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.
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.