Cemeteries of London - (Theo Heart)

OoC: Inspired by Coldplay.
edit: As Theo Heart left the BA for an undefined time, anyone can take his place. Just pm me so we can make an agreement. There is a story behind it, but it's not important.

It was cold, almost winter, and raining as usual. London was predictable in many ways, and that it always rained was one of those things. But an amorpher did not bother with such things. They were satisfied with all kind of weathers. Simon, on the other hand, was not, and it bothered him. He was not supposed to be weary of the weather, and he was aware that it was against his nature that he was.

Maybe it had something to do with his recent experience? He did not remember anything from it, but it had something to do with a human and some kind of conference. Perhaps he was becoming more and more human? He shuddered. Humans were proud, egoistic and self-centered, not humble and small like he was. But, if he thought like that, was he really any better than the humans? Was he becoming too proud?

A thunder broke the monotone sound of rain dropping on gravestones. Then another lightning followed, lighting up the graveyard in an eerie light which could scare even the bravest man. Simon did not admit it to himself, but he was actually a bit afraid. He had not been afraid that way before, so it was a strange sensation for him to feel, and that made it more confusing, and scarier.

The sky was once more lit up from a lightning, and Simon saw a dark figure moving against the gravestones. A ghost? Simon shuddered, but tried to stay calm, convicting himself that he did not believe in ghost, and that it was no such thing. Then he heard feint steps stand out from the sound of rain. Someone, or something… was here. Simon became a mouse and tried to hide from the stranger. Now he was really afraid.

OoC: I'll be using Vanessa Ricardi Tresco, link in the signature. Good luck, and I hope to enjoy this!

BiC: Vanessa loved graveyards. Punishment and damnation for the wicked, and eternal rest for the righteous. It was... poetic, to her. This graveyard was no exception. She practiced flicking raindrops out of her way without touching them-- it was no easier the hundredth time than the first, but it was something to keep her occupied. The rain pooled at her feet, causing her long black cloak to swish and slosh soothingly behind her. Her low-falling hood kept the water out of her face and at the same time kept her identity a secret. She knew not who roamed these paths, only that no good ever came of traveling alone at this hour. She kept a firm grip on the walking stick she had grabbed off of the ground earlier. It was very steady, oak, maybe? Tacheon would know, were he there.

To her left and right rose mausoleums, which could only mean that under her feet loomed the catacombs of the dead. She pulled her cloak a little tighter. Just because she liked the atmosphere didn't mean she wasn't afraid of it, and she had every reason to be. The dead tended not to sleep peacefully when Vanessa was around. The rain began to pour harder, and this time it wasn't with the warmth from earlier. It carried a dead chill on its breath. Ugh, she shivered, I should really be more careful with my choice of words. Her cloak no longer made any reassuring onomatopoeia, but instead seemed to be dragged backwards by the pooling water in her bootprints.

Vanessa was panicking. She knew it, but could do nothing about it. However, she found something that she could devote all her concentration to; above the roar of the rain she could discern, through her combat training, a rather faint rustling. She whipped around as quickly as she could, slowed as she was by the length and weight of her thoroughly soaked cloak, but saw nothing when she was completely turned around. The effect was rather unnerving, until she looked down. It was a weasel-- or some kind of ferret-- down by her feet. She stared at it, and it looked cold and miserable. She prodded it a little with her foot, and it looked rather reproachful, then scampered away.

"How interesting," Vanessa said, starting very quietly and crescendoing into the rest of the sentence, "that my presence here today is graced by neither man nor beast. Pray tell though, strange creature, what are you then?" She wouldn't move until she got her answer, no matter how long it took to get it.

Simon was paralyzed. Wether it was the figure infront of him, or the fact that it was a graveyard, he did not know, but he was so scared that if he had not already been white, he would have been by then. The cloaked figure, presumably female, had noticed him, and knew he wasn’t only a ferret. No mere human could have guessed that by just looking at him. It had to be a ghost! Simon thought. Then it kicked him, and sendt him flying across the ground. Or at least that’s what Simon perceived.

Then the figure spoke. The rain and thunder damped her voice, leaving Simon to hear only "my presence here is neither man nor beast”. He looked up at the faceless cloaked figure, and as if all of the night’s forces were trying to prove something, the dark sky behind the figure was powerfully lit up by series of lightning. Simon let out a faint yelp and ran as fast as he managed away from the ghost.

He rounded a corner, and then another one, all the time running away from the ghost. Then he stopped for a split second to look back to see if he was followed. Nothing… He turned back and stared straight into the ghost’s cloak yet again. He turned left and scurried away between some graveyards, before he stopped in the shadow of a grave, just as the sky was once more lit up again.

OoC: You may play a little hide and seek, but Simon won't talk to Vanessa yet. He believes she's a ghost, and will just try to escape.