08-20-2018, 09:23 PM
[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]Ghosts were very much real, and Zjarr knew this because he had quite literally been one before. Once his physical form had died, and he was not able to possess it (or any forms) for quite some time, leaving him but a lonely, desperate spirit that could not directly communicate with anyone. He could only interact with objects and hoped that those around him would take a hint. He remembered Deut resolving to bury his corpse, only to watch it mysteriously fly across the camp into Zjarr's quarters with not a (living) creature touching the damn thing. He had to admit, that had been funny as shit, but nothing else beyond that was even remotely enjoyable.
Perhaps he was a little sympathetic for the lost souls that were trapped into such horrid forms, unable to possess a physical body and directly speak to those they wanted to interact with rather than give vague signals through their surroundings. Maybe some spirits were able to talk to mortals, but the many ghosts he had seen lacked that advantage. And in a way, he did feel a little bit of sorrow for the anguished fellows.
But he didn't feel as if there were any ghouls in the Observatory...no, he would have felt them otherwise, wouldn't he? Regardless the wolf would address the situation plainly: "Hmm. Just be careful, a'ight?" On that note he'd flop down next to the young fireball, setting his head upon his prosthetic metal forepaws as he watched the dim light flicker as a n energetic dancer.
It was then that Zjarr had to suppress his amusement, for he had concocted a brilliant idea: to briefly exit his form and act as a spirit, to humor Onision and the other inquisitive folk that would arrive for the sake of participating in someone else's weekly tasks, or perhaps to see if there really were ghouls and goblins roaming the territory. Hell, if nothing was going to happen tonight, he would make something happen.
Perhaps he was a little sympathetic for the lost souls that were trapped into such horrid forms, unable to possess a physical body and directly speak to those they wanted to interact with rather than give vague signals through their surroundings. Maybe some spirits were able to talk to mortals, but the many ghosts he had seen lacked that advantage. And in a way, he did feel a little bit of sorrow for the anguished fellows.
But he didn't feel as if there were any ghouls in the Observatory...no, he would have felt them otherwise, wouldn't he? Regardless the wolf would address the situation plainly: "Hmm. Just be careful, a'ight?" On that note he'd flop down next to the young fireball, setting his head upon his prosthetic metal forepaws as he watched the dim light flicker as a n energetic dancer.
It was then that Zjarr had to suppress his amusement, for he had concocted a brilliant idea: to briefly exit his form and act as a spirit, to humor Onision and the other inquisitive folk that would arrive for the sake of participating in someone else's weekly tasks, or perhaps to see if there really were ghouls and goblins roaming the territory. Hell, if nothing was going to happen tonight, he would make something happen.
[glow=#f24b00,2,300]how'd it get so scandalous?[/glow] — ☼
✰ — I'M JUST A SOUL WHOSE INTENTIONS ARE GOOD
zjarr ignibus / tanglewood / hellcat / weapons dealer / plot