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5th floor common room - Morning

Jacob had woken up to a lot of snow, a powerless dormitory and a growling stomach. The latter two had cause a problem because cornflakes were just cornflakes and Jacob wanted to more. The blizzard hadn't caused much of an obstacle, not when you could change into a werewolf built to brave cold weather. He'd been across the island in a flash and while he'd gotten some strange looks for showing up in just a pair of jeans at J,GOB, the baker hadn't asked any questions. Which was once more evidence of how much the people on the island had gotten used to situations like this and luckily, the bakery had a back up generator. So Jacob had gotten a huge bag full of pastries for 'those poor students'. He suspected that J,GOB hadn't really been expecting a whole lot of customers.

So now, said bag had been upended on the dinner table. The bag itself had been thrown into the bin in Jake's room. It wouldn't do to have anyone take notice of the teeth marks on it. Jacob lay sprawled upon the couch in just a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, his hair still a little wet, while he munched on a muffin. In his boredom, he might just end up eating his way through the stack of food.

Best not to let him stay bored.

[Brought to you by Food Delivery Services Jacob Black. Open, of course.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Do you think we could make it through the weather in order to get there?" wondered Bod. "It looks nasty out there."

"If I knew there was going to be electricity at the end of it?" Elena asked, digging her cell phone out. "I'd be out there in a snap. We could strap tennis racquets to our shoes and wear goggles, it'd be kinda fun."

Ringing ........ but no answer.

"Fuck."

"I take that to mean we're stuck here," he said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a smile. "At least it's somewhat heated?"

"The fire's a nice touch," she sighed, putting the phone back into her pocket. That required some effort, since she had extra pockets today, and they were all in the way of each other. "We could roast marshmallows, tell ghost stories."

She stopped sharply. "Sorry? Is that ... rude?"

Maybe actual ghosts found the idea of ghost stories to be seriously offensive.

Way to stick her foot in her mouth.

"It's not," he said, unable not to laugh lightly at her reaction. "There's no need to apologize so don't worry. The ghosts themselves told me plenty of stories of their own so I think those could be qualified as ghost stories if you interpret them differently. They liked to think themselves masterful storytellers."

Nehemiah Trot, especially, could go on and on for hours about the romanticism of the world. Bod had fallen asleep during a few of those.

"So you're saying you'd have way better ghost stories than the rest of us," she said, flushed but recovering fairly quickly.

It was like a curse: she had the pathological ability to jam her foot into her mouth at all times. Which made her wonder how she'd ever been made a Turk.

"Though I suppose ... It makes sense, right? You're dead, you're not going anywhere, stories would be a good way of passing the time."

Edited 2010-01-16 16:55 (UTC)

"Most of the stories I heard were most about the experiences of whoever I was talking to at the time," he shared, letting his mind wander back to some of those stories. "About their past, how they lived, what they did. A lot of them came from long ago wars and times when the world was a very harsh place."

"Did it bother them?" she asked. "How the world seemed to be changing? The whole, 'stupid kids, get off my lawn' routine."

"Oh, it did." It very much did. "Some of them weren't very happy when I came to live there. They were very set in their ways which, I suppose, makes sense. The world was a very different place. The only good thing is that, unless they talked to Silas, a lot of them didn't know how radically the world had changed."

"So why were they still there?" Elena asked. "I've always heard that ghosts are just people with unresolved issues, who can't make it back to the Lifestream. Is that true, or did they get stuck somehow against their will?"

"They couldn't leave the graveyard," he explained, smile appearing on his face but eyes making him look like he was elsewhere. "I don't know exactly why but these ghosts didn't wander. The graveyard was their home. If they needed anything, Silas would acquire it for them."

"Did they want to?" she asked, unsure if this was a sensitive subject. "Maybe it was their home, and they liked it that way."

(and I am FLEEING for RL-ness for the next few hours. SP OK?)

"They didn't," he said, shaking his head. "Most of them, the ones that I was familiar with, were happy with how they'd lived their lives while they were alive and considered the afterlife their time to rest. That's one of the main reasons I couldn't stay there."

[Totally fine! Have fun!]

Edited 2010-01-16 18:06 (UTC)

"Because you had a life to lead?" she asked. "It makes sense. You're starting out, you need to go and experience."

"Good guess, you're right," said Bod, nodding once. "Silas told me the same thing before I left. So far, he's been right. I've enjoyed what I've done so far and wouldn't have had that opportunity if I'd stayed."

"It makes sense," she said, musing on it. "They're ... you need those memories, those experiences. Hard to look back when you've got nothing to look back on. How long have you been gone?"

"Not long." Bod tipped his head back, trying to calculate the time. "Around a year, perhaps? I spent some time traveling around England and the surrounding countries before deciding I'd like to some stateside. This school's literature seemed interesting enough so I came. I wanted to settle for a bit."

"Can you stay in touch?" she asked. "Write letters? If your ghosts aren't corporeal, then I'm not sure they could write back, unless Silas takes dictation."

She gave him a wry smile. "This school's literature doesn't do the place justice."

"I can stay in touch with Silas if I really have a need to contact him," said Bod. He hadn't needed to so far and he considered that a good thing. "When I left the graveyard, I lost the ability to see and talk to the ghosts so I can't see them."

The ache that came with that was manageable now and able to be easily disguised.

Elena's jaw dropped. "Seriously?" she said. "You ... could you get it back, if you went there to visit, or was that a ... permanent sort of ..."

Condition of leaving?

Oh, oh ow.

"I haven't actually tried to go back." He didn't think it would work anyway. His time there had finished, the reason for being there solved. "As far as I know, it's permanent. I have memories though."

"I'm so sorry," she said. Words didn't do it justice, but they were all she had. "Did you know, before? So you could ... say good-bye?"

Maybe he'd return there, whenever he died? She couldn't tell if that would be a reassuring thought or not, so she skipped it.

"It's all right, really," he said, putting reassurance and warmth in his voice. He leaned forward some, just to prove that he meant what he said and wasn't just saying it. "I knew beforehand that something was happening so I did have the time. I said goodbye to my mother and father and I'm comforted to know they'll still be there if I do go back. It's really all right. They took good care of me and I'd like to do them well by living my life."

Elena nodded, understanding. Trying to, at least. Things had gotten crazy, and he had told his family what they meant to him. And might even see them again.

"And you know they love you," she added. "They'd want for you to be happy, so all you can do is ... miss them and go forward."

"Which is what I'm doing," he promised, smiling easily. "I'm sure they'd be laughing at me if they knew how incredibly cold I am right now. And call it a nice way to acclimate."

5th floor common room - Morning

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