Restless Spirits (Autumn Rose)

Jomi wants to show Autumn just how fun being dead can be

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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Restless Spirits (Autumn Rose)

Postby Jomi on December 22nd, 2019, 6:09 am

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16th of Winter, 519AV

"No really, its fine- I'm fine. I'm just here to...observe."

Jomi's posture was stiff and closed off, his hands clasped the opposing arm tight as he awkwardly sat as far off the edge of the plush chair he could. He wore his full materialization with the help of the Dira stone. Which made him seem just as real as the flesh for sale. The soft low light in the Red Lantern cut dark lines on his furrowed brow and reflected off the long dark stands of hair that flowed loose down to the centre of his back.

Evidently the prostitute pawing at him was so preoccupied with her seduction that she failed to notice what the illusion of the stone couldn't hide. Like how Jomi was perched atop the cushions instead of sinking into the fluffy down. Or that his body lacked the heat that radiated off the bodies of the other more receptive patrons. And he was determined to have it stay that way. The living had a inexplicable revulsion to ghosts, even peaceful ones, and he didn't need dirty looks or the calls for a spiritist ruining his good time. The corners of Jomi's mouth drew down as his searching eyes scoured the shadows while simultaneously thwarting the attentions of the prostitute that insisted on invading his space.

Across the room a dark, towering human manning the bar could barely be seen in the low light, but Jomi didn't miss the withering look shot to him out of the corner of the man's eye. Jomi had declined the bartenders offer of a drink, and was now was rejecting every advance of the brothels many attractive and eager employees. It cost money to take up space in a place of business, and Jomi was sure he was about to wear our his welcome. Jomi returned with a scowl of his own, he wasn't ready to leave just yet.

He had been sent by Madeira to check up on a haunting she had failed to exorcise. He was instructed to observe the property surrounding the Red Lantern, note any odd or malicious happenings and report back immediately. He was also explicitly forbid from entering the building under threat of a souldart to the face.

That had lasted all of about two chimes before he had entered the brothel out of sheer boredom in search of this elusive ghost. Any spirit that could spite the prideful Craven was one worth meeting. And besides, what the spiritist didn't know, wouldn't come back to shoot him in the face.

The only problem now was how he was going to find the damned ghost.

There were ways to spot a hidden ghost. Like a cold spot, or a disembodied smell. All of which required senses the ghost no longer had. A dematerialized ghost was completely undetectable to another ghost. Which meant his only option was to find any trace of the ghostly presence and hope they could be convinced to make themselves known to the brazen intruder invading their haunt.

"You sure you don't feel anything?" Jomi pried the prostitute, desperately. "You don't feel cold or watched or...anything?"

A woman wearing nothing but gold paint and a smile made another attempted brush of his thigh. She stretched herself out on their shared seat to bridge the hastily constructed cushion barrier that separated them. Only for Jomi to inch himself further away to dangle precariously off the edge of his seat. The prostitutes resulting sigh managed to walk the line between playful and dejected.

"No need to be so shy, dear. I won't bite." A mischievous glint flashed through her eyes as she trailed her finely manicured nails through the valley between her breast. "That costs extra."

The very direct and forward flirt elicited no reaction from the ghost. Leaving his flesh behind at the moment of death meant he was devoid of the hunger and lusts that controlled that flesh. Much to the chagrin of the one attempting to seduce him. Jomi was much more focused on the draped fabrics and the shadows beneath than to the scantily clad bodies that slid past them. But that didn't seem to bother the gilded woman, if anything, it made her even more determined.

"Now that you mention it." The woman smiled greedily as she drew her legs underneath her. "I am cold. Why don't you warm me up?" Jomi made to move out of her reach again, but the woman wasn't backing down this time. She used her legs to extend her reach, propelling herself forward to drop her torso fully into his lap.

It took less than a second for the freezing soulmist to penetrate the woman's unprotected skin. A sharp yelp, much louder than she likely intended, cut through the hushed din of the parlour. She launched herself off of the ghosts lap with the agility of an acrobat.

"What the petch", the woman yelped crudely. Breaking the cool, dignified character she'd been playing. And the bartender, finally seeing an excuse to evict the stingy customer, reached beneath the bar.
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Restless Spirits (Autumn Rose)

Postby Autumn Rose on December 28th, 2019, 1:55 pm

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Autumn was spending time her usual way, at least the usual way when Gweneveh was busy with a lover. She was down in the open, welcoming front room of the Lantern peoplewatching. She hadn’t thought that a single place could keep surprising her day after day the way the Lantern did, but every day, Autumn saw something new, something different. Whether it was the way the brothel workers presented themselves (and they could get creative) or the requests a patron came in with, there was always something to catch her attention and, more often than not, hold it, at least until the sex itself began. Watching in the front room was the furthest her voyeurism ever went, but she always found something good to watch. Last season, it had put her in the way of a fist and set her on the path to engaging in a fight with another ghost. In the end, Autumn had come out victorious, but she always did. Maybe it wasn’t right away, but given time, which she had plenty of, she found a way to come out on top.

Tonight, she had positioned herself above the bar. There was a reason the bartender and the bouncer were one and the same. He had one of the best views in the house. From his vantage point, he could see nearly everything, though there were secluded nooks here and there that were meant to keep all eyes away. It was meant partly for his benefit but also for the benefit of business. Those who had come seeking liquid courage before they dared approach the prostitutes merely had to turn around to survey the room for who it was they wanted for the bell or the night or whatever time they so chose to spend. Yes, the bartender’s view was great, but having no body meant Autumn could hover even higher and had an even better view of the room.

Her particular excitement for the night had come in the form of a handsome stranger. He was powerfully built with a frame athletic and lithe meant for hard work. His high cheeks and long black hair rounded out the picture, and Autumn had to admit, if she had the body to drive her lust, she would have after him. As it was, he made for prime watching. At first, it was just to marvel over how well put together he was, but the longer Autumn watched, the more she found other reasons for the watching.

The most interesting of these came with the advances of the Lantern’s denizens. Apparently, Autumn wasn’t the only one to have noticed the man’s more lust-worthy qualities, and though they were in the business of selling flesh, the workers of the Lantern were as much in the habit of selecting the flesh they wanted to serve. Several women had already made a pass at him and had been shrugged off. They had taken the hint and let him be, but not all of the Lantern’s workers knew a dead end when they saw it.

Aurelie was still young and didn’t have the wisdom of experience to tell her to give up, but she shouldn’t’ve had to anyhow. Tonight, every part of her was gilded in gold, the miracle of some body paint she had recently obtained. All about the Red Lantern, Aurelie was known for her work with makeup. Any time a girl was expecting a major client, they let Aurelie work her magic, and any time that happened, there was a shiny kina to be made from the results she achieved. Tonight, Aurelie hadn’t left a single part of herself untouched by paint, every inch of skin and every hair, every curve and every nook accented with different hues of the color with hints of silver carefully interlaced. Only the whites of her eyes and her teeth showed, accenting the smile she wore for the new man’s sake.

But he, for his part, remained uninfluenced by her charm, his arms crossed to stave off her advances. He was uninterested, and Autumn couldn’t figure out why. Sure, Aurelie was being pushy, but Autumn had seen much worse. Perhaps it was the man himself. Autumn had seen first timers before, virgins and the awkward, shy and unsure of how liberal they could be with where they placed their hands, but this man didn’t strike Autumn as that type. Perhaps then it was something wrong with Aurelie, not so much her specifically and the flesh that she was offering but that it was a woman doing the offering. The newcomer didn’t strike her as having those fancies either; he hadn’t spared a single glance for the gentlemen workers of the Lantern either.

And then Autumn realized what she should have realized all along. He hadn’t spared a single glance for any of the workers. What he was looking for was not flesh and pleasure for sale but someone specific. If she had hackles, they would have raised. If she had flesh, it would have crawled. Autumn had heard Gweneveh and Belladonna warn the newer workers of people like this, people seeking dirt on others, ones who would blackmail their clientele. The Lantern prided itself on tight lips.

Aurelie was too busy trying to prove she was better than everyone else at the Lantern to see it, so Autumn began to watch. Across the way, she couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she could tell he was asking questions. The closer she watched though, the more she could tell that it wasn’t things he was looking at. Rather, it was at the space between things. More and more, something felt off about him and his presence.

And then it happened. Aurelie, desperate for his company for the night, slid into his lap and sank into his body. Not against. Into. There was no flesh there. Even as Aurelie yelped and shoved herself away from him, her hands sank through his body until they found purchase on the cushions beneath him.

A ghost, and a powerful one at that. It took immense skill and concentration to hold a materialization with that much detail for that amount of time. Things were beginning to make sense now, but a creature of his strength needed to be addressed with caution. He was strong and could cause significant harm if he so chose, and his purpose here was still uncertain. Still, a fellow ghost. Someone who shared the torment she did, even if it was in his own way. Autumn needed more company, friends.

She was unsure of how to take things from there, but as she hemmed and hawed, she noticed the bartender shift at Aurelie’s cursing. He intended to get rid of this newcomer, and that was something Autumn couldn’t have. Materializing in the shelf of wine bottles as brightly as she could, Autumn caught his dark eyes with her blue ones and nodded to an empty room off the side of the sitting room.

Then, she mustered mist into her palms, placed them against the backs of two bottles, and forced the projected mist against them. The bottles only shifted a small amount, so Autumn gathered even more of her mist together and tried again. This time, the bottles tipped forward, reached a point of no return, and cascaded off the shelf. Not wanting anyone else’s attention other than the ghost, Autumn blinked away before the bottles smashed on the floor and hopefully drew all the focus that had been on the man and Aurelie to the racket and mess at the bar.

Two blinks found her in the center of the room, generously materialized as well as she could be, waiting for the arrival of the other ghost. She hoped he came. She was equal parts excited and wary. Ghosts were often unfriendly beings, but this one had shown no signs of hostility and had practiced patience in a way she had seen very few do. In this short time, he had shown he was practiced in the art of people, reading them, tolerating them, using them. It reminded her of someone else she knew, but Autumn couldn’t place who.

She waited for him, but there was no smile on her face. Though she was in the habit of appearing amiable, she wanted him to know her trust wasn’t his just yet.
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Restless Spirits (Autumn Rose)

Postby Jomi on December 29th, 2019, 2:20 am

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Oh shit.

All eyes were on Jomi now. The yelp from the guided prostitute, who stood before him naked, shaken and clutching herself where his mist had burned her, had drawn an accusatory eye from every warm body in the room. The ghost had nowhere to go. No exit plan that didn't involve outing his undead condition and the risk the employees alerting the spiritist waiting for him of his whereabouts. Jomi hissed low and hard, nervous fingers drummed soundlessly on his thigh as the creases of his forehead deepened. Pinned by their stares in the centre of the room, Jomi could do nothing but watch as the bartender drew a short billy club from beneath the bar. The ghost was impervious to physical weapons, the heavy club would pass through his just as easily as it would the air. But the soul dart waiting for him if Madeira were to find out where he'd been would hurt. Just the thought of staring down her silver crossbow made him shiver. Unfortunately the Kelvic ghost was about as intelligent as a bag of bricks, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk his way out of this.

A flash of blue above the bar and a subtle nod from his saviour was all the warning he got before he saw the bottle dance their way off the ledge above the bar and shatter. The explosion of glass in the quiet room sent a jolt through the hearts of all that heard it. And for a split second the eyes peeled off him and glanced at the bar at the front of the whorehouse.

Jomi took the gift for what it was. Grinning wildly, he bolted from his seat, twisted himself past the guided woman and threw his materialized body behind a pillar and out of sight before dropping the materialization completely.

The ghost vanished with a puff of air and settled as a shapeless mist. Panicked murmurs could be heard in the adjacent room as prostitutes and patrons glanced about for the troublesome stranger. Jomi had to rein in his more self destructive impulses as the bartender, still touting his weapon, stomped past him.

The ghost, gleeful and energized by his narrow escape and the successful hunt for the resident spirit. Picked his way over to the side room he'd seen the new ghost disappear to and creeped inside.

Inside he saw the ghost, a woman, with a tall slender build and piercing blue eyes. The red lanterns that were a staple of the whorehouse washed the room in a dim glow that served her shaky materialization well. The darkness made the colour she forced outward to appear brighter and the lines of her body smoother. She stood in the centre of the room, dwarfed by the four post bed that dominated the space. With sheer curtains drawn back to display the wine red silk sheets and the leather belts knotted onto the headboard. Dark, rich wooden tables lined the room with an assortment of the tools of the trade artfully laid out on top.

Jomi stitched himself back together, forming his mists back into his preferred shape of his younger, lither self. The stone in his palm glowed brighter as he forced as much power out of it as he could to supplement his own. He purred mischievously as he looked her up and down. Jomi wanted to show her his full materialization, as a show of faith. A ghost could only interact with the world when materialized, but likewise, that was the only time the world could interact with him. A full materialization was when a ghost was the most vulnerable.

Jomi drifted over to the nearest table. Ropes and harnesses, phallic objects and things with exposed cogwheels and turnkeys that Jomi could only guess at to what the purpose was were displayed proudly. Jomi pulled his latent power into his hand and picked up a corded leather handle that splayed out in the end with multiple black leather bands bunched together like a child pompom toy.

Jomi turned to face the ghost, shaking his new find at her like he was scolding a naughty puppy.

"There you are, cheeky little voyeur." Jomi teased, his face split into a wide grin. His pointed canines flashed in the light as he gave her another once over, waving his leather toy down the length of her body. "You have any idea how long I've been looking for you?"

She really was a sight for sore eyes Jomi mused. With narrow, delicate features and porcelain skin, even with a lacklustre materialization it was clear she'd been a beauty in life. And her actions at the bar suggested that she was self aware enough to know she was dead. Unlike their more delusional brethren. And had the capacity to reason and think ahead. He expected nothing less from the ghost who escaped Madeira.

"You did save my ass back there, so I guess I owe you one. How about we crash this party and I take you somewhere more...disturbance friendly?"

Now that he had her Jomi wasn't going to let her get away easily. New experiences were rare in their undead state, and Jomi was itching to get out from under the heel of his strict, oppressive Master and cause havoc. And a fellow ghost was just the right kind of company to do that with.
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Restless Spirits (Autumn Rose)

Postby Autumn Rose on January 7th, 2020, 1:53 am

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Something about the ghost seemed off. Not off in the way that meant he was dangerous, though she had no doubt he was that too, but off in the way that said he understood the world differently. It was a different she had seen before, the same different Maro had displayed. This ghost hadn’t been human in life, not completely. He had been Kelvic.

As he drifted across the room to a table of “torture” implements, the newcomer materialized fully. It could be taken one of two ways. It could be a show of strength, or it could be a sign of good faith, that he was making himself vulnerable to her. Something in the depths of her soul chose the latter.

When he brandished a whip at her, Autumn couldn’t be sure if he even knew what it was for. Furthermore, she couldn’t resist the urge to flood her cheeks with a materialized blush, and a bashful smile crossed her lips. He had given her no reason, but she liked him. Something about him and the way he sought a good time said she should.

What he said next changed her mind. “You have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?”

Looking for her? Suddenly, everything began to make sense. She had caught him looking at the spaces between spaces, where nothing should exist. The only thing that existed in these places was nothing. Nothing and ghosts. Nothing and her. Who would be searching for her? And why? How would he even know to look here?

And then little Emma’s voice came to her in a memory. He’s a lout, but he’s our lout.

Jomi? It had to be. The fear that had risen melted away. Madeira was making good on her promise to keep an eye on her, and Autumn was not disappointed by this. In his brief interaction with her, Jomi hardly seemed a lout. He had exercised restraint and patience and exhibited a focus few ghosts could present except in cases of revenge. Jomi had no revenge to exact, not on her, and so Autumn found his presence a comfort. And in his comfort and his search for a good time, Autumn had to admit his next proposition was tempting.

“How about we crash this party, and I take you somewhere more… disturbance friendly?”

Autumn was hesitant. Causing trouble was a good way to get on Madeira’s bad side, and the last thing Autumn needed was Madeira keeping her on a tighter leash, keeping a closer watch on her, but she was so bored of being pent up in the Lantern, watching people and wondering who was going to petch who next. Jomi was offering Autumn something she hadn’t had in a while. Causing trouble was a good way to get out.

She smiled, though she was careful not to let any aberrant emotions, any of her scattered and unrelated thoughts, enter into it. Kelvics understood facial expressions differently than people. Maybe not so much differently, but they seemed to read into them better than most, considering they communicated more through them than they did by other means. The smile that came to her lips was her best smile, the one that always seemed to calm Maro when he was frightened or agitated.

“Introductions are hardly needed. You already know who I am. No doubt, Madeira told you about me. And I think I know who you are, if Emma’s chattering made sense. Jomi. If what Emma said was true, you’re far from Madeira’s favorite. That makes two of us.”

She pondered his question a little more, her brows knitting pensively. “I like the sound of getting out, but a girl doesn’t manage to do that much with spiritists keeping her holed up in her home. I wouldn’t know where to begin.” Her smile became mischievous. Jomi, whether he intended it or not, whether or not he even knew, had a magnetic pull about him. His want for a good time became others’ willingness to join in. Most days, Autumn was the voice of reason, but today, a little something different sounded nice. Besides, what was the worst that could happen? They were both already dead. “What’s the best in Lhavit to cause a ruckus?”

Autumn began walking toward a wall, not drifting like many of her dead brethren. It was a habit she had kept from life. There was the gentle, dancing gait and the sway of her hips. She knew the dead’s desire for lustful pleasures was nonexistent, but she enjoyed attention when it came from those she felt safe around. A small part of her didn’t know whether she should feel safe or afraid. But she wanted what he was offering. The more she thought about it, she needed it. She had spent too long in fear, self-loathing, and sadness.

She needed some smiles, real ones, and Jomi seemed full of ideas to bring them. Heading for the wall once more, Autumn hoped he would join her at her side or take the lead.
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Restless Spirits (Autumn Rose)

Postby Jomi on January 19th, 2020, 6:59 am

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“Introductions are hardly needed. You already know who I am. No doubt, Madeira told you about me. And I think I know who you are, if Emma’s chattering made sense. Jomi.

Jomi's huffed as his dreams of unfettered anonymity were crushed by a dead, chatty eight year old. He'd have to have a serious talk with the child.

Jomi studied the women's materialized form. There were no marks or injuries manifested on her soulmist and no signs of illness either. How she presented herself gave no hints about who she was or how she died. Madeira, if she knew, wasn't forthcoming with that information when she'd sent him to watch Autumn. As curious as he was, Jomi resisted the urge to ask. There was no point bringing up old painful memories on a night like this.

"If what Emma said was true, you’re far from Madeira’s favorite. That makes two of us.”

"That's good company to be in. We should start a club." Jomi teased, his smile turning wolfish.

His own materialization started to fade as he released the energy keeping him visible like steam escaping a kettle. Now that introductions were over, there was no need for him to exert himself. He'd might as well conserve his energy.

“What’s the best place in Lhavit to cause a ruckus?”

Jomi's narrow black eyes drifted downward as he watched the woman saunter out through the wall, he didn't miss the way her hips danced as she faded out of sight. She liked to show off; not that Jomi was complaining. In fact the sight brought a new vigour to the storm of soulmist that spilled out from the ghosts form. After all this time spent as an outside observer of life, constantly dismissed by the living and look down on, and if he was acknowledged it was only to express pity or fear. He relished the show that was being put on just for him. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to be wanted.

Jomi's dark lips parted in a wide lopsided grin showing an unsettling about of teeth. "I'm glad you asked. But first, we need to make a detour. "

The ghost peeled himself away from the woman and disappeared into the decorative foliage that lined the front of the brothel. When he reemerged he had a rough and worn leather saddlebag draped over his arm and a small jade Okomo figurine clasped in his hand. He placed the figure on the ground and tapped its head smartly.

"Awake."

In a tick the artifact had expanded a hundredfold, towering over the human and Kelvic in a stone approximation of a full grown Okomo.

"Autumn, meet...I don't know, never gave it a name." Jomi slapped his hand on the back of the expressionless beast and threw over the saddlebags with a grunt. "Alright, let's see what kind of trouble we can get into."

....

Raucous laughter drifted onto the street from the sliver of light beneath the Obsidian clubs door. The Tavern was bustling tonight. Many had flocked to the conspicuous black spyglass building to warm their bellies with ale on the frosty winters night. The bartender prepared drinks with flair while barmaids wove expertly between the long oak tables. An animated busker played a lyre on the stage, plucking the strings competently while singing raunchy ballads to the delight of the audience.

Jomi scanned the tavern with a critical eye. The skyglass city had a more prim reputation than the hulking blue men in Riverfall, and apparently that stereotype extended to their drunks as well. While plenty were downing mugs of ale with ferocity, most instead nursed their glowing snowberry cocktails. Not one of them were the sloppy, stumbling 'prime possession material' types. It would seem the owners ran a tight ship, the ghost mused dejectedly.

Jomi listened to the myriad of voices as he scrubbed his hands over his translucent face as if the friction would dislodge an idea. He had promised his companion a good time and a good time she would get. But how to go about sowing the seeds of chaos was something that took carful consideration. You couldn't just go in and start throwing hands. Not when there was a spiritist about. He had to consider the catalyst and fallout to his actions. There was an delicate art to being a public menace.

That and Jomi desperately wanted to impress his new friend.

Jomi stepped back through the wall of the tavern, leaning back on his heels and letting himself drift back to his green stone mount. He flipped open the saddle bag with an irritated grumble and plunged his hands inside, emerging with a dagger, a long knotted stick and a cloth bag. If there were no sloppy drunks they'd just have to make one themselves.

"So Autumn," Jomi turned back to his companion and waved the silver Starfire dagger invitingly. "How would you like to earn us some coin?"
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Restless Spirits (Autumn Rose)

Postby Autumn Rose on February 13th, 2020, 2:40 am

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“Awake.”

Autumn had seen her fair share of miraculous things. Hai, she had met a Goddess face-to-face and had lived in a city plagued with illusions, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be astounded, that she couldn’t revel in the amazing things the world presented to her. As Jomi tapped the figurine’s head and spoke, the creature suddenly swelled until it became a life-sized, stone Okomo. Wonder, perhaps learned for Maro or perhaps the wonder Maro learned his from, blossomed in her bright, blue eyes, and laughter bubbled up, deep in her chest, spilling out before it could even make it up to her mouth, as if some pupe from a wall were bursting at the seams before it could reach its outlet. Though the laughter never reached her lips, her smile carried its joy in it and spoke so much of it that it seemed present there as well.

“Autumn, meet… I don’t know, never gave it a name.”

“No name? That’s a shame. We’ll have to change that before the night is done. We can’t leave such a handsome beast without a name. After all, he’s the third best looking one here.”

Autumn gave Jomi a smile that might have meant something, or maybe nothing, and with a quick fling of projected mists, Jomi had tossed the saddlebags over their nameless friend’s back, and the two were on their way.

Soon, they found themselves outside of a building Autumn had never encountered before, not that that was a rare occurrence. Autumn had lived most of her existence in Lhavit as a shut-in, and she hadn’t been in most of the buildings. This one, though, she had heard of. Often times, the girls from the Lantern who were struggling to pick up customers would come to the Obsidian Club to poach their drunks and wring their last remaining coins from them. It was perhaps a cruel and shrewd business move, but Autumn knew none or close to none of those leaving the Red Lantern the next morning regretted how they’d spent their night and their money.

This, this was prime territory for making trouble, and Autumn was determined to be a troublemaker tonight. This was a place of joy. The laughter, the music, and the animated conversation spilling through the doors and windows said as much, and for a small moment, Autumn felt a flash of guilt for coming to disrupt the night. But that guilt was short-lived. She was here to have fun, and if they had the right kind of fun, those who were the target of it could have a laugh at it at a later time.

Drifting through the wall following Jomi, Autumn took in the surroundings. It was a tavern as every tavern should be. Long, heavy tables stained with spilled drink and merriment were lined with chairs and benches, most of which were filled by merrymakers, and barmaids twirled their elegant dance between them all to ensure alcohol was always flowing. There was a bar and a stage, and the artists there worked their various arts. Glowing cocktails seemed to flit off the bar as quickly as the words spit off the singer’s tongue and the notes flew off the strings of the lyre.

She was nearly so lost in the good time being had that she missed Jomi’s frustrated gesture. Nearly. But her eyes were always returning to him, some curious magnetic draw keeping her coming back, and so she saw it. Not wanting to be caught catching his frustration and disappointment, Autumn blinked back out through the wall and waited for his return. He came shortly after, grumbling to himself as he sifted through the stone Okomo’s saddlebags. The things he emerged with hardly seemed the tools necessary for a good time, but he had been this longer than she had, this being making trouble and having a good time, not existence.

Autumn was pretty sure she had him beat on that end. She was certain she was older. There were times she felt infinite, and there were times she felt ancient. There was a difference between the two, a huge difference, insurmountable by any comparison of the two. Ancient was weary, tested by the crushing tides of time only to be found broken. It was a thing that had survived the world a long time only to find that the world wasn’t survivable. Time eventually took everything. But infinite? Oh, infinite was a wonder to behold, to experience, a thing full of life and vitality and energy. Infinite was unbreakable. Today, she was feeling infinite, and she wasn’t about to let anything get in their way.

Jomi motioned her over with the dagger. “So Autumn, how would you like to earn us some coin?”

Autumn took on a mock offended tone, but the smile she tried to hide said she was anything but. “Jomi! Are you asking me to proposition someone?” She walked over to him, her smile breaking through as she was unable to hold it back any longer. “I only kid. It would be nice to think I’d be capable o that, but I’m pretty sure anyone could see right through any materialization I could offer to what I really am.”

She shrugged. “Still, coin is hard to come by, being dead and all. I’m interested. What do you need me to do?”

Autumn desperately wished she could contribute something monumental to this night, but she knew she was an amateur at this art. Any idea she had would likely just spell disaster for them and not the fun kind. Any fun would have to be started by Jomi.

“I’m afraid I’m not gonna be much help when it comes to starting things, but if you show a girl a good time, she’s bound to jump in.”
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Autumn Rose
Even weightless, I'm a burden.
 
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Restless Spirits (Autumn Rose)

Postby Jomi on March 10th, 2020, 8:51 pm

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“Jomi! Are you asking me to proposition someone?”

"Well you were doing such a fine job of it earlier, Miss Voyour." Jomi teased, his body bent forward and his smile turned wolfish as he pinched the handle of the dagger. Allowing the liquid silver blade to sway like a pendulum before the mockingly scandalized ghost. "You had no qualms about distracting the muscle in order to invite a strange man into your room. Or did you forget?"

Jomi straightened up and pulled back from her space. Smiling a shit eating grin as he waved off her self deprecations with a dramatic sigh. His chest mimicking the rise and sound although no air passed the ghosts lips. This was a night for fun, celebration and chaos. Self deprecation had no place outside the obsidian club, on a cool mid winter night with a jade goat, a armful of dangerous artifacts a half baked plan and only the gods to listen in on the musings of two suffering dead.

"It'll be fine, just stay out of sight and follow my lead."

The cloth bag hit the stone cobbles with a suspiciously hefty thunk although the bag deflated and settled as it it were empty. The knotted stick and dagger were tossed to the side as Jomi knelt down to focus his concentration on the unassuming cloth bag. His mists smeared over the knotted drawstring, leaving a pearlescent sheen before the the soulmist soaked into the fibres and vanished. Allowing the ghost to unknot the bag with more dexterity than his otherwise erratic mists would allow. As soon as the string loosened the large sack burst open as if it had been straining with pressure. Jomi's eyes shone greedily as he leaned back on his heels, giving the artifact a modicum more room to unfolded. In the space of a single tick the square of cloth settled with one last rush of air that set the weeds to dancing- revealing a full sized, fully stocked bar laid out across the empty street.

The drinkwear chimed merrily as Jomi rooted around the dark oak draws. The ghost muttered to himself under his breath, running through the list of tools he needed. A wooden mug was the first to be collected along with a bottle of ruby red wine, each one the ghost carefully juggled in the cloud of his soulmist. Finally the ghost snatched several handfuls of leafy drink garnishes from a silver tray which were immediately stuffed them into the bottom of the mug.

With all his ingredients collected Jomi motioned to Autumn triumphantly, calling her over to the manifested bar. The ghost talked excitedly as he knelt down to poke around the base of the long wood cabinet that held a rack of liquors, his idea coming together as he spoke.

"Now, I need you to use those voyeuristic abilities of yours." Jomi smirked up at the ghost woman as he pinched the corner of linen cloth that stretched out under the wood. "Go in the club and find a group of three or four who are sitting together. People who are young and foolish, playing with cards or dice." Jomi pulled the cloth taunt and began drawing up the ends of the cloth bag. The bar warped as the space folded in on itself. The chimes of the disturbed glass and the creak of settling wood could still heard as the ghost brought the ends of the sack together and used the soulmist soaked sting to tie it closed and seal the bar back into its compact space. "Make sure you're not seen, and then meet me back here."

Jomi straightened up and blew the woman a kiss from the corner of his smirking mouth as he drifted back towards his stone mount.

Jomi deposited the wine and bar bag into the large saddlebags that hung off the jade Okomos back. The creatures cold, empty eyes followed the ghosts movements as Jomi floated back onto the street and snatched up the stick and dagger from where he'd left them at Autumn's feet.

Jomi crept up to the Obsidians bar door and dematerialized. The ghosts pseudo body fell apart piece by piece. Starting from his head the ghosts form disintegrated as he released the energy and concentration that made him visible. Once the ghost was no more than a formless mist he pressed himself against the silver doorknob. The worn handle shone brighter than than the stars, kept slick and polished by the sleeves of the regulars. Jomi's mists contracted around the handle, pressing it from all sides before turning downwards and letting the mechanism pop open.

Light, heat and sound spilled out from the crack in the door. It radiating out onto the street where Jomi slid his unmaterialized mist, cradling the stick, mug and starfire dagger, around the frame of the obsidian bars door and pressed himself and his treasures tight against the wall.

"Morwens frosted tits!" A human boy, barely twenty winters old, lurched up from his seat. The table full of snowberry drinks teetered dangerously from the sudden movement as he kick the door closed with the heel of his slipper. His teeth clenched theatrically to the snickering approval of his drinking buddies. Jutting out his chin and showcasing his wispy blonde, translucent whiskers. "Keep the door closed, Vagik! Or pass around something harder to chase this chill from my bones."

Jomi's eyes landed on the loud, unassuming human as the boy slid back into his seat with his back facing the door. His Lavithian robes scandalously parted as he slouched back in his chair revealing the prize underneath.

The peculiar dress of the mountain people, with their weird flowing robes secured by sashes, never made sense to the Keneshian born Kelvic. Perhaps it was the constant vigilance of the Shinya that made them so complacent. Or their remote mountain home that left very few places for a thief to run to. But the fact that they'd tie their coin purses around their belts and sashes rather than in the relative safety of the coats and pant pockets that were so popular in other cities made them tempting targets for any thief that knew what they were doing.

Jomi, however, didn't know what he was doing. He had been a pickpocket in a past life, but that was back when he had hands and the sense of touch. Now as a spirit he was opting for trial by fire. Not that he was in danger, the consequences for a misbehaving ghost were zilch as long as they didn't stay in one place too long.

The ghost crept under the blonde mans seat and slowly slid his unmaterialized mists up and across the hem of the mans plain, worn robes. With the touch of a feather the ghost raised the wooden mug. Now heavily padded with soft flower petals and mint leaves he'd procured from his pop-up artifact, and manipulated the coin purse until the heavy sack rested inside the wood.

If Jomi had breath he would've held it. His mists tensed and stilled and tensed again like the gnashing of nervous teeth as Jomi secretly gave thanks that a ghosts palms couldn't sweat. Above him the blonde haired man talked animatedly to his mates. Pausing only to drink deeply of his ale and gin and completely oblivious to the presence under the table. Nervous hands crept the Starfire dagger across the taunt fabric on the hanging pouch. The threads that held the leather pouch together was thinner than the rope that secured it to the mans sash. It would take less pressure to cut, the ghost reasoned desperately, pulling whatever knowledge he could remember from his very distant past.

Carefully dragging the point of the knife across the seam of the purse, the ghost watched the fibres of the thread snap, revealing an ever widening wound stuffed to the brim with silver and copper. Jomi carefully lowered the mug as he cut, giving the coins room to slide out of the purse and into the bed of cushioning greens.

Once the coin had been liberated the ghost drew back his mug sharply and raised the knotted stick. Drawing it along the split seam. Jomi watched in fascination as his handiwork was deftly undone by the unassuming twig. The torn seam knit itself together as if rewinding time leaving an brand new, untouched, albeit lighter, coin purse.

Armed with his mug of stolen coin the ghost gleefully slithered back across the floor of the club. keeping low and shielding himself and his stolen treasures in the shadows of tables and legs. Jomi twisted the door handle open and quickly drew himself and his artifacts around the corner and out of view of the bars patrons.

"Someone fix that PETCHING door!"
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Jomi
One more day would have been nice
 
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Restless Spirits (Autumn Rose)

Postby Autumn Rose on April 18th, 2020, 1:45 pm

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Jomi’s joking mood continued, and that was something Autumn was eternally grateful for. Partying, troublemaking, mischief. Those were things she hadn’t participated in since she had died, but here he was, offering her a night full of nothing but that and stifling any doubts and insecurities as he did. Jomi was good for a good time. Even better, he was good for a dead girl’s spirits. Even if he hadn’t been offering a night of destruction and chaos, he would have brought a smile to her face.

“Follow my lead.”

Once again, wonder lit Autumn like the dawn. As the knot fell free from the drawstrings on the bag, it burst open, swelling in an instant to become a full-sized bar, fully stocked with drinkware and drinks. An itch leapt into her mind, the shadow of a memory of a taste. Something in her remembered the glorious burn of alcohol, and if she had a mouth, it would have salivated. As it was, the desire for alcohol’s warmth built in her. There were many things she missed about being living. The abandon of drunkenness was only one of them. There were many things she missed, and many more she wished she could have shared with Maro.

She pushed him out of her mind. Sorrow had no place on this night. This was her and Jomi. This was about chaos and a good time. This was about abandon and the infinite. Tonight, they were all those things, and Autumn would be damned if she was going to let her past interfere.

Smiling, she watched Jomi as he shuffled through the bar grumbling to himself and gathering the things they would need for causing trouble. She didn’t care what they were, only that Jomi knew what he was doing with them. He seemed happy with what he found and waved her over. The Kelvic ghost laid out his plan, finishing with instructions not to be seen and a kiss thrown her direction.

Whether or not he was watching or could see, Autumn didn’t know, but she materialized a blush with a rush of color to her cheeks. Only the bright blue of her eyes and the shadow of night would be able to make the change unnoticeable if he was watching. Part of her hoped he was, and part of her wished he missed it. He was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, and she wasn’t sure what to think of it all. All she knew was she wanted to enjoy tonight.

As Jomi made his way toward the door of the bar, Autumn took the more subtle approach of the wall. No one expected anyone to enter by way of the wall, and so her arrival into the bar went unnoticed. It was busier than most hangouts Autumn had ever frequented, even in her younger years. The Obsidian Club was nearly packed to the brim, and in her watching the entirety of the place for ideal trouble, it would be easy to make a mistake and be spotted. However, it was a busy night, and no one would be watching the periphery of the bar. Everyone’s focus would be on their comrades, and if anyone did spot her, they would likely chalk it up to wishful imagination. Confident of that, Autumn maintained a shimmer of materialization as she hugged the wall, half in and half out. She had always found it easier to watch the world if she was a part of it, materialized, that was.

Ephemeral eyes scanned the club’s crowd, enjoying the people watching. Most were revelers and drunks, stumbling through life’s mess to get from one island of inebriated forgetfulness to the next, but there were others interspersed. There were, of course, the bartenders and barmaids, those who were fixtures of the club itself, and the entertainers couldn’t be forgotten, even in the general hubbub. There were the solemn few who had come to drink to forget, forget something, whatever it may be, though Autumn knew most of those were either heartbreak or loss. Even a few of the Lantern’s workers were here, poaching what customers they could.

Of all the people in the Obsidian Club tonight, though, the lovers were Autumn’s favorite. They were a rarer group, a few couples tucked away against the side of the club to find a modicum of privacy and relative silence where they could whisper sweet nothings in each other’s ears. All of them looked in love, but one in particular caught Autumn’s eye and her affection. Though they sat at a table with a host of what had to be friends, they were obviously a couple with the way his arm wrapped around her shoulders and she leaned her head against him half asleep from whatever wear the day had brought. Seeing how tired she was the entire table talked in hushed tones, but at one point, he said something about her. A smile broke across her lips, the same lips she then pressed to his cheeks before changing her position to press against him even more. In turn, his arm squeezed a little tighter, holding her even nearer. Autumn missed touches like that one.

Autumn resolved that she wouldn’t tell Jomi about the two. There was no need to ruin their night for a good time. Plenty of others were here that would do just as well for that or better. She shook her head and changed her focus. She had a mission, though it hardly felt like that. It was her part in the fun. They needed targets, people who were unaware enough to be easy game. How had Jomi put it?

Young and foolish.

There was plenty of that here. Bars, taverns, clubs. These were the places that spawned idiocy. Even the wisest and most intelligent weren’t immune to stupidity, especially when alcohol was involved. In her time, Autumn had watched respected members of the community become the town laughing stock, even if for just one night, due to the liquid’s effects. She was fairly certain there was a night or two she couldn’t remember where she was the one being laughed at.

Young and foolish? About three quarters of the patrons at the moment fit the bill on that, but Jomi had wanted more.

Playing with cards or dice.

That made sense. If there was a game at hand, it would serve as a distraction and something to interfere with. All sorts of madness could come from gambling. People got crazy when it came to their money, and messing around with that could definitely get trouble started. With that in mind, Autumn drifted around the room, eyes open for the signs of gambling, a relatively clear table with piles of money and drinks kept close at hand to allow the game to take place at its center. Of course, dice and cards also tended to give that away. These tables were fewer and far between and easy to spot.

The first table Autumn came to she eliminated right away. Sure, they were a small group playing cards, but that was the only requirements they fulfilled. Cards weren’t a game to these three men. They were a way of life, and all three were serious codgers, their drinks just an afterthought, something to wet their lips as they thought their bets through. They definitely wouldn’t do.

The second was more likely. It was a large group of laborers and sailors probably come up the mountain after a long day of work to relax and blow off steam, though the snow had slowed much of the working done about the docks. They were young, all men in their prime, and drunk and boisterous, all dozen or so of them invested in the game of dice being played between them. Despite some of the wagers being put up, there was no sense of us against them. Despite some being sailors and some being dockworkers, there was no division in their ranks. They intermingled without any thought that any such loyalties should exist. While they seemed drunk enough to fit Jomi’s plan, whatever that may be, they were too large a group. So much could wrong, and all it took was one watchful eye to catch whatever shenanigans Jomi intended.

One more group remained. There were four of them, three men and one woman. The three men were playing dice. One of them, the man rolling and betting seemed to be having all the luck in the world or none of it at all. Autumn couldn’t quite tell which. His rolls were perfect, but he was drunk. Occasionally, as he celebrated a good roll, he would miss one of the other men reaching out to bump the dice, knocking them over one more time. When his eyes returned to the table, his confusion was evident as he saw he had not rolled what he had thought he had.

The woman for her part was there for their attention, draped over the dice roller’s shoulders, but she was smarter than she let on. It didn’t take her long to spot the cheating, though it did take her longer than Autumn, and she was about to say something when one of the cheaters held a finger to his lips and winked. She winked back and joined in on their fun, badgering the losing man as to why he could keep thinking he was doing so well.

Seeing what she needed to see, Autumn blinked away, soul sailing through bodies and walls until she was waiting outside. She only beat Jomi out by a few ticks, and as he brought his mug to the more secluded area around the corner of the bar, Autumn told him of the three groups she had seen. Opening her mouth to ask Jomi to leave the lovers be, she thought better of it and closed her mouth again, listening to whatever plan he had while she peered into the mug to see what he had found. Drawing attention to the couple would only pique his interest in them. If they ended up catching his attention in the bar, then Autumn would do what she could then to mitigate the damage.
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Autumn Rose
Even weightless, I'm a burden.
 
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