from the underworld;

past exorcist, lover and friend. a saint who rises like phoenix, but the spark coming from hell itself...

[fearlessfifer]

Fifer was much too shaken and beside himself to really speculate Haymitch’s honesty. The answer was not what he wanted to hear. Even after all this time, having the ability to look his lost lover in the face, the victim, he still didn’t have a name or description of who murdered him. Not to mention the witch responsible. Fifer looked at the clothing Haymitch wore, it wasn’t his own. Someone had bought it for him. The ginger pulled back, almost fell over, but kept his balance and wiped a hand from his nose to his lips in befuddlement. After a moment of staring at Haymitch he sniffs and asks, “Where have you been? Who’s keeping you?”

[intxthedark]

Haymitch wanted to turn back and leave. He didn't want to see Fifer again, he didn't want to see him in first place. It was too painful, especially when he tried to forget of his past, to start anew. Only Beth linking both of Haymitch's worlds, now with the exception of a much stronger bond. His lover, and supposed to be fiancée. The man he wanted to kiss, but denied himself that wish. He'd feel nothing; and Fifer, only coldness. At the pull, Haymitch was about to stubble along, but instead regained balance and held the ginger by his arms. "I, I cannot t-talk about it. F-fifer....we sh-shouldn't have seen...wecan't meet, never ag-gain..." He said with cracked voice, ghostly tears rolling down his face. Not existent, yet they felt like burning coal against the spirit's cheeks.

[reverendcainrivers-blog]

"I need to clear this room and then pain the walls a nice white. Think you can help?"

[intxthedark]

"It'd be a pleasure, sir," The spirit replied with a smile, starting to push one of the large couch. "I leave it in the hallway, or take it to another room?"

[bloodless-mal]

Mal looked over his shoulder at the man on the sidewalk, Christmas lights tangled in his arms and a couple nails protruding from between his lips as he stood near the top of the ladder. He plucked out the nails to respond, resting a hand on the top rung to steady himself. “Nah- M’alright, mate. Thanks for the thought,” he called before turning back to hammer in another metal spike. 

The cold had numbed his hands slightly and a misplaced finger resulted in a painful slam of the hammer and the rest of the nails and string of lights dropping from his grip. “Ah- bloody fuckin’ell,” he hissed, shaking his hand before putting the finger in his mouth.

[intxthedark]

Haymitch wouldn't have offered his help to the man if he didn't saw him as troubled as he was. All Christmas lights around his arms and legs, then the nails between his lips. He worried that if this fellow fell, all nails would get directly to his throat. With some luck, it wouldn't happen so. "You sure?" He asked, tilting his head lightly, but decided it was best to let the man be. "Okay, I'll...be around if you need anything. 

And Haymitch knew he'd need help after hearing the yelling and swearing, the spirit trying to force his laughter quiet. How rude of him. With a still hardly erasable smile, Haymitch went back to him. "So, should I ask again?"

[spectersam-blog]

"I’ll put that on my list of things to do. Right after I cross off ‘sitting in an abandoned restaurant with a talking dead body’. How does that sound? And I’m not doing anything to the wires, there’s a leak. Spare? Do I look like a hardware store to you? See, now this is why I don’t trust the dead. Even though I’m sure you’re bluffing. Now, if you want to keep making empty threats that’s fine… Or you could help me find the backup generator.”

[intxthedark]

"You know, we prefer the term, 'former living', or 'necromanced spirit', if you do not mind. It's like calling a black person 'nigga', thank you very much," Haymitch responded with cold naturalness, as he nodded at the girl's plan. He was not an expert on electricity, but he was arrogant enough to go against the lady. "Okay, I'll help you, but I just warn you that it is not an empty thread since I do can accomplish it if I wanted. Lucky I don't want." 

[artfuldimitri-blog]

"Duet." Dimitri repeats. "Who would be my partner?"

[intxthedark]

"Once the chorus is made, I'll decided that." He said, teasingly serious.

[spectersam-blog]

"Lovely, congratulations. Want me to commemorate a statue in your honor? Give you a medal? Sorry, don’t have one. Now, from what I can tell the wires are fried… water damage and- you swear what? You’ll haunt me?”

[intxthedark]

"A statue would do, long as you can do better job with it than with whatever you're doing to those wires. If water is the damage, there's no other remedy than to change them, if you had some of spare- I could, if I cared enough of you. thought of something more like, knives and use of telekinesis."

[fitzicle-deactivated20150106]

Fitz buried himself into the other gratefully, holding on as if letting go meant another death. He wiggled a little, the warmth a little strange at first, a little overwhelming, forcing more involuntary noises from his mouth. He clenched cold fingers around fabric to make sure that Haymitch wouldn’t just vanish away like a hallucination. His head ended up against Hay’s shoulder, and quite comfortably so, even if there were tears running down his face and his unnecessary breathing was harsh and unorganised. He was terrified, yes, but he reached out and touched the side of his companion’s cheek, hand flinching away when he made contact only to move back and run thumbs over the skin, “S-Sugar?” he whispered, “Don’t go, please." He was going to let the fist buried in the spirits clothing loose, and most of his fear was it all being a lie. A stupid dream like the many others he’d had. He breathed, trying to even out his ghost heartbeat, "I… I just…" he didn’t have words for this, he just pulled himself closer, letting one arm wrap around Hay’s waist and the other rest on the shoulder his head wasn’t leaning on.

[intxthedark]

Haymitch didn't move. Instead, he only tightened the grip, his hand ghosting over the man's hair, his lips placing over his head. He suddenly broke into a so vulnerable being, and it only made the necromanced spirit to never let him go. Sometimes this is how he felt over Fifer. He felt the necessity of protecting him. Once the head moved to his shoulder, Haymitch rested cheek against it, The other being gently stroked by Fitz's thumb. His own hand eventually reached for the spirit's face, wiping away all burning tears he found. "I'm not going anywhere, mate, I'll stay with you, okay? Don't fear," He reassured, as if he was calming down a sobbing kid. And it was not really a very contrasting comparison. "Shh...don't talk, just rest." If he was able, he'd have cried along. But no tears ran down. He suffered, though, yet feeling Fitz's warmth, and his tight grip, it made him feel good. Bitter-sweet.

Haymitch eventually broke the hug, his hands cupping the spirit's cheeks and cleaning any trace of tears. "We can't stay here, not when you're sobbing out like this...you have a place?" He asked, a forced smile on his lips. "I'll stay with you, even if you don't you can come along to my place." He gently offered. From now on, he'd never leave this man alone. It's what he less needed.

[spectersam-blog]

"Oh yeah? Have any other suggestions then? I’d be happy to hear them. In the mean time I don’t suppose you can turn the power back on, Casper?”

[intxthedark]

"I could try something, it's not the first blackout I go throuigh you know? If you let me check what's the matter I could...okay, call me Casper one more time and I swear..."

[reverendcainrivers-blog]

"If you are insisting, sure. Help could be nice."

[intxthedark]

"Perfect, so...what do you exactly plan to do?"

[caleb-martell-blog]

"I don’t think you do. But I don’t know you either, so we’re even."

[intxthedark]

"Okay, and even if you knew me, just in case, the name is Haymitch."

[intxthedark]

"I don't really think you have to do it like that...sure-sure you do not want help?"

[intxthedark]

[fitzicle-deactivated20150106]

"Control since the minute you met me." He smirked, which again turned to mock displeasure at the use of his full name, "Fitz. And my last name is Harris, Hay dear, no use in hiding it.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, mocking his companion.

He knew exactly what he could do to this necromanced spirit, this loveable asshole he’s gotten in with, he knows with every breath what he wants to do, cravings he’s never had in his whole time as a ghost. His skin is burning, because Fitz knows only Haymitch can touch him, “More would be a lot rougher, honey, a lot louder.” He moved closer, so he could almost breathe his words and still be heard, “Probably better to show you, than tell you, sugar.”

[intxthedark]

"Excuse you, but I control myself, you don't, thank you very much," Haymitch answered, snickering as he realized the way to get in his new mate's nerves. "Fitzpatrick Harris....had your first name been Neil, that'd be hilarious." He laughed softly. Get it, because Neil Patrick Harris...Fitzpatrick...yeah, funny.

Haymitch didn't want to say anything. But Fitz was slowly making him fall. Perhaps not love ntirely, but it was intoxicating. The sensation of feeling, the warmth against his fingertips, it was beautiful. And Fitz was beautiful. His cynism and cockiness on point. As hard as it had been for Mitch to move on from Fifer, he thought of Fitz as a lovely man who apparently could be his deathlong friend. Or else. And the temptation of doing more than hand-holding with him...Fitz gave it in an silver platter. "What are you trying to say?" Haymitch smiled, playing fool.

[fitzicle-deactivated20150106]

"I know, I’m a shocker." He grinned, all teeth, watching Haymitch watch him. He almost jumped when he felt the other hand join in on the sensations wreaking havoc in his mind at this point. He was losing the feeling of breathing, one he’d half relied on despite being dead, and tried to meet gazes with his partner, was about to reply with wit he’d carefully picked when the hand left it’s position and connected with his face. He properly whimpered there, and there was nothing, nothing that had made him shake as badly as he was shaking now. He knew he could cry, it’d happened before, and he was desperate for it to not happen right here, almost panting to keep the façade of life inside of him. Despite it, a single, ghost tear escaped him, and his breath caught again, chest uncomfortably tight.

[intxthedark]

Haymitch stared at the spirit, almost heartbroken. Who knows how many time Fitz spent like this, longing to feel the touch of any other, any other being. Being touched and passed through, it was not equivalent than touching yet not feeling, which was Haymitch's case. But probably it was even worse. He felt how the other was shaking, what moved Haymitch to stand and pull his chair closer to him, and gently separate their hands, and instead pulling Fitz to a tight hug. And it almost made Haymitch join the sobbing when he realized how real Fitz felt. Felt. He only tightened his grip when he could feel the locks of hair, and the ghostly clothes he wore. And so he felt the hot tear his thumb wiped away, his own face showing desperation. This is something he never thought of experimenting again. The touch. It was beautiful.

[fitzicle-deactivated20150106]

"Lucky my ass," Fitz chucked, and let himself be pushed around, "I obviously have beautiful control over you," he glared, in a mock manner, "Of course I am, especially if you call me that.” he giggled, but held himself back from leaning in to take a kiss from the deader man, mostly because he knew that Haymitch wouldn’t be able to feel it.

"If you did like it, sugar, then you could expect more.” His voice was impossible soft as this point, but husky as hell. He wasn’t going to lie. Haymitch was gorgeously charming and an equal in wit. And as much as he’d like to joke, he wasn’t terrible at singing, and outside of this his voice was more than enough to keep him restless at night.

[intxthedark]

"Control over me? And since when?" Haymitch arched eyebrows, This man brought out all of the cockiness he usually kept for himself. Well, not really. But he did made it more fun to reply, each comeback bringing a new one. "How? And wait until I get to know your last name, sir Fitzpatrick." He emphasized, arms crossed over his chest, head crooked to the left.

Haymitch had to bring his lower lip between his teeth, impressed by how sensual the spirit's voice became. He liked it. His body slightly tensing, heat building up inside his stomach. "And what would more be, if you do not mind me asking?" He leaned closer, his smirk showing off his pearly canines.

[fitzicle-deactivated20150106]

"Halloween is best, I fucking love Halloween!" He grinned and spoke with an entirely rough manner he wasn’t quite used to, but it softened as he continued to speak, "Sometime’s I’m good though, I play with kid’s toys in shops and make them move." He grit his teeth slightly, hand tight in between Haymitch’s fingers, and if he had a heart beat, it would’ve stopped right then. He wanted to say something witty to stop him nearly break down, but immediately regretted it when his voice sounded weak and shaky, not to mention the stuttering, "T… T-This is kinda kinky, r-right? W-We’re both really dead…" And I really want you for even worse things right now, he finished in his head, biting his lip like a nervy child.

[intxthedark]

"And I was not expecting that answer at all, like, you really are a fucking surprise," He mockingly replied, but then kept silence as the spirit deepened into his answer. It was cute to think of him playing Casper. Seeing fingers lacing, Haymitch's free hand covered both fists, not wanting to let go. For a second, he could swear he felt the grip. Perhaps it was the stupid desire to feel it, or the same spiritual connection that allowed him to touch Fitz. The comment made Haymitch chuckle softly, tilting his head. "Is this really what you think of kinky? I mean, yes, I touch you, but I don't touch you." He furrowed eyebrows at seeing him so nervous, his hand slowly reaching to cup the spirit's cheek. The other not letting Fitz's hand go.

[intxthedark]