Bastille’s stare flickered over this stranger’s aura with vague intrigue as he spoke, but he didn’t really care, in all honesty. They accepted most who came by and he saw no issue in letting someone join in part, or whatever. Did Bast give a fuck if he was contained at the Starpool? Nah. If he was curious about what they were doing as a group, he could have someone come update him or some shit. If he just wanted to chill and haunt the place without engagement, who was he to complain? He wasn’t.

Bast shrugged, and commented idly, ”Uh, I don’t see a problem with it. You and your... Force shit can hang here if you want.” He squinted slightly. ”Do you want us to, like, visit you? Or are you a solitary ghost?” A pause. ”I mean, we have ceremonies here, so I guess you’d see us then. Y’know, if you’re... stuck here. And interested in, like, social interaction. Or whatever.”

”Uh-huh,” he said in place of a “you’re welcome”, yawning slightly. Whatever Rad had given him had truly knocked him the fuck out for a while there, and while he was obviously awake now, he was a little groggy still. He paused as the ghost offered a name, and realized belatedly that he’d neglected to offer his own (again). ”Oh, yeah. ‘M Bast. Nice to meet you and shit.” Nice to be haunted by you? Whatever. Semantics and all that jazz. He considered for a moment and then provided, ”We can have, like, ghostly book club. Or tea time at the Starpool. Ya’know, the likes.” A pause. ”There’s no where else you can... hang? What if we set up an ouija board or somethin’ in our camp?”

He had no idea what exactly made something “Force” heavy, but he assumed it was something ghostly. Ghost energy. Spiritual shit. Maybe they just had to make the Observatory seem haunted to make it a good... place to appear. Or whatever made this guy able to come to the Pool and not elsewhere. (Bast was still half convinced the Observatory already was haunted, frankly.)