School grounds, Saturday afternoon

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

It had taken a complicated mess of Greyhound buses, shuttle buses, walking, and a cab with one overly enthusiastic man who had rambled on at length about how he could feel the Devil beside him (and was there really any need for name calling?), but Hamlet had finally made his way from Newark to Fandom, Virginia.

He stood on the edge of the school ground for the first time since he'd died, and just stared at the school from a distance. When had they rebuilt it after the alien attack? Was there anything left in there that he'd recognize?

He didn't move any closer than the edge of the school lawn, however. He wasn't sure if he should. He wasn't sure if he would be able to in his current form.



[OOC Note: Well, look who decided to drop by for Homecoming weekend. Hamlet is currently a ghost, so your character would likely need either spiritual powers or a previous attachment to him to be able to actually see and talk to him. Otherwise, all you'll get are a drop in the temperature and lingering bits of ectoplasm. And it's also Thanksgiving weekend here in Soviet Canuckistan, so I might have to drop offline now and then to deal with arriving relatives. My this is a long note, isn't it?]