03-16-2020, 12:47 AM
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His favorite places? A faint sigh escaped from pierced lungs. Five hundred and thirty-two years allowed time for plenty of sightseeing, visiting the grandest sites and views all while never having to pay for plane fare or a place to sleep -- although, admittedly, haunting a hotel room and ordering copious amounts of room service desserts was fun on its own. The poltergeist tilted his head idly in thought, reflections of seven wonders galore glazing his dull eyes. It saddened him to realize that Ivan would likely never be able to witness the world as he had; a sympathetic twinge pulled downward at the intact corner of lips. Tanglewood was all he would know, glimpsing beyond the fence through photographs and stories.
Realizing teeth caught on his lower lip, Beck straightened, chasing the visions from his eyes. What could be impressive enough to be considered a favorite place? Rising to stand, the boy glanced to the west, then to the east, then west again. Crooked teeth sought the comfort of gnawing flesh once again, razor-sharp points tentatively testing the barrier between skin and vessel. "O-oh... favorite places?" he echoed, racking his memory for answers before rasping, "Um, yeah, I'll take you to one. It's kinda far, though. Want me to carry you?" To further extend the offer, he lowered himself, tucking his legs like a camel might and presenting his back for Ivan to climb upon despite the paw-sized tar pit of a wound gouged between jutting shoulder blades.
Whether Ivan climbed aboard or not, the wiry feline forced his limping steps to be gentle as he traversed the cracked sidewalk, bandaged paws silent save for the slight shuffle of cloth. There really was no specific destination in mind. He hoped to stall for more time to figure that out. But as Beck passed houses of near-uniform design and sprouting yards, a gap in the pattern caught his eye with an archaic wall strangled by creeping ivy. The little ghost paused, head rearing in interest. The black iron gates of the local cemetery stood before the pair, slightly ajar from a breeze. Glancing to Ivan, he nudged the kitten with a chilled nose. "We're here," he murmured, pushing the gate aside with a paw before slipping inside.
He perched himself atop a rounded stone marker, his stump of a tail uselessly swishing as he wobbled precariously before recovering his balance. Hazel eyes watched his living brother, unsure how well received the final resting place for bodies would be. His ears flattened, worry tugging brows upward before he cautiously explained, "This... um, this is my favorite place. 'Cause, I dunno, it's just... quiet, y'know? And... it's nice." The thought of his remains finally beneath six feet of dirt was almost calming, a wrong being righted after centuries. And yet no bones could be recovered, much less buried. Melancholy overtook his freckled features, pearly claws digging into the weathered headstone. Sucking in a sharp wheeze, he pressed for a different subject, "What do you think?"
Realizing teeth caught on his lower lip, Beck straightened, chasing the visions from his eyes. What could be impressive enough to be considered a favorite place? Rising to stand, the boy glanced to the west, then to the east, then west again. Crooked teeth sought the comfort of gnawing flesh once again, razor-sharp points tentatively testing the barrier between skin and vessel. "O-oh... favorite places?" he echoed, racking his memory for answers before rasping, "Um, yeah, I'll take you to one. It's kinda far, though. Want me to carry you?" To further extend the offer, he lowered himself, tucking his legs like a camel might and presenting his back for Ivan to climb upon despite the paw-sized tar pit of a wound gouged between jutting shoulder blades.
Whether Ivan climbed aboard or not, the wiry feline forced his limping steps to be gentle as he traversed the cracked sidewalk, bandaged paws silent save for the slight shuffle of cloth. There really was no specific destination in mind. He hoped to stall for more time to figure that out. But as Beck passed houses of near-uniform design and sprouting yards, a gap in the pattern caught his eye with an archaic wall strangled by creeping ivy. The little ghost paused, head rearing in interest. The black iron gates of the local cemetery stood before the pair, slightly ajar from a breeze. Glancing to Ivan, he nudged the kitten with a chilled nose. "We're here," he murmured, pushing the gate aside with a paw before slipping inside.
He perched himself atop a rounded stone marker, his stump of a tail uselessly swishing as he wobbled precariously before recovering his balance. Hazel eyes watched his living brother, unsure how well received the final resting place for bodies would be. His ears flattened, worry tugging brows upward before he cautiously explained, "This... um, this is my favorite place. 'Cause, I dunno, it's just... quiet, y'know? And... it's nice." The thought of his remains finally beneath six feet of dirt was almost calming, a wrong being righted after centuries. And yet no bones could be recovered, much less buried. Melancholy overtook his freckled features, pearly claws digging into the weathered headstone. Sucking in a sharp wheeze, he pressed for a different subject, "What do you think?"