Welcome home.

Shaki led the sullen boy into the second story townhome she called home, trying to ignore the fact that his hands were in no way connected to his torso. And the fact that his torso was simply that, and it was floating about a foot and half off of the ground.

When she had applied to adopt a child whose DNA was mixed with a Pokemon's, she hadn't expected to be adopting...well...a ghost type. And that, of course, was exactly what Imago was.

So, with one hand on his back, propelling him in the proper direction, she pushed the door open wide. "Here we are, kiddo," she told him, breaking the silence. "Home."

Imago coolly surveyed the room. It was smallish, with a couch, a chair, a low table, a TV on a stand, and a coat-rack. All the furniture was worn, but not worn out. The room didn't really need to be childproofed as there was nothing really breakable in it.

The Gastly boy drifted away from his new parent, examining the living room at a closer angle. He was a bit disappointed in the choices of furniture - it would be difficult to do any real damage to any of it.

Shaki closed the door and locked it behind them, as much to avoid watching her new charge floating around as it was a standard routine. She gestured towards the short hallway. "Your room's to the left, and the only one on the left," she told him. "Why don't you go take a look?"

Imago turned to look at Shaki, surprised. "Oh!" he exclaimed, and took off down the hall. He had his own room? How awesome was that?

It was smallish, on par with the rest of the townhouse, and was very plain. There was a dresser showing signs of wear, like the rest of the house, a beanbag with some assorted pillows on top, a nightstand, and...

The boy tilted his head at the last piece of furniture in the room, though it didn't really warrant the name. Hanging from the ceiling was a piece of fabric of some kind. With the nightstand next to it, it was where the bed should be. Imago frowned and reached out to touch it. His body stayed where it had been and his hands went seemingly of their own accord.

This was the scene Shaki came upon and she stopped in the doorway, shocked. For a moment, she couldn't even speak.

"Um," she began, and Imago's torso whirled around to look at her. She swallowed and tried again. "It's called a 'hammock,'" she told the boy. "It's a different kind of bed."

Chewing on her lip, she added, "But if you want a regular bed, I could get you one."

Imago looked from Shaki to the "hammock" and back again. The ropes that made the hammock felt hard, but there were some pillows and blankets on top of them, to make it softer. Experimentally, he pushed it and watched it swing back and forth.

"Fun," he said, giving his parent a toothy grin. Indeed. He could already imagine all sorts of mischief that could be done with such a bed.

Shaki smiled back. "Great! Let's drop your stuff in here and get some food. PB&J okay?" she asked as she left to get his clothes.

"Yummy!" Imago yelped with glee. PB&J was his favorite! And, there were several ways that it could be used to sicken and disgust people that he knew of...

The gastly boy floated after Shaki, looking forward to lunch and the life beyond that.