Open Cheers to new beginnings

[Jomi]

Spring 22, 521AV

Lhavit, the city of stars and scholars, was unrecognizable as Syna set and the reception began in earnest. People flooded the streets. Trading their prim and modest robes befitting a noble Dusk wedding, for garments of silk and satin embedded with sequins and stones that shone like the stars they worshipped. After another dark, cold winter the promise of a night of indulgence proved too tempting for some.

And nowhere was the air more thick with revelry than in Surya plaza. Brightly coloured lanterns lined the open space, cutting great swaths out of the darkness and adding to the festival like atmosphere. Musicians could be heard playing hearty upbeat ballads about lovers and heartbreak while magicians and artists demonstrated their skills and slight of hand to astonished and vocal crowds. Colorful banners and sparkling gowns swept over the open space as the live music coaxed the partygoers into an inebriated dance. A talented fire breather spat flames above the crowed to their roaring approval while prostitutes from the Red Diamond wearing little more than a smile merged seamlessly with the crowd and coaxed lonely souls away from the party.

And tucked into the corner, teetering at the edge of the crowd and just out of reach of the lamplight a full sized, fully stocked bar was laid out across the empty cobblestones. The rough unfinished oak countertop bore no brand and advertised no shop or business. If someone were to ask the revealers they'd ponder for a moment before remarking that the nondescript bar had just sprouted from the ground like a weed. The warm dark wood seemed to soak in the light, shining a fiery red and illuminating the selection of spirits whose bottles clanked with every movement of the rather boisterous barkeep.

"WINE, ALE, SPIRITS OF ALL KINDS! A COPPER EACH! COME HAVE YOUR FILL! "

Jomi, brash, carless and wearing his most charming smile and convincing materialization, danced around the bartop holding a wooden bowl. The few coins inside rolled and clinked merrily as it was swept out towards the crowd invitingly.

The wide grin split his face as he emptied the contents of another bottle of mystery liquid into the hefty pitcher that stood front and center of the modest bar. "It's free if you're cute!"

The ghosts eyes flashed mischievously in the firelight. It was his Masters wedding tonight. Madeira was now officially the wife of the Dusk heir and a member of Lhavit's ruling class. With all the power that comes with the title casting a net of protection around her lowly undead servants. And what was the point of that protection if he couldn't use it to coerce a few drunks out of their coin at an unregulated bar? Sure, the Kelvic ghost couldn't read the spirits labels or taste the contents but why would that matter? It was all just rotten fruit juice anyway, Jomi had mused privately.

A few heads turned towards his dramatic display, regarding the nondescript bar with curiosity as they drifted closer. Jomi eyed them hungrily from his perch. He didn't need them or their money. He was situated in the home of a master spiritist, he could come and go as he pleased and never had any need for material items. But over the passed seasons a growing emptiness had gnawed deep inside the old ghost. A hollow ache for something the ghost couldn't identify, like a piece of him was missing leaving a void that needed to be filled. It was tainting his every thought.

But perhaps these naïve fools had that something he needed.

The ghost was careless with his movements, making only a token effort to hide his undead condition. The Dira stone imbedded in his palm pulsed a dull red in the dark feeding its power into his materialization. But the stone couldn't hide the way his realistically scuffed and worn leather boots made no sound as he jumped off the bar top. Or the way his body didn't bend with the force of impact when his weightless materialized body hit the ground. Or the fact he was still conscious after having been so close to the fumes emanating from the now brimming pitcher.

In a flurry of motion the ghost produced a clear crystal glass and a tray of garnishes. Tipping the pitcher with great effort he managed to splash some of the torrent of brackish liquid into the vessel and topped it with a green sprig. Jomi presented his masterpiece with a flourish, whipping around and presenting it to the closest patron with a big toothy grin.

"it's my own special blend."

Secret :

Bar in a bag

[Baiya]

22nd of Spring, 521

Baiya didn't often take time for herself. It was a strange sensation, but having a quiet night almost felt like work. After all, her career was in relaxation and self-care. What really felt like a treat was a good old-fashioned wild party. She wanted friends, music, and a little too much booze, and that was exactly what Baiya intended to find herself tonight.

Her purple velvet wrap was draped over her shoulders and tied at her neck despite the relatively warm weather, and she had purchased a white satin dress for herself just for the occasion. She had done her hair up in braids the way Afwen had shown her and though it was messy, Baiya had mused to herself that it might add to the charm. She had come out with friends to hear some bards play, and while it was satisfying, what she needed now was...

"WINE, ALE, SPIRITS OF ALL KINDS! A COPPER EACH! COME HAVE YOUR FILL!"

Onlookers seemed to have mixed reactions to the salesman. Some moved closer, cautious smiles lining their faces as they eyed the bar. Others had a greater suspicion toward the cheap spirits, and hurried past. Baiya had no second thoughts. She hummed merrily to herself as she approached, waving goodbye to her friends as they carried on. Don't mind if I do!

On approach, she noted that the bartender seemed half-drunk himself. He waved a near-empty bowl of coin at the attendees, moving himself to some music she couldn't hear. When he was done with his jig, he slipped to the ground and sloshed a pitcher about. There was something about the way he jeered, or the way he moved, or perhaps the way he spoke that didn't sit right with Baiya. But so far it was nothing a cheap drink couldn't fix. She moved closer.

He was trying to market a pungent drink to some patrons. "It's my own special blend." He persuaded. Now that was a red flag; her mother had taught her that much at least. She wouldn't be buying anything in a glass from this man.

But despite the decisiveness in her head, she hesitated, her hand on her bag. Drinks were five times as much elsewhere, and she had already bought herself the dress. She didn't have much more coin with her to blow for the night.

Well, what's the worst that could happen? I mean, really?

Baiya reached into her bag and pulled out a coin to wave in the air at the bartender. "A wine, sir? A dark wine, preferably?"

[Jomi]

"A wine, sir? A dark wine, preferably"

"Sir?" Jomi's eyes slid towards his newest patron. A pale hand waved in the air clutching a shiny copper coin could be seen perched at the end of his bar. Honorifics were something foreign to the ghost who was much more accustomed to such titles as 'creature', 'bastard' and 'getoutofmyhouse'. He couldn't hide the smug satisfaction on his face at having been addressed so formally.

"I couldn't accept payment from such a pretty little thing." Jomi abandoned his sales pitch. Thrusting the glass of mystery juice into the confused arms of a young human man as he made his way down to his new customer with a renewed spring in his step.

Jomi gave her a once over as he approached. Small, slight, human, with a mess of braids coiled tightly around her head. Her pale skin and eyes were washed out by the glossy white dress which cut a harsh silhouette into the press of bodies. A purple scarf thrown over her shoulders added a splash of colour while fitting in with Lhavits more plain and subdued evening wear.

Or perhaps Master Madeira's eccentricities had forever destroyed the Kelvics sense of fashion and decorum.

Turning towards the shelf of spirits Jomi's searching eyes landed on the darkest bottle. A spirit so dark it appeared black. Grabbing it by the neck, Jomi spun around and brought it down on the bar between himself and the woman with more force than necessary. The decisive bang sending a rattle though the drink ware.

"Actually, I have half a mind to gift you this entire bottle." Jomi mused giving her his sweetest smile. Which didn't quite match the nefarious glint in his eyes. "But I'm going to need something in return."

The cogs in his head spun wildly as Jomi plucked another thin stemmed glass from beneath the bar. He figured he could have some fun with this. The woman appeared to be alone and ready for a good time, hooked by the promise of cheap liquor. He was curious as to how far she would go for that good time. But he'd have to start off small, as to not scare her off.

Jomi clumsily pulled out the cork and splashed a bit of the dark spirit into the glass. Only enough for a mouthful or two. With his fingers pinched around the stem Jomi rested his elbows on the bar. Closing the space between them and tilting the glass tauntingly towards her. The dark contest swirled around the base showing the barest hint of a blood red along the edge.

"First, I'll have you blow me a kiss." Jomi caught the corner of his lip between his teeth and bit down teasingly as one pitch black eyebrow arched up. "In the spirit of Love day and all."

"Hey!, you said this shyke was free-"

"If you're cute." Jomi hissed. His lips pulled back to show a flash of white teeth to a short, fiery Inarta woman that had the audacity to interrupt them. "You are not cute. In fact it'll be an extra copper for having the nerve to show your ugly mug."

At the other end of the bar, the young naïve human boy whom Jomi had thrust his concoction on gave a short shrill laugh. His face split into a confused smile and an alarming shade of red before tripping over nothing and landing in a crumpled heap still clutching the empty glass.

[Alice Weaver]

Marriage. Such an odd thing really. Alice had never given it much thought herself. And even though she was of age and should have been looking for suitors before she died, she never did. Perhaps it was because she was busy with weaving in the dark bowels of her family’s business.

That never did leave a lot of time to galivant around Syliras and meet dashing young men who could sweep her off her feet.

She couldn’t tell if she was jealous of Maderia for the briefest second or even more frustrated at her untimely death. Just look at what she was missing, the Spirit thought to herself!

The plaza was flooded, as were the streets. Everyone and everybody was out to celebrate this special wedding. The ghost didn’t even have to ask for direction to where the wedding and reception would be taking place. All she had to do was follow the music, raucous laughter, and flashes of light from over the skyline. Sure, she didn’t follow the streets and just took a straight line to where she needed to be, surprising a few passersby along the way, but that wasn’t her issue in the slightest. All they could have possibly gained out of it was a small story about how a ghost woman with red hair, pale skin, and a black dress came this close to touching them and freezing their arm off or something.

No matter the few startled folks she left behind in her wake she couldn’t argue with the speed she reached the plaza and almost instantly regretted her choice.

“Crowds. It’s always crowds…” She grumbled from a side alley that was less densely populated as she recalled her last disastrous attempted to walk in a crowd, shuddering slightly at the distant feeling of having her form constantly disrupted and scattered. “No matter. It’ll be fine. Just...walk.” She assured herself as she watched the dense, grinding crowd shift and dance with one another. “...maybe a few blinks.”

But before she could even enter the crowd it was only polite for a woman to dress the part correct? Alice looked at her ethereal hands and willed them to become more solid and for her body to follow suit.

It took a moment of intense concentration before the flow began, like the returning tide, as soulmist swept out from her core. The wave of soul-stuff wrapped around her arms, legs, and torso as it folded over itself, one, twice, then hundreds of times. The normally ethereal material taking on the illusion of flesh, dark red hair, and flowing black fabric of a well-crafted dress. The illusion was in no way perfect and her lack of confidence with the skill shining through with her distorted edges as if a careless artist smudged the charcoal of a drawing. The slight headache of holding some semblance of mass already bloomed beneath her forehead as she took a few careful steps into the plaza, slotting herself between the people the hung around the edge.

“WINE, ALE, SPIRITS OF ALL KINDS! A COPPER EACH! COME HAVE YOUR FILL!”

A voice boomed out from a close corner. Curious to who would call out, Alice jumped in the air and hung with her head above the crowd for a brief moment. She caught a glance of a bartender with a wide grin on his face who stood on his table before they jumped down, seeming to become engrossed with a customer who wandered up.

Well that seems interesting. She thought to herself as she drifted and blinked her way over, proud at herself for moving through the surging crowd without touching anyone, having skipped from open spot to open spot.

She emerged to the side of the open bar just in time to listen to the bartender chat up a girl, pour a drink that looked like it was used to pave streets, ask for a kiss and insult a customer all in the same breath.

Before asking for a drink she in no way could consume, she instead planted herself at one end of the wooden bar while she rested her chin on her hand, letting red hair spill to one side of her face that held a small smile with her blurred form.

The spirit was interested to see if the woman would drink the free booze. It wasn’t too much of a concern to her if a stranger got drunk or poisoned. No matter what happened it would make the night all the more interesting.

[Baiya]

22nd of Spring, 521

"Oh." Baiya whispered to herself as the bartender pulled faces and sneered about his 'return'. "I see."

The bartender was much more than she had bargained for. He was charming, of course, but the way he layered it on was sickly sweet and the veneer was lost just as easily on patrons that were less...interesting. He did not hesitate to show his fangs. However, she could not deny that it was flattering to be one of the chosen ones. The way he favored her with his attention was intoxicating on its own. In this manner, she had almost talked herself into trusting him.

She leaned forward onto the bar, offering a small smile. It had been a long time since she had felt brave enough to flirt with a stranger, usually preferring a deer-in-the-headlights approach, but something about the "Love day" as he had called it, gave her a shot of confidence.

"Just blowing a kiss is worth more than a copper? I'm in the wrong profession!" She teased. "Or maybe you are. But who am I to question your business model?"

Baiya winked and smacked her lips in a mockery of a kiss as she reached a hand out for the glass. Just as she was about to grab it, the faint thud of a body hitting the ground stopped her in her tracks. Her head whipped around to see the boy crumpled in a heap on the ground. The people around him either moved in a wide berth or squatted to check on him, depending on their own levels of intoxication. Baiya recoiled from the glass as if she had been burned.

"Is he okay?" Her voice pitched higher as she sat frozen watching his face turn the color of bruises. "What shyke did you put into that?"

Then, the realization dawned on her, and her skin began to crawl. She swiveled to point accusatorily at the glass of wine. "What did you put into that? What are you trying to pull?"

She shoved against the bar, pushing away from it and crossing her arms. "Maybe I should just find someone to take me to a reputable bar." She glanced around briefly, then nervously added, "Or to walk me home."

[Jomi]

Just blowing a kiss is worth more than a copper? I'm in the wrong profession! Or maybe you are. But who am I to question your business model?"

"No it's real, see?" Jomi, the bluntest instrument of destruction, rapt the butt of the bottle against the countertop with an oblivious smile. "Not a model."

While his simple badger brain was momentarily stumped by professional jargon Jomi's ears picked up a chorus of uneasy murmurs and chattering teeth emanating from the other end on his bar.

Jomi noticed the somber, wild haired ghost that hovered near the counter. The other patrons were sure to give the spirit a wide berth, clearing a ring for her to get out of the range of her freezing mists. Her materialization was shaky, the woman fell in and out of focus but there was the barest spark of familiarity in the new ghosts grand dress and the slant of her narrow calculating eyes.

Oh, shyke.

Jomi didn't know her. But he knew who might.

He had spotted her once around Infinity's grounds, but had always chosen to slip by unnoticed by the fellow spirit. It was a rare sight to see a ghost get so close to an Eyon. As Dira's mark and the aura that emanated from it had a tendency to repel any ghostly visitors. Which would mean that she was there for something beyond a friendly chat. He was sure the Master would be opposed to Jomi hustling at her wedding reception. And the last thing he needed was one of Madeira's pets tattling on him.

"What did you put into that? What are you trying to pull?"

Jomi snapped back to the present to see an accusatory finger jabbed at the wine in his hand. People around the pair began to whisper more earnestly. The ghost could hear their mummers of the suspiciously cheap wine, the sketchy unbranded bar and the bloke on the ground who may or may not be dead.

"Maybe I should just find someone to take me to a reputable bar... Or to walk me home."

This seemed to strike a cord with the rest of the patrons. A couple people broke away to find more savory businesses. A few seemed to hesitate, weighing the pros of cheap booze with the cons of possibly being poisoned. And a few more seemed ready to offer to walk the young woman home, although not necessarily to hers.

Sound whistled out of Jomi's clenched teeth as he wracked his brain for an out of this mess. The maybe, possibly spy and the rightfully suspicious woman were on the verge of ruining everything for him. He needed a way to play off the humans suspicions while keeping the other ghost from alerting any possible spiritists.

"Ah yes, there you are! Assistant."

Jomi abandoned the human woman and the wineglass and march himself to the end of the bar to stand in front of the wild haired ghost. His arms sweeping over her in a grand display. The only way to protect himself from the consequences of his actions were to make sure this new ghost was implicated in them as well.

"The Dusk tower chose this delightful day, a merging of powerful families with a rich history of spiritualism, to show you the possibility of a peaceful coexistence between us...air breathing....skin havers. And our dead brethren." Jomi stumbled through the adlibbed speech. Thankful for the first time since his death for his inability to sweat. "In fact it would be very bad if one were to cause a fuss or run away. Because then we'd have to sick an entire tower of spiritists on them." Jomi hissed out the corner of his mouth, his eyes regarding the new ghost cooly.

"A toast!"

Jomi directed a beaming smile out to the crowd. Fishing a ladle out of a drawer Jomi dropped it into his vile pitcher and pulled out the ladle brimming with the brackish liquid.

"To the Dusk family!"

Throwing back his head the ghost tipped the ladle over his lips and let the liquid fall harmlessly through his materialized mists to be soaked up by the hungry earth. Giving his best satisfied sigh before tossing the ladle and pumping his fist enthusiastically to the raucous cheers of the few patrons he had left. "Now lets DRINK!"

"Except for that guy." Jomi added gesturing to the human still on the floor, groaning and clutching his stomach. "He's had enough."

The other patrons having been sufficiently distracted Jomi focused his attention back to the ghost. "So, my implicated assistant." Jomi beamed an oily smile at the ghost, urging her to play along for both their sakes. "That lady over there didn't get to enjoy her drink. Hold the glass steady and I'll pour the wine."

[Alice Weaver]

“Ah yes, there you are! Assistant.” The bartender called to Alice.

“Wha-?” Her confusion was cut off as they just about swept over and swept their arms around her in a grand gesture. He then went to prattle on about some delightful day of spirit and living man blah blah blah. It seemed shaky and forced to Alice.

He’s covering his ass? Was the question she thought to herself. She’d seen it enough with the few kids in Syliras that got their hand caught in the cookie jar, both literally and metaphorically.

“In fact it would be very bad if one were to cause a fuss or run away. Because then we'd have to sick an entire tower of spiritists on them.”

She blinked. Was she just...threatened? Who is this person who is apparently poisoning people with bad booze, an adermiable goal, and then turns around to threaten her! She was just enjoying the show is all! No crime in that was there?

While she was mulling over the thoughts and how she should react he called out about a toast to the Dusk family and pulled out more tar posing as alcohol to take a draught. From her close position to the man she could watch the liquid pass through those life-like lips and...splatter on the floor below.

Oh! They were as dead as her it seemed and passed the time by getting people drunk? Maybe that was what the odd threats about the spiritists were. Mutually assured destruction? Once again her musings were interrupted by the other ghost who turned an snake oil salesman grin on her.

“That lady over there didn’t get to enjoy her drink. Hold the glass steady and I’ll pour the wine.”

He was trying to rope her in for whatever reason...well she had nothing better to do with her time at the moment so she may as well play along.

Alice painted a servant girls smile on her face, one borne of practice through selling fabrics in Sylias, and swept behind the bar next to her ‘employer’.

“Yes, Sir!.” She spoke with a chipper attitude and did as she was told, pinning down the wine glass with a few strands of soulmist as she ran her hand around the stem, getting the physical contract she needed, before turning to the woman she was serving ‘wine’.

“I’m terribly sorry if he served you something awful. He’s a bit of a collector you know. Wines and alcohols from all over! Some are quite good.” She smiled before leaning over the bar to whisper in Baiya’s ear. “But between you and me most are shyke. He just likes to collect them. His taste went a long time ago, some sickness or something. Very sad.” She finished with a somber tone before pulling back. “No matter! We’ll get you right fixed up with some normal stuff. Right, Sir?” The jovial tone coming back as she sharply jabbed at her employer.

[Baiya]

22nd of Spring, 521

Everything he did was quick. He was a fast-talker, of course, but he was equally quick at navigating and working. He managed to rally the crowd back together with a quick toast, a reminder of why they were all here, and Baiya had to admit that seeing him scoop a ladle from the pitcher for himself did something to patch up her nerves. He wouldn't poison himself now, would he?

She moved back toward the bar, sidling up to her prior seat. Oh, I've been so rude, She realized as the man continued about his work. She watched from a distance as he greeted a woman and warmed her up to helping him. Though she couldn't hear over the sounds of the bar, she knew they were discussing her as the bartender pointed in her direction. I should tip extra to make up for the customers I scared off by raising such a fuss.

It was only when the pair moved closer that Baiya realized just what was off about the situation. The woman who held the glass steady was fuzzy at the edges, as if she might fade into the background if given time. Her skin was pale and her motions too fluid to be natural. Baiya had never truly seen a ghost up close, but if she were to make a guess, this woman was exactly what they would look like.

Surprising even herself, the fear did not overwhelm her. Maybe, as before, she was feeling particularly bold from the festival, or maybe she didn't fully believe her analysis of the character, or maybe she was drunk off the fumes from the bar. At any rate, when the woman leaned forward to speak, Baiya leaned in conspiratorially. As she listened, her eyes bounced between the two behind the counter. The pieces slowly fell into place in her mind as she reasoned her way through the interaction.

So he's a Spiritist, then, working with a ghost? Oh, I bet he works with Madeira! She said she was marked by Dira and did that sort of magic. Damn, and now I've been rude to him on her wedding day! Baiya clucked her tongue, both at herself and in response to the assistant's explanation.

"I would love some of the, uh, normal stuff." She agreed, a tad sheepish. "It doesn't take anything fancy to please my tastes!" Baiya offered a small wink to the assistant, as if they were in on the joke of humoring the man.

She leaned back on her seat a little, her tense muscles relaxing bit by bit. She rested her hand on the bar in a lazy reach for the glass of wine.

"Oh, and do you go by just 'Sir' and 'Miss'? Just in case I need something more later, you know? While we're at it, you can put my tab under Baiya."

[Jomi]

“I’m terribly sorry if he served you something awful. He’s a bit of a collector you know."

Jomi sat back and listened to his new unwitting assistant as she improvised on the spot like a true professional. She was a truly talented liar. Jomi shivered to think of who she learned that from.

“No matter! We’ll get you right fixed up with some normal stuff. Right, Sir?”

While he might have been dumber than a bag of bricks Jomi wasn't so thick as to miss the mocking tone in the ghosts voice. She could bring down his illusion in a instant and she seemed eager to get that point across. But as long as she was willing to play along Jomi would have his fun too.

"Oh, and do you go by just 'Sir' and 'Miss'-?"

"-Yes." The ghost cut the human woman off in his eagerness and beamed, his ego inflating to dangerous levels. "You may call me Sir, and this is.."

Jomi stumbled on his words as he gestured over to his co-conspirator ghost. Urging her to fill in the blank.

"While we're at it, you can put my tab under Baiya."

"Bai-ya" Jomi sounded out the syllables slowly, committing them to memory. "And what brings you to our humble establishment Baiya? Come to escape all that Love day nonsense?"

Jomi moved as he talked to the women. Serving the rest of his patrons with a combination of artful bluffing and unearned confidence. As the more experienced ghost Jomi took it upon himself to lift and maneuver the heavier items while coaxing his ghost assistant into handle the stirring of drinks and placing of garnishes. His confident projecting and materialization allowed him to deftly pour random liquids into mugs and glass. Serving his patrons with only a few stained robes and indignant cussing.

"Love is for children and fairytales." Jomi mused bitterly. Thoughts of his Masters sham wedding to that oblivious Dusk heir ricochet around his head. "I mean, everyone is ready with an 'I'll love you forever' on the tip of their tongue but how many actually mean it?"

"How about you?" Jomi jabbed his impressively solid digit at the ghost woman. "When was the last time anyone has visited your grave? I'm sure someone told you they loved you before you came back. But how many of them cared when you did."

[Alice Weaver]

“Anastasia is my name. Don’t wear it out by sayin’ it too much. Call me Annie.” She beamed at Baiya, continuing to look busy serving her a drink. She listened to the other ghost be bitter about the world and serving people mixes that would make the Goddess of Death look on with horror.

“But sir! Love is wonderful and epic!” She gushed. “The prince that woke the sleeping bride with a kiss, fought monsters with nothing but their fist and heart. They say you can survive a blizzard of sharp ice and biting winds if you just hold the one you love fiercely in your embrace. The heat of the heart keeping the danger away!” Apparently ‘Annie’ was a helpless romantic, ironic considering Alice never really saw the point in marriage.

She then got an impressive materialized finger jab at her and she took a few breaths to admire the materialization and shift her mists every so slightly to try and copy it, for the brief second looking more solid before it escaped her. She pouted glumly as a result of it not being ‘that easy’ and utilizing the facial expression to strengthen her mask of Annie.

“Sir. You know I fell off a mountain. No one is visiting my grave anymore...kinda hurtful for you to bring that back up like that you know…”

She crossed her arms and quirked an eyebrow at the other ghost, taking a defensive stance. “And yes. I had people who loved me. I was about to get married I’ll have you know. But now I have to settle for things like this. Where I get to watch people live out my own dream.” She sighs wistfully as she leans her chin against her hands, leaning against the bar as she watched the people dance by. The ghost purposefully forgetting the drinks to watch the other ghost struggle to get to all the guests.

“Are you going to get married anytime?” Alice asked excitedly leaning towards Baiya. “Oh, I hope you do! Cause then we’d have another bar to tend and more weddings to watch and more people to meet! And maybe if we get enough money we could buy a pony! Every good outside bar needs a stubborn and smelly pony, right?”

Ok. That might have been too far but most ghosts were crazy so it’s probably not a weird thing to say. Really she said it to piss of her employer as she toed the line with breaking their weak cover. Here she was thinking this wedding night would be boring...but it’s Maderia when is it ever boring?