Adventure Log: Ghosts, Buster!

[ronstadt]

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.

Comments

[creepyoldguy]

Beetlejuice been doing (reluctantly, grumpily, and only under the threat of penalty of extermination via explosion) homework. His ears literally perked at the rapping at his door, and he less than gracefully, ran to see who it was.

He opened the door and tilted his head at Ronstadt, as Goldenrod settled onto the demon's shoulder. "Thank God/Satan, I was losing my frickin' mind. Welcome to chez Shoggoth, can I help you?"

[ronstadt]

He could hear the fumbling on the other side of the door, and had a feeling his interruption of whatever the B-man had been doing was a welcome one. "Hey, man," Ronstadt grinned. "I'm hoping you can. You know anything about exorcists?"

[creepyoldguy]

"Which kind? Real, fake, or bio?"

Beetlejuice didn't wait for an answer, and instead, launched into a rambling description of all three.

"Real ones are rare, but, they're bad news for the dead if they have any kinda real talent. Death for the dead. Not pretty, bad stuff, there's an entire chapter on it. Best to kill those guys quick before they start sounding like the Pope.

Fake ones are pretty common, hacks with flashing lights and spirit boxes and shit. It's fun to make those fellas shit themselves then kill 'em.

Bio-exorcists are the creme de la creme. Like yours truly. Get rid of the living for the dead---"

He blinked twice and tilted his head. "Why d'ya ask?"

[ronstadt]

Better that Beetlejuice didn't wait for an answer, really, because Ronstadt had been completely unaware that there were multiple kinds. He listened to the ramble, oddly reminded of the time he'd explained his classification system for 911 calls to 'Vez.

"Because there's a real one getting rid of the ghosts here. I overheard a couple of 'em talking about it. ... I'd rather not actually kill anyone, though. Pretty sure that's grounds for expulsion."

[creepyoldguy]

Beetlejuice made an annoyed huff, but, didn't press the murder issue. Character growth and all of that. If he did ever get invited back by the Deetz/Maitland crew, he wanted to at least be able to say he considered not-murdering as an option once or twice.

But he did frown at the news there was an actual exorcist bugging the local deceased population.

"Expulsion then explosion---probably best to avoid it. But, an exorcist is bugging the local ghosts? What's his beef?"

[ronstadt]

"Not sure, I didn't stop to ask because I wasn't sure if they'd wanna be bothered by a breather." He shrugged. "But the thing that really got my hair up more than usual is that none of the ghosts this guy is exorcising are even hurting anyone. They just wanna hang out. It's like ... way to be a dick, right?"

[creepyoldguy]

"Depends on the ghost and depends on the breather," Beetlejuice said with a shrug. But his eyes narrowed a bit and a streak of red crept into his hair.

"Major dick move. Y'sure you want murder to be off the table? Because, sounds like murder would be fun."

[ronstadt]

"Yeah," he says, uneasy even at the thought. "I've never killed anyone, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to start."

Even as he says it, his head spins a little. He thinks it's probably just unease. Maybe it's memories he doesn't have access to roiling around in the locked-off part of his brain. Tough to tell not knowing, quite literally. Also, he's never seen Beetlejuice turn red before. That can't be a good sign.

"Your uh ... mood ring's goin' off. You need a minute?"

[creepyoldguy]

"Oh, I'm pretty good at it, you wouldn't have to do anything---y'know what, let's just put a pin in that for later."

If he noticed the adverse reaction, he didn't give any reaction of his own. Mainly because he was trying to pull a strand of hair into his field of vision, going a bit cross-eyed in the process.

"Aw, shit. Yeah, it does that. Annoying as hell---don't worry, not mad at you, obviously."

[ronstadt]

"Yeah, pin that down," Ronstadt said, vaguely troubled. He hoped that if the time came to do it, he'd be able to talk the B-Guy down from murder. How much did it take to be an accessory, anyway? How did a place like this handle that? He didn't even know what Anastara laws were like...

"Yeah, no, I'd be right there with you if I had mood hair. These ghosts don't wanna bother anyone, and who are we to say 'don't come around here no more' like a Tom Petty video?"

He turned the corner and gestured. "They were both right here ... I wonder where they could've gone. They said something about a ghost society club thing..."

cw: brief drug mention

[creepyoldguy]

"You got the right idea, fella." Beetlejuice hummed in approval.

He looked around sniffing the air slightly, before licking a wall. It was hard to tell if he was trying to find out where the ghosts had gone, or if it was just a Beetlejuice thing. It certainly looked as if he were trying to find something, but, it was a fifty-fifty shot, either way.

"Ghost society club? Sounds swanky. I wonder if it's the cool kind of club with funky lights and drugs or the lame kind with arm chairs and snobbery."

I've asked the mods to drop us a hint/prompt :)

[ronstadt]

"They didn't sound snobby," Rondstadt shrugged. "But at the same time I'm pretty sure they weren't going to head off to a rager. Maybe a bit of both. ... Hey, there's a thought. What do ghosts look like under a blacklight?"

He reached out idly with his powers, see what there was to see of Side B in the hallway, but remember that they were secondary to what he was learning here in Anastara. Had he learned anything in class that could be helpful, yet? He wracked his brain, trying to concentrate.

[magicademynpcs]

No sooner does he reach out with his second sense then a vision appeared before him. A specter, a spook, a ghost! A ghost in a really, really bizarre hat, a toga, and clown shoes, caught midway in cracking an ethereal glowstick.

"Anastara Diatu" says one bad word, then quickly pulls out of nowhere a black robe and a white mask with an overlong mouth. "I know what you did last summer!" he says, menacing Rondstadt with an obviously fake knife. "State your business in the realm of the dead!"

[ronstadt]

Ronstadt is, thankfully, too shocked by how utterly ridiculous this entire tableau is to even sporfle. He blinks a few times, looks at Beetlejuice as if to say 'you're seeing this, right?' then looks back at the ghost.

"I know what I did last summer, too, and believe me, I would've rather been here," he quips. "We're hoping to help get rid of an exorcist...? Heard a rumor the guy's kind of a jerk."

cw: drugs

[creepyoldguy]

"I don't remember last summer, what did I do?" A shit-ton of coke, was the likely answer.

Beetlejuice tilted his head at the dead guy and hummed. Back home, one entered the Netherworld looking how they did when they died. It made for some interesting appearances, but, this guy was a whole new level of bizarre.

He kind of liked it.

"Yeah, heard y'got an exorcist problem. We're here to help. I'm a bio-exorcist, it's kinda my thing. Here, have a business card." Beetlejuice handed the ghost one of his cards.

[ronstadt]

"You have cards? Neat. ... I don't have one for what I do. I guess 'cuz I was just getting into it and had no idea what to even call it." Ronstadt shrugged. "But I just ... uh. Take care of nasty supernatural stuff. Whether it's bugging the living or the dead. Side B problem solver, I guess."

[magicademynpcs]

"Ah, I see. You already know about the raves. Dreadful thing, that." The ghost tosses aside its hasty disguise, resuming as much dignity and panache as one can in an outfit like that. "If this is your task, might I persuade you to wait in hiding? I've no doubt we'll be interrupted again tonight."

[creepyoldguy]

"I made them myself," he told Ronstadt cheerfully.

"Ah. Guy has a routine?" Beetlejuice asked, bouncing on his toes. "Hiding can be fun. We can scare the crap outta him in the process! And then kill him!"

[ronstadt]

"Not bad," Ronstadt said under his breath in regard to the business cards, before turning back to the matter at hand.

"Can't say I've ever been to a ghost rave. Sounds pretty fun. And I promise I won't tell anyone else about them," he said dutifully, making his best approximation of the Boy Scout salute. "But if this guy's an exorcist, scares might not be the way to go. He might be, you know, kinda immune. Even so, all we need to know is where the rave is, and what time, and then we have the whole day to prepare."

[magicademynpcs]

"Goodness, don't kill him." 'Anastara Diatu' looks distinctly ruffled at the suggestion. "Do you have any idea what a headache an exorcist is when they too are a ghost? Just dissuade him. Here, here."

The pinnacle of helpfulness, the ghost conjures an ectoplasmic map for them, handing it off so that they have precise directions. Perhaps more helpful than that are the instructions which accompany it, indicating the password they should speak and how they can get around certain obstacles which are meant to keep the living out.