Adventure Log: Ghosts, Buster!
Aug. 19th, 2021 09:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Who: Ronstadt, Beetlejuice, and ... maybe you?
What: Giving some ghosts a hand! If you want to plot with us, hit me up on Plurk at
hopepunk!
Where: Around the grounds, then down in town
When: Late August
Warnings: BJ is involved, so probably some crudeness at the very least.
Ronstadt was on his way back from class when his Craydar started to fizzle: not strong, but just a hint of the power he'd felt on his first visit to Kedrigan Hall. Holding his books a little more tightly, he edged along the corridor. Whatever magical thing he was about to encounter, he wasn't sure if he could handle it on his own, and he intended to just ... maybe take a peek and go back for help.
To his surprise, he instead encountered a trio of ghosts leaning against the wall. One had its arms folded underneath an old-fashioned highwayman coat, puffing away grumpily at a pipe. Another had wild hair not unlike his, and was short and squat, offering a flask of something green and oozing to the third ghost, a dapper fellow in a bowler hat. "Drivin' me to drink, they are," the third ghost said, accepting the flask, "and you know I haven't touched this stuff since Birony was bitin' ankles."
"You great ham," the one with the pipe said, "that was three months ago."
"Feels like longer," Bowler Hat argued before taking a swig.
"Either way, who does this exorcist think he is?" The one with the wild hair snorted. "Thinking he's got the right to disturb our peace. 'Send us into the light', he says. What if we like it right here? There's a bloody reason we stick around."
"Wouldn't be ghosts if there wasn't. It's like they don't understand how this whole thing works. If only there were some way we could get rid of HIM, first..."
Something about all of this sounded really, really familiar to Ronstadt, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Either way, if his Craydar had led him to this, it was likely something just like his job at the dispatch: something he was meant to do. But he needed help. Someone who knew a few tricks, already, and would be willing to get into trouble. Loki might think it was beneath him, given what he knew of the trickster god, but ... there was someone else ...
Soon enough, Ronstadt was knocking on Beetlejuice's door in the basement... whether or not he'd run into anyone on the way remained to be seen.
What: Giving some ghosts a hand! If you want to plot with us, hit me up on Plurk at
Where: Around the grounds, then down in town
When: Late August
Warnings: BJ is involved, so probably some crudeness at the very least.
Ronstadt was on his way back from class when his Craydar started to fizzle: not strong, but just a hint of the power he'd felt on his first visit to Kedrigan Hall. Holding his books a little more tightly, he edged along the corridor. Whatever magical thing he was about to encounter, he wasn't sure if he could handle it on his own, and he intended to just ... maybe take a peek and go back for help.
To his surprise, he instead encountered a trio of ghosts leaning against the wall. One had its arms folded underneath an old-fashioned highwayman coat, puffing away grumpily at a pipe. Another had wild hair not unlike his, and was short and squat, offering a flask of something green and oozing to the third ghost, a dapper fellow in a bowler hat. "Drivin' me to drink, they are," the third ghost said, accepting the flask, "and you know I haven't touched this stuff since Birony was bitin' ankles."
"You great ham," the one with the pipe said, "that was three months ago."
"Feels like longer," Bowler Hat argued before taking a swig.
"Either way, who does this exorcist think he is?" The one with the wild hair snorted. "Thinking he's got the right to disturb our peace. 'Send us into the light', he says. What if we like it right here? There's a bloody reason we stick around."
"Wouldn't be ghosts if there wasn't. It's like they don't understand how this whole thing works. If only there were some way we could get rid of HIM, first..."
Something about all of this sounded really, really familiar to Ronstadt, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Either way, if his Craydar had led him to this, it was likely something just like his job at the dispatch: something he was meant to do. But he needed help. Someone who knew a few tricks, already, and would be willing to get into trouble. Loki might think it was beneath him, given what he knew of the trickster god, but ... there was someone else ...
Soon enough, Ronstadt was knocking on Beetlejuice's door in the basement... whether or not he'd run into anyone on the way remained to be seen.