the dresser, unwound, wedged between a hefty collection of Sherlock Holmes stories and an ancient manual typewriter that's missing a solid third of its keys. And then Lev forgets about it entirely, until, one night, he wakes up to it ticking.

Ticking just a fraction off-beat.

Lev sits up and fumbles for his glasses and then for the switch of the bedside lamp. He stares at the clock, agog, until finally he finds words. ]

S-stop that. You're unwound!

[ Okay, talking to a clock is stupid. But Lev's half-asleep and he never claimed to be smart. ]

[goldeneyeball]

<sub>[It's taken JW a while to re-situate himself. While he might have been attached to his grandfather's clock, the new setting really threw off his groove. He'd been a formless Nothing drifting through the walls for days on end, hardly leaving cold patches where he idled.]

[But now? Now, he'd gone and gotten himself good and mad. His emotions fueled his ability to interact with the waking world and by god he is going to make that clock tick until its ticker falls out.]

[A far away voice that could have been someone passing outside or maybe a radio in a passing car says, quite defiantly:]</sub>

Make me.

Naomi you have some 'splainin' to do.

[serenesuccessor]

[Almost five years ago Naomi accepted a double dog dare to spend an hour in a haunted house. That was when she met a ghost named Jim, and while it had been a rather bumpy start, a friendship had been formed. After that day Naomi made sure to stop by the haunted house at least once a week to visit her new ghostly friend. Her older brother always thought it was strange, but assumed that she and some friends had decided to make a club house in the old house.

It probably helped that she brought over decorations - stating firmly that the old house was very musty and needed some brightening. Naomi always enjoyed the visits.

A year or so later, though, saw an end to those visits. Naomi didn't even have time to say a proper good bye as she found herself helping her Mama and brother pack up their car. In all honesty with everything that happened she'd forgotten to even tell Jim that she would be moving.

It was a guilt that weighed on her chest the months that followed, but in time she had almost come to forget her ghostly friend. She'd even begun to think that he was just an imaginary friend she'd made up. It hadn't been until she'd returned to her old town for a visit, until Aaron had mentioned something about the "spooky house with the rug snake" that Naomi realized that it had all been true.

And felt even guiltier for doubting the memories.

So here she was - nineteen years old in the middle of summer instead of a fourteen year old on Halloween - standing on the porch. There was no one egging her on, no dare. Just her and a door that she was trying to work up the nerve to knock on.

Finally she took a deep breath, reaching up and giving a few quick knocks before opening the door and stepping inside.]

Mister ghost? [Because she probably wasn't allowed to call him Jim anymore after ditching.] You in?

[What if he wasn't? Her stomach flip flopped anxiously as she stood in the main foyer, trying to smooth out her pastel pink sundress before readjusting the messy bun she pulled her black and blonde hair into.]

[goldeneyeball]

<sub>[That year had quite possibly been the best year of Mr. James Walter's entire afterlife. While he'd protested the girl's decorations and even gone so far as to torch a few in is ghastly green fire, he'd secretly liked them. And he'd not secretly at all enjoyed her company. She brought him news of the outside world, brought her TERRIBLE NEW AGEY MUSIC, introduced him to video games, and he'd even had fun showing her old albums of his adventures in the attic.]

[But one day, while he was waiting for Naomi to get home from school, he'd felt a yawn coming on. And his eyelids grew heavier and heavier as it grew closer and closer to three pm.]

[The house was now coated in four years worth of dust. A rose bush had slithered through one of the kitchen windows and was now overtaking the curtain rod and one of the cabinets. Several of Naomi's decorations still hung where she'd left them.]

[And it was quiet.]

[Quiet quiet quiet.]

[Except for one small sound--like someone sawing very small logs. In the hallway there hung a faded painting that had once been an astonishing scene of a knight slaying a fearsome dragon. Only half of the dragon was left now and in the curl of its tail slumped James Walter with his head tilted all the way back, breathing (for lack of a better word) easily. He hadn't changed one bit.]</sub>

Roman Gulliver | OC

[neighborofthebeast]

[Ghost Au in which he became a ghost instead of a demon after being hit by that truck.]

C

[chillywhispers]

[Car accidents were always fun. Usually, Eddy could make at least one new friend. Usually more, when there's trucks involved. Friends... or souls to eat. After all, his battery wasn't gonna last forever. And he still had so much he wanted to do...

Bits of wreckage seem to move on their own. Just a bit, like someone is digging through it, looking for someone. A shimmer in the air, like a heat mirage.

Except freezing.

Those who aren't quite so lively may actually see the spirit. A boy in a grey sweater and jeans, barefoot. He floats a few inches above the ground and the scarf around his neck billows behind him like wings. Frost crackles over any object he gets near, but quickly vanishes.

He also might be humming a childish little tune]

Where are the guts~?

[neighborofthebeast]

<sub>[Roman's ears are still ringing from the impact. The cold boy's tune is the first thing that isn't screeching metal that actually makes it into his thoughts and he snaps out of...whatever he'd been thinking about before.]

[He's on a road. A road in the woods and something horrible has just happened, he knows it, he feels it in the air but...what?]

[Obviously the most logical thing to do is to approach the hobo boy digging around in what's left of a truck. Roman isn't a shy person at all, but he can't help but feel stupid as he approaches, his ghostly flipflops slapping on the concrete through rain puddles and pools of something much thicker and darker.]</sub>

Hey...hey, uh...

G - With a RL Space Cadet AU

[wreckyeah]

[Ever since he had retired from the military, Ralph had been moving from town to town trying to find a place where he felt like he had belonged. Every so often, he would up and sell his house, pack up his handful of possessions, and go on the road until he can to a town that caught his eye.

He lived simply, and despite his large frame, usually picked small-to-medium-sized houses, there was no point in having many large, empty rooms.

One house for sale caught his attention, and not only that, it was listed for lower than that size of house went for.

He arranged a walk-through with the company selling the house, the realtor gave him a tour and explained that someone had been hit by a truck right outside of the house some time ago, and ever since then, people had reported strange things going on inside the house. Even after it had been put on the market and the owners had left, there still were occasional reports of odd happenings.

Ralph brushed this off and purchased the house, he wasn't sure he believed in ghosts, but if they were real, they couldn't be any worse than some of the stuff he had seen.

So, he got to work moving his stuff into the house, causing a lot of ruckus, especially with dragging his favorite armchair into the house.]

GUESS WHAT IT'S TIME FOR!!!!

[neighborofthebeast]

Perhaps it was some sort of placebo effect, but as Ralph went about his day turning the empty old house into his newest home, today a melancholy hung in the air like a cloud threatening rain. It hadn't been there during the open house, or if it had, it hadn't really bothered to take notice of Ralph or the retailer.

The metaphorical cloud was not very big, but it was still there--especially in the kitchen and especially around the window that looked out toward the street. It was easy to imagine someone standing there, sourly staring into the living room.

Finally, once all the moving and banging and scraping and hammering and rearranging was done, something decided to make it known that it had not appreciated being disturbed.

A single cabinet door slammed once and loudly.