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message 1: by B L Jones (new)

B L Jones (bljonesbooks) | 164 comments Mod
......


message 2: by [deleted user] (new)

((Posting here in the hopes that someone will RP with me... :D))

Nikolay floated around the place with wide eyes. Floating, is that any way to describe how he was moving? He glided with superior skill around the shop, often stopping to stare at fashion trends that were unknown to him. What were these revealing clothes designed for women? How disgraceful and embarrassing would it be to reveal that much skin. He blushed at the thought, it was just so inappropriate. There were a few people populating the shop, touching the clothes, checking the price tag, shaking their heads and moving on to a cheaper section. What did clothes matter anyway? He looked down at his own ratty and slightly singed clothes. "Not too bad, f I may say so myself." He looked around again to see if anyone had heard him speak. No-one every heard him. It was like he was invisible.


message 3: by B L Jones (new)

B L Jones (bljonesbooks) | 164 comments Mod
Soviet Unicorn wrote: "((Posting here in the hopes that someone will RP with me... :D))

Nikolay floated around the place with wide eyes. Floating, is that any way to describe how he was moving? He glided with superior s..."


(want to rp?)x


message 4: by [deleted user] (new)

((Sure! Yay, yes! ^^))


message 5: by B L Jones (last edited Oct 16, 2013 11:00AM) (new)

B L Jones (bljonesbooks) | 164 comments Mod
(ok x)

Soren walks into the shop, he is meant to meet his older brother here later, but being dead doesn't exactly mean you have loads to do. Every minute of your day as a ghost is free time, Soren never thought he'd hate having nothing to do, nothing to really worry about.

Although thats not technically true, he worries about his brother.A lot. Damien was meant to leave on his book tour a long time ago, but he won't. Soren knows he blames himself and Soren wants to make his brother see that it isn't anyone's fault but the people who murdered him.

Damien always was over protective, and if he'd been there than Soren knows Damien would have stopped him from getting into that fight, or at the very least have faught along side him. Damien was always a good fighter, and so is Soren, it comes with growing up on an Irish estate.

Soren feels trapped in this world, not free like you might imagine, it's almost suffocating. Not that he'd know, considering Soren no longer needs to breath. Soren has secretly spent hours trying to breath, just one at a time, but it hurts so much, like the core of him is on fire so he stopped doing it.

Most people pass by Soren in the shop as he walks aimlessely among the living. Damien had always been the one to love books, Damien is the writer, Soren is the artst. Or WAS. He handn't drawn or painted anything since he died. Being an artist was the thing that Soren loved most about being alive, it was his life line, the thing that defines him most, a way to move past his horrible life before and create a new future. But something stops him every time he looks at a sketch pad or a pencil, he doesn't know why, but he feels like.....he's lost something he can't ever get back, he needs inspiration, but thats hard to get when you're dead. Being a ghost feels NOTHING like being alive, everything feels a little duller, more grey instead of technicolour. It's an artists worst nightmare. Anyone's worst nightmare.

Soren looks at the clothes absently. Soren ever had any opinion on clothes. In that way he is the sterotypical art boy with his torn jeans and tight fitted plain white t-shirt. Pain and choal smudges all over the bottom of it. Soren runs a hand through his wild golden blond coloured hair, his cobalt blue eyes flashing as he notices another ghost.....


message 6: by [deleted user] (new)

But not being able to be heard nor seen was also one of the advantages of being a ghost. He could knock over anything he wanted to. Like so. He picked up some ballet flats from a colourful shelf and dumped them onto the floor. And not be expected to pick them up. He could pull some crazy faces right in front of people, and they would just walk right through him. He could spill his secrets or guts onto the floor and no-one would care. Life was so easy when you were a transparent being. And, human nessecities were thrown out the window with his life. He was no longer burdened with the need to feed, sleep, breath or urinate. But, of course, this came with its disadvantages. Thee were too many to list, he wouldn't know whee to begin. Nick continued to browse through all the clothes, as if he were a customer. It was strange how he could still interact with the clothes and various other items, but no living thing. Not even a dog. A small boy walked through him, derailing his train of thoughts. Nickolay felt the strangest of sensations...one where he felt like he was living for a tenth of a second. Like the boy's beating heart had brought his back to life for a second. This was insane. Now he was feeling things. "Blame it on the nostalgia..." He spoke to himself.


message 7: by B L Jones (last edited Oct 18, 2013 09:51AM) (new)

B L Jones (bljonesbooks) | 164 comments Mod
He considers this ghost for a moment. Soren moves around the shop slowly. Reaching out to touch and then recoiling. He has been going through periods of not being able to feel things physically, there are even moments when he spaces out mentally and doesn't come back until a couple of days later. It scared the shit out of Damien when it first happened.

Soren looks back at the ghost then, he looks lost, not physically lost, but mentally. A little frustated too. Soren decided that he must be a ghost the moent he saw him, only a ghost can look that at a loss in this world. Soren hadn't met many ghosts, but this one he feels compelled to talk to.

Then again every ghost he's ever met has ended in disaster. Every one of them has either been dead not long ago, which means they were still crying and grieving over what they've lost. Or they'd been here for ages and had gone completely mental.

Soren no longer craves life constantly, he see's no point in it. But he still hasn't embraced being a ghost, he doesn't want to yet as he's too afraid of losing himself.

Soren isn't sure what to say to the ghost as he moves towards it. It's kind of comforting to know that even in death he still doesn't like talking to people. For Soren his life had been all about his art, mates and relationships just hadn't really come into it that much. So apart from the occassional one night stand he never really spoke to anyone apart from his brother. And now he CAN'T really talk to anyone apart from his brother, even Soren has to appreciate the irony in that. He comes to stand right behind the ghost,
"Uh, hi. How do you define what's beautiful?" he says, and attepts not to cringe at the strange question he just voiced, like i said, NOT good with people.


message 8: by [deleted user] (new)

A tiny bit surprised at the sudden voice, he decided that he would answer, even if that person wasn't talking to him. "Beauty is a fragile thing. The road to it is treacherous. Unlike other things, beauty comes in multiple different forms. It's up to you, as to what you define beauty as. We all have our own minds. Beauty, in its purest form, does not exist in reality, but in the world that's up here." He tapped his head and turned around to face the person who may or may not be talking to him. Nick assessed the boy briefly before returning his gaze to the blue eyes that appeared to be looking at him. He looked into those eyes, trying to determine if this boy really did see. Nick returned empty-handed. He couldn't tell. He just couldn't. He just ended up drowning in that cobalt, which held no emotion that he could see. He really needed more practice at this. But, 86 years had rusted up skills that he used to be so good at. Picking out lies, playing backgammon, defusing bombs...now all so foreign to him.

"Do you see me?" Nikolay asked, in a considerably smaller voice. He had a pocketful of hope tucked away in his mind. Along with that, there was excitement, fear and anxiety.


message 9: by B L Jones (new)

B L Jones (bljonesbooks) | 164 comments Mod
Soren hasn't breathed once since he died and his heart has remained a useless lump inside his chest since the night someone stabbed a knife through it. Soren used to ache with the need for his heart to beat. He wanted it more than anything. Strange how something so important had become only a memory. He can't even dream about it because ghosts don't sleep. Soren never slept much anyway, but you don't realise everything you could lose until it's simply...gone.

Soren meets the ghosts eyes unflinching, not even bothering to hide the intensity of his fire blue eyes. He knows it makes people uncomfortable, and is a trait both Soren and his brother have. Soren has always been overly perceptive, he likes to think it makes up for his total lack of social skills.

The ghost is pale and he doesn't sound English. Then again Soren has the weirdest accent, a mixture of his Irish father and Italian mother, although he has lived in England for a while now. Soren has never felt like he belonged anywhere, his accent makes him sound out of place no matter where he is. So in a way it suits him. Just one more thing that makes him not normal. Well, apart from the being dead part, that's probably worse.

The ghost sounds Russian, if he had to guess and the ghost definitely isn't new. Soren wonders about his death, most likely something traumatic. He seems reserved, but Soren can't help but sense an inner softness that could be found if Soren spent time trying to find it.

Soren tilts his head, messy golden blond hair falling foward, he says carefully,
"Yes. I'm dead too, fun isn't it?"
When he gets no response at first Soren continues
"The word beautiful is strange. It means lots of different things to lots of different people, to me beautiful is something that i not only KNOW i can draw for hours, but that i WANT to draw forever. I judge what is beautiful by what inspires me to draw. You make my hand twitch for a pencil and some paper. You inspire me, and i'm dead, so thats really saying something. I know that sounds weird, but i am weird, so it's hard to tell sometimes."

Soren is all to aware of how mental he's making himself sound. The silver flecks in his cobalt iris' almost spark with interest. Being dead will do that to a person, even an unsociable one.


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