undergrounds | time for a check up (open post)

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time for a check up (open post)

KNOW CLARA?

You may then know, more or less, the incident of her granddaughter getting kidnapped by the vampires. It distressed her but she's fine. Honest to goodness she's fine.

It's normal for her to worry for people she cares for. It's pretty normal for her to think of all the worst case scenarios some of them could find themselves in due to their personalities/their histories/their everything.

It's very normal for her to suddenly check on them one day out of the blue, just appearing next to them without a warning or a heads up.

"Are you okay?"

She's totally calmed down about the incident last month. Really.

DON'T KNOW CLARA?

What do you mean by that?

Now you do as she suddenly phases through the wall and looks directly at you during her search for everyone she knows.

It doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing. It doesn't matter if there are people there or you're supposed to be by yourself. Suddenly you have a woman staring at you in confusion for a second before it registers in her head that no. You're not someone she knows through passing.

"Um. Oops."

[ OOC: Or make your own scenario in your comment! Prose and brackets welcomed! ]

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He lets out a soft huff of amusement, answers her bashful smile with one of his own. She's obviously friendly, in a way he feels silly now for being nervous. Of course, this all may change, but there is no reason to distrust her when she only thought to look for a friend. It must be a lonely life, after all, being a ghost.

"Lancelot," he offers in reply, then adds -- "and, please, do not worry yourself. It is only that... well, I must admit you are the first ghost I have met. Is... forgive me, is that the right term?"

Or does she prefer 'recently passed on' or 'spirit' or something else?

She waves her hand as if trying to bat away his concern of offending her. Please! When one has lived a life like she has, both living and unliving, it takes either a very shocking thing or a lot of things to get her feathers ruffled. Patience takes practice and practice makes perfect.

"It's fine, Lancelot! Ghost is a good term to use since that is what I am after all." A ghost. A spook. A spectre. An enemy from the Real Spiritsquashers cartoon series back in the early 1980s. "I'm just so sorry that we had to meet so suddenly like this. I've been at this all day! Looking for people and then some, making sure they're fine."

"Perhaps you deserve a break then," he offers, and tilts his head -- gestures a little. "I'd offer you a seat and a cup of coffee, but... I am afraid I somehow doubt either apply."

Which just makes him wonder what ghosts do, really. Can they touch things? What keeps them going? If they can't eat, or drink, do they... just exist, under their own power?

Honestly, it makes him realise how little he knows about ghosts altogether.

She brightens up at the offer to sit with him at the table because what good manners he has! It would be nice to take a little break from all the bustling she's been doing today. If only for a little while.

"I can still sit if you want! Just takes a bit more preparation to do is all." Coffee is out of the question, definitely, but it isn't hard for her to pull the chair out a bit and sit down proper. When making sure no one is looking at their way, of course.

Okay. So maybe it was a little difficult for her to pull the chair out but she's able to do it long enough to give her enough space that she isn't phasing through the table. That'll be just rude.

He smiles at her as she tugs out the chair, enough to sit down, although he can't keep the curiosity from his expression. Lancelot picks up his coffee for something to do with his hands, to keep himself from staring as she settles, and takes a sip as thinks.

"Forgive me if this is a foolish question," he begins, cautious. "But... can everyone see you?"

Is it, he wonders, something similar to why he could see the mark Pel carried that let her close the gate? The fae that came through?

The question is expected and something she's answered before, actually.

"Oh no! Not everybody. Only people who are... like me but aren't?" How to explain this? She still finds it difficult at times no matter how many times she's had to address it. "I know it might sound a bit strange but there are others out there. Others like me, like ghosts, or something else like... witches and werewolves if you can believe me. Most of the time, they're the ones who can see me."

She knows humans can often see her now and then but that's rare and makes that clear enough. "While normal people can see me it's a bit like a blue moon: Rare. Does that make sense?"

"It makes perfect sense," he allows, and Lancelot smiles a little once more. "I have already had several... unusual experiences the past month or so. I do not think I am... normal, as you put it, although it seems... a strange thing to say. I have always thought myself one of the most normal people around, compared to others. I suppose we all like to think ourselves normal, and everyone else the strange ones. I am not so sure what we would define as normal any longer, in truth, if there is even such a thing."

What he says makes sense to her, when she dwells on it after the initial feeling of relief to know he has a clue what's going on so things aren't as awkward. What is normal in the wake of finding out you weren't what you seem? Can anything be defined as such after you find out there's more than meet the eye?

The moment she found herself floating over her real body, cooling and still, she realised that she wasn't an ordinary lady herself so.

"Well then! There are a few options then if you think you're a bit more different than others." Which he could be given what he's told her, these events of his that happened prior to their meeting. "There are, like I said, werewolves and witches and vampires and then some! It's a lot so maybe I can help you a bit. Is there anything in particular you'll like to know?"

Is there anything he'd like to know? Lancelot lets out a huff of amusement at that, takes a sip of his coffee before sinking back in his chair -- lips curving in wry amusement.

"So much," he admits, "I..." His eyes flick around the coffee house a moment, cautious, before he drops them to his drink and tilts his head. "For most of my life years of my memories have been...lost, blank. Recently they began to... come back, slowly. Everything locked away was... things like this."

He gestures between them, offers a wincing smile.

"Thinks to do with... other realms, I suppose. It's... a little... disorientating, and... out of date, I imagine."

A lot of the things he says alarms her quite a bit, truth be told.

Especially the part where he mentions he has no memories and they seem to be coming back, suggesting things more than he knows. The expression on her face is quiet confusion and concern as she mulls over his words, trying to figure out what to say, to do.

"Other realms?" Clara repeat to him, "I... I was told that there are some beings out there who live in other worlds. Whatever this is connecting you, it points to signs of magic."

She never heard of werewolves or vampires locking memories away and ghosts definitely can't do it. So it has to be magic of some kind.

Lancelot grimaces a little at that, nods in agreement.

"Something which I was not sure I believed in myself not long ago, but now..."

He gestures expansively. Here he is, here she is. It can hardly be denied, can it? Yet this... this is not the kind of thing that happens to someone like Lancelot, that happens to simpler folk. He shrugs, helpless.

"I am a long way out of my depth in this, and I fear I am not sure which way to swim to find shore."

"There are places you can go to for help," Clara offers tentatively, unsure how useful these will be exactly but it's better than nothing, right? It'll be a start somewhere and he go from there if it doesn't work because what's that saying?

A door closed is a window open? Something like that. "There's Redbright Institute if you need a place to start. Students of all sorts go there and I do mean all sorts. Someone there should be able to give you a hand in what you need to know or give you a briefer better than I could."

After all she's new to this herself. It won't stop her from trying to help though.

What else? What else? Since this most likely involves magic, maybe should-- "Oh! I know! There's also trying to contact a witch! See if they can help you with your memories."

A witch? His eyes widen a fraction before he huffs at that, tilts his head a little.

"I was in the company of one when they began to come back," he admits, "although it was through no act of her own. Yet... you are right. It seems exposure to such things is what began to start them coming back, I suppose talking to more couldn't hurt. Even if they do not cast on me, simply... being in their company might be enough."

She smiles at him, trying to show confidence at the idea of approaching a witch. "That's the spirit! Well, there are two different groups you need to know then if you're going to find a witch.

"Less of a group and more a faction, I suppose? Anyways-- The groups are Circle... Circle Daybreak and Circle Midnight, I believe they're called. They're the witches I'm talking about."

"To let you know now: Midnight is, erm, frowned upon by a lot of people here due to some big differences they have with Daybreak." Not that Clara approves. While she thinks dark magic isn't safe safe magic, she also thinks trying to stop people from using it will cause more trouble in the long run. Forbidding the use of something will only cause certain parties to go after it which isn't always good. "I'm not trying to scare you or anything! Only want you to know that. It's rather important since Midnight practices what people see as dark magic."

Ah, yes! Recognition crosses his features at the name and he nods, frowns a little as she carries on to explain about dark magic.

"Miss Pel, I believe she was a member of... Circle Daybreak, as it is called. She was helping last month when... there were children going missing, I am not sure if you... heard of that?"

He hesitates, slightly unsure how much he should say. How much a ghost would even know, in fact, or how much he should speak of at all in public.

Clara definitely didn't know that thanks to being so busy with things, a look of shock and worry and anxiety running across her features when hearing about the children. Oh no.

"Are they fine? The children? Are they fine? Did anyone hurt them? Who would do that to them?" The lights around them flicker a bit thanks to the sudden spike of shock and fear Clara feels, shuddering under her magic's force interfering with its wiring.

Stay calm, Clara, stay calm. She tries to keep her feelings in check as people at a table nearby start muttering about the sudden poor wifi. "I'm sorry. It's just the children. What happened there?"

His eyes widens at the flickering of the lights and he looks up, watching them fade in and out and glancing around at the people. So she is not, he thinks, simply a wandering spirit. She can change things, can... well, can act as a ghost in a horror film might. Perhaps it might be best not to make her angry.

"There were fae opening doors," he answers, voice low and calm. "Taking them through to... their own realm, I suppose. They cannot open doors in some places, so I understand it, but they can lure them over borders to where they can. Miss Pel has a... spell, of sorts, she can use to close doors. She was closing them before children could be taken through."

She looks apologetic for letting her emotions get the best of her but the idea of children being endangered by werewolves or vampires or the like scares her. Children shouldn't go through that sort of experience ever.

"The fae?" What on earth would the fae want with children? It makes her shudder, the ideas that come to mind. This is something she's going to keep in mind for sure. "I know they're not from here and they have different ways but that's just-- The children! So all of the children who went missing are safe and sound then? Did Miss Pel report this to someone, anyone?"

"So far as I can all the children who vanished have come back. Confused, which is perhaps understandable, but they have returned nonetheless.."

He lets out a slow breath, dropping his eyes for a minute as he thinks.

"I do not know if Miss Pel reported it. I am not so sure who such a thing would be reported to. It is my understanding that Circle Daybreak, as you say, hopes to put a stop to... dark magics. To hold territory against misuse of such things. Perhaps someone higher up there should be told of such incursions. Perhaps more stops can be placed so the fae cannot open doors to come through and cause more trouble."

"Oh thank God," Clara sighs in relief, happy to hear that much. They were safe from harm. Good. That's good to hear.

She takes it that Miss Pel, the witch, didn't inform him of her plans to report it or hadn't informed him and did it. Still it wouldn't hurt to be extra sure.

"I believe I know someone to report this too," she says, the person coming to mind. Hopefully she'll be able to catch her since she seems to be a busy lady. "I'll handle it. You have so much to deal with as it is. You focus on learning more about yourself and let me deal with the problem of that fae incident, okay?"

It doesn't seem right to make him worry about more things when he had personal things to deal with already. "Daybreak means well but! Midnight doesn't mean evil or anything, personally. Just more inclined to do dangerous things. We should help them, not punish them."

He lets out a slow breath, somewhat relieved, and nods.

"Thank you," he answers, and offers her a weak smile. "I admit, this... has all been something of a trial by fire. I know well enough I do not have nearly half the information i need to understand this. Yet... the only way to learn is by throwing myself in, I suppose. By asking questions and listening to both sides of such things. I do not doubt you are right, perhaps if I meet one of them one day I will understand better still."

She smiles back at him, grateful to help him out in these little ways. It's not a lot, she knows, but she hopes it eases the worries he has and a few answers she gave him will put him on the right path. "I think there's a group of 'dark' witches -- What do you call a group of witches again? A coddle? -- who made themselves known not too long ago. They supposedly mean well. You can look to them if you want a different persecutive and more options for yourself.

"And before I forget: Can I ask one more question in regards to the incident with the fae? Um. Do you know where it was happening specifically? Like the area it happened specifically?"

If it happened in the safe zones of Redbright or in Daybreak territory then oh dear. All the more to tell this to someone soon as she could.

A coddle of witches? The word is so oddly charming he can't help but smile at it. It somehow summons up the mental image of a group of witches sitting around drinking hot chocolate and reading books, which he supposes is a much nicer image than the associations coven has. He's about to offer the word she looks for when her question stops him short, and Lancelot lets out a little ah as he regroups.

"We had reports mostly in the north of London, in truth. Oh -- by we I mean... Forgive me, I have not explained this very well. I'm a community officer for North Richmond. We had a few go missing but... when they were found, they were far from our border. I suspect they were lured out to where a door could be open."

"A community officer!" She looks impressed to hear that, not knowing many people who are actively in the law enforcement these days. "That's an amazing job for you to have and I must thank you for your work in looking for the missing children. If it weren't for you and the others, goodness know what would have happened to the poor dears."

Still she can't help but be unnerved at the location he's from and the implications of it. Richmond. If her sense of direction isn't too poor than that's almost a too close skip across Hounslow. "I'll definitely mention you when I tell this to the person I have in mind. You deserved to be recognised for this. It's important that people both have knowledge and safety guaranteed in my opinion."

Lancelot drops his eyes at that, a touch uncomfortable under the praise. To him, it is an important job. It is as she says -- people must have their safety guaranteed, and must understand what they can do to ensure that. Yet all the same, he would never ask for recognition for anything he did -- nor would he call it amazing.

"I was only doing my job," he assures her. "If it has done some good that is enough for me."

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