RE: QUIETUS [S!5] [Round 3: Deluge]
11-04-2023, 03:55 PM
Being a person was weird, Florica thought. She hadn’t really felt like a person for a long time. Though in the years since the lake there had been times where she wasn’t the object of a tug-of-war between local ghosts, even in those times she was always anxious, unsettled, waiting for the penny to drop and her body to be taken over once again.
Robin had helped her, drawn a whole bunch of symbols onto her body that sort of tickled uncomfortably but at least it was keeping the ghosts out. Subsequently she’d been treated to delightfully hot bath and they didn’t even have to spend half an hour boiling kettles to have it. What an indulgent day she was having.
She’d cleaned off the runes (Robin had said it was okay to do so) and Amaranth had even helped her with some of the harder to reach ones on her back. Despite their erasure the tingling feeling they provided still remained and if anything it was gradually getting more intense.
She wondered if she should have protested Amaranth helping her in the bath? Modesty was a thing that people did, right? She didn’t really mind if someone saw her parts or not. It had been a long time since that had been a strong enough concern to actually merit embarrassment. Besides it was nice to spend time with Amaranth. She was kind and she smelled nice. Florica wondered if they were friends now. Having friends was another thing that people did.
Amaranth had also helped her with the blood caked in her hair around the bullet wound. Florica wondered if it was still inside. Well, she supposed, it would have to be. Where else would it have gone? But it didn’t hurt though. She remembered things that hurt. She remembered skinning her knee falling off an old tree swing. Just from a simple comparison this probably should have hurt so much more, and yet, nothing.
“Do you think I’m going to be okay?” Florica asked.
“Hmmm?” Amaranth murmured, lost in her own thoughts. It took her a second to process the question and then she hesitated in her response. How was she supposed to know? She didn’t understand ghosts in the same way that either Robin or Florica did. She was pretty sure she got the basic gist of what was wrong and how they’d fixed it, but she wasn’t the expert here, and asking her to evaluate the quality of Robin’s work felt absurd.
So instead of giving an answer with little basis she asked: “Well, do you feel okay?”
“I feel good.” Florica said with a small smile, “Just a little uncomfortable.”
Amaranth averted her eyes. She hadn’t been looking but even so she couldn’t fault the girl for wanting a little privacy. Who could say how long it had been since she last had that?
“I’m sure you’ll be alright.” The girl seemed so fragile, what was the point in telling her anything else? “I’ll give you a little privacy,” she said. “and see if I can find you something to wear.”
Amaranth left her to it, but of course the uncomfortable tightness of the runes didn’t dissipate in her absence. She rinsed her hair and dreaded the thought of combing through that tangled and knotted mess. If she was better, if she was fixed, she was going to have to start looking after it again. She was going to have to start doing a lot of things again. She really hoped Robin and Amaranth would stick around to help her figure that kind of stuff out.
Florica didn’t spend too long in the bath. Once she’d run out of parts of herself to clean she just sat there wondering what she was supposed to be doing next and eventually decided it must be time to get out and dry off. She dried off as best as she could and then just sat and waited, and when she couldn’t stand to do that any longer she left the bathroom and walked through the halls.
She eyed the decaying tapestries and unfamiliar symbology with disinterest as she passed. Once again she found herself humming quietly; that siren song that echoed in her head, that had once led her to the lake. She stopped. She was a person now, not a helpless haunted girl. She should be happy, a small part of herself piped up, who knows how much longer it would last. She was in a battle to the death after all, and gods that was a topic she did not want to think too closely about.
“Florica!” Amaranth’s voice echoed down the hallway, a hint of alarm carefully downplayed.
Florica turned and headed in that direction, after a minute she re-remembered she was a person and called ahead of herself: “I’m here.”
Amaranth hurried towards her, holding a bundle of black fabric. Once again she averted her eyes as she handed over the nun’s habit. “I was worried about you. Please don’t just wander off like that.” she said.
“Okay.” Florica said. This was socializing. She was making friends.
Florica turned the fabric over and over until she had it the right way around and then pulled it over her head. Without the white collar and hood it just looked like an extremely loose fitting black dress. Wearing it made Florica look even more emaciated than she actually was.
“Oh we should probably get you something to eat.” Amaranth said.
That was a familiar worry at least, Florica supposed. “Okay.” she said.
But before they could make any progress on that, there was a knock at the door. It echoed through the halls clear and loud. Florica watched blankly as Amaranth seemed to consider her options before hurrying off.
With little purpose or hurry Florica followed Amaranth as she moved from room to room, looking for an intact window or any small hole she could look out of and get a vantage on the entryway; from her muttering it was clear she wasn’t able to find one. Finally she followed her to the front door and even offered to help when Amaranth invited the stranger inside.
“It’s all right. I’m seeing to it. And put on your veil.” Amaranth said to her and led the stranger off into one of the side rooms.
Florica saw no reason to refuse such a simply stated request from her friend, even if she didn’t own a veil. So she wandered off to try and find one. It didn’t take her long to stumble into a room with an enormous open wardrobe and numerous outfits similar to Amaranth’s. She found the collar and the veil she was missing to complete her outfit but actually putting them on was a little more fiddly than expected.
“Florica?” Robin’s voice came from behind her. Florica turned to see the woman who had fixed her and automatically a soft smile formed on her lips. Her task was immediately forgotten. “You’re looking much better.” she said. “The ensemble is a little much, but otherwise.”
“Thanks.” Florica was getting really good at socializing.
“Florica, what I’d really like to do is talk to you about the circumstances that led to you being a um…” Robin struggled for an appropriate word that Florica would be able to understand. “A beacon to ghosts?” Not exactly what she wanted to say but close enough.
“I…” Florica winced, the tension from those glyphs was growing pretty intense.
“We don’t have to talk about it right away if its too painful.” Robin offered reluctantly.
Florica shook her head. “I drowned.”
Robin hesitated for a minute having expected a little more than just a two word response.“Well, that’s interesting. Where you come from, is that commonplace? If people drown then they end up like that?”
Florica shook her head. “I never met anyone else like me.” she said.
“Ah, I see.” Her disappointment was audible. “Was there anything more specific you could tell me?”
Florica tried to reach for the words but all she could find was the melody, as she was about to hum it, as though that would be helpful, but then there was the sound of something slamming into something heavy nearby. They both turned in that direction.
“There was a stranger. He said he was looking for you. Amaranth went to talk with him.” Florica volunteered
Robin looked thoughtful as though trying to solve the situation from first principles, but after a moment shook it off and said: “Lets go see him then.”
They made their way to the little side room Amaranth had taken the stranger into, and Florica gave a nervous little knock, before Robin stepped up and just pushed open the door anyway.
Inside Amaranth and the stranger were fighting, and then shortly she and Robin were arguing. Florica found it difficult to concentrate. Everything that they were talking about sounded so far away and that pressure on her was getting more and more intense. She flopped down into a chair and tried her best to stay focused, stay present, stay in the room.
One moment she was sitting, trying to force herself to be able to listen to what this stranger was saying (and failing), and the next the tension that had been building finally broke and she was lying sprawled on the floor. She lay there for a moment, expecting that maybe Amaranth or Robin would make a fuss and help her back up, but the conversation continued indistinctly. She pushed herself up to a sitting position only to see her hands were translucent, almost transparent, and what faint colour there was was grey and faded.
She sat there for a minute, afraid to turn and look behind her, just watching as Robin and Amaranth and this guy whose name she’d never caught discussed something right on the outer edge of her perception. Finally she turned and looked, and there she was, her physical self, glowing with blinding white light in the patterns of the glyphs that Robin had painted.
“Oh.” she said, faintly. Looking at her physical self was making her feel unwell. Some of it was probably psychological, looking at the thing that you thought was you and not being connected to it in any way. The harsh brightness of the light was unpleasant to stare at directly but it wasn’t just that. She felt physically revulsed. All she wanted to do was turn and go. Not to go anywhere in specific but just to be elsewhere, away from here, from her empty body.
—
Knowing he was never going to truly do justice to the nature of the entity that had sent him here Cade opted to describe it in simple terms. Black fluid. Many voiced. Hated to be touched. Menacing but equally vulnerable. Amaranth had scoffed at that descriptor.
“I think you have a pretty good idea what I’m talking about.” Cade said. “Whatever it is, it is sick, or hurt. I offered to help and it asked me to find you. And so here I am. I just want to help, well, to help and to understand.”
“What-”
“Maybe we should discuss this outside.” Amaranth interrupted.
“If you want to debate about whether we should help Sonora, my answer is we should and I’m going to.” Robin said firmly, before turning her focus back to Cade. “What specifically made you think it was sick?”
Cade thought for a moment before answering. “It was up on the edge of the canal and it felt out of place, like it was a beached whale. It was struggling to breathe and though it clearly wasn’t happy when I touched it, it didn’t flinch away, or pounce on me or anything.”
“Hmm.” Robin mulled it over for a minute, if she’d been fishing for something in particular she hadn’t had any bites so far. “Okay, lets go then. I presume you’ll want to lead me to it.”
“I’d like to know what’s going on here.” Cade said, fidgeting in his handcuffs. “But I’m not about to hold a creature’s health ransom to get that knowledge. Yeah I can lead you there.”
“Don’t do this.” The words just sort of burst out of Amaranth. She still held mixed feelings towards Sonora; a perfectly reasonable amount of fear, with just an undercurrent of gratitude. While she couldn’t ignore that part of her that was grateful to Sonora, the part that was afraid of her was much louder… And if she was dying already then just leaving her to it and letting things occur naturally wasn’t so bad was it?
“Sonora deserves to live as much as any of us.” Robin said, simply and firmly as though the discussion was already concluded and everyone else should catch up.
“We can’t fix everyone.” Amaranth sighed. “Can’t we just keep ourselves safe this time?”
“You and Florica can stay here and be safe if you want, while I go out and help Sonora.” Robin said, and in mentioning her she finally noticed the stillness that had come over the girl. “Florica?” No response.
“She’s probably due a good night’s rest.” Amaranth suggested. “Maybe we should just let her sleep.”
But she wasn’t slumped over like she’d fallen asleep. She was just sitting there, eyes open, body upright, but so still. “Florica?” Robin tried again, a rising concern in her voice. Once again, no response.
Robin hurried to her side, taking her arm and feeling for a pulse. Her body was cold and damp. She couldn’t feel a pulse. “Amaranth my animeter, quickly.”
Amaranth hesitated for a moment, instinctively bristling at Robin’s easy assumption that she would just do as she’s told. “Don’t just-”
“This is urgent okay?”
Amaranth still wasn’t happy about it, but it was an emergency. They could discuss it later. For now, she turned and hurried off.
“You, I don’t know your name, help me get her to the floor.”
Cade sprung to his feet without argument, grabbing (somewhat awkwardly due to his handcuffs) Florica’s lower body while Robin gripped her behind the shoulders and they quickly lowered her to the floor. Robin started to perform CPR and Cade lingered awkwardly nearby.
“This doesn’t make sense.” Between every word a compression, and then a breath into Florica’s mouth. Why had she died just having a quiet sit down? And why weren’t they being shuttled to the next locale right now? How was she so cold?
The only way that any of this made any sense was if she’d been wrong about Florica this whole time.
CPR wasn’t doing anything, and if she was right of course it wouldn’t. Quickly she started to break the binding on the glyphs she’d so recently painstakingly inscribed on the girl. Maybe if she was lucky Florica would be able to get back in on her own.
Finally Amaranth returned. “Your animeter.” she said, turning it over into Robin’s waiting hand and taking a step back.
“I’m going to need to your help to trance again.” Robin said.
“Tell me what’s happening.” Amaranth asked wearily. Sometimes she felt less like an ally and more like Robin’s convenient dispenser of psychotropics.
“I’ve been operating under the apprehension that Florica was a haunted girl, and that if I could provide an external source to simulate the incompatibility that makes a body uninhabitable by ghosts then they’d be repelled and she’d be free to live her life in peace.” Robin said. “But I think I was wrong. I think Florica might be a ghost who happens to be haunting her own body.”
“She’s what?” Amaranth asked. “What does that mean?”
“It’s just a hunch.” Robin shook her head. “I’m not sure that she even knows what she is, and I really doubt she’ll be strong enough to guide herself back into her body.”
—
It shouldn’t be possible to cry as a disembodied spirit, at least in Florica’s opinion. But the spirit remembers the shape of the body, the way it responds to stimuli, and it performs those same processes out of habit. Florica had been crying. She told herself she should have known something would go wrong. She chided herself for getting her hopes up that she could have a normal life, could be a person again.
That was when she heard it. All the sounds of the living were so distant and distorted as to be inaudible to her, even the patter of the rain falling from the sky or gurgling down into the gutter was absent. All there was to hear was that familiar somber melody. The one that had drawn her to her fate so many years ago, which echoed in her dreams, and somehow was here. Florica had followed the sound of it all the way to the main entrance of the church, and hesitated there.
She wanted to follow that mournful tune out into the streets but something about the wall of rain before her put her on edge. Made her reluctant to press forwards.
Robin, once again disembodied, caught up with her before she could bring herself to step outside. “Florica! Get back from there!”
“Do you hear it?” Florica asked.
“Hear what?” Robin asked testily.
“The song. It’s out there somewhere.” Florica’s voice sounded torn between wonder and fear.
Robin sighed, this was not the time or place to try and prise information out of the girl. Her ghostly form was almost insubstantial, and based on the brief time she’d been out in the rain earlier she suspected Florica would come apart like a damp paper towel if she actually went out in it. “The rain here is dangerous, Florica. Get back here before you get yourself killed.”
Florica didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on the rain ahead of her, her head filled with the music only she could hear.
Robin sighed again, frustrated with Florica for her stubbornness, but jointly frustrated with herself for having taken so long to figure Florica out, and for inadvertently putting her in danger like this. Without further discussion she grabbed Florica by the wrist and pulled her away from the entrance and back toward her physical self.
Florica tried to pull away, cried out and tried to squeeze out of her grip but she felt weightless in comparison to Robin. No power, no strength, no ability to even so much as pull her off balance. After maybe a minute or two of pointless resistance she gave up and meekly followed behind her.
“Just let me go.” Florica muttered. “It’s hopeless. I can’t be fixed.”
Robin stopped in place, and Florica barely paying attention almost walked into her. Okay, that was clearly a little too harsh too quick. She turned to look at the ghost girl with a softer look in her eyes. “It’s okay Florica. I’m sorry our first attempt didn’t work, but trust me I’m not giving up on you because of a single failure. One way or another I am going to fix you.”
Florica finally turned around to look at Robin, her spiritual form so solid and vibrant compared to her own. “Thank you, Robin.” she said, tears in her eyes again.
There was no further discussion as they returned to her body, Robin still holding tight to Florica’s wrist just in case, but Florica didn’t seem to mind any more.
—
This is Arokht of Provisional Militia.
Receiving you, this is Sir Gautier Lamarre at Headquarters.
Do you have the information I require yet?
There is a source who claims they know where she is. We have a patrol on the way to confirm.
Why was I not informed?
The source was unable to provide corroborating information. This could be a wild goose chase. We were going to inform you if and when we got confirmation.
I should have been informed immediately. What is the location?
... The church of St. Giselle. It’s a quaint little church, near St. Eleanora’s. Officers are approaching the site as we speak.
…
Arokht?
Robin had helped her, drawn a whole bunch of symbols onto her body that sort of tickled uncomfortably but at least it was keeping the ghosts out. Subsequently she’d been treated to delightfully hot bath and they didn’t even have to spend half an hour boiling kettles to have it. What an indulgent day she was having.
She’d cleaned off the runes (Robin had said it was okay to do so) and Amaranth had even helped her with some of the harder to reach ones on her back. Despite their erasure the tingling feeling they provided still remained and if anything it was gradually getting more intense.
She wondered if she should have protested Amaranth helping her in the bath? Modesty was a thing that people did, right? She didn’t really mind if someone saw her parts or not. It had been a long time since that had been a strong enough concern to actually merit embarrassment. Besides it was nice to spend time with Amaranth. She was kind and she smelled nice. Florica wondered if they were friends now. Having friends was another thing that people did.
Amaranth had also helped her with the blood caked in her hair around the bullet wound. Florica wondered if it was still inside. Well, she supposed, it would have to be. Where else would it have gone? But it didn’t hurt though. She remembered things that hurt. She remembered skinning her knee falling off an old tree swing. Just from a simple comparison this probably should have hurt so much more, and yet, nothing.
“Do you think I’m going to be okay?” Florica asked.
“Hmmm?” Amaranth murmured, lost in her own thoughts. It took her a second to process the question and then she hesitated in her response. How was she supposed to know? She didn’t understand ghosts in the same way that either Robin or Florica did. She was pretty sure she got the basic gist of what was wrong and how they’d fixed it, but she wasn’t the expert here, and asking her to evaluate the quality of Robin’s work felt absurd.
So instead of giving an answer with little basis she asked: “Well, do you feel okay?”
“I feel good.” Florica said with a small smile, “Just a little uncomfortable.”
Amaranth averted her eyes. She hadn’t been looking but even so she couldn’t fault the girl for wanting a little privacy. Who could say how long it had been since she last had that?
“I’m sure you’ll be alright.” The girl seemed so fragile, what was the point in telling her anything else? “I’ll give you a little privacy,” she said. “and see if I can find you something to wear.”
Amaranth left her to it, but of course the uncomfortable tightness of the runes didn’t dissipate in her absence. She rinsed her hair and dreaded the thought of combing through that tangled and knotted mess. If she was better, if she was fixed, she was going to have to start looking after it again. She was going to have to start doing a lot of things again. She really hoped Robin and Amaranth would stick around to help her figure that kind of stuff out.
Florica didn’t spend too long in the bath. Once she’d run out of parts of herself to clean she just sat there wondering what she was supposed to be doing next and eventually decided it must be time to get out and dry off. She dried off as best as she could and then just sat and waited, and when she couldn’t stand to do that any longer she left the bathroom and walked through the halls.
She eyed the decaying tapestries and unfamiliar symbology with disinterest as she passed. Once again she found herself humming quietly; that siren song that echoed in her head, that had once led her to the lake. She stopped. She was a person now, not a helpless haunted girl. She should be happy, a small part of herself piped up, who knows how much longer it would last. She was in a battle to the death after all, and gods that was a topic she did not want to think too closely about.
“Florica!” Amaranth’s voice echoed down the hallway, a hint of alarm carefully downplayed.
Florica turned and headed in that direction, after a minute she re-remembered she was a person and called ahead of herself: “I’m here.”
Amaranth hurried towards her, holding a bundle of black fabric. Once again she averted her eyes as she handed over the nun’s habit. “I was worried about you. Please don’t just wander off like that.” she said.
“Okay.” Florica said. This was socializing. She was making friends.
Florica turned the fabric over and over until she had it the right way around and then pulled it over her head. Without the white collar and hood it just looked like an extremely loose fitting black dress. Wearing it made Florica look even more emaciated than she actually was.
“Oh we should probably get you something to eat.” Amaranth said.
That was a familiar worry at least, Florica supposed. “Okay.” she said.
But before they could make any progress on that, there was a knock at the door. It echoed through the halls clear and loud. Florica watched blankly as Amaranth seemed to consider her options before hurrying off.
With little purpose or hurry Florica followed Amaranth as she moved from room to room, looking for an intact window or any small hole she could look out of and get a vantage on the entryway; from her muttering it was clear she wasn’t able to find one. Finally she followed her to the front door and even offered to help when Amaranth invited the stranger inside.
“It’s all right. I’m seeing to it. And put on your veil.” Amaranth said to her and led the stranger off into one of the side rooms.
Florica saw no reason to refuse such a simply stated request from her friend, even if she didn’t own a veil. So she wandered off to try and find one. It didn’t take her long to stumble into a room with an enormous open wardrobe and numerous outfits similar to Amaranth’s. She found the collar and the veil she was missing to complete her outfit but actually putting them on was a little more fiddly than expected.
“Florica?” Robin’s voice came from behind her. Florica turned to see the woman who had fixed her and automatically a soft smile formed on her lips. Her task was immediately forgotten. “You’re looking much better.” she said. “The ensemble is a little much, but otherwise.”
“Thanks.” Florica was getting really good at socializing.
“Florica, what I’d really like to do is talk to you about the circumstances that led to you being a um…” Robin struggled for an appropriate word that Florica would be able to understand. “A beacon to ghosts?” Not exactly what she wanted to say but close enough.
“I…” Florica winced, the tension from those glyphs was growing pretty intense.
“We don’t have to talk about it right away if its too painful.” Robin offered reluctantly.
Florica shook her head. “I drowned.”
Robin hesitated for a minute having expected a little more than just a two word response.“Well, that’s interesting. Where you come from, is that commonplace? If people drown then they end up like that?”
Florica shook her head. “I never met anyone else like me.” she said.
“Ah, I see.” Her disappointment was audible. “Was there anything more specific you could tell me?”
Florica tried to reach for the words but all she could find was the melody, as she was about to hum it, as though that would be helpful, but then there was the sound of something slamming into something heavy nearby. They both turned in that direction.
“There was a stranger. He said he was looking for you. Amaranth went to talk with him.” Florica volunteered
Robin looked thoughtful as though trying to solve the situation from first principles, but after a moment shook it off and said: “Lets go see him then.”
They made their way to the little side room Amaranth had taken the stranger into, and Florica gave a nervous little knock, before Robin stepped up and just pushed open the door anyway.
Inside Amaranth and the stranger were fighting, and then shortly she and Robin were arguing. Florica found it difficult to concentrate. Everything that they were talking about sounded so far away and that pressure on her was getting more and more intense. She flopped down into a chair and tried her best to stay focused, stay present, stay in the room.
One moment she was sitting, trying to force herself to be able to listen to what this stranger was saying (and failing), and the next the tension that had been building finally broke and she was lying sprawled on the floor. She lay there for a moment, expecting that maybe Amaranth or Robin would make a fuss and help her back up, but the conversation continued indistinctly. She pushed herself up to a sitting position only to see her hands were translucent, almost transparent, and what faint colour there was was grey and faded.
She sat there for a minute, afraid to turn and look behind her, just watching as Robin and Amaranth and this guy whose name she’d never caught discussed something right on the outer edge of her perception. Finally she turned and looked, and there she was, her physical self, glowing with blinding white light in the patterns of the glyphs that Robin had painted.
“Oh.” she said, faintly. Looking at her physical self was making her feel unwell. Some of it was probably psychological, looking at the thing that you thought was you and not being connected to it in any way. The harsh brightness of the light was unpleasant to stare at directly but it wasn’t just that. She felt physically revulsed. All she wanted to do was turn and go. Not to go anywhere in specific but just to be elsewhere, away from here, from her empty body.
—
Knowing he was never going to truly do justice to the nature of the entity that had sent him here Cade opted to describe it in simple terms. Black fluid. Many voiced. Hated to be touched. Menacing but equally vulnerable. Amaranth had scoffed at that descriptor.
“I think you have a pretty good idea what I’m talking about.” Cade said. “Whatever it is, it is sick, or hurt. I offered to help and it asked me to find you. And so here I am. I just want to help, well, to help and to understand.”
“What-”
“Maybe we should discuss this outside.” Amaranth interrupted.
“If you want to debate about whether we should help Sonora, my answer is we should and I’m going to.” Robin said firmly, before turning her focus back to Cade. “What specifically made you think it was sick?”
Cade thought for a moment before answering. “It was up on the edge of the canal and it felt out of place, like it was a beached whale. It was struggling to breathe and though it clearly wasn’t happy when I touched it, it didn’t flinch away, or pounce on me or anything.”
“Hmm.” Robin mulled it over for a minute, if she’d been fishing for something in particular she hadn’t had any bites so far. “Okay, lets go then. I presume you’ll want to lead me to it.”
“I’d like to know what’s going on here.” Cade said, fidgeting in his handcuffs. “But I’m not about to hold a creature’s health ransom to get that knowledge. Yeah I can lead you there.”
“Don’t do this.” The words just sort of burst out of Amaranth. She still held mixed feelings towards Sonora; a perfectly reasonable amount of fear, with just an undercurrent of gratitude. While she couldn’t ignore that part of her that was grateful to Sonora, the part that was afraid of her was much louder… And if she was dying already then just leaving her to it and letting things occur naturally wasn’t so bad was it?
“Sonora deserves to live as much as any of us.” Robin said, simply and firmly as though the discussion was already concluded and everyone else should catch up.
“We can’t fix everyone.” Amaranth sighed. “Can’t we just keep ourselves safe this time?”
“You and Florica can stay here and be safe if you want, while I go out and help Sonora.” Robin said, and in mentioning her she finally noticed the stillness that had come over the girl. “Florica?” No response.
“She’s probably due a good night’s rest.” Amaranth suggested. “Maybe we should just let her sleep.”
But she wasn’t slumped over like she’d fallen asleep. She was just sitting there, eyes open, body upright, but so still. “Florica?” Robin tried again, a rising concern in her voice. Once again, no response.
Robin hurried to her side, taking her arm and feeling for a pulse. Her body was cold and damp. She couldn’t feel a pulse. “Amaranth my animeter, quickly.”
Amaranth hesitated for a moment, instinctively bristling at Robin’s easy assumption that she would just do as she’s told. “Don’t just-”
“This is urgent okay?”
Amaranth still wasn’t happy about it, but it was an emergency. They could discuss it later. For now, she turned and hurried off.
“You, I don’t know your name, help me get her to the floor.”
Cade sprung to his feet without argument, grabbing (somewhat awkwardly due to his handcuffs) Florica’s lower body while Robin gripped her behind the shoulders and they quickly lowered her to the floor. Robin started to perform CPR and Cade lingered awkwardly nearby.
“This doesn’t make sense.” Between every word a compression, and then a breath into Florica’s mouth. Why had she died just having a quiet sit down? And why weren’t they being shuttled to the next locale right now? How was she so cold?
The only way that any of this made any sense was if she’d been wrong about Florica this whole time.
CPR wasn’t doing anything, and if she was right of course it wouldn’t. Quickly she started to break the binding on the glyphs she’d so recently painstakingly inscribed on the girl. Maybe if she was lucky Florica would be able to get back in on her own.
Finally Amaranth returned. “Your animeter.” she said, turning it over into Robin’s waiting hand and taking a step back.
“I’m going to need to your help to trance again.” Robin said.
“Tell me what’s happening.” Amaranth asked wearily. Sometimes she felt less like an ally and more like Robin’s convenient dispenser of psychotropics.
“I’ve been operating under the apprehension that Florica was a haunted girl, and that if I could provide an external source to simulate the incompatibility that makes a body uninhabitable by ghosts then they’d be repelled and she’d be free to live her life in peace.” Robin said. “But I think I was wrong. I think Florica might be a ghost who happens to be haunting her own body.”
“She’s what?” Amaranth asked. “What does that mean?”
“It’s just a hunch.” Robin shook her head. “I’m not sure that she even knows what she is, and I really doubt she’ll be strong enough to guide herself back into her body.”
—
It shouldn’t be possible to cry as a disembodied spirit, at least in Florica’s opinion. But the spirit remembers the shape of the body, the way it responds to stimuli, and it performs those same processes out of habit. Florica had been crying. She told herself she should have known something would go wrong. She chided herself for getting her hopes up that she could have a normal life, could be a person again.
That was when she heard it. All the sounds of the living were so distant and distorted as to be inaudible to her, even the patter of the rain falling from the sky or gurgling down into the gutter was absent. All there was to hear was that familiar somber melody. The one that had drawn her to her fate so many years ago, which echoed in her dreams, and somehow was here. Florica had followed the sound of it all the way to the main entrance of the church, and hesitated there.
She wanted to follow that mournful tune out into the streets but something about the wall of rain before her put her on edge. Made her reluctant to press forwards.
Robin, once again disembodied, caught up with her before she could bring herself to step outside. “Florica! Get back from there!”
“Do you hear it?” Florica asked.
“Hear what?” Robin asked testily.
“The song. It’s out there somewhere.” Florica’s voice sounded torn between wonder and fear.
Robin sighed, this was not the time or place to try and prise information out of the girl. Her ghostly form was almost insubstantial, and based on the brief time she’d been out in the rain earlier she suspected Florica would come apart like a damp paper towel if she actually went out in it. “The rain here is dangerous, Florica. Get back here before you get yourself killed.”
Florica didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on the rain ahead of her, her head filled with the music only she could hear.
Robin sighed again, frustrated with Florica for her stubbornness, but jointly frustrated with herself for having taken so long to figure Florica out, and for inadvertently putting her in danger like this. Without further discussion she grabbed Florica by the wrist and pulled her away from the entrance and back toward her physical self.
Florica tried to pull away, cried out and tried to squeeze out of her grip but she felt weightless in comparison to Robin. No power, no strength, no ability to even so much as pull her off balance. After maybe a minute or two of pointless resistance she gave up and meekly followed behind her.
“Just let me go.” Florica muttered. “It’s hopeless. I can’t be fixed.”
Robin stopped in place, and Florica barely paying attention almost walked into her. Okay, that was clearly a little too harsh too quick. She turned to look at the ghost girl with a softer look in her eyes. “It’s okay Florica. I’m sorry our first attempt didn’t work, but trust me I’m not giving up on you because of a single failure. One way or another I am going to fix you.”
Florica finally turned around to look at Robin, her spiritual form so solid and vibrant compared to her own. “Thank you, Robin.” she said, tears in her eyes again.
There was no further discussion as they returned to her body, Robin still holding tight to Florica’s wrist just in case, but Florica didn’t seem to mind any more.
—
This is Arokht of Provisional Militia.
Receiving you, this is Sir Gautier Lamarre at Headquarters.
Do you have the information I require yet?
There is a source who claims they know where she is. We have a patrol on the way to confirm.
Why was I not informed?
The source was unable to provide corroborating information. This could be a wild goose chase. We were going to inform you if and when we got confirmation.
I should have been informed immediately. What is the location?
... The church of St. Giselle. It’s a quaint little church, near St. Eleanora’s. Officers are approaching the site as we speak.
…
Arokht?
Heaven Help Us | Make Room!!!! | I'm Not Okay (I Promise)
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You