Completed The Eviction of Winston 'Bunny' Bunford (Winona)

[Sal Mander]

As far as plans went, the knocking on the door plan had proved to be fruitless. Not only had it deprived Sal of a quiet and amicable resolution to this most unwelcome of situations, it had instead put him into something of an awkward scenario. The woman wanted to break down the door and he feared he was ill equipped to stop her. This was just perfect, and he looked forward to explaining to his employer how a simple investigation had led to a chaktawe kicking things down. Yes, the plan had failed miserably.

With a visible sigh, Sal shrugged and nodded at the same time, motioning to Winona to go ahead and kick the blasted thing in, or shoulder charge it, or whatever the heck she had planned. At this point, he would not have been surprised if she just flat out punched her way through. Whatever method the lady chose, he was standing back just in case. While he waited for her, he wondered how much doors cost these days. The last time he bought one, it had come already attached to a house. Where would you even go to buy a door?, he wondered, trying to think of places in Lhavit that sold them.

What was he thinking about doors for? He shook his head in dismay, inwardly disappointed at his mind's ability to wander off in the most random of directions. But on the plus side, it did make him chuckle for a moment. He had even forgotten about the possibility of a ghost lurking on the other side of that door waiting for them with sinister intent, and when he did remember he could only imagine the ghost's face when Winona came charging in.

His attention was on the chaktawe now as she made ready to do whatever it was she was going to do. He had to admit, he was a little impressed with her direct approach which, if he was honest, would make his job a lot more interesting had he done likewise. Sadly his role at the Cosmos Center provided a lot more diplomacy and tact. Winona was moving now, like a wild animal once concealed, now leaping from its hiding spot to pounce on its prey. And in the history of door attacks - for surely there were many - this one had all the makings of a classic. Almost.

At the very last moment, just as chaktawe and door's relationship was on the verge of becoming physical, the door inexplicably opened without warning, leaving Winona charging into an open expanse where the door had once been.

[Winona_Heath]

"Winona, the Deaf Spirit" Winona watched with a smirk on her face as the pretty-eyed man knocked on the door with no response. She knew the thief wouldn't answer. In fact, they probably alerted him so by the time they break down the door, he could be out the window by now. She felt impatience creep into her bloodstream, causing her to constantly fidget and scratch. When he turned to face her, she switched from distraction to focus instantly. Her eyes laid expectantly on him. His lips parted, but not to speak, his lungs filling extra air and then letting it all out in one big sigh. So did this mean... He shrugged at her but then nodded his head with a solemn expression. Yes! Destruction! If he had meant to impress her with his skills to get people to turn themselves in, he wasn't doing a very good job. However, she didn't blame him. She was going through a new experience herself and wasn't sure what to expect at all. The only thing she did expect was to get her possession back. Plus, she never broke down a door before. The very idea made Winona feel all giddy inside. Hopefully, she wouldn't make a fool out of herself with the door barely budging and leaving her foot all bruised but she doubted it. Especially with how rotty the door looked. Or was it? She took a few steps back for more momentum, a playful glint in her eyes as she peered at him and then back at the door. She took in a deep breath, taking a ready stance to charge. She counted in tawna within her head. Three... Two... One... Attack! She sprinted from her spot, then leaped into the air, sticking out her foot as straight out as possible. However, as the heel of her foot was just about to make contact, the door swung open. All Winona could feel was sickness and fear pounding in her stomach, threatening to let loose. Holy shit what did she just witness? All her accomplice could hear was a small squeak that left her throat as she flew into the apartment and crashed onto the floor. The way she landed was completely awkward. Her foot skidded on the wood floor for just a minute until it caught onto something, causing her body to launch forward and roll across the floor. She felt herself hit the wall at the end of the room, her butt in the air and her head stuck underneath herself while her arms waggled in shock and attempted to get back on her feet. She felt her face go so red with embarrassment she almost wished she died that way just so she couldn't face the pretty-eyed man this way. "Oh my gods..." She wailed, thick tears spilling up her face since she was upside- down. She slid sideways and lay on her side on the filthy carpet with dark spots and stains in them. Winona curled into a small ball for a moment, wiping her forehead and forcing herself to sit up, hoping to death he didn't see the whole damn thing. She checked herself, only having a small scrapes on her arms and legs however a splinter the size of her thumb was a quarter deep into her foot from her landing in the other half of the apartment where the floor was half wood. She whimpered a little bit but took in breaths to control herself and her overwhelming emotions. Winona furrowed her brows as she pinched the skin around where the thin splinter entered her foot and then used her other hand to slowly pull it out. She checked for any tiny pieces that might have split in her foot but there was nothing else. A little bit of blood bubbled up but it wasn't too bad, she wiped it a little bit and used her hand to press against the small spot. She looked up, her face blotchy and red, wondering if he was going to speak.

[Sal Mander]

Sal had stepped back to allow Winona room for her door destroying entry. He had nodded to her to go ahead and waited patiently as she made ready her preparations. As though to illustrate his chagrin that things had not gone as he had planned, he leaned against the wall in a dismissive manner with folded arms. Part of him hoped that door was made of solid oak and that she would not be able to move it a hair. That would have saved a lot of explaining back at the office for sure. But realizing he was probably only sulking because they were not doing it his way, he instead decided to at least enjoy the human battering ram display.

And off she went.

Only, instead of the expected crunch of foot on old, rotten wood, there was a sort of whoosh as Winona sailed in through the doorway accompanied by a squeak of dismay. He might have gone in straight after her, but it had all happened so fast that he was still rooted to the spot. Mercy for the chaktawe perhaps that he had not seen her in her sorry state, ass in the air and arms flapping like a young chick leaving the nest for the first time. He took a minute to allow the crashing to subside, then carefully stepped forward and leaned around the door to peak inside.

Winona was sat up against the wall, tending to a few cuts and bruises. Somehow she had made it to the other side of the room which was no mean feat. His eyes scanned the floor between him and her, noting immediately a rather old and dusty rug that now sat in a pile where her foot had clearly snagged it. His usual look of concentration descended as he moved into investigation mode. It was clear how chaktawe and rug's first meeting had gone, which in turn had led to a quick conclusion as to the means of Winona's relocation to the other side of the room. But one mystery remained as yet unanswered.

Turning to the door that had so gallantly allowed the lady to enter first, he noted with curiosity that there was not a mark at all from the woman's kick. Nor had there been any sound at impact as far as he recalled. The door itself was old and worn, having lived a long life and stood guard for a wide assortment of tenants over the years. There were scratches, scuffs, chips and all manner of scars and tears. But none that bore the mark of a recent kick. It was as if the door had opened by magic.

An icy chill leaped down his spine so suddenly that he actually looked up to see if there was a leak. Followed by a shiver, he took a step back from the door as though it might attack, remembering what it was they were dealing with here. Magically opening doors were one thing. But if this was some mean ghost playing tricks, well then he was just going to get the heck out of there. The compulsion to run was overwhelming, but in his moment of cowardice he noted Winona now picking herself up in the room. He literally forced himself inside the room and shuffled over to her as though expecting something to happen at any moment.

Now it was his turn to offer her a hand. Had she been embarrassed at all, she need not have worried. Sal was to busy gawping off to his left at something, his eyes wide and mouth open. As Winona reached for Sal's extended hand, he unknowingly pulled it away at the last moment, instead placing it and his other hand on top of his head, before shouting something that he had meant to make sense, but instead came out as a sort of strained gurgle.

To Sal's credit, he did not turn and flee the room screaming, though inside he would have opted for that in a heartbeat. Instead, he was rooted to the spot, staring at the ghost of Winston 'Bunny' Bunford, so called by his friends some one hundred years ago for being a talented dancer whose tour de force in local competitions had been the 'bunny hop'. The dance itself had lost popularity some fifty or sixty years ago now, replaced by newer and fancier methods of movement that in turn had come and gone themselves. But Winston was not changing his routine for anyone.

Had Winona turned her attention, she would have seen an ethereal presence watching them, dressed in misty rags that waved slowly as though submerged in water. But that was merely detail. The only thing that really caught the attention right now was Winston 'Bunny' Bunford dancing like it was 414.

[Winona_Heath]

"Winona, the Deaf Spirit" Fortunately for Winona, Sal didn't say a word to her or even utter a laugh. He was too busy staring at the mess she partially caused and studied the door. It really was strange... How the door just swung open by itself. She saw it with her own eyes. She felt herself fly through as the door opened violently so that she'd make a fool of herself. Winona paused and kept pressure on her foot, peering around for the cause of the slight tingle in her fingers. What was that? She knew it could have been Sal himself but it felt more like... More than one person. She shook away the eerie feeling when the pretty-eyed man focused his attention back on her. He slowly approached her with his eyes darting around and offering his hand. She smiled up at him and was just about to accept it before he jerked it away. Winona found herself leaning far forward and slapping her palm on the floor to prevent her from face planting into the splintery wood. She glared up at him. "Why you do that? Not funny!" She growled at him, but noticed that he wasn't looking at her. His attention was drawn to the transparent, glowing person just off to the side of the apartment. The person was grinning straight at them with the most awkward jerking and hopping. What was he even trying to accomplish by this strange ritual. Was he trying to curse them? Her eyes darted to the thief's hands, noticing her special thing crumpled in his fist as he waved around in his little dance. "My thing! Give it back, thief!" She shouted, pointing at the crumpled item in his hand. To Sal, it appeared to be either cloth or paper, but only Winona knew it's special quality inside. She jumped up and started after him, not really caring if the man decided to follow.

[Sal Mander]

The downside to being firmly rooted to the spot was that it allowed a person to take in his surroundings. Had Sal tucked tail and ran, he never would have noticed Winston's attire, beyond the initial appearance of white rags that waved lazily in the air. In fact, they seemed to be made of fine silks and sequins, albeit seen now through a ghostly lens that filtered colors and dampened the sharpness of Winston's image. His shoes were of fantastical and foreign design, looking both exquisite and totally useless for anything other than dancing, or perhaps shuffling around an old people's home. Then there was the hair, the best description for which Sal could find was a dead animal upon the ghost's head. It was just a mess, the sides cut short while on top it stuck up all over in chaotic fashion. It was long in the back, falling just passed the shoulders. It was perhaps a more frightening thing than the ghost itself who, up until now, had continued it's perverse hip pumps and wildly uncoordinated and bizarre flailing of limbs.

Apparently undeterred, Winona pushed forwards towards the ghost, muttering something about her thing. Sal looked from the ghost, then to her, then back to the ghost and finally her again. Are you completely insane woman? It's a..."
"A ghost, yes indeed my good man," Winston interjected. His voice was elegant and showy, better suited to a stage than the dusty confines of an apartment. With ease, the ghost slide sideways as Winona lurched towards him. Like a wisp of smoke, he then glided over Sal and came to land at the far side of the room, keeping his distance from the chaktawe who of course was now behind Sal.

"Your lady friend is quite the beauty I dare to say. Spirited. But then so too am I you could say, hur hur." Winston's laugh seemed to squeal like a small woodland animal, while his pleased grin threatened to crack his face in two, such was the width of it. However, the ghost was dealing with a tough crowd. He would need better jokes than that if he had any hope of making it through this show in one piece.

"Now tell me dear sir, what on all the seas of Mizahar is this visit for?" Sal looked somewhere between confused and angry, his face contorted so that anyone else in the room would likely have given him a wide berth. But it was not anger, merely incredulous disbelief that he was about to embark on a conversation with a ghost, one of the things that terrified him in this world. It was strange in a way, since fear was usually born of a lack of understanding. Sal had read about ghosts. He was more or less a well read man, having had his head in books since a young age. But for all the words and stories on the subject, there was nothing that could undo the work of his brothers many, many years ago. In short, Sal had been the butt of a devious and crawl prank, one that led to his longstanding fear of ghosts. A story for another time though.

"Well..." Sal began, not really knowing if he was asleep or awake right now. Asleep would have been preferable. Then at least this could be chalked down to a bad dream and everything would be fine again in the morning. No phantom doors or dancing ghosts. Or Winona for that matter, a thought that made Sal feel a little sad though he could not say why. So far she had used his face as a doorstop, as well as send him hurtling into a situation that was going to result in paperwork or death. Given the choice, death was a close second. But sad was good. It meant that for a moment at least, he forgot the fear and the ghost, turning instead to see what the chaktawe was doing behind him.

[Winona_Heath]

"Winona, the Deaf Spirit" This man was magic! All her attempts were futile. She felt herself raging much more than usual, mainly because the magic man was simply toying with her as if he were playing keep away. Keep away was a cruel game her siblings did when they took something from Winona and would play and throw whatever item they stole as long as it kept out of her hands. As she kept grabbing at the air out of reach from the magic man, she found herself behind Sal, pausing as she realized they were talking this whole time. What did she miss? Sal certainly looked displeased, causing Winona to crain her head and stare. "Now tell me dear sir, what on all the seas of Mizahar is this visit for?" "What you talking about?" She scrunched up her nose in disgust, eyeing the glowy magic man, trying to make sense of his words. "Well..." She noticed Sal began to speak, pausing to think. Did he always need a moment to think to himself? Wouldn't the magic man find him rather odd for just standing there thinking? She jerked her black hues back to Sal, not that he'd notice who she was actually looking at. Her eyes made it so hard to tell, like a man wearing shades to stare at ladies' feminine parts. She sighed and returned her attention to the magic man. "I not know you, but I know you thief. You stole my thing and I want back. No more keep away, that game not even fun." Winona hastily nudged Sal, as if he were supposed to arrest him or something. When it looked like he wasn't sure what she was trying to hint, she tugged him to lower himself just a little so she could whisper. "Tell him why you hate him. He stole your thing too, right?" An explanation, that's what she wanted him to give the magic man. Maybe he didn't take Winona seriously, but Sal was really tall so maybe magic man would listen to him. Everyone listens to tall people after all. Lorettana was tall! And Winona would sometimes listen to her? Well, not always... In fact, she rarely did. However, that wasn't the point, Winona is Winona, a stubborn female that would not tolerate rule breaking unless she did it herself. Unfortunately, Winona had no knowledge of him being a ghost, especially since she didn't even know what a ghost was. This was probably her first encounter, unless Winona counted little ghosts in her dreams. They weren't significant though, her dreams were more loopy than that. "Now, you under arrest. I think."

[Sal Mander]

Sal had managed but one word before he realized he was just standing there, still slightly dumbstruck at the situation he was in. It was days like this he wished he had just stayed under the covers in his nice, warm, ghost-less bed. But no, that would have been too easy. Besides, what other poor sap at the Cosmos Center could they send instead to get terrorized by a wild chaktawe woman and dancing ghosts? I do not get paid enough for this, he decided.

Having lost track of whatever it was he was going to say, Sal found himself accosted by Winona as she tugged him down to better hear her. At first he had paid little attention to her earlier mention of 'her thing'. But now she was going on about his thing too. He regarded her with a puzzled look, in his head thinking like a typical man that she was certainly a beauty, but also as mad as a box of frogs. He reminded himself to one day visit her homeland, if only to see if she was one of a kind, or if that was the norm.

"What in Dira's knickers are you talking about woman?" Sal asked incredulously, trying to focus on those black orbs that seemed not to focus anywhere in particular. Before he could add more, there was a sudden feeling of coldness as though it had descended on them like a blanket. The hair on the back of Sal's neck stood up and there were goosebumps on his arms. Not that anyway could tell since he was wearing long sleeves, but he could feel them all the same. At that moment, as Sal and Winona were stood facing one another, Winston materialized so that the three formed a triangle of sorts. They both turned to look at him, Sal's face one of shock which seemed to be a regular feature this last hour.

"Well good heavens you two. Why all the fuss? Is this a lover's quarrel? I think perhaps you should kiss and make up, hur hur!" With that his ghostly form went spiraling upwards like a cloud of dust, until he came to settle floating just below the ceiling. "Kiss and make up, and then perhaps we'll see about returning your...thing." To emphasize his point, he dangled Winona's trinket for her to see, though sadly for the chaktawe it was just out of reach.

[Winona_Heath]

"Winona, the Deaf Spirit" Amongst their whispering, Magic man began to speak, catching her attention since he moved around in the corner of her eye. "Well good heavens you two. Why all the fuss? Is this a lover's quarrel? I think perhaps you should kiss and make up, hur hur!" Winona flinched at the salty, uncovered memories. The magic man twirled like a dancer up to the ceiling. Winona feared that he'd disappear again, taking a step forward and not hesitant to jumping and grabbing Magic man's foot to stop him. However he froze, floating in midair. "Kiss and make up, and then perhaps we'll see about returning your...thing." Winona opened her mouth to speak but Magic man began dangling a piece of crumpled paper in his hand right over her. The paper was old and yellowed, with all sorts of wrinkles and stains. One word was scribbled on it, along with wavy lines right under it. "Water..." She sniffed, reaching up to it as if she were a child begging a parent to be lifted up. That was the very paper that started her and her guardian's friendship. When they first met, they had no means of communication. Winona was deaf and only understood the moving lips of Tawna, while Lorettana could only speak Kontinese and Common. The woman was so thirsty, determined to make their language barrier nonexistent. To win Winona over, she took out paper and basically hypnotized the chaktawe with her beautiful line art that was called writing. Water, it said. She played charades to help Winona understand. Once she learned, she nodded, leading her with her fingers to the nearest water source and saved her life. Winona dropped out of her thoughts, glancing beside her to see how Sal reacted to the Magic man's strange request. Her brows raised and knitted together nervously. The very thought of kissing a man made the brave girl so nervous she thought she'd faint right in front of the two. "Magic man," She stumbled over her words, casting over an insecure appearance. "That thing means much to me..." She hesitated, a strange noise exiting her throat without her knowledge. "A-ah... Promise you give back?" The ghost replied with a giggle, his body twitching from the laugher, still teasing Winona with her thing right in front of her face. She clenched her fists together and spun on her good heel (that wasn't stabbed with a splinter) and faced Sal. "I not know how to kiss boy." She admitted, with a slight discoloration in her cheeks. She slowly approached him, stopping only centimeters away. She glanced up at him, her eyes widening, shaking with nervousness. 'Just stare into his eyes. Stare at the colors. Doesn't it look like water? Water is calm, water is good. Let the water calm your body. Just think about water. Once you meet, close your eyes and just imagine the water flowing onto the shoreside. Look how beautiful that is...' Lorettana's voice soothed her mind, as if she was snuggling her and petting her dark, wily hair. She didn't really ask for permission, nor did she plan on asking for permission because of how silly she'd sound to even ask for such a thing from a stranger. Winona's drive for her special thing was extraordinary, willing to sacrifice a kiss for it. She dare not let any memories come in to scare her. Just think about the water. Just think about the peacefulness. She couldn't really keep her heart from beating so fast, it was an uncontrollable thing. However, she kept thinking about the colors and the water while she stood on her toes and pulled him down a little to reach his face. Just a kiss right? She almost lost it when she just so happen to make eye contact with him. She squeezed her eyes shut and thrusted forward, pressing her lips against his awkwardly. Winona immediately pulled away, and hid her reddened face in her hands, her head against the lower part of his chest. Suddenly, she started to hiccup from the stress and embarrassment. "I-I so sorry." A hiccup causing a break in her sentence, her eyes wider than the full moon.

[Sal Mander]

Sal and Winona watched as the evil ghost - or at least Sal believed him to be evil - hovered above them clutching that piece of paper. In doing so, it had triggered the academic side of Sal's brain into gear, which had the habit of doing so at the strangest times. Recollecting passages from books he had read, he recalled how a ghost used soulmist in order to move or even pick up objects. It took a great deal of effort on the ghost's part, especially for fledgling spirits who were new to the whole thing. But Sal feared Winston was no mere novice. He way the ghost clutched that paper suggested he was moving it with great ease, a fact that did not bode well.

While his mind raced with thoughts of soulmist and projection and other ghostly facts and trivia, Sal had not paid attention to Winona as she spoke to the ghost. Before he knew it, she had stepped before him and pulled his head down, (again). Only this time instead of whispering strange things in his ear, she planted a soft kiss right on his unsuspecting lips. Before he could react, the kiss was over, the chaktawe pulling away and burying her head in her hands. A thousand thoughts rushed through his head, among them such as why had she done it, to was it that bad that she pulled away so soon?

But any protestations he might have offered would have fallen on deaf ears, literally. The problem was, Sal was having a rather hard time using his mouth at all. It was as though it was stuck together with some paste or glue, that no matter how hard he tried resisted his attempts to open. He might have put a hand to his mouth, but now his arm was ignoring his pleas to acquiesce to his demands. The worst of it though was the whispering. He had not noticed it at first, distracted as he was by the numbness in his mouth and arm. But there it was, a sickly whisper that carried with it the promise of foul play, oozing into his mind and reeking of demonic intent. At once he was of the mind to scream, though could not. He tried to ignore the whisper, but it grew stronger, talking in a stern voice words that he had never before heard.

Then suddenly his arm shot out to get Winona's attention, before his mouth opened and he blurted out, surprising himself as much as the woman. "Do not be sorry. It was perf.....per.......per...hnnnnnnhhh!! The word fought hard to come out, but realizing that he was not actually speaking them, Sal had unleashed a full scale war on his mouth to cut the sentence off. His mind screamed words of his own, demanding the whisper to be gone. He yelled at it, albeit in his head, and the voice tried to yell back. Begone you wretched ghost. Bastard ghost. Get out. GET OUT OF MEEEEEE!"

Ah yes. That other trick ghosts had up their sleeve. Possession. Again, it occurred to Sal that a ghost of Winston's age might well boast some quite advanced talents when it came to such things. His mind grasped at those old books once more, searching for any notes he might recollect on possession. They seemed not to bring back any conclusive answer other than a ghost could be beaten back out if the subject was not willing. It really was a battle of wits.

As Winona looked on, she would have realized Winston was nowhere to be seen. But perhaps more distracting than that, Sal's left arm and leg were jerking and shaking uncontrollable, forcing him to stagger about while the right side tried to compensate. His face was contorted, as though he was in some kind of rage. The worst of it was his voice. Though she could not hear him, his lips told the story well enough.

"You get out. GET OUT I SAY...or..... I'm going to end you, YOU HEAR ME?! Out! Gaahhhhh!"

[Winona_Heath]

"Winona, the Deaf Spirit" Winona wasn't even sure how Sal would reply after such a random gesture. She only just met him, and she wasn't even sure if he'd be upset or not. When she raised her saucer eyes at him, he only looked completely and utterly shocked. Nothing on his face could determine what he thought or felt at all, just pure shock. Winona figured that he didn't think her thing was as important to her as he thought. Either that or he honestly missed what magic man had said in order for her to get her thing back. Speaking of magic man, he owed her a thing right this minute. She rubbed her eyes, snapping out of her fluttery, nauseous state. It wasn't that she hated men or found them strange, but she never really had a man figure that wasn't a part of her family. She never really learned how to interact with men outside her family either. She knew that when a woman found the right man, they would mate but she didn't understand the concept. How do people mate anyways? Was it the gesture she just did? Was she going to get pregnant? Winona didn't feel fluttery anymore, just extremely nauseous. No, no, no, she is too young for mating! Don't faint, don't faint. Winona spun on her heel to face the magic man. She had done his favor, and now he had to give back her thing. Maybe after that he could be arrested. Arrested for theft and assisted rape! I-If that was a real thing that is. "Now, give it-" She jerked her head back and forth, where did magic man go? Winona felt like she was going to cry. He promised! He promised her! Winona sucked in a breath, trying not to scream. Her face started to turn purple, having some sort of mini-tantrum. Who in the world breaks promises?! Promises are sacred and important! If promises are broken left and right, what is the point of making one? Winona felt that she may have been too trusting towards the thief. She should have known better than that. She could imagine Lorettana yelling at her now. That woman would never learn to keep her voice in. She was deaf after all, why did she feel the need to yell? Suddenly, Sal's hand started to wave beside her, she turned back to him. His movements were jerky and foreign, causing Winona to raise an eyebrow. "Do not be sorry." He started to say, his body stiff. Her saucer eyes were back, along with deep reddened cheeks. "It was perf... per... per.... hnnnnnnnhhh!!" He looked so stiff, a vein popped up on his neck. Winona jumped back, startled and tempted to punch him right in the jaw. What the hell was wrong with him?! He looked like he was constipating, but constipating on his words. He twitched a little bit, his lips trying to move but forcing them closed. Just then, Sal's limbs on the left side started to swivel around in a seizure like movement. Winona started to back away, jerking her head side to side for something that might be able to help her situation. He was crazy, he was going to attack her! She had to defend herself! Before she could grab a nearby rotting chair, she caught his lips moving again, sending chills down her spine. "You get out. GET OUT I SAY...or..... I'm going to end you, YOU HEAR ME?! Out! Gaahhhhh!" He started to twitch and jerk again. Was he telling her to get out? She'd be glad to run off, but the only thing that kept her feet planted was the hostage of her thing. Where was magic man? Putting two and two together, she realized something... The paper was in HIS hand, the same hand that magic man had held it in. M-Magic man was INSIDE him! What does she do? What does she do?! Winona panicked, pointing at him with her mouth hanging wide open. "Magic man controlling you! What I do?!" She bumped into the rotting chair. Winona grabbed it, lifting it by the leg and back. "I use this if not come out, magic man!" She barked at Sal, shaking as she clung to the chair.