29th of Fall, 520
The sun was just beginning to lazily crest the distant horizon, clearly visible throughout the whole city due to its lack of walls. Large Sunberthan rats scampered away from the light as if it burned, kissing at their tails. Merchants were beginning to populate the marketplace, blearily rubbing the sleep out of their eyes and letting out large yawns, preparing for the coming day of ‘sales.’ Faint scuffles could be heard breaking out as a few of the merchants had to beat a sleeping stranger who sought refuge in their stall or some of the rats that infested the city with a broom. The city was beginning to wake up...or fall back asleep depending on the person’s choice of career. What mattered was a small number of people were beginning to walk the streets, seeing what the nightly activities had spat up. And spat up something the City of Anarchy did, signs of late-night violence could be seen in back alleys, cast aside blades, ominous splatters of blood, and even a few bodies crammed into uncomfortable crevices. The dress-cloaked, red-haired ghost drifting down the street in the dawn light was the first to see most of the evidence of the night.
“Gods damn. Just what did you do to deserve that you poor bastard?” The ghost crouched down in a nearby alley, the fabric of her dress fanning out around her, red locks spilling to one side of her head from its curious tilt. The ‘poor bastard’ in question looked to be a sickly man who must have weighed ninety pounds sopping wet, raggedy, faded clothes covered their form. She reached a slender hand down and tried to wipe their face unconsciously, attempting to slough off some of the dried blood that came from the many slashes on his face, and the mouth that hung opens tongueless. Of course, being dead, when her hand came into contact with the man’s flesh it broke apart into a swirl of white, gossamer mist, forming back into some semblance of a translucent hand when she pulled back. “Judging by your missing a tongue I’d say someone let something slip they shouldn’t have huh.” Alice spoke in a soft voice, almost expecting a response, “Maybe you should have hung on and come back like me. It’s not all bad. It has its perks...But also its determinants.” A melancholy sigh. “I am working on fixing some of those issues, in ways you probably wouldn’t appreciate.”
She rose silently, brushing a hand over their bloodied cheek while siphoning off a bit of her shroud, breaking it apart in gossamer threads, spinning it around their body, wrapping it tightly around their torso, and beginning the long, arduous process of pulling the body slowly along the ground, strings straining under the weight of the man, constantly snapping and having to be reformed. “You all get buried in the outskirts, right? Something called the Dust Pit? Yes, I think that’s right.” Looking up from the body being pulled along the ground and the distance she had to travel she just knew it was impossible. “I don’t know how far I am going to be able to take you but...if I was stronger I would just float you there but I’m not. Hence me searching for other methods you see.”
The sun was just beginning to lazily crest the distant horizon, clearly visible throughout the whole city due to its lack of walls. Large Sunberthan rats scampered away from the light as if it burned, kissing at their tails. Merchants were beginning to populate the marketplace, blearily rubbing the sleep out of their eyes and letting out large yawns, preparing for the coming day of ‘sales.’ Faint scuffles could be heard breaking out as a few of the merchants had to beat a sleeping stranger who sought refuge in their stall or some of the rats that infested the city with a broom. The city was beginning to wake up...or fall back asleep depending on the person’s choice of career. What mattered was a small number of people were beginning to walk the streets, seeing what the nightly activities had spat up. And spat up something the City of Anarchy did, signs of late-night violence could be seen in back alleys, cast aside blades, ominous splatters of blood, and even a few bodies crammed into uncomfortable crevices. The dress-cloaked, red-haired ghost drifting down the street in the dawn light was the first to see most of the evidence of the night.
“Gods damn. Just what did you do to deserve that you poor bastard?” The ghost crouched down in a nearby alley, the fabric of her dress fanning out around her, red locks spilling to one side of her head from its curious tilt. The ‘poor bastard’ in question looked to be a sickly man who must have weighed ninety pounds sopping wet, raggedy, faded clothes covered their form. She reached a slender hand down and tried to wipe their face unconsciously, attempting to slough off some of the dried blood that came from the many slashes on his face, and the mouth that hung opens tongueless. Of course, being dead, when her hand came into contact with the man’s flesh it broke apart into a swirl of white, gossamer mist, forming back into some semblance of a translucent hand when she pulled back. “Judging by your missing a tongue I’d say someone let something slip they shouldn’t have huh.” Alice spoke in a soft voice, almost expecting a response, “Maybe you should have hung on and come back like me. It’s not all bad. It has its perks...But also its determinants.” A melancholy sigh. “I am working on fixing some of those issues, in ways you probably wouldn’t appreciate.”
She rose silently, brushing a hand over their bloodied cheek while siphoning off a bit of her shroud, breaking it apart in gossamer threads, spinning it around their body, wrapping it tightly around their torso, and beginning the long, arduous process of pulling the body slowly along the ground, strings straining under the weight of the man, constantly snapping and having to be reformed. “You all get buried in the outskirts, right? Something called the Dust Pit? Yes, I think that’s right.” Looking up from the body being pulled along the ground and the distance she had to travel she just knew it was impossible. “I don’t know how far I am going to be able to take you but...if I was stronger I would just float you there but I’m not. Hence me searching for other methods you see.”
