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 Posted: Fri Aug 19, 2011 10:15 pm
Amrita was devastated.
The ghost Floresce that had appeared in her room was something that shook her to her rotten little core, and it could have only meant one thing; her tank was too small. Her precious fish were dying! Upon further inspection there were more than just the one she had woken up to; there were eight of them in total. Eight ghost fish...there shouldn't be eight ghost fish, there shouldn't even be one! She prided herself on her fish, and she was letting them down.
Gathering up one of the fish in a bag of water, the little Vetala quickly left her room with every intent to bring the ghost to the maul, hoping that someone there would be able to tell her what was wrong. As it were her quest was distracted, instead coming across a...rather familiar undead student. One that might help her...hopefully. Now...how to approach him. Maybe she shouldn't; after all, she was a fish killer. The most deadliest of them, with not one, but eight fishie lives under her belt. Well, if she wore a belt.
"U-um...Ex...excuse me?" She squeaked out, huddling the bag against her chest, the ghost fish not even staying completely in the bag.
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Posted: Fri Aug 19, 2011 10:46 pm
The Floresctival had surprised him. Initially, he was pleased to discover that it celebrated fish and that in and of itself reminded him of home. On the other hand... It was a festival. And a festival meant large crowds of people. His enthusiasm for meeting said people had diminished over time, turning him from an attention-seeking missile into another Amityville recluse.
But the Floresctival had changed it when he discovered the racing seahorses. He had delighted in the little creatures, and was looking forward to trying to build a miniature race track. Perhaps he could use that to meet others, and maybe... Maybe he could even build his own small clan of people he could rely on?
He hoped so. He was quickly growing tired of being alone.
When Amrita approached and hailed him, Merope couldn't help but to stare. Not at the fish. There was something familiar about her. Did he see her in a class before? "Um... Hi? Can I help you?" Merope asked, squinting. "You look awfully familiar, by the way."
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Posted: Sat Aug 20, 2011 8:18 pm
"Eh? Oh...um...I think...Lit studies?" She guessed, not knowing how far off she was. "I just...remember a shoe rack, and f-fi..." The word was too difficult to get out, and so she didn't. Even now, the fire was more memorable than what class it had been...which was odd, considering DC was there, and DC never went to Lit studies with her. Curious.
When she remembered her purpose for flagging him down, the rotted little child looked up at the equally rotted Leviathan, and what was left of her lip began to quiver. "Um...My fish..." She held the little water bag out at arm's length so he could see it, but the ghost fish didn't follow it right away. In fact, it floated around near her chest until it realized ohey, the water moved! It lazily swam-floated forward, putting itself back into the bag.
"I...I don't know what happened!" She was still very, very unhappy.
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Posted: Sun Aug 21, 2011 1:33 pm
The shoe rack rang a bell in Merope's mind. He did... something with a shoe rack. He and Aymet, actually. But other then that, he could not recall the exact class either. Or what happened. Perhaps it was for the better that way -- while he was possibly the dampest undead student, even he had an aversion to fire.
"Your... fish?" Merope echoed, staring at the bag as it was offered. His eyes widened as the ghost lazily followed the direction, moving from Amrita to the bag. Curious, he reached out and gently moved Amrita's hand enough so that the fish was once again out of water, and stared as it went to move back into the water.
"Well," he began slowly, "At least it knows to stay in the water and not anywhere else? I think that is a plus." The undead boil flicked his tail, looking uncertain. "Unless it's not supposed to? Is something wrong with it?"
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Posted: Sun Aug 21, 2011 6:25 pm
She let Merope move her hand, thinking it was some super important test that would help him figure out how to fix what was happening. Oh how wrong she was!
"But...but..." Her lip wibbled again, looking down at the fish that only sometimes remembered to keep all of it's appendages in the bag of water; right now, a fin was hanging out. "I...I don't own any ghost floresce! I've never bought one!" She lamented, still quite convinced that her fish had died and respawned. "There were eight of them in my tank this morning! I don't know how they got there!" Her voice was becoming increasingly more panicked.
"Do you think...my tank is too small?! Come see!" A small, backwards hand moved to grab hold of Merope's, and with only a minor stumble she turned and dragged guided the taller boil down to her bedroom, the one with the lovely mild scorch marks on the bottom of the door from all the times DC had fallen asleep against it in hallway banishment. The little beast was currently passed out in a crude, probably completely unsafe pet carrier, so he was of little threat to either Undead.
Once they were inside, she gestured unhappily to the tank on the floor. It was a fair size on it's own, but when there was an incredibly amount of fish in it...
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Posted: Mon Aug 22, 2011 12:20 am
Merope’s jaw opened. Closed. He stared. He simply stared, his mind swiftly emptying of everything and anything to think or do as shock took over. Amrita telling him that she did not own any fish of that type wasn’t the cause for his affliction. Nor was it the sudden action of the ghoul pulling him away. On another day, that unusual action would have been the cause for stammering and a muted glow that communicated embarrassment. Even the scorch marks at the bottom of her door did not deter him. If anything they merely made him pause briefly. It wasn’t as if he was unfamiliar with the marks. His own Wrathalos was keen to occasionally scorch his walls, forcing Merope to apply elbow grease in order to get rid of it. It was the sight of what was in her room that gave the reason for his silence.
Amrita had the most impressive Floresce collection that Merope ever seen. Big ones, small ones -- he even caught fleeting glimpses of the non-gold variety, forcing him to look again and blink in astonishment to ensure that he was no seeing things. But this... This! Nothing could have prepared him for the sight in front of him. Not even his journey to Amityville Academy through the ocean could have event hinted at the numbers and variety before him. “How did you fit them all in there?!” He blurted out, using both hands to gesture towards the tank. “I. Just. How?!”
There were so many! He couldn’t fathom how Amrita managed to fit them all in such a tiny tank. Perhaps the tank was like the minipet closet? But the minipet closet was... Elsewhere. It was more for storage than for display.
He shook his head slowly, trying to settle his jumbled thoughts into place. “Do you have another tank? Something to... To...” He gestured again at the tank. “Something to put some of the fish into? To break up the overcrowding?”
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Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2011 5:18 pm
"idon'tknow." The little one murmured, releasing her grip on the boil's wrist and placing the ghost fish's bag on the edge of the tank just so she could fidget with her hands, making her fingers link and twist. "I...don't remember ever buying most of them..." Maybe they spawned? She shrugged, gaze still firmly planted on the floor. At his question, she turned and looked around her room; it was pretty bare, just the necessities and various books strewn across the desk and floor (including a curious copy of 'what to expect when you're going to pieces'), and shrugged again.
"Umm, n-not really, just..." She gestured very weakly to the pet carrier, where DC's angled head could be seen resting against white hot claws, snoozing away. "I...thinkitsbesttonotmovehim." She was sure Merope would agree.
"I could go buy some, I guess...? I don't want to give up my fish!"
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Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2011 7:56 pm
Merope bit the half of his lip that remained, running his tongue over its edge as he thought. There were times where he didn't remember things either. But at those times, he suspected that part of his brain either fell off or was straight-up missing.
When Amrita looked up and around her room, Merope followed her gaze. And stared. Death Charm! He remembered that one rather well. He patted his pockets before stopping, realizing too late that he lacked any sort of water balloon or squirt gun.
Wait. He wasn't here for that. Merope shook his head to clear it, before gesturing to her room. "Actually, I think I can help you out... If you don't mind us borrowing them for a bit. See, it's like this..." Merope then launched into his plan and left her room several minutes later, plans whirling through his mind as he went to gather all the pieces.
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