fandomhighdorms | School grounds, Saturday afternoon

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School grounds, Saturday afternoon

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?]

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Rikku stopped short, then whirled. It ... it couldn't be ...

"... Hamlet?!"

She stared for a long moment before dashing forward for what would have been a tackleglomp, if not for the whole incorporeal deal.

Ow.

He spun to face her, shocked that she could see him, and then winced when she hit the ground.

"Sorry. All the tangible parts of me were buried in Roskilde." He gav her a smile. "But you can see me here?"

Rikku stood up, dusting herself off. "It's ... it's really you?" she asked, stepping closer. "You're ... I'm so sorry, Horatio said ... and I didn't make you armor or anything and I should have gone with you and ... and you're really here?!"

"As far as I can tell, it is in fact me, although I have yet to figure out what manner of unfinished business has left me stuck here between worlds. I don't think Horatio can see me, as I've been babbling at him for month without a response."

He wanted to give her a hug and tell her that it would be alright, but he figured that doing to would just make her cold and leave an ectoplasmic trail. "It's not your fault. It's mine for being careless and gravely underestimating my Uncle. I hope the thieving jackal is currently getting what he's owed."

"H-Horatio said you got him," she managed, hoping her voice didn't shake. "He ... he said you were buried as ... k-king. You're ... you're really dead, then? I mean I know you are, it's so stupid, I saw it, the place and ... but you're here and I feel like going, see, I knew it wasn't true, even though you're kinda ... a little ... see-through?"

She wasn't making any sense at all. He should be used to that by now, right?

He pulled off his black coat. All the veins in one of his arms shone out with a sickly blue colour that highly contrasted with the paleness of his skin. There was a large gash on his upper arm that still somehow seemed bloody, even though his heart had stopped beating long ago.

"I'm afraid it's so." There was a note of deep resignation in his voice. "He killed me, and he killed my Mother as well, but I made sure that he was good and dead by stabbing his through the heart *and* making him drink his own vile poison. I was King for all of five minutes, but I'm thankful they choose to bury me as such."

He paused, as though unsure of what to say. "I've missed you."

Rikku flinched at seeing the gash. "He ... he s-s-said it was awful. Your mother and ..." She shivered. "I was s-supposed to tell people and I sort of ... didn't do so great at it. I kinda ..." She waved vaguely. "P-Professor Skywalker helped, a lot."

She smiled, wistfully. "I've missed you, too. Horatio ... I thought he was coming to tell me you were busy and that's why you ... hadn't called. Stupid, huh?"

Hamlet caught the flinch, and put his coat back on. He was stuck with that for eternity, but there was no reason she had to see that.

"It's fine. It's not as though I was I was planning for that to happen, and you had no way of knowing." He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'm glad that Professor Skywalker helped you out. Annie's always been a good friend."

"I don't think anybody plans ..." Rikku shook her head. "Things just kinda land on you and you're left going, man, I would've done this or that and ... and it's ridiculous, 'cause you're never gonna get a heads-up."

She smiled back. "He's ... he was incredible. I can't picture him as Annie, though. That's so weird, that he used to go here. But ... I guess weird's kinda normal for Fandom, yeah?"

There was a long pause while she tried to figure out how to ask what she wanted to ask. "Are you ... stuck? Here, I mean."

"We were classmates, back when he was a Padawan, so I have difficulty picturing him as someone much older than I know. Isn't it odd how time works here?"

There was a moment of indecision as he wrestled with his own thoughts. As cold as he knew he was, he reached out to hug her. He hoped that he wouldn't be too cold against her skin.

"I think so," he said. "With my Father, it was because he wanted his murder avenged and wouldn't rest until that happened. For me ... I don't know why."

It was a little shocking, that instead of arms, there was now just a cold presence. She closed her eyes and tried to hug back. It was far better than nothing at all.

"Do you ... if I ... would you want me to ... I mean, do you want to be ... not stuck? I could ask Yunie if she ... sometimes she can Send ... people?"

He ... would be gone again but if that was where he was supposed to be then that was what should happen. Right?

Her arms felt so warm against his cold essence. He held on for a moment longer before letting go. Ghosts weren't meant to really touch people.

"I'm ... I'm not sure," he said. His brow creased, and his voice full of a sense of being lost that he'd had for months. "On the one hand, it would be nice to be ... unstuck. On the other, if there's something I'm supposed to do before I move on, I need to do it."

And what he didn't say aloud was that he was terrified of finding out what the afterlife was truly about.

Rikku nodded quickly, stepping back and hugging herself. She was a little chilled but ... but that was good. It meant she wasn't imagining this. Right?

"It's ... yeah. It's ... you don't have to decide, like, I mean, now, 'cause it's just if you ever ... if you find out you are stuck then you ... then you ask me and I call Yunie and it's really easy to do and ... yeah." She nodded, oddly relieved he wasn't leaving just yet. "So you ... don't know what you ... need to do? How do I help?"

He considered her offer. There were a million things that he wanted to ask, but most of them seemed out of her power.

"Do you have any suggestions as to where I should head to next? I'm sick of haunting Elsinore, and there's not much to do in an airport after you've been there for a few weeks."

Rikku thought for a long moment. "There's a mall cop in Toronto that Jude and I are kinda working on. I think he's nearing a nervous breakdown. And I've heard Arizona's nice? There's a desert there." She bit her lip. "You're ... you're not staying, then? H-here, I mean. You could scare the crap out of the new students and ... I don't know."

"I don't think I can. I don't think the administration would approve of an alumni moving in to haunt the school without filling out all the proper paperwork first."

If he could have, he would have turned all blue from sadness. As it was, he couldn't even cry. Ghosts have no real bodily fluids.

~~Not dirty.~~

"O-oh." Rikku swallowed, then nodded. "You ... you sh-should travel. See all kinds of places. Mel and I - she's new - we ... we went down to Florida, on a road trip thing? It's beautiful. It's gorgeous and warm and there's a beach and ... you'll ... stay in touch, right? I mean. If you. If you can ... I don't know if you can w-write or ... hold a phone ..."

"I'll try to," he said, wishing there was a better way to express emotions. "I'm not too good with corporeal objects yet. I'm trying to work my way up from spectre to poltergeist." He smiled. "But I'll do my best to keep in touch from where ever I end up."

"Please do," she said softly. "I'd ... like to know you're okay. I mean. As okay as you can be, yeah?"

She fidgeted. "Should I ... Hermione knows lots of stuff, and there's a library here. I can ... research, maybe? There has to be a way. To find out something that'll help. Right?"

"Sure." He moved in closer. "And, it's still Homecoming weekend, isn't it? Alumni don't have to go home right away."

"It is," she said, blinking quickly so maybe he wouldn't see that she was tearing up. She wasn't. At all. She was totally cool. "We, uh. We should vandalize something, before you g-go. Yeah? Something fun."

He noticed her blinking, but he didn't react. There wasn't much he could do for her in his current form.

"I would love to vandalize something with you," he said earnestly. "And perhaps set off a volcano if there happens to be one about."

"We should get one," she said impulsively. "Where did you get the last one? I have spray paint and smoke bombs and let's go to town."

He tried to remember. "Duo and I stole the first one from the Homecoming dance, and Kawalsky mad me one for my birthday. I'm not sure where either the he or the dance committee acquired them from. And spray paint and smoke bombs sound like an excellent was to begin."

"I think Kawalsky's gone," she said, shaking her head. "B-but I can totally look that up. Figure out how to make one. Maybe we ... set it up in the park? Or outside the dorms. Wherever. Yeah?"

"Yeah, that would be great. We could make a mess of the school lawn, or try to get that one duck in the park that always bothered me. It'll be entertaining." He oped it was, more for her benefit than his.

"It will," she grinned. "Let's make a huge mess. And see if we can blame some of the other alumni. I can be pretty sneaky, you know."

That idea was one of the best things he'd heard in months. Not that he'd heard much, mind you, but it was still near the top.

"That would make a perfect weekend."

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School grounds, Saturday afternoon

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