Post by Cynthia Allista on Sept 27, 2010 16:07:08 GMT -5
so one for all
& all for one we for we we could sing in such harmony
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“Oh look. I’m talking.”
Oh, oh, now, I’m thinking.
Oh oh, look, look! Now I’m threading- Amazing, right?
The air was thick with spirits. They hung and clung and oozed and dripped through the air, clogging every breath with a different smell and taste. The space around the old shrine was stained with them, though Pokemon or human- or some other force- couldn't be told. It was the kind of environment that Cynthia reveled in. She felt calm and secure, like the ghosts were a protective blanket. And maybe they were. They had been so vengeful and cruel when she first found the weathered building. Pulling her hair, throwing things, scratching at her clothing- all of it. But she was used to this treatment, and set about to tidy up the run- down shrine.
It had really been in quiet the bad condition. The paint was peeling and it was full of nasty splinters. The inside compartment for offerings was filled to the brim with disgusting, rotted food; she had literally smelt the shrine before she saw it that morning. Perhaps the worst thing about it's decrepit condition was the runes and symbols. They had all faded in a way that offered no peace for the wayward ghosts who clung to this place. This was why they were so unfriendly- they felt the living hadn't respected them. This most likely wasn't true, it was just that this area had no one to take proper care of holy sites.
Someone like Cynthia. She set to work immediately, even if her channler days were behind her. She did what she could, which meant she cleaned out the food, smoothed down the shrine to her best ability, then reapplied the runes while chanting to calm the spirits while she worked. The ghosts were much happier, even if she had sacrificed a full days traveling to help them. Evening was starting to set in just as she finished, which meant putting her own lunch in the offering spot while pouring Monty, her Meowth, a bowl of Poke-Kibble. Head bowed, she prayed silently. The whispers of the ghosts were the only thing that could be heard in the stillness.
His Trainer occupied, Monty sniffed the bowl of food before him and snorted. It was fine grade, but he was a cat used to catching his own food. The basements of the tower he and Cynthia had lived in were brimming with mice and other goodies. He stretched, arching his back so high it seemed it would snap, then flopped down on his backside and surveyed his surroundings. It was a small clearing surrounded by shrubbery and trees, with one path that was worn from years of travels and prayer. The shrine sat in the middle of this clearing, and was surprisingly untouched by anything except the elements. He knew that the veil between death and life was thin here, and that was most likely why; He couldn't see the ghosts like Cynthia, but he could feel them.
A bush just to his left shook lightly- just enough for him to hear, but not his Trainer- and he swiveled his ears to the side. His claws slid out instinctively, and he hauled himself up and into a crouching position. He stalked closer, his belly fur rubbing the ground. His claws pin-pricked the ground, and each step was made with a slight popping sound. When he was in range, he warbled his hindquarters and pounced, hoping for a tasty treat.
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NOTES !?;; ghosts are pretty?
STATUS !?;; this post is done!
TAGGED !?;; just Cynthia and Monty for now. x)
WORDS !?;; 527 words!
OUTFIT !?;; clothes?
CREDIT !?;; JADE !? @ caution 2-0 :;:; Lyrics by Never Shout Never- Harmony