Home from home (tag Greg)

[Wil Marsh]

Greg expected Nicki to want to know more details about his current state, and what he did. He didn't exactly want to get into that. Telling a ghost he hunted supernatural beasties on a regular basis might not have been the best idea.

Then again, having her think he was a murderer probably wasn't so great either.

He leaned over to read the new line on the computer screen, but it wasn't a question.

Go. Promise, I won't peak.

Greg stood and looked around with a questioning look.

Go? And do what? he thought.

He heard the familiar squeak of hinges that needed some WD40 and glanced over as the bathroom door swung open.

"That obvious, huh?" he asked with a smile. "I guess I must look as bad as I feel."

He walked past the bathroom and into his bedroom to get a pair of flannel pajama pants out of his dresser. They were worn and faded, but very comfortable, and he needed a lot of comfort with the beating he'd taken.

Greg stood in front of the bathroom door, facing the living room. It was strange talking to someone when he couldn't see them - almost like talking to himself.

"Alright. I'm going to take a shower," he said a bit awkwardly. "Uh... make yourself comfortable, I guess. If you have anything you want to tell me go ahead and type it up and I'll read it when I get out."

He wasn't much of a host as far as guests were concerned, and he didn't know what to do at all with this particular kind of guest. The shower would wake him up a bit and relax his muscles.

Greg flipped on the light in the bathroom, put his folded pajama pants on the toilet, and started the water. Waiting for it to heat up, he considered pouring a salt line in the bathroom doorway, but that would be kind of rude. After all, she didn't seem to want to hurt him, so putting up something to repel her after he'd told her to make herself comfortable would be kind of weird.

And she had promised not to peak.

Greg closed the door and locked it out of habit, since he knew well enough it wouldn't keep her out if she decided to drop in. He stripped off his clothes, all engrained with dirt and dried blood, and got into the shower, pulling the curtain closed. He stood under the hot water for a moment, letting it do its work on his aching muscles, before quickly washing up. He didn't typically take long showers, but now that he had an invisible guest he didn't really want to stay in there longer than he needed to.

[nicki]

"That obvious, huh? I guess I must look as bad as I feel."

"Yes honey, you look like roadkill." If Nicki hadn't been a ghost, she would have patted him on the head at that and then turned him around by the shoulders to send him to the bathroom, but she was a ghost and whilst she could have still done all that, it was her experience that told her people didn't like to be touched by unseen hands. So instead she just smiled and shook her head at him.

"Uh... make yourself comfortable, I guess. If you have anything you want to tell me go ahead and type it up and I'll read it when I get out."

Hmm....anything I want to say?

Nicki thought about that for a minute, turning to look at the computer screen in case it gave her insipiration. There was so much she could sit and type about who she was, what had happened, all the questions she wanted to ask him, but sitting at the table like a secretary wasn't her style. She doubted he'd really want to sit and read a novel when he got out of the shower anyway considering how tired he'd looked.

The bathroom door closed and the soft sound of the lock clicking into place made Nicki chuckle.

"As if that's going to keep me out, silly." She grinned, waiting with her ear pressed to the outside of the door, listening for the sound of Greg stepping into the running water. Satisfied that she wouldn't end up bumping right into him in the small space if she walked through the door, Nicki stuck her head in and peaked around.

Sure enough, Greg was busy scrubbing away in the shower so she stepped through the door completely and tilted her head to appraise his sillouette in the curtain. Natural curiousity (as well as a tendancy towards voyerism she'd picked up since she'd died) brought Nicki nearer and a giddy smirk ran over her face.

"Just a little peak. He won't even know."

Nicki leaned forward, pressed her ghostly face through the curtain, the steady stream of water pouring down going right through her skin without even wetting it.

"Wow. You do scrub up nicely don't you!" She beamed, eyes drifting south for just a moment. Suitably impressed and content that she'd seen enough, Nicki pulled her head back and left him to it. She was half tempted to pick up his dirty clothes and put them in the trash for him but that would have been a dead giveaway that she'd not kept her promise to not peak so she left them where they were.

Returning to the main room, she decided to do Greg a little favour in return for the treat she had just witnessed, going to the kitchen to pour a glass of water out, then making a small detour to his bedroom to pick up the little bottle of painkillers she'd spied on his dresser earlier in the day when she'd been snooping around.

She set both down on the kitchen table beside the computer, tapping a little message for him for when he came out of the bathroom.

Think you need these.

Finally, Nicki returned to the couch again and blinked on the tv, forgetting that there was very little on his set to watch. She got up again and typed another message on his computer.

P.S. Get cable.

[Wil Marsh]

After the short shower, Greg grabbed a towel from the rack mounted on the wall and wrapped it around his waist. He opened the curtain slowly, peeking around it as if expecting to find a stealthy intruder. He didn't see anything out of place and there was nothing to suggest anyone was currently present.

Then again, there wouldn't be, would there?

He dried off quickly, feeling a bit creeped out at the thought that someone could be standing there with him without him even realizing it. He pulled on the pants and scooped up the dirty clothes along with the towel, tossing the whole bundle into the wicker hamper in the corner. He'd figure out what to do with the clothes later. The pants were probably salvagable, but the shirt would have to go. He'd probably burn it.

He took a moment to survey his reflection in the mirror. He had a few cuts on his face and one hidden by his hair, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

The click of the lock popping out of place sounded as Greg turned the knob and opened the door. He stood in the threshold for a moment, listening for some kind of noise to indicate where his new roommate was.

Hearing nothing, he walked back to the computer to see if Nicki had decided to clue him in on her story. There was a glass of water by the laptop along with two pills. He leaned down to squint at the screen.

Think you need these.

P.S. Get cable.

He smirked at the note. He'd expected to find a long story to read when he got back. Apparantly that wasn't this lady's style.

"Trust me, if I take those I'll be useless for two days," he said, scooping up the pills and shoving them in one of the pockets of his pajama pants. "But thanks. You're already a better roommate than my last one."

He took a moment to take a few long sips of water before carrying the glass to the living room area. He put it on the coffee table and hesitated, looking at the couch. He had no way of knowing whether or not she was sitting there. He waved a hand out in front of him above the cushion. Not feeling a cold spot, he assumed it was safe and sat down.

"Sorry about the cable. I travel a lot, so I'm not here much. Not enough to justify the amount of money I'd have to pay to keep the cable running." He shrugged. "Plus, it's not like I was expecting a guest."

He took another sip of water before replacing the glass on the table.

"Well, you've probably figured it out by now, but I'm not a psychic or anything," he said. "So if you want to talk to me you're going to have to get creative... or try really hard if you're powerful enough." He shrugged. "There's probably stuff I can do to help you out. Maybe meditate or something. I don't know. Normally the ghosts I get are the angry, violent types asking for a good dose of iron to the face." Realizing that wasn't the most friendly statement, he added: "Don't worry. You don't try to kill me, I won't try to stab you."

He sat back, watching the DVD menu's animations and debated hitting play.

[nicki]

"Trust me, if I take those I'll be useless for two days...But thanks. You're already a better roommate than my last one."

"Wow, your last room mate must have been really bad if you rate a dead woman over them." Nicki said, watching with increased amusement as Greg began trying to figure out whether or not he was about to sit on a ghost. If he'd taken two steps to his right and waved his hand in the space above the other side of the couch, he'd have put his fingers directly through Nicki's face.

He settled on the seat beside her, seemingly unaware that he was sharing his couch with a spirit as he started talking about how he might be able to help her. She guessed he meant help her to move onto the afterlife or whatever it was that supposedly lay in wait for dead things, but Nicki had tried plenty of times to move on and certainly meditating didn't work at all. It made her nice and relaxed though, so not entirely a lost afternoon that day.

"Normally the ghosts I get are the angry, violent types asking for a good dose of iron to the face."

Nicki looked surprised and confused at the same time.

"You iron their faces?" She scrunched up her own face, trying to imagine what he meant by that statement, deciding in the end that he was tired and talking nonsense.

"Wait...you get ghosts on a regular basis? I knew it! You were way too casual about this whole situation to not have experienced it before!"

"Don't worry. You don't try to kill me, I won't try to stab you."

"You really know how to make a girl feel safe, anyone ever tell you that?" She was already sitting up straighter, preparing herself now that she was more informed that Greg wouldn't have an aneurysm if she physically appeared in the room. Smiling to herself as he stared at the tv, she concentrated and switched off the screen so that it faded to black and vaguely reflected everything in the room in blurred shapes. If Greg was to look directly at it, he'd see Nicki sitting innocently beside him on the couch, though she had yet to manifest herself properly just yet.

Well you did say 'get creative', let's see how you react to this before we do anything else.

[Wil Marsh]

Greg stared at the TV, deciding whether or not he wanted to watch the DVD that was in the player. He didn't watch a lot of movies. If the TV was on, it was for background noise most of the time. He also had a guest, technically - whether she was living or not. If they were going to watch something she should've been given a vote on what it was.

As he was mulling this over the TV switched off suddenly. Greg blinked, wrinkling his brows and staring at it, the remote still in his hand. Once his eyes adjusted to the sudden change, he saw a figure sitting beside him in the reflection on the screen.

He jumped. "Gah!"

He looked beside him quickly, but didn't see anyone. He turned back toward the screen, now prepared to see another reflection other than his own. It wasn't the clearest image. It was a reflection in a now gray television screen, not a mirror, so it was very shadowy and fuzzy. But it was definitely a woman with a thin figure.

"Oh. There you are," he said. "Okay. Good thing I don't have a heart condition."

He laughed softly and slightly nervously. He wasn't used to ghosts. Running from them and fighting them, sure, but talking to them was an entirely different story.

"I'm not used to this kind of thing, so..." He shrugged. "I don't know, is there anything you want to tell me, I guess? Or anything you want to know?"

He glanced over at the computer. He probably should've brought it over with him.

"I'm not sure if you wanna try, like, talking to me, or if you'll be able to. If you want to keep using the laptop... I don't know, flick the lights or something and I can drag it over."

Normally he would've just gotten up to get the laptop, but at this point he didn't want to get up unless he absolutely needed to.

[nicki]

Greg's reaction to suddenly realising he was sitting next to a spirit was fairly normal. In fact, given her track record for pulling this stunt, he was still pretty calm considering. More often than not people actually ran away at this point. His comment about not being lucky not to have a heart condition made her smile but she did feel a tiny bit guilty too.

"Sorry." She shrugged sheepishly, watching him divide his attention now between the blank space where she invisibly sat and the tv screen where he could see her slightly distorted image. Waiting until she was sure he'd see it, she waved a hand at him in greeting then slowly but surely reached over to touch one finger to the back of his hand. It was partly to reassure him that she was indeed there and also to make it a little clearer that she didn't mean him any harm. Unless of course he was a closet Britney Spears fan, in which case she would kill him the moment any CD got played.

"I'm not sure if you wanna try, like, talking to me, or if you'll be able to. If you want to keep using the laptop... I don't know, flick the lights or something and I can drag it over."

"I could try talking to you even though you're not psychic. I learned a trick using the tv which I'm still trying to get the hang of so it'll be good practice for me." Nicki stood up then and walked across to the dormant tv, her face squinching up a little as though she didn't really want to admit the next part.

"I should warn you the results are a little....hit and miss. You might not hear much at first." Putting her hand on the blank screen she started to concentrate, stopping almost immediately when she remembered something important.

"Also, this might kill your tv, so if it does don't say I didn't warn you. And just because you can't hear me now, doesn't mean I didn't warn you, okay. No trying to get rid of me if this backfires."

Satisfied he was suitably forewarned (desite the fact he probably didn't have a clue what she was doing) she reached out and touched the tv screen again, concentrating hard to get the speakers to pick up the sound of her voice.

"Can you hear me?" She asked first, sort of a tester question to see if she had enough control to maintain the frequency. The television remained off, but a low crackling sound started coming from the speakers, like static on a radio when it's not tuned to anything. Frustrated, she closed her eyes and tired again, spreading her fingers wider in case that helped to boost the 'signal'.

"Can you hear me now?" She spoke out loud, her own words falling on deaf ears, but this time a faint, raspy version of her voice came through the sound system, all be it a little broken by the process.

"Hear me." were the only two discernable words amidst the crackles, but it was a start.

[Wil Marsh]

To say Greg felt weird about this situation would be an understatement. He didn’t feel endangered, which was good for Nicki. He hadn’t expected to see her reflection in the TV screen, and it had startled him a bit, but he had to admit it was pretty damn creative.

He glanced beside him on the couch, expecting to see a woman sitting there, but as far as he could tell he was still sitting in his living room alone.

Okay, this is weird, he thought.

He saw her reflection wave at him. He was wondering whether or not he should wave back when he felt a sudden cold sensation on the back of his hand. He flinched and shook his hand, like he was shaking off a cold drop of water. He looked down at his hand and then back at the TV.

“Was… was that you?” he asked.

Greg kept glancing at the TV screen, waiting for some kind of response after he asked if she wanted to try to talk to him. He looked around and listened for some kind of sign, feeling a little like an idiot. He glanced over sharply when he heard the television speakers crackle. The entire screen was black, the TV still off and he could no longer see Nicki’s reflection.

He wrinkled his brows and narrowed his eyes, listening as the static began.

“Woah, are you doing that?” he asked.

He listened carefully for any sort of reply. The one he got sent a chill down his spine.

“…hear me…”

It was a quiet, distant whisper among the static, but he definitely heard the words ‘hear me’.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, his eyes widening slightly.

He hadn’t expected anything to actually work. He’d always been told he wasn’t open minded enough for this sort of thing.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I heard that… It was kind of creepy, but I heard it.”

He scratched his head and ran a hand through his hair. He wondered if there was a better way to do this.

“Uh… So… talk, I guess,” he said. “If the TV works for you.”

He had a few things around the apartment that might work. The stereo, an old Walman with AM/FM radio, a set of walkie talkies. He’d read a lot about EVP, but he’d never actually felt the need to try it out.

[nicki]

Nicki grinned broadly when Greg acknowledged he could hear her, the temptation to pull her palm away from the tv to clap her hands together in excitement nearly spoiling the connection she had made so she forced herself to remain focused instead.

"Sorry, you get creepy or just plain old static, there's not much I can do about that what with being dead and everything. Creepy just seems to come with the territory." She said, using the speakers once again to relay her words, with a little more success this time.

You get....plain old....dead....just...the territory.

"Opps! I didn't mean it to come out like that!" Nicki cringed, worried that Greg would mis-interpret what she'd said as some kind of threat. She didn't want to get on his bad side and receive a dose of iron to the face as he had put it. In a slight panic, she focused as hard as she could on channeling her energy into the tv so she could clear up the mistake before he freaked out.

"No, I'm not gonna harm you! This just isn't as easy as I thought it would be and like I said, I'm still getting the hang of it. You just need to give me a little time to practice here."

And what came out of the speakers this time around only seemed to make things worse.

Gonna harm you....isn't...as I thought....I said....hang...you...here.

"Agh! No, stupid tv! Stop making me sound like a crazy person!" Nicki yelled, inadvertantly putting a little too much juice into the electronics with her EVP skills resulting in the speakers squealing harshly followed by a loud bang and a small puff of smoke coming from the back of the television set. The shock made Nicki disappear completely for a few moments.

[Wil Marsh]

Greg sat quietly, his facial features in an expression of concentration as he listened carefully to the raspy voice coming from his darkened television.

"You get....plain old....dead....just...the territory."

Greg knitted his eyebrows in confusion.

"What?" he asked.

The statement didn't make much sense, but if he tried to force it to make sense it was either a threat, a warning, or some kind of philosophical musing on life in general.

"Gonna harm you....isn't...as I thought....I said....hang...you...here."

Greg stood slowly. He wasn't sure if he was going to have to run and get a weapon or what, but he certainly was no longer comfortable sitting calmly.

"So... something's gonna harm me... this isn't like you thought it would be and you said someone's gonna hang me here," he said, summing up what she had said very badly.

And then the speakers screeched, making Greg cringe and cover his ears. When he looked up after the screeching was done, the TV was smoking and clearly done doing its job.

"What the fuck was that about?" he said.

First this Nicki chick was typing him messages on his computer and giving him Aspirin, and then she was talking about hanging him? This made no sense. Then again, when had any spirits he'd encountered made sense? Never.

He waited for a moment for some other kind of communication, but he got none.

Okay, time to be a cautious host, he thought.

Greg moved quickly to the kitchen and opened a bottom cabinet to grab a large brown sack full of rock salt. Some people had spare electrical appliances and potatoes in their cupboards. Greg Marsh had hunting supplies.

Greg went to his bedroom and lined the doorway and single window sill with salt. Leaving the bag by the door, he went and grabbed his duffle bag from where he'd left it in the living room beside the front door. Dragging it into his bedroom, he closed the door out of habit and unzipped the bag.

Some people brought spare clothing with them on a trip. Greg brought weapons.

He pulled out a primitive looking knife made entirely of iron. One thing was for sure. If this bitch wanted to hurt him, she'd have a hell of a time getting to him.

"If you got something to say, you might wanna stick to typing it," he yelled through the door.