Richie Gecko (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hornrims) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
box_network2015-05-07 07:24 pm
hornrims) wrote in box_network2015-05-07 07:24 pm
text
Something's coming. More than what they're telling us.
The animals are scattering. They can smell the scent of a storm and would rather hurl themselves into oblivion than meet it.
We may not have until June.
The eye looks directly downward, ready to be swallowed into the earth. It knows too.
The animals are scattering. They can smell the scent of a storm and would rather hurl themselves into oblivion than meet it.
We may not have until June.
The eye looks directly downward, ready to be swallowed into the earth. It knows too.
text. private.
[ which would probably be a much more reassuring thing to say if she were back from her trip to go check on the bar yet. which she's not. ]
text. private.
[It's his way of asking her to elaborate.]
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or doing anything but locking myself in the bedroom of some gross unused house that could use a new corpse to freshen up the smell
[ after a few seconds comes another text: ]
i'm sorry
wish i knew sooner so i could've warned you in person
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and #29. someone pretty much stripped it so it's not like anybody's gonna try and live here
[ it also means she gets to die on the floor, but technicalities. ]
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as it turns out decomposing isn't all that quick
action.
Where are you?
action. omfg lockpicks
that's not even a question, really. there's the faintest rustle as she leans against and subsequently slides down the door to her room, letting her head drop back against it. ]
Richie?
[ the voice comes from upstairs, first door beside the stairwell. ]
action.
You in here?
action.
after a couple of seconds: ]
What are you doing here?
action.
[And it's true. He'd come with no agenda, only the belief that if they thought hard enough, they could still prevent Sally from rotting. There was still time.
It's difficult for Richie to admit that he has no answers.]
This just can't be it.
action.
but he sounds so... something. something sally can't quite put her finger on, not without seeing his face and there's no way she's unlocking this door. her lips press together, and he'll hear faint movement inside as she pushes herself up off her ass, using the doorframe to haul herself to her feet. she's leaning against that doorframe (richie can probably hear the change in her altitude) when she says: ]
I mean, I'm still gonna haunt the crap out of you guys. [ it almost sounds like there's a question mark at the end, like 'does that help?' after all, they met in the first place because she was a ghost. which brings her to: ] And hey, you won't have to worry about personal space anymore. [ there's a note of weak humor in her tone. she doesn't have the energy for much better. ]
action.
You'd still be occupying space because you're there.
[It's not meant to correct her, rather that he thinks of her as an entire being while as a ghost.]
action.
Oh, totally. I just mean... [ she briefly second-guesses whether or not she told him this part, whoops. ] The soul lock's kind of a two-inch restraining order in pendant form. [ like, it'll literally just bounce her right off the invisible protective whatever. so his usual 'let's experimentally fail to touch ghost-sally's hand because it's interesting as hell' thing is kind of gonna go over like a lead balloon. ]
action.
[Nope, she hasn't told him.]
And you said to keep it on.
[There's an undercurrent of him asking if her opinion has remained the same.]
action.
It's like ectoplasmal bubble-wrap. No spirit or whatever can come within a couple inches of you without ricocheting off. Guaranteed possession-free or your money back.
[ there's that note of humor again. she's trying to keep this as light as possible, because why waste her last day depressing richie? or... y'know, however long he sticks around. she figures he won't stay that long.
but that's fine. like, at least he came.
apparently dying horribly makes you super sentimental, because she's resting her forehead against the door now and lifting both palms to press against the wood while she speaks again, her words quieter and more genuine. ] Hey, I just - [ too bad that's as far as she gets. because something about lifting both of her arms like that unleashed a sharp, hideous pain in her gut. like something's ripping, or just rotting to pieces a little bit faster than the flesh still managing to hold it somewhat together - either way, she sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth, both arms dropping to wrap tight around her stomach as she drops down to her knees in some futile reflex to curl into the pain as best she can.
whatever his answer happens to be, her pulse ringing in her ears is too loud to hear it. ]
action.
He doesn't know what to say or how to act, but he knows he should remain exactly where he is. With a hesitancy he reaches forward to touch one of the forearms against her stomach.]
action.
really, part of her almost forgot he was even out there, forgot everything outside of her own body for the good part of a minute, but then the door's swinging open and her sense of time and place leaks back into the forefront of her mind. by now, beyond conscious thought, she's managed to scoot just the couple of feet it takes to lean into the space where the wall meets a dresser for something to at the very least keep herself off the floor.
and then here's richie, and he's crouching beside her and he's touching her arm and she's beyond the usual reflex to glance down and make sure the spot he's touching isn't rotting away. instead her eyes lift to his, not angry or miserable or pleading so much as simply failing to resist the tug of gravity.
after a couple of seconds, her breath hitches as what feels like the ultimate fuck-you from her vital organs contracts in her stomach, and her head leans against the dresser again, eyes closing briefly as if steeling herself to say: ]
You're-, you shouldn't be here. [ she insists, and her tone is convincing enough but he knows her by now. if she really wanted him gone, she'd find it somewhere inside her to get rid of him for real, even just temporarily. ]
action.
[Richie's always been stubborn, and he's convinced that if Sally does try to eat him that he'll be able to get away. But he doesn't think that she will. He trusts her, and so far it's never been a mistake.]
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but on the other hand, she did this alone the last couple of times and it was pretty much the worst thing she can remember. so if he's gonna be here, then fine - she stops even trying to hold herself upright, shifting to lean her weight against him with her temple dropping onto the knee he doesn't have resting on the floor. ]
Then neither do you. So just- friggin' deal with it. [ she sounds much more tired now, weaker, so her sass falls a tiny bit flat. ]
action.
I can deal with it just fine. What do you need me to do?
[There's too many emotions and unfamiliar ghost things to try to navigate without a road map.]
action.
one hand lifts from her stomach to blindly locate his hand on her hair, her fingers sliding to intertwine with his. at the very least, it helps it stop shaking quite so bad. ] Hang out until you get bored, I guess.
[ which is kind of a stupidly casual thing to say right now, but it's all she's got. ]
action.
What did other people do when things got hard? Uncle Eddie and Seth always told stories.]
The other day I saw a squirrel eating a clump of dirt. Had it in his hands and everything. Pretty sure he thought it was a nut.
Stupid.
[Uncle Eddie and Seth were also better storytellers.]
action.
[ she's trying to make this less depressing, really she is. there's a pause, then a momentary flinch before she curls her knees in a bit closer, then: ]
Ask me anything. [ less sassy, more genuine. quiet, but not inaudible. ] You're not the only one who can talk about shit. We'll trade.
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Re: action.
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