She nodded a little, a small smile tugging at her lips as she got a confession from the boy. “I thought so.” she admitted, shrugging slightly. “How did you die?” she asked quietly.
It seemed so weird to the teen, speaking so plainly about his death. Not even his sister knew...well the death she knew about. What she didn’t know was that he was still here. “The plague...or whatever they ended up calling it, it took me. And yet, here I am,” he awkwardly chuckled. “How much do you know about the supernatural anyways?”
Jasper remembers – he knows what it means when you lost your familiar. When you lost your home, missing family members and blood stains that spill over linoleum.
( Jasper hasn’t forgotten like the rest of them. )
Occasionally, on nights when the moon almost feels full, he can smell his mother’s apple crisp. Jasper didn’t talk of it though, never uttered a word not to August nor Keegan nor Arlo nor Lupis Superior pack members. No peace found in silence, Jasper missed HIS people, he had people of connections but a truth he would never admit nor be capable of swallowing was he missed not only his people – he missed the boy who use to live in his own skin. Where random questions directed by nameless faces in his direction would strike ire, he tamps his vexation and figures a way to answer.
Jasper gets the need to know, he’s used to being absorbed in trying to understand why. Black & white as a worldview is the same of love & hate, concrete concepts for him, he understands the burn & the motivation & how they haunt and he hates – that he can’t give a honeyed answer.
“Not a scare – but I’m sorry son, I haven’t.”
“Fuck,” Vincent muttered, sitting back onto the porch of his house. A few of the others he had approached had been so startled by his sudden appearance they ran off, and others ignored him. All he wanted was to find his sister and make sure she was okay, but he couldn’t do that alone. He was bound to this house. If he went much beyond the house, he’d just reappear in the middle of it.
“Damn, well...thanks. Uh, if you see her, especially if she’s like at a bar, could you tell her to, um...to go home?” he’d as the other to tell his sister that Vincent was looking for her, but he was dead. So far as she knew, anyways. And that would lead to complications. But his wording was also rather clumsy. Fuck, why was he so bad at this?
It has been a continuum of working out, at the gym or in the rings, and then going to work. Lachlan wanted to keep herself distracted, to make sure that she doesn’t fall back and isolate herself in her room again. She had been avoiding certain people, not having the heart to look at them without wanting to tell them the truth, and if she was busy doing these activities, she wouldn’t be forced to interact with them. Taking a shortcut from The Cage, she cut through a nice, quaint neighborhood, a huge contrast with where she was staying. A sudden movement in the air prompted Lachlan to immediately reach for the weapon in the back of her pants, a tool of protection always in reach. Eyes widened, not aware if the figure was there before. But then again, everything seemed to startle her nowadays. Her fingers relaxed from the gun as soon as she noted that the figure didn’t look like a threat. She made excuses for missing him earlier, being as she was possibly just focusing on something else or distracted.
“No, I haven’t. A phone call usually fixes that problem, though,” she suggested. The sincere intention of her words was masked with how snarky it could have sounded. “Have you been standing there for a while? Or did you just come from somewhere? Because those are awfully soft and quiet steps you have.”
Seeing the woman reach for...something, put Vincent in a panic. Even if weapons couldn’t actually hurt him at this point, it was still instinctual. Thankfully, when she realized he wasn’t a threat, she dropped her reach. “I’ve...tried.” He tried calling but it wasn’t that Kassandra didn’t pick up, it was that a phone was useless to him at this stage of his powers. Right now, he could hold the object, but he couldn’t unlock it. In fact, Vince wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to. It was unclear, and it wasn’t as if there was a ‘how to be a ghost’ manual. “And nothing yet...every time I’ve called, I’ve just gone straight to voicemail...so I guess if you see her at any bars, or whatever, tell her to come home?”
At the following questions, his eyes widened. “Oh -oh, I was sitting on the porch...I, uh, I’ve been told I have a tendency to blend in,” he lied. “S-Sorry again for startling you. I totally didn’t mean to.”
She nodded a little, wondering if she’d been to this mentioned comic store and knowing without guessing that she hadn’t, it hadn’t been somewhere that was on her list of priorities. “I can, but, I..” she hesitated slightly, “Can you come… I mean.” she huffed a little, trying to make it sound a little less weird then it already was. Which was impossible, best just … come out with it? “I’m sorry, I just, I know… what you, are now?”
Vincent’s stomach dropped, she knew. “Wh-what, what could you mean by that...I-I mean what else could I be aside from human?” He laughed awkwardly. While he could be slick in lying, he got anxious and twitched nervously. Especially when Logan wasn’t around to keep him level. Around the right people, he could keep his story straight. “Okay, you got me...I’m dead, sort of.”
She listened to his explanation, debating whether or not this counted as a case of missing persons. “So you haven’t been able to contact her…Do you want to use my phone?” Slipping it out of her pocket, she offered it towards him, more of a symbolic gesture since he was currently out of her reach. However at his next words, Carly bit her lip. She looked down for a moment, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear subconsciously. “Uh…yeah…That…that was me,” she nodded, bobbing her head awkwardly as she looked up at him again. “But I’m…uh…back on the job, so I can try to help you find your sister.”
“Uhh, nah, that’s...that’s fine,” he began trying to cover his ass. While Vincent could grab the phone, he wasn’t certain if he could actually unlock a phone or use a touch screen. There was no certainty he could keep his cover as a ghost, but may as well try for now. Both of his brows furrow as she so awkwardly informs him she was in a coma. “Okay, um, well, if you could just track her down, that would be great. She’s had a lot going on recently and I don’t know how she’s been handling it recently...she had been drinking a lot before I...uh, got sick and recovered...” he lightly treaded.
Carly had always preferred walking over driving around town, but now she took every chance she could to get out and stretch her legs. Strolling down sidewalks she never thought she would see again, she wished it gave her a sense of peace, but it barely began to calm the restlessness that had instilled itself inside her. If only the sky hadn’t been so horrible to look at, she might have been able to pretend everything that had happened was simply a bad dream. However it stood, the crack across the sky like a gaping reminder that none of this was simple. As she walked, hands in her pockets, Carly was in her own head, both aware and unaware of her surroundings at the same time. Perhaps that’s how she missed the boy until he was practically beside her.
The sudden voice stopped her in her tracks, and she looked up, surprised to see him there, having sworn the porch to her right had been empty a moment ago. “I’m sorry, that doesn’t sound like anyone I’ve seen lately,” she shook her head, taking a few steps up the lawn in order to be able to talk to him better. “Is she missing?”
“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath as she informed him she had not seen him. “I...well,” Vincent paused to regain his composure and properly explain the fake situation. “I have kind of been more or less missing for a few weeks, but I got back a few days ago and she hasn’t returned and I don’t have my phone to contact her. So...kind of?” His thoughts faded as he stared in the face of a woman that looked so familiar. But what was it? Why did he recognize her face? “Hey, you’re that police officer that was in a coma, aren’t you?”
She was slowly working through the list of the dead, it seemed, as she found another address of a recent deceased and began to search the streets that were now so familiar to her for the new address of the Arakawa Siblings. She hadn’t met either, at least she didn’t think she had, during the time both siblings were alive but she needed to confirm her growing suspicions about the status of the recently deceased. She had nearly walked past the house, until Vincent spoke up and her attention quickly jolted towards him, eyes immediately assessing what she could see from where she was.
“Uh, no… I haven’t I’m afraid, would you know where she is?”
Now to just focus on remaining whole as he spoke with the woman. “Uh...she’s the general manager of the comic store, so she could be there. Or at a bar, honestly she’s been a bit unpredictable recently. And I’m not old enough to go into the bars to check...” with that he trailed off hoping the woman before him would chime in to help. Of course, he had a fake ID and could get into a bar...if he wasn’t tied to the Arakawa house due to his death. But, the woman’s watchful eye was making Vincent more nervous than he already was. Could she see through him...like literally and metaphorically?
After about a week of witnessing his sister pass through his form without taking any notice of him, Vincent accepted that this was his new reality. And concluding that he was a ghost seemed nonsensical but it was some reality to cling to. So for the following week, he stayed in the house (which seemed the only real option because as soon as he passed his car, he popped back into his room) reading through some books Kassandra had and practicing his ‘powers’. All he has really managed was making himself visible for an extensive period of time, and being able to move an object from one side of a table to another. At least now he’d be able to communicate, only problem was Kassandra wasn’t home now that he was ready.
So, Vincent resorted to sitting outside of his step. As he noticed someone walking by outside, he popped up (which also meant popping out of thin air to the approacher). “Hey! Sorry to startle you, but have you seen my sister?” He began biting his lip for a second. It had been so long since he had talked to someone (apparently over two months) so he was a little rusty. “She’s got blonde hair with a pink streak in it, she’s about this tall...”
Date: February 1st, 2017
Location: The Arakawa’s Home in Frank’s Hollow
Opening his eyes back up was an odd sensation. It was an action he hadn’t consciously done in...well he didn’t know how long. But first thing he took notice of was that he was in his room. ‘Odd’ he thought, glancing around. Last thing he remembered was being in immense pain, slowly dying from the disease plaguing Braddock. First, he figured he would be in a hospital room as he had been out...for who knew how long. Second, and this was becoming more glaringly obvious, he didn’t feel...anything. ‘Did I magically get better?’ Vincent wondered as he began to feel euphoric at the thought of being cured.
But, as his gaze dropped down into his body for, he noticed his form was glitching every few second. ‘Wait...what?’ He blinked several times...hard, trying to figure out if it was a trick of the light. The glitching persisted. “Fuck,” he hissed. Was this another nightmare? Was he still in a coma? The young witch stood up and went to rifle through the contents of his desk (which looked cleaner than normal, probably because of Kassandra) only to see his arm go directly through the desk. “What. The. Hell?” Again, he tried, and nothing. Next, he attempted to pick something up and again, his hand just phased through it, like he wasn’t even there. The glitching grew stronger before his form just vanished for a quick second, enveloped in complete darkness. ‘What is happening?’ As panic washed over him, nothing happened. No insane winds kicked up around him, everything was just still.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck me. I just want to go home. Please just let me go home and let everything be okay.” He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the house, particularly the living room that became like a home to him in the latter weeks of the infection. As he lost his mobility it was just easier to be in a central location where Kass could keep a close eye on him. ‘Oh Kass...’ he sadly thought. As his thoughts calmed and he allowed himself to open his eyes again, he was standing in the center of the living room. Either he was in the middle of some insane drug trip, or he hadn’t made it through the infection but his soul had remained. No matter what the truth was, this was going to be a tough one to ride out.
time & location: Frank’s Hollow, December 11th 1:15pm
mentions: Kassandra Arakawa ( @kassarakawa ), Sauriel
triggers: suicide mention, blood mention, anxiety mention
summary: description of how the infection is affecting vincent (p. 1-3), and vincent slipping into a coma
Vincent was so tired these days. Any more, his body had built up a tolerance to all of the medication that Kass bewitched and forced into his body. By forced, he meant just that. At this point, he could hardly move a muscle voluntarily and his muscles were atrophying as the only movement they were getting were from the occasional seizure and the daily trip to the bathroom, if Kassandra could even get the young witch off of the couch. Otherwise, Vincent was too weak to move on his own. At this point, he almost preferred it. Those trips to the bathroom meant he would catch a glimpse of his reflection, and he looked like he had been vomited out of Hell. Instead of the usual healthy glow of his skin, it was pale with a feint sickly yellow-green tint, and littered with sores along with dried blood. The only glistening was of sweat. His hair had lost any sheen and instead was dull as well as slowly falling out. Along with that, he was entirely dependent on his sister. If he was on his feet, she was supporting him. She was his crutch and Vincent was her ball and chain.
Beyond looking worse than shit, he felt like death. While Kass’s potions were able to keep his organs working, everything else was failing him. He persistently felt like he had just woken up after the hardest workout of his life and didn’t stretch afterwards, had to labor through every breath, and often had a terrible time working through what was reality and what was his mind playing tricks on him. Half of the time, the hallucinations were harmless in the moment. They would be figments of his mother, or father, or his closest friends that he use to party with (like Logan) spending time with him. When the hallucinations of his parents faded, he was left waking up to the reality that they could very well be dead and that they certainly weren’t in his life now. The images of his friends could be more dangerous as they’d try to lure him off of the couch. Sometimes it was successful and he had gained several bruises and scrapes falling down and hitting one part or another on the coffee table or the corner of the couch, basically any obstacle. This always left him feeling like that cliche out of those old Life Alert commercial because he was helpless to even get up from the floor. Then there were the more perturbing hallucinations where he was faced with his worst fears taunting him, leading the teenager to suffer through an anxiety attack before he could return to reality since most of the time he was too paralyzed to call for Kass’s assistance.
Living was becoming harder and death was coming closer. Vincent welcomed death. Much of the time he was conscious, he wished that it could all end. When he was awake, he only suffered. But he didn’t have the physical strength to even lift a tool to end it himself. Vincent also could not bring himself to inflict such a loss upon Kassandra, even though it seemed inevitable at this point. Kassandra was a ghost of her former self. Despite the mask she wore in front of Vincent, he could still see through the cracks when he wasn’t out of his mind on several different medications. She would assure him it would all be okay, but Vincent knew the truth. All hope was gone. He would be dead at nineteen and never would have made anything of himself. Vincent would simply be another footnote in the Braddock Tragedy.
This particular day, Vincent hardly felt present. He was 17 weeks into the infection. The only reason he was still alive was Kassandra’s potions acting like glue, holding together his rotting body. But the two of them new it wasn’t long before they stopped working, or the infection beat the temporary cures off. This day, he intuitively knew something was severely wrong. He hadn’t kept anything down all day, including water, and he couldn’t keep himself conscious long enough to get through a single episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia without passing out. It wouldn’t even be that he felt tired. He just could not will himself awake. ‘This is bad,’ he thought, in one of his coherent moments. Kassandra was out so even if Vincent could produce any sound, it would be useless. Through bleary eyes, he tracked down his phone. Very slowly and carefully, he began to text;
The potions aren’t working anymore. Get help and take me to a hospital. You can’t do it alone anymore. If I don’t live through this, take care of yourself.
Once the message was sent, Vincent let his eyes shut close.
When they reopened, he was in a hallway. All of the surfaces surrounding him were stark, almost blinding. It was almost clinical. However, as his eyes lingered down to himself, he seemed to have returned to a state of perfect health. His flesh was no longer marred by rashes and other such lesions. Carefully, he tested his muscles. And with ease, he rose to his feet. “Fuck yeah! I can move again!”
But as his eyes scanned the area, he caught notice of something he had missed before, a figure. A woman with white hair that nearly blended in to the surroundings had her gaze fixed on Vincent. “It’s time, Vincent.”
For a moment, he was paralyzed (though not in the way his physical form seemed to be). But those words quickly triggered something in his brain and the witch began running.
“You can run, but you’re on borrowed time already,” the angel of death called after him, but that didn’t stop Vincent. He was not done with this fight yet.
Vince’s quiet words sent chills down her spine. It was the most coherent thing she heard him say all evening, delivered with a clarity that seemed to speak through the fever. Foolishly, Kass held out hope–not even daring to breathe until he eased back into the couch, as if it never even happened.
“The remote? Didn’t you just have it–?” A slight frown creased her brow. She glanced at the usual spots–and found it, right in front of him. She felt her stomach sink. “Here, it’s.. hiding with the blanket. I almost didn’t see it, either.” She said, trying to reassure him as her own heart continued to splinter. She didn’t fight the hug, but rather melted into the comforting arm around her shoulder. All at once it felt like the exhaustion she carried for the past few months was catching up to her. She couldn’t keep this up for much longer, neither could Vince.
“Good, that’s good…” She mumbled in response, patting his arm. “What else did you do today? Did you and…” Kass paused to swallow the building lump in her throat. “Did you and mom do anything?”
At the question, Vincent gave a half hearted shrug. “Could have.” Time was irrelevant when you were high...though he couldn’t exactly recall what he took or when he took it that was something that confused him, however he dropped the mental question as Kass cuddled into his side. It was nice having her back home, for some reason he seemed to have it in his mind that she had been very busy as of late...helping him with something?
“Yeah, mom was helping me look up some parts for the car I’ve been working on,” one he hadn’t touched in months since he was healthy. “And she watched some movies with me, I was surprised she had the time to. She’s been so busy lately that I hardly see her,” he yawned out.
“Good, because we’re gonna do it anyway.” She paused a moment, taken aback by his question and concern for her at a time like this. “No, I’m fine. I-It’s just allergies. Fall, leaves, dust, all that stuff.” Kass explained with a quavering voice; she didn’t quite have enough heart to make a joke about how she always looked good. disappeared into the kitchen for a moment to refill his water glass, and returned to set it on the end table beside his end of the couch.
Gently, Kass pressed the cool backside of her hand on his forehead: it burned hot. She removed it with a grimace. Hallucinations were considered normal at this stage of the infection, but were they due to the high fever? Or other… cerebral damage it may have caused? Honestly, it was beyond frustrating and-and terrifying just how little was known of this disease…
Settling on the couch next to him, she snuggled into the sinkhole of a couch. “Did you eat anything today? Or, did anything stay down?”
“And mom is always wondering where I get my rebellious streak from,” he laughed, though his laughs were riddled with small coughs here and there. But as his sister made a comment on how it was just allergies, he ruffled her hair and leaned in to his sister, and almost lost his balance due to his extremely weakened state. “Take care of yourself, kay?” Vincent asked in a quiet tone, as if almost snapping back to reality for a moment. But as he collapsed back onto the couch, he sank back into the delusions.
Now to get back to It’s Always Sunny. Of course, Vincent needed the remote for that. As Kass checked his temperature, he looked around for the remote, but where was it? Loose papers started flying around as his eyes darted around until the teenager gave up and collapsed back into the couch, pages following suit. “Kass, could you grab the remote?” The remote which was sitting right in front of him.
As she sat beside him, Vincent wrapped his arm around her. “I think I had some saltines earlier...”
“Ah yes,” mused Ethan as he nodded in agreement. “It’s literally gone down to survival of the fittest and these hunting parties make things quite unfair.” The shapeshifter was weak and only one man, a group of healthy individuals with weapons and the will to kill anyone in their way isn’t what he calls fair play. Forcing himself to sit up straight, Ethan tightly gripped his steering wheel for support and suppressed having to groan in pain. “How cute.” he states without any sort of amusement. “Just do what you got to do kid. This isn’t really advice since I’m literally the last person you should be getting this from, but the weeks shouldn’t matter at this point. Spend time with your sister, do something you enjoy, take whatever opportunities you can do and in the end, that’ll probably be your ‘bang’.” Ethan’s attention diverted to his surroundings to see if there were any law enforcement and whatnot. They were in the clear so far, therefore he returned his attention to Vince and asked, “Where do you live? I’ll drive you home, save you the pain, time and effort. Annnd before you point it out, yes I know the current state I’m in, but the high died down and I’m still capable of driving. How do you think I’ve been trying to avoid majority of the hunters, law enforcements and other officials? Anyways it’s your choice man, I’m just saving you the trouble.“
Vincent nodded slightly at Ethan’s statement, but then just continued to nod because he got lost in the motion. What were they even talking about? And why was he in Ethan’s car? ‘Whatever, I’m feeling okay right now, what does it matter?’ he figured before sitting a little more upright. “Yeah, my sister’s real cool. Maybe she’s got something good lying around the house...Ah fuck, I’m supposed to do something with her...” his train of thought was lost once more. “Oh wait, find her, that’s what I have to do,” he finally realized, laughing to himself before coughing a bit. Ethan was dying though to, so Vincent didn’t feel super obligated to hide it. “Ah, dude I don’t give a fuck, we’re both nearing the point of being dead men anyways. I live at 410 Red Fox Way...but I can’t remember exactly how to get there at the moment...”
1. favourite colour(s)?
2. least favourite colour(s)?
3. do you wear glasses/contacts?
4. are you colour blind?
5. what are you seeing right now?
S O U N D
6. favourite band(s) or artist(s)?
7. top five songs?
8. favourite instrumental track(s)?
9. favourite non-musical sound?
10. what are you hearing right now?
S M E L L
11. are you very sensitive to smell?
12. favourite scent?
13. opinion on the smell of blown-out candles?
14. what does your shampoo smell like?
15. do you like to wear perfume/cologne?
T A S T E
16. favourite fruit?
17. favourite non-alchoholic drink?
18. worst thing you’ve ever tasted?
19. do you enjoy any unusual food combinations that others find unappealing?
20. what flavour gum do you usually chew?
T O U C H
21. do you often rip/cut the tags off of your clothes?
22. any specific textures that bother you?
23. do you have a high pain tolerance?
24. softest article of clothing that you (have) own(ed)?
25. are you a good hugger?
O T H E R
26. do you ever feel like you have a sixth sense? in what way(s)?
27. any prophetic dreams?
28. have you ever had your fortune told? (did it prove to be accurate?)
29. has anyone “read your mind” before?
30. have you witnessed any “miracles” or strange coincidences?
