SOUND: DRIPPING WATER, WAVES, GENERAL CAVE NOISES, FOOTSTEPS
MUSIC: PROBABLY ROCK OR SOMETHING OF THE SORT
TARRIN: (humming along with the music at first before noticing You)
Oh hello. How the hellād you get in here? Ugh, no matter. I was just about to check on my second favourite girl, I suppose you can tag along. Not like you have any way out of here. Come on. In this one sheās in Hat Yai Thailand. Summer of ā53 by the looks of it. Oh, 1953, sorry. Centuries are kind of important I suppose. You ready?
SOUND: WHOOSH, BUBBLE POPPING
MUSIC: FADES
SOUND: LAUGHTER AND MUMBLING AND GENERAL SOUNDS OF A SMALL TOWN, PERHAPS A CHICKEN
TARRIN:
What a dingy place... Oh sorry, I forgot you can't see it. I'll describe it for you, minnow. Looks like weāre in the middle of town. Look at that poor child. Oh, donāt worry. No one can see us. This is technically a memory. Technically. That being said, donāt touch anything. Donāt know what you are, but I canāt imagine timespace will be kind to you unless youāre like her and her ilk. I think they may just be timespace, yāknow.
SOUND: EVERYTHING QUIETS, THOUGH THERES PROBABLY STILL A CHICKEN OR TWO
TARRIN:
Oh, whatās this? Look, minnow. That little girl was shunned by society. Whyever would that be? Is it because sheās was orphan? Because she was quiet? Because she was blunt? Because she could see into peoples minds and pick apart their futures with a simple touch? Probably all of that. Like a good mixture of all of that. Look how scared these people were, minnow. Of a little girl, of all things. Look at how they cowered and fled and-
ESME:
Uh, excuse me-
SOUND: DOOR SLAMMING, RUNNING FOOTSTEPS
TARRIN:
Pathetic, really. Oh, but whatās this now, minnow? Someoneās coming, and fast. Down through the empty stalls and over livestock. A red blur. Aaaand, straight into the little girl. Oh, she fell down. Well she didnāt get hit that hard, come on.
SOUND: ESME GRUNTING, FALLING SOUNDS, NECKLACE FALLING ONTO GROUND
TARRIN:
The little girl felt as if she could suddenly see everything, at least in that moment. The visions were vast and varied and blurred in their hurry to be, to make their way into her mind. The only thing the little girl could make out was a redhead girl with dark skin, freckles and scars scattered along her body like comets and stars.
Oh, the runnerās necklace fell off in her hurry. How unfortunate. What will the little girl do, minnow? It seems sheād been thoroughly affected by the other running into her. As if it affected her psychic powers in a bad or intense way. I imagine that probably sucked. After she recovered, she picked up the necklace.
ESME:
Oh, uh, miss! You dropped your.... locket. Oh... I should probably return this to her...
SOUND: WHISPERS, WAVES, FOOTSTEPS
TARRIN:
The little girl began following after the othersā path. It wasnāt hard, the other wasnāt exactly subtle. No, she has never been subtle. Produce carts fallen over and disturbed foliage made it clear where she was going and where she had been. The path led her outside of town, towards the beach. Towards the giant building that was home to so many deaths. It might've been some sort of mansion in its heyday, who knows. It was a place of respect now, full of shrines and offerings and such. Now Iām not one to assume other cultures, Iāve been stuck in that dingy cave longer than you 've ever been, minnow. I donāt know how they felt about death in Thailand in the 1950s, but they probably in the very least respected the dead. The girl hesitated. She hadnāt brought any offerings, and she could hear... things. Whispers. Though, they weren't the same as the whispers she heard in town. In town they were mixtures of thoughts and futures, here they were just simply whispers. Must be nice. I mean Iām not a psychic, but being forced to know everyoneās thoughts and futures and then being somewhere where you would see nothing. Feel nothing. To, for once, have your thoughts be your own. Must be nice.
The footsteps led up to the building. Of course they did, minnow. Where else would a mysterious stranger go? The little girl walked in, her sense of duty outweighing her uneasiness. Wonder what thatās like. Are you attached more to your duty or your feelings, minnow? Even with your answer, which one wins in the end?
The little girl approached the door, and knocked. It was a dingy broken down old building, and she knocked. Can you believe that? She knocked. Who would even answer? A ghost?
SOUND: DOOR OPENING
NATCHAYA: (ghost effect)
Oh, hello! Who do we have here?
ESME:
Uh, hi... Iām looking for a girl with bright red hair. Like, like a fire? Her path leads here.
TARRIN:
Well whatādya know? A ghost. Iāve lived long enough that you'd figure Iād know how to bite my tongue at this point.
NATCHAYA: (any ghosts just have a ghost effect to them)
Oh! You need the messenger for something? Come in, come in! Iām Natchaya by the way! Pleasant to have a visitor who can see us! Iām afraid we donāt have much here... Oh, and how ever will you get up to the messenger! This place hasn't exact had good building structure for a while.
SOUND: WAVES BUT FARTHER AWAY, DOOR CLOSING, WHISPERS
TARRIN:
Natchaya led the girl into the broken down house, hand floating close to her back. The little girl let this happen, though Natchayaās hand would have gone through her otherwise, which would have been hilarious. The little girl was polite though. Inside was bustling with people, but for once the girls head didnāt hurt from the visions. Perhaps because they were dead, and they couldnāt fully touch her. Not in the way physical people did.
ESME:
Um, Iām Esmeralda... I think I prefer Esme though.
NATCHAYA:
You think?
ESME:
I just need to return this necklace, miss.
NATCHAYA:
Yes, of course... How to get you up these beat up stairs though... Or lack of stairs I suppose, heh... Oh, Art! Hey, has anyone seen Art?
ART:
You rang?
TARRIN:
Their voice came before their body, although I suppose one can expect that from a ghost of all things. Especially one as ridiculous as Art is. They floated down from the ceiling, in a relaxed sitting position.
NATCHAYA:
Art, would you mind giving her a way upstairs? She needs to get to the messenger.
ART:
Of course, anything for a beautiful young lady.
TARRIN:
Art winked, as ridiculous beings are wont to do. As I am wont to do. They waved their hands around, as if creating a symphony and debris swirled around them, creating a makeshift set of stairs. It was pretty dope.
NATCHAYA:
That should do you just fine. Thank you, Art. Will you be able to make the journey upstairs yourself? There shouldnāt be any troubles once you get up there, sheās just in the bedroom. Second door to your left when you get up there.
TARRIN:
Esme nodded and started her journey up the stairs. For anyone else it would probably be trivial. One step after the other, no matter if it was made by a ghost. For a ten year old though, it probably felt like an adventure. Oh to be a child again. Not this child though. Iām already under enough stress having a girlfriend in a superpowered family, imagine being alone and superpowered and... Alone.
She walked along the hallway quietly. She did everything quietly. She had to, I imagine. The door to the bedroom was cracked open, and Esme saw the girl from the intense visions. The one who bumped into her. She was a teenager. She was talking animatedly with a ghost that didnāt have a face. When she noticed Esme lurking in the doorway she brightened even more than she had already been. As if she recognized Esme. The combination of piercing red eyes and the way she acted scared Esme.
MESSENGER:
Oh, who do we have here? Come in, come in. Oh, donāt mind Jira, sheās not much of a conversationalist. Sheās absolutely lovely once you get to know her.
TARRIN:
Esme walked in, nervous. The redhead was intimidatingly sweet. Intimidating in general. But for Esme... She was intimidatingly too much. Her powers needed proximity, see? Usually being across the room from someone only gets surface level things, but being this close felt too much for Esme to handle. She had a task to do though. She had to return the necklace.
MESSENGER:
What brings another living soul here then? I was told this was a place reserved for the dead.
TARRIN:
Esme didnāt answer. Couldnāt, perhaps? Could you?
MESSENGER:
Not a talker either, huh? Can I at least tease a name out of you?
ESME:
Esmeralda Chavez...
MESSENGER:
How pretty. May I call you Esme?
TARRIN:
The girl walked over to Esme, smiling. She didnāt know the effect she was having on Esme. I imagine she thought she was just making a friend. She touched Esmeās shoulder. A kind gesture, but one that sent Esme reeling both literally and figuratively. Visions came upon her, crashing like the waves outside.
An ice castle- no an ice prison. The redhead grinning at a group of people, seeming to be from different eras.
They were surrounded by debris and broken down buildings, the redhead was with a tall man and she picked up a bundle. A child.
The redhead and a pale man, Esme thought she might recognize him from the group in the first vision? This is going by too fast. They were cuddled on a blanket on a beach, but the colours were weird. The sky purple, the water green in a bad way. The sand blue. There were lights in the sky.
Esme came back when she hit her head on the wall, and the girl stepped back.
NATCHAYA:
Are you okay, dear?
TARRIN:
The redhead was sat on the bed, vague concern on her face. Natchaya was floating beside Esme, hand itching to comfort the girl. Jira, the faceless ghost, was gone. Esme nodded. Her head hurt, but it was nothing she couldnāt handle. There was a lot she handled on her own. A bump was trivial.
NATCHAYA:
Oh, good. Have you done what you came to do?
TARRIN:
Right, the necklace. Did you forget too, minnow? I know I did. Those visions were pretty intense. Esme seemed to have forgotten too. She fished the locket out of her pocket and held it out to the other. The girl touched the place where the locket would have hung.
MESSENGER: (gasp)
Oh, my locket! Thank you, love! Grei would kill me if I lost it!
TARRIN:
She moved to take it from Esmeās hands, but Esme flinched. She didnāt want to experience that again. Whatever that was. The teen understood, sitting back down.
MESSENGER:
Pass it to me?
TARRIN:
Esme nodded, tossing it over gently. It seemed it was going to land on the floor between them, when a warm gust of wind brought it over to the teen. Esme watched as she put it on again, tucking it into her shirt.
MESSENGER:
Thanks again, love. May I ask what happened when I touched you? Does it hurt when people touch you?
ESME:
Kind of. It hurt more when you did it. Itās visions... Future events and thoughts, I think. Yours were... a lot. I didnāt even see your death. Youāre not normal are you? Not human?
MESSEMNGER: (laughs)
No, no love. Not by far. Neither are you, it seems. Not normal in the very least.
TARRIN:
Her laugh filled the room. It was the type of infectious laughter fathers usually had. Unashamed and loud. Esme couldnāt help crack a smile as well. Once the girl calmed down she stood and headed over to the window, seemingly intent on jumping out of it.
MESSENGER:
I should be getting to my next job now, Esme. Thank you, Iāll see you next time.
SOUND: FOOTSTEPS, JUMPING, WIND
TARRIN:
With a wink the teen was out the window, and... flew off. Esme couldnāt believe any of what was happening that day, but a flying girl was an entirely different story.
ESME:
Who was that?
NATCHAYA:
I donāt know her name. She brings messages and packages to Jira sometimes, and leaves after talking for a few minutes. Busy girl, it seems... Well, we ought to get you home, donāt you think?
TARRIN:
Home. What was home to Esme? An orphanage that didnāt want her? Streets that were unkind? The first kindness sheād gotten in this town was from the dead. The dead she couldnāt know the thoughts or futures of.
ESME:
Would it be okay if I stayed here?
NATCHAYA:
Here? This place hasnāt been fit for the living in years, dear. Besides, wonāt your family be worried sick!
ESME:
I donāt have a family. Thereās no one to miss me in town.
ART:
And Iām sure with my services we can make this place fit for a princess such as the young lady. Whatās the harm, Natchaya?
TARRIN:
Natchaya pursed her lips, looking between the two. Art looked happy to have another person here, and Esme looked hopeful. What was the harm? She would have to stay away from Jiraās room when the messenger girl came, but living with Jira herself would be pretty easy. Besides, town wasnāt far if Esme ever did find herself needing a living being.
NATCHAYA:
Alright. Art, start getting the master bedroom set up first and foremost. We can worry about the rest of the house later. Itās late and she probably needs rest.
TARRIN:
Art grinned and flew off to do just so. Esme brightened up. She felt just about as happy as the messenger had been. Natchaya couldnāt help but smile back.
NATCHAYA:
Well, I suppose it would be nice to have an addition to the family.
ESME:
Family?
TARRIN:
Aw, she has a family now. I always said itās better to find your own than deal with what you were given. I mean why deal with the worst when you deserve the best? We should head back now. Let them live their lives.
SOUND: WOOSH, BUBBLE POPPING, CAVE NOISES AND WATER DRIPPING AND WAVES
MUSIC: FUNKY AND COOL
TARRIN:
Well, what did you think minnow? Was our girl entertaining enough for you? Thatās all I have for now, get out of here. Perhaps next time youāll learn more about her. Her powers, and her family. Perhaps. Until next you stumble in here, minnow.
SOUND: FOOTSTEPS, HUMMING FADING AWAY
MUSIC: FADING AWAY
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