ring_for_giles | Come Sail Away Inbox

im going to the cabin if you wanna meet me there.

Of course, I'll see you in a few minutes.

Bash is more than likely to get there first, but Giles isn't far behind, having almost literally dropped what he was doing in favour of going to aid his friend.

Bash is looking stressed, pulling out his tools--tarot cards, a set of neon sharpies bundled together with a hairtie, a half a cigar, some silver jewelry. When the door opens, he startles and looks at Giles.

"Thank fuck you're here."

Giles nods once in response, he's trying not to let his worry show too much but he is deeply concerned.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

"Something's haunting, possessing my partner. My boy. It's not acting like him properly, but it's got his memories. It's...I'm pretty sure it's a ghost, or a specter. Something that once died in a big fiery fucking something. It's angry, and it knows I know."

Giles frowns as he listens, trying to put things together in his mind into something coherent before he puts voice to it

There is one important question though...

"Do you think it'll come after you?"

"I don't know. It might. It knows I know. Couldn't resist a cruel remark once it was caught." Bash rubs at his eyebrow with a fingertip. "About not being the first to ride Jeff. And it's right, it's not, but."

"That is unbelievably cruel."

Giles places a comforting hand on Bash's shoulder, he honestly has half a mind to hunt 'Jeff' out himself to seek some kind of retribution on Bash's behalf. But that can wait.

"If it's happened before, how was it fixed the first time, do you know? Perhaps the circumstances can be replicated"

"He might get mad about me telling you this, but it's...you know, relevant. The first time was before I ever met him, back in his original world. A demon, not a ghost. A demon of sex and drugs and rock'n'roll, kinda the sort to lead you down 'the path that rocks', if you know what I mean. I don't actually know how he got out, then."

"Good to know, but unfortunately perhaps not very helpful if you don't know how he got out. Do you think... Perhaps it's something to do with the decay the ship has been going through?"

Giles hesitates, nearly says something more, but stops himself before he does.

"It might be. The specters aren't acting like they normally do." Bash looks up with a pitiful expression on his face, a little like when a kid asks their older sibling to fix a broken toy. "What do I do, Giles?"

"I don't... I really don't know. There has to be something we can do but-"

Giles hesitates again, takes a breath, and pushes through this time. It needs to be said.

"But I don't think he's the only one. I can't be sure of course, not yet, but Oswald-" he has to stop again, anxiety welling up and being pushed back down as much as he can manage. His mantle swelling just a little too, a cold chill accompanying his words "Oswald has been acting... Off recently. I just couldn't put my finger on why before."

Edited 2022-10-11 14:14 (UTC)

"Fuck, Ossie? You think he's...I can check, I've got a sense for ghosts, Death Senses. Comes with being the type of demigod I am." Shame that isn't always-active, though, isn't is?

He shakes his head. "I hate this, I hate having to wonder about absolutely everyone."

"You do?" Well that's certainly good to know "That might be useful, thank you, but not right away. I'd rather not put you in harm's way if I can avoid it."

He has to shut his eyes to focus on keeping his breathing even, to keep his ever racing thoughts in check.

"It's horrible, truly, I'm used to being afraid. I'm not used to it being justified."

"I'm already in harm's way, and my kind weren't made for safe, calm, normal lives to begin with, were we?" He takes a deep breath, his not-quite-mantle flaring with the scent of coffee and tobacco, the lights in the room dimming and pulsing as he inhales and exhales.

"I think I have work I ought to be doing. I just don't know where to start."

"No I don't suppose you are, any more than my kind is." He sighs, it's complicated and painful but... "I'd still like to confront him first, there's a chance he's simply having an even rougher time than usual, and I don't want Oswald to think I don't trust him if that is the case."

Anyway, the far more important matter here is Jeff. There's no ambiguity about what he is, as unfortunate as it is

"Is there somewhere you'd normally start? If you can sense ghosts, do you have connected abilities? Something to communicate with them directly, perhaps?"

Bash lets out a laugh. "Talk to them, touch them, bear them to the Underworld. It's in my essence, it's the ichor in my veins."

For a brief, flickering second, there's a skeletal visage superimposed on Bash's face. He is a Death Demigod, and he hasn't forgotten that. No, there's no Underworld here. But he still is his father's son.

"Forgive me if this is callous, but..."

He stops, looking down at his hands for a while, twisting his fingers together and watching the movement like maybe it will help him unravel the threads of his thoughts

"If it were anyone other than your boyfriend, what would you do?"

"Well. These ghosts don't belong in these bodies, so that's kinda something that needs resolved. I fucking hate the state of things here--back home, helping ghosts get unstuck, getting them to an Underworld Gate is kinda my job, but there's no way there from here, and that's by design and it sucks balls, man."

He shakes his head.

"But I don't know what I can do, for Jeff, for Ossie. I was hoping you'd have some bright ideas or something."

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