aradia megido (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
megidoomed) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2015-06-28 12:55 pm
megidoomed) wrote in undergrounds2015-06-28 12:55 pm
Entry tags:
the boos and the bees [closed to willard and clara] [backdated to the 22nd]
It was a perfectly ordinary end to a perfectly ordinary day in old London town. The sky was cloudy, the birds were singing, people were happily chatting amongst themselves as they wrapped up their daily business, and all was well.
Or, almost all. On the winding streets of Harrow this afternoon, one random asshole appears to be holding an argument with himself, seemingly oblivious to the strange looks he's earning from passers-by. However, the narrative also refuses to consider him as a valid point of view, and the focus shifts instead to the unsettling chill lingering on the sidewalk in his wake, endangering the half-lit streetlamps out of sheer annoyance.
Today was a bad lightbulb day, apparently. Many weep at the incoming hike of electrical prices.
"--and being unconscious for two days is still ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. I don't get why you think that's okay." So, maybe Aradia's been circling this particular topic for the past twenty minutes, but her point is clearly the sensible one. All she has to do is repeat it enough times for it to sink in past Mystery Dude's dumbass skull and she's won.
Or, almost all. On the winding streets of Harrow this afternoon, one random asshole appears to be holding an argument with himself, seemingly oblivious to the strange looks he's earning from passers-by. However, the narrative also refuses to consider him as a valid point of view, and the focus shifts instead to the unsettling chill lingering on the sidewalk in his wake, endangering the half-lit streetlamps out of sheer annoyance.
Today was a bad lightbulb day, apparently. Many weep at the incoming hike of electrical prices.
"--and being unconscious for two days is still ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. I don't get why you think that's okay." So, maybe Aradia's been circling this particular topic for the past twenty minutes, but her point is clearly the sensible one. All she has to do is repeat it enough times for it to sink in past Mystery Dude's dumbass skull and she's won.
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Yeah. To hell with that. Will himself immediately turns to the opposite side of the room. Beanbags are for asshole ghosts who keep getting on people's cases over pointless and unfounded fears. Be nice in front of Clara, that's rude, don't start executing immortal souls, that's also rude, but he's long since reached his limit of this topic and he's so very very good at keeping calm-
Up until the moment he gets pissed. A mental revolver is loaded and the sound of a chair being set on the ground is the same tone of a hammer being pulled back. A dead frostbite eases into only the vaguest intonation of words; aim, fire all rounds, "Oh, but there is an issue.
"Too bad you're not qualified to voice it. What a hypocrite. Ignoring any right to question your own bad choices, then targeting mine as a distraction? And what about that mental hangup of yours? 'I'm dead, I shouldn't make any attachments to the living'. Then you try pulling this half-assed concern on me over something that's not a problem. There's no way someone like you has the right to judge me when you're guilty of the same sins."
And the worst part is it's said all in a composed, reasonable, and above all dead delivery, sitting down afterward with an annoyed sigh. Like even saying it wasn't worth the effort. It even picks up the adjective 'tired' with the last dismissing wave of his hand. "But I'm sure she's got plenty of logical reasons for why I should ignore it. Maybe you can get her to give them, Clara. I've had no luck."
Empty the chamber, reload. Your move, Aradia.
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Yep. Definitely getting flashbacks to her youth when looking after her quarrelling sons. Except with her sons she had least had a clue of what's causing them to squabble. She's pretty much up in the air on what's wrong with these two here. See, kiddies, this is why ghosts have to be in the know for everything. Because everyone starts shouting or start asking questions that don't make sense unless you happen to be the narrative or a third party omniscient viewer.
At least she knows the two with here are neither the type to start a brawl or showdown right there and then. No matter how bad the argument got. The poor employee would weep if a brawl occurred here in the middle of the night after someone broke in.
She knows. She hopes. Oh dear.
Her expression is balancing a fine line of annoyed and alarmed, wondering what has gotten these two heckled up so much. She goes closer to them, narrowing her eyes to see if she can pick up any signs of damage on them. "Did something happen earlier? Is that why you two are fighting? Are you two okay? Are you both safe?"
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Her temper flares and there's an immediate shriek from the lights, flickering static causing the younger ghost to bury her face in her hands because she will not flip her lid in Clara's shop. There's a line in the sand and that wouldn't so much be crossing it as nuking it from orbit.
He's doing this on purpose. He has to be, since he's got first-hand evidence of how bad her control is near anything fragile. She's half tempted to strangle him but-- no, temper, stop.
"Something definitely happened," and that at least is impossible to dispute. 'Happened' is such a cheerfully neutral word and events definitely happen all the time. "And I'm okay, but somebody decided to spend the last two days in a coma. Which is not the same thing because--" he just said she'd try to counter it, "--because I'm nowhere near that dumb."
Yeah, no. The light beside the door is the third casualty of this argument, shards of glass ringing like bells as they hit the ground, and she just. Fuck.
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Except wait, no, she doesn't deserve any mercy at all, and the defenses rise once more with the wave of thoughts - she's wrong, it's not concerning, how can someone be so wrong all the time, she's worrying clara needlessly, there's so much wrong here it can't be put into words-
"First, stop exaggerating. Comas involve a noticeable degradation of brain wavelengths and are far more difficult to wake up from than, say, sleeping. Second, congratulations on the property damage. You are officially that dumb. And it invalidates your right to bother me about it!"
Poor sweet innocent Clara might be getting the feeling right about now that it might have been better to stay out of it. Alas, the lightbulbs are already dying. Escape is no longer an option.
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That's Clara's only consolation over this happening.
"You two!" Clara is quick to get between them, looking them back and forth with her sternest expression as possible in hopes of stopping them from saying anymore very rude things. While she could leave them be to duke it out, there is no way on earth she'll actually let that happen. At all. "It doesn't matter if it was a coma or not a coma! Two days? Willard! You're such a smart man. She's only concerned for you like how I'm concerned for you now.
"And Aradia! Please! At this rate all the streetlamps outside are going to catch on fire. Someone is going to notice and I don't want you to get hurt." She takes a deep breath since she hasn't raised her voice like that since Tonyo graduated highschool and but wait no. She doesn't need to breathe. She's a ghost. "Before anyone asks here -- Yes. They can catch on fire from my experience."
Looking back at the poor remnants of the light, she cants her head and takes note of it. Compared to everything else, the light was quite sturdy which is the whole point of the purchase to prevent it being easily blown out. She knew of Aradia's abilities to be a danger to lightbulbs and anything electronic but she never thought it could be this active, let alone powerful with how many she's managed to get in such a short amount of time. Emotional or not that takes a lot of power from the ghost and she keeps on at it.
Her brow furrows some more. Not out of hysterical concern but calculated thought. Hmmm. "--How long has this been going on? You two being friends, I mean. Not this fight."
Which is interchangeable at this rate.no subject
Aradia flinches both times the lightbulb is mentioned - she's trying, it's hard, her thoughts keep slipping out of focus, she wanted it to stop - but those aren't valid excuses at all, really. Add to that the mutual scolding and the realization that yep, she just caused more dangerous spectral activity at the battered old coffee shop, and suddenly it's harder to hold onto anger in the face of sudden guilt. There's no satisfaction at Will getting snapped at too, because he's still being an ass and it's justified, but they've genuinely worried Clara and there's so many regrets to be had here.
"I'm not exaggerating and-- I can't do fire," because that's obviously the problem with this situation, she wants to argue back but Clara's in the way. "I'll. Find a way to fix it. It'd get blamed on you anyway, they only look for me south of the Thames, and it wouldn't be fair."
Clara's track record was so much better then hers and she wrecked it. But she has to reply, it'd be rude otherwise, though eye contact is ignored as that cabinet full of coffee mugs over there is so much more interesting to stare at. "I... guess it's been about two months, since we met? Not sure why that's relevant."
That's as close as she remembers, since time got hard to keep track of with nothing to measure it against. Aradia's wording changes on the reply, 'friend' discarded and swapped in favour of averages, because he said they were acquaintances and she's still okay with that.
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That.
Did he just get scolded?
No attention is given to the comment of concern (she is, he knows it, but you're Forbidden from concerned, you push her feelings away), but even still it causes a bit of a flatline. Effectively getting shoved back against the mental wall of thy self is worthless but given purpose in Our Doctrine by the terrible, undefeatable leviathan that is Clara Has Raised Teenage Boys.
Only the smallest bit of awareness clicks in at the question, and the dead stare doesn't change. It matches the monotone answer flawlessly, "Forty-eight days and six hours. The section that could be considered friendly is twenty two days and ten hours. Her habit of frying electronics has been for twenty seven days and nineteen hours, however only recently has it reached this level."
Jesus christ. At least Furniture makes great watches.
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Two: It was fine. No, really. People will come and go and spoke and do the occasional warding spells to shoo her off. At... At least that's free publicity for the shop if more people come to check on the sudden spike of supernatural activity? It was the owner's way to counter all the people from coming in and out without really buying anything over the years.
For now she wants to focus on something she wishes she saw sooner but hadn't and now here they all are. Feeling awkward and the occasional sputter of spark from the ruined lamp nearby does nothing to help.
"Okay! Right," Clara starts off, "Let's keep that all in mind when I ask my next question. Okay? Aradia: Do you remember our talk earlier from when we last met? About anchors?"
She gives Willard a brief apologetic look while she speaks. Just in case if he doesn't know what an anchor is or finds himself out of loop about what's going on here between the ghosts. If he does know what's going on-- She's sorry all the same.
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Except then Clara switches targets and no. She didn't even know her blood could still turn to ice, that's a fascinating discovery and she'd much rather think about that then.... crap.
"No?" Wait. "I mean - I remember, but I still don't," there's no way she's getting out of this in one piece, is there. The waves of panic rolling off her are almost tangible, sending warning flickers through the lights but thankfully avoiding more needless destruction. She knows where Clara's going with this, and the worst part is it's suddenly all too obvious that she's got a point. Help. "I still haven't really changed my opinion on the whole thing?"
If anyone starts laughing at her misfortune there might be no survivors. Just saying.
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Everyone went through the courses after induction. They weren't long or particularly helpful, since the point was to just give the minimum assistance (death weeds out the weaker ones, why bother investing in disposable statistics) and after it they would all pick their specification. Being an Exorcist is for scrubs and weenie babies and living shields, screw that noise time to take specialization with the witch hunters.
The point is he does remember a section on ghosts he essentially ignored because, really, he's not doing that. Ever. The monotone stays intact, reading off some mental lecture and only taking out the important bits.
"That's th'one that leeches off the victim's soul, right?"
And now everyone can be totally unsurprised that the jesus cultists are given completely not-false information to make them more efficient. Super unsurprised. None of us are wrong, after all.
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real tag here it is
Stop. Wait a minute. Give her a moment to process what Willard actually said to her.
She knows the process of anchoring is strange and a little foreboding but it doesn't stop her from looking scandalised by what he says. Naturally here comes the knee jerk reaction of:
"No!"
Clara looks very offended now and the lights outside flicker a bit, a rare show of temper that she squashes down because, again, no. It isn't right but she can't get mad. The most she can do is explain and hope for the best.
"Not all ghosts are dangerous," she reminds them. "You two know that. The only reason some ghosts become so difficult is because they didn't have an anchor. All the anchor does, if the relationship is equal and healthy, is keep the ghost tied to the real world. No sucking is involved."
ngl i died a little inside and ive never been more proud
He did, and now she doesn't have to feel bad about being the only one who made that mistake. In front of Clara. This is probably not a good thing, but she'll take refuge wherever it comes, despite that being a much stronger outburst then the one Aradia earned. Which... switches her reaction from 'amused' back to 'worse', guilt and panic starting to mingle in annoying waves that get shoved down because she's okay. The whole point is that she's okay.
She totally didn't scoot back a little. At all. Nope. This wasn't meant to be about her problems, how did it come to this.
"Maybe I'm just getting better with control?" Except there's three ruined lights in the past hour alone that say otherwise, despite all attempts to pin it on her temper. Next- "And that's kinda balanced out by experience anyway. The being tied to reality bit, I mean. You said yourself that it's really hard to define."
Since everyone's so fond of skipping to the 'exorcise everything' step, but there's no point bringing that up again. It'd just lead to another circular argument and more fried wiring and that's the last thing this mess'd need right now.