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 Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 11:43 am
_________Alleyways As WellI Extended description of Caden II Extended description of Ethan
III Prologue & The Yellow Pill IV Juvenile Delinquent
V Midnight & Tangibility VI Breakthrough VII RP with Elazu
VIII RP with Ryder IX RP with Uziri X RP with Serra XI Quest Intro
XII Grey Matters XIII Quick Fix XIV Tempest ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••XV The Incident XVI Hello Once More XVII ORP: Funtimes at the park AGAIN
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Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 11:44 am
I Extended description of Caden _________Physical AnalysisDue to his situation at the time of death, Caden has, in a nutshell, become the London fog. At his will, he is able to dissipate into a fog-like state, with no constant shape; yet he can also reconstitute himself just as rapidly, gathering his sparsely-spread consciousness into its human form. Because of that, he remains invisible to human beings most of the time, with the exception of a certain few he has formed a permanent bond with.
However, under the most favorable shade of sunlight, and particularly during the first few minutes of dawn, you may see him as well as anyone else. His long, tussled hair is a naturally-bleached blond, extremely wispy, and therefore follows every whim of the wind. Caden's eyes are a piercing turquoise -- the color of the ocean found offshore of the Caribbean Islands -- creating a huge contrast against his mellow-colored hair and pale face. Though, in his short lifespan, Caden's eyes were clear and full of hidden ambitions, they are now more obscure and clouded, as a result of his experience throughout the centuries.
Note: Due to complications to be mentioned later on in the history section, Caden is unable to solidify his right hand. It remains constantly in a fog-like state, trailing away from his forearm._________Fashion SenseTBA._________Behavioral AnalysisCaden doesn't like to speak. Therefore, his facial expression, the flickering of his eyes, and his physicality are extremely important in an attempt to understand him. Few have ever heard Caden speak, and even fewer have heard him carry a tune, though he denotes that humming is his favorite hobby. Around people, Caden subconsciously puts on a cold exterior in order to defend his inner naivete and willingness to trust. Though it was mostly displayed during his time alive, Caden is extremely unselfish towards others, and has always devoted his time and efforts to someone other than himself.
Because of his "condition", Caden has remained alone for eons by himself, unable to physically communicate with a human being, thus losing his affinity for this type of contact. At the moment, he is most likely to be found traveling the streets of London by himself, or dwelling mostly in his own imagination. Anyone can tell that it will take quite a lot of effort to bring him out of this trance of sorts.
whee the ocean, rivers, cold temperatures, early dawn & twilight, hot apple cider, chocolate, the grass growing between cobblestones, trees, the city, lights, carnivals, dinner rolls, tea (and he's got a right to, doesn't he? Being British and all), animals with antlers, cigarettes, books, music, old firearms & weapons
stressed talkative people, those who walk through him without apologizing, the heat, airplanes & cars (modern machinery in general), spectator sports, eggplants, litter, cats, pollution
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Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 2:32 pm
II Extended description of Ethan _________Physical AnalysisEthan is a slim young man who got his particular figure from practicing sports with the pros back in the United States. You could say money gave him his stature, because without it, he wouldn't have gotten the exercise that he did. Coming from a well-to-do celebrity family who always had paparazzi on their tail meant that Ethan's superfluous presentation has always been of great importance, and still is. Because it is quite easy to spot Ethan's signature brown hair (which attempts to copy Becks's haircuts and claim them for its own) and gold eyes during his frequent trips out and about, he has made an effort towards getting a natural tan as often as he can, to hide the contrast between his skin tone, hair color, and eyes. Though he attempts to stay anonymous, what Ethan fails to notice is the attention that he gets from his habit of wearing the season's latest styles._________Fashion SenseThe season's latest styles. No matter how much they cost. Hey, the guy's got good taste -- what can I say? This winter in London, layers are definitely in. As are pea coats, turtleneck cashmere sweaters, berets, scarves, and boots. Not to mention a designer canvas bag for his "schooltools". By the way, black is still the new black._________Behavioral AnalysisObviously, you can't blame Ethan for being just a little bit cocky, cold, and unfeeling. It's not his fault. He was brought up this way. Luckily for you, Ethan has a great sense of humor to accompany his faults. Besides that, Ethan can be the physical carnation of life itself. Usually soft spoken in public, Ethan's alter-ego (which shows up at parties and large social occasions with alcohol) has a reputation for having the shortest fuse in Hollywood. But again that con comes with a pro: if he isn't set off unexpectedly, Ethan often becomes the life of the party.
Throughout his life, Ethan's loved ones have been constantly notified of something that seemed awkwardly missing in the child's development by his peculiar outbursts. It was normal for Ethan to be the quietest, gloomiest boy on the Beverly-Hills block during the daytime. However, once in a while a desperate and unexplainable rage would build in him that simply rises and crashes like the ocean tide (this leads to him becoming a boarding school student at the age of 14 -- explained in further installments of the story). All in all, though, Ethan is the celebrity kid you've always suspected he was... just with a few phenomenal quirks.
Note: You will most often see Ethan in "party mode". Just because.
whee air-travel, bustling capitols, throbbing music, 11pm~4:30am, coffee, wine (or alcohol in general), cell phones, cars, clothes, the city, lights, roller coasters, cream cheese, soccer, tennis, cigarettes, dogs, movies, flirting
stressed bragging, loudmouths, rumors, room-temperature salad, waiting, mud, litter, bad breath, pollution, snobs
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Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 8:18 pm
III Prologue & The Yellow Pill
Story 1/4 (Caden) I'm not sure as to how long I've been living here. In the textile factory, I mean. A few others here have told me I was going to turn fifteen this year, and I thought: sure, why not? See, Mum and Pop hadn't shown up for a while. Actually, I've got no clue as to who "Mum and Pop" are -- besides the fact that they're the ones who left me at the front gate of the factory and never came back to get me. So, I guess, no one will ever be able to tell me how old I really am. I don't think I could call these people here at the textile my own mum and pop, even though they've kept me and fed me and clothed me. It's not right for some reason. Sometimes, I wish they could have left me to die as a babe. But I've been told to be careful what I wish for.
My name's Caden, and they call me an orphan. It means my mum and pop are gone forever. We call this year the year of 1898, but don't go asking me why. I'm not supposed to ask why. I listen and obey, is all I'm supposed to do. And right now, they're teaching me how to feed wool to the machines. So I do as I'm told, you see? I always do as I'm told. Who knew that could kill someone?•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• It's not anymore, but it was -- London was -- filthy as hell. Worse than what they tell you now in those history books. But that's because they're real scared now. They've tried to forget us on purpose, like we never existed, but... we're still here. Soot from just about every chimney here rested on the streets. Alleyways aren't ever checked for garbage or other "discarded articles", and our rain? Our rain just goes ahead and makes everything muddy every time it came down pouring. What's more is that no one dares to go out after the streetlamps do because London was most filthy with the poor and homeless who'd steal anyone that passes by.
The textile factory here used to be like heaven, almost. It seemed nearly a playground for us kids, except it was so grey and quiet you begin to wonder if there's something the matter with all the children who work here. Of course, you don't ask it aloud, though. I know how dim I was, now, because each clink of the rotating wheels and belts made out of steel and iron served merely as countdowns... until something horrific happened. But you don't know it unless it's your turn next.
The usual scream in my ear woke me up at four. In the morning. So I folded up my mat and brushed my teeth. I'll get breakfast at three in the afternoon along with both lunch and dinner, if you catch my drift. They handed me wool for the first day today. I took it, and went to the feeding machines. See, my job was to put the wool into the spinner, and after it's done, someone else takes it out and you've got yourself a nice roll of yarn. Too bad that was my only mistake. Before I knew it, my right hand was gone and the others were screaming. I don't blame them.
No one could afford fixing me up at the doctor's, so I was given two pounds and a yellow pill. They opened the doors for me then (it was raining before, but it had stopped now), and there was nothing left to do except walk out onto the cobblestones and dirt.
Where? It didn't matter. I knew what was going to become of me, and my hand. What was left of it was numb anyway. I gave my two pounds to some poor bum kid around fifteen. He needed it more than I did, and I thought something about maybe being fifteen myself. The last thing I saw was a big bag of trash in the alleyway.
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Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 8:21 pm
IV Juvenile Delinquent Story 2/4 (Ethan)[color=slategray][b]Author's Note[/b][/color] The following piece is not meant to represent the author's personal feelings towards specific subjects. It serves only as insight to Ethan's history. In fact, the author rather likes the British and their accents. Ethan Brandt
Journal Entry #1 (8/31/03)
Mrs. Chuckle, English, Period 4
PROMPT: Please begin writing about your childhood, and turn it into somewhat of a story. You may include topics like the people involved in your life, games you enjoyed, major events, and how everything that's happened has changed you for better or for worse.
For better or for worse. Does ANYONE ever change someone else for the better? Not like teachers teaching kids to behave, I mean. Is anyone actually GOOD ENOUGH to make that big of an impact, to push another person to do something just as "good"? And even if that happens, who's to judge what's good and what isn't -- what's better and what's worse? Don't you judge for yourself? Don't you HAVE TO do that, especially when there's no one else around? When no one even tries to take the time to help you make a decision, teach you about good and bad and better and worse and all that kind of s**t? Please excuse my French.
No one taught me. Not that I'd want to learn it now, anyway. But they could have tried. They SHOULD HAVE tried. Tried to be around more, to talk to me, to tell me what they know. Because I didn't know very much; I still don't think I know very much now. But my parents weren't ever there when I needed them. You know how some kids think they have it bad because their parents are there at the most inopportune times? Well, my 'rents aren't even there then. Mister and Missus Brandt always had something better to do. Some party to attend, some movie to film, some sight to see. Better. Better. Better. Yeah, that's right. All THAT -- anything ELSE was better than staying with their ******** SON.
So that's what they did. Some parents. So they DIDN'T stay with their son. Instead, they flew around the world, as if I didn't exist. Not that they didn't lavish money as heavily on me as they did for themselves, but money really DOESN'T buy everything... right? While they were away, I was stuck with the damned nanny. Okay, quite a few nannies. None of them stayed, and I'm pretty damn sure I had something to do with that.
See, I don't actually plan on turning this journal entry, or whatever, in -- so I'm going to share a little secret with you. Not a BIG secret. Just a small one. One little secret that doesn't even amount to very much: the nannies all quit because I wouldn't stop getting myself ******** drunk. Right. Drunk. What did YOU think the 'rents brought back from their trips to France, Germany, New Zealand, and Mexico? The LIQUOR, of course. Boy were we well stocked! It was an accident at first, but I took to it (it meaning alcohol) damn well, if I may say so myself. At age 8 I was downing whole bottles of beer at a time.
Now what made you turn into such a horrible alcoholic, you ask? Perhaps it was the people involved. Perhaps that's what chance and a shitty childhood gave me. Like presents, some might say. Yes, I'm playing the blame game. But then again, who are you to judge what's horrible and what's not? In either case, it doesn't really matter to me. Because I'm here now, aren't I? And I'm stuck here. On this crumb-of-a-country where people like you speak English funny, and where the steak isn't nearly big enough. Well, you know what I have to say to you, Mrs. Chuckle? ******** IT ALL.
You were expecting something worse, weren't you? Well, you're lucky that I decided to stop writing before I strayed from the damn prompt. Maybe I SHOULD turn this journal entry in. I need an Advil.
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Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 8:22 pm
V Midnight & Tangibility Story 3/4 (Narrator)Caden died at the last stroke of midnight, when Big Ben struck twelve. There was no mourning, no burial, nothing. Street lamps closest to his pale -- dead -- body went out promptly, as they do when everyone is supposed to be asleep. Because everyone was asleep. Not one sound was heard other than the dripping legacy left by the recent rain.
There were no candles around, and there wouldn't be candles around for another four and a half hours, at least. But there was light. Its brilliance seemed to be muffled by the fact that it was inside something. In all actuality, it was inside someone. The light pulsed. White; yellow; green; blue; turquoise. Turquoise: the color of the ocean found offshore of the Caribbean Islands. At that, the fascinating array of light and color ended. Simply as he had fallen, Caden's body faded into the remnants of his very own afterglow.•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• You see, in nature, one may not take away something without giving back something else in return. Nor may one create something out of nothing. In this case, Death took away life; but even more so, Caden's heart. Usually, when life is taken away, the physical body remains as a tribute which balances both sides of the necessary equation. Here, however, was a void where Caden's valuable heart used to be.
For all his mischief and wrongdoings, Caden kept his heart pure of the blight of the world. It may be his naivete that saved him, or it may be by his own power that he resisted the grime and filth that was designed to rub off. Either way, something that was an vital part of reality went missing when Caden died, and Nature itself had to find a way to account for the loss. (A yellow pill, a painkiller, was swallowed before Caden's untimely death. Little did he know that it was not a pill, but an alchemical seed. However, that plays a minor role in a certain metamorphosis that is about to take place, so we will not be elaborating on its details any further.)
You could say that there was a hole, a disturbance in the force, or some kind of emptiness that needed to be fulfilled after Caden's death. Searching for something abundant and of enough substance to take the young boy's place, Nature discovered the London Fog. Already aware of the rift, the spirit of the London Fog agreed to the terms:
1 His and Caden's consciousness are to be combined.
2 Neither can begin to remember their pasts until certain triggers have been activated.
3 The host will be Caden, and the spirit's tie to this child cannot be broken until after a peaceful death.
And thus the transformation began -- a process that would take place over centuries. Our fog spirit's essence was slowly pooled into the darkness where Caden's light once shone. Though time passed and London was built and rebuilt, the growth of a spirit-baby continued, just as the tips of the skyscrapers would penetrate higher and higher into the heavens.
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Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 8:28 pm
VI Breakthrough Story 4/4 (Ethan)“I literally tripped over him.” That’s what I tell anyone when they ask about Caden. Because it’s the truth, the only truth, and nothing but the truth. Put me on a lie detector, but the story wouldn’t be any different. I. Tripped. Over. Him. Him as in Caden, you know.
My ‘rents telephoned me two months after I got settled here, because they wanted to see the school. You’d think they would have done that before sending me, but no. Honestly, I was glad to be able to show them around, anyway. Boy was I a naive. But who could blame me? It was the first time I’d ever been out so long by myself without the “Scooby Gang” -- what my friends and I call ourselves -- and the usual parties, hotrods, drinks, ANYTHING. And so that’s why I was dumb and vulnerable and girly and sassy. I know better now.
First, they tell me that they’d be arriving within a week, and I should get my room ready, and stuff. That was also the first time this parenting thing has happened. So I do it. It’s weird, but I DO get my room ready, and stuff. Second, they call two days later, and I’m told that the plane is scheduled for two days after that. Which basically means they’ll be at the London International Airport Thursday at 4:30am. Not too shabby a time, but at the time I wished it would have been later. Little did I know, it would be the best thing that’d happen to me, the plane not being scheduled for later and all.
Moving right along, I wasted my day sitting and waiting until Wednesday night. Then at 3am, my alarm clock rang for me to wake up, shower, and get ready. I do, much faster than usual, and take the cab to the airport, and fell asleep during the ride. I tipped the driver well because he didn’t bother me about it one bit, and the music in his car was a nice soft jazz which I definitely appreciated. What can I say? I’ve got high class taste.
So there I was, at the airport. Shivering. No, freaking out in excitement. Luckily, at 4am, people aren’t awake enough to make fun of you. There was half and hour to kill at the coffee shop, then at the souvenir shop. I remembered it vaguely because I had visited after getting off my plane.•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• My cell phone rang at 6:30am. Or, rather, it vibrated against the hard plastic chair I was sitting on, making an annoying buzzing sound, and woke me up. My parents weren’t coming, and it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. I just wish I had known better at the start. So I left the airport the same way I left it two months ago: alone. This time, though, I decided to walk.
To be continued on XIV: Tempest.
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Posted: Wed Jan 03, 2007 12:28 am
VII RP with Elazu
Status: Complete  A boring day of studying brings Ethan and Caden out on the trip of a lifetime. Meaning to go to the park, the two actually get caught up in a thunderstorm, and meet a strange boy named Elazu. Though he may be special, like Caden, there is something shady about this toddler. Whatever it might be, Caden isn't concerned, and will follow Elazu to the ends of the earth playing "Kings and Pirates" in the sandbox. Ethan has decided that he will need to talk to Risika, Elazu's guardian, to further learn about the origin of this baby -- who may be an important link to discovering Caden's own origins.
The King (Ethan) catches the Pirate (Caden) here
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 5:44 pm
VIII RP with Ryder
Status: Ongoing  Ethan had simply intended to buy some Earl Grey Tea for his would-be grumpy baby boy when he discovered another spirit-child. Stumbling over to the guardian and a pheonix boy, Ethan lost every ounce of his dignity trying to set up a play date. The two strangers, Logan and Ryder, turned out to be quite friendly, and agreed to enjoying an afternoon together in Ethan's dorm room. From his previous experiences, Ethan subconsciously knows that this may turn out to be something way more complicated than just a day of videogames and babysitting. What it will become, though, has thus far remained unknown to all four players.
The "Eager Beaver Chronicles" can be found here
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Posted: Fri Jan 05, 2007 12:49 am
IX RP with Uziri
Status: Complete  After getting into an-accident-that-almost-was, and having to skip a class, Ethan and Caden wind up in a coffee shop with two complete strangers. At first, the situation catches both parties feeling awkward and guilty. However, as time progresses in the fragrant store, our four characters start to open up. While the two human (or nonhuman) guardians start chatting, so do Caden and his new friend Uziri, the latter pair in baby-talk. Everyone seems to have some quirk of their own, and it seems like this whole coffee shop thing could possibly develop into something intriguing. Not that the whole nearly-running-into-a-person incident wasn't already exciting enough.
The fall, the save, and everything in-between is located here
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Posted: Thu Jan 11, 2007 5:47 pm
X RP with Serra
Status: Ongoing  A day at the mall becomes something out of the ordinary. Friday is the day of firsts for Caden. First visit to the shopping center with Ethan, and more importantly, his first spoken word. Something tells Caden that he has seen Serra before, but as of now, he doesn't even know her name. How could that be? Too bad Caden and Ethan don't know quite as much the reader knows, because if they did, it would blow their minds. So many things have already happened in 5 posts, who knows what other surprises will visit Ethan and Caden by eleven-twenty three?! Today just couldn't get any better, and everyone is anxiously awaiting the unfolding of the story.
The remnant of yesteryear's rain meets her foggy memory here
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Posted: Wed Mar 14, 2007 12:58 pm
 Caden is the spirit of the London Fog, and while he may not be quite so foggy anymore, he still remains somewhat a mystery. Start an activity, or go somewhere with Caden to learn a bit more about him, and so he can learn a bit about himself. While you may not be able to learn everything, a piece might be just what he needs. 
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Incantation Esprit Captain
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Posted: Fri Mar 16, 2007 8:37 pm
XII Grey Matters
Quest 1/3 Caden wasn’t born a gloomy child. Meaning, he hadn’t been one to sulk about the house… until recently. It was nearly the end of the semester for Ethan, who had been attending a private university in a small town just outside of London. Due to a long list of bad habits (drinking, partying, procrastinating, and it goes on), Ethan had a lot to catch up on, if he wanted to pass his classes. Naturally, this put Caden in an awful condition. Seeing as his guardian didn’t leave the dorm room unless it was absolutely necessary, the fog-child missed out on quite a few of his regular walks to the park, the coffee house, and the grocery store. Sometimes, even Caden’s breakfast Earl Grey was absent. All that, though, didn’t upset him very much. It was the extra time he had to himself that troubled the fog-baby.
Too contemplative for his age, Caden spent hours and hours studying beside Ethan. In place of biology, mathematics, English and art, Caden tinkered with unusual ideas. His mind worked in a manner that was way beyond his physical stature. Tragically, however, the product of his trying to figure out why and how he came to be sitting next to his guardian, was devoid of solution. And so, with each passing hour, Caden sunk more and more into his state of misery which was founded simply on the fact that he was missing something, and couldn't figure out what exactly it was.
In short: Caden became miserable because he thought that perhaps his brain had short-circuited, since, at times, he can’t remember things too well nor figure them out the way he expected himself to be able to do.
Such turmoil within a child who did not know how to express it in words manifested itself in peculiar ways. Instead of waiting patiently until Ethan got back from his private business (a.k.a. Monday night clubhopping in London), which has constantly been the norm for Caden, the fog spirit would now draw in a deep breath and turn into a thin “puddle” of fog before Ethan had even left the room. It took about a week of this for Ethan to notice, being the at-times-not-so-wonderful guardian that he is. However, when he recognized this act as a sign of disappointment or even dejection -- after a couple of occasions -- Ethan canceled his week’s worth of plans. He would find time to be with Caden, to figure out what was wrong, even if all Caden was willing to do was to sit side-by-side.
Unfortunately for Ethan, that was the easy part. Now he had to find out, for all intents and purposes, what Caden's problem actually was. And to get an explanation as detailed as he had prayed for out of a child who has spoken less than a total of three words in baby-gaggle, will surely prove to be immensely difficult.
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Posted: Fri Mar 16, 2007 8:50 pm
XIII Quick Fix
Quest 2/3 After cancelling all his appointments, study sessions, and parties, Ethan got down to business. That was Tuesday, leaving him a whole week ahead of him to solve the grand mystery that was Caden, which he did. The planning part, anyway.
Throughout the process, though, Caden remained down-in-the-dumps. Everything supposedly went back to normal (Ethan would take Caden out for walks, prepare delightful breakfast teas and pastries, read to him, and play video games for Caden to watch), but as the week passed, Ethan realized that his absence and characteristic lack of attention was not what caused little fog-child to be unhappy. With one possibility shot down, and a quick solution to the problem crumbling, Ethan had to find other ways to cure Caden; so he took him to the doctor.
Naturally, the doctors didn’t know anything about spirit children, especially one made of fog. And even if they did, none of the doctors they knew could have helped Caden anyway, because he wouldn’t let them touch him. No matter whom they went to see, Caden merely had to become intangible for the doctors’ fingers to slip through his now fog-like composition. Most of the time it caused an uproar in the medical suites of uptown London, and the two -- Ethan and Caden -- have had to make a quick break for the fire escape more than once. Such incidents as these were what helped Ethan decide that Caden’s increasing depression seemed not to be a medical issue.
With all plausible possibilities eliminated, and no parenting experience at his disposal, Ethan sank into his plush computer chair, with Caden staring off into the distance by his side. The rain had started again, though it was not uncommon to see it around, year-round. More alike in facial expression and in thought than they knew, Ethan and Caden furrowed their eyebrows, and frowned at the dead-end with which they were presented. Ethan telephoned his mother.
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Posted: Wed Apr 18, 2007 8:39 pm
XIV Tempest
Quest 3/3 As if he was in a dream of some sort, Ethan arrived at the airport with Caden after the phone call, and suffered from an awful bout of deja vu. For once, his mother was going to step up. For once, she had agreed to fly in right away. But no matter how much Ethan wished for that to be true, he found himself waking up again to his vibrating phone, and a flaky parent on the other line. The sterile and empty hallways echoed Ethan’s cry as his most recent cell phone dented the linoleum floor, its contents sprawled across the tiles. Exasperated, Ethan sat back down on the cold airport seat and began to sob. It took a while for him to realize what he was doing and to become embarrassed, but once Ethan figured out what he was doing (it was no big puzzle that a grown boy would draw many stares with his crying -- no matter how empty the airport might’ve been), he got up with a sigh. Without exchanging any words, Ethan left the airport with Caden trailing close behind, still wrapped up in his foggy memories.
Unbeknownst to either the guardian or the spirit-child, the second part of their surreal -- and may I mention upsetting -- stop at the airport would be even more absurd. As Ethan was tracing his exact steps back to his dorm, time seemed to pause. Unnoticed by the lonely pair, Ethan and Caden continued to pace along the sidewalk, their strides toward home uncertain. Clouds froze in midair and the atmosphere was filled with static, and the sky warned of an approaching storm. Finally snapping out of their trance, Ethan and Caden hurried onward, away from the nearing rain.
Then it happened, as it did months and months ago. Ethan turned the corner on Cornwall-Dash Street and Moore Avenue, and tripped. While he was focusing on his own troubles as a parent/guardian, Ethan had neglected to notice that Caden strolled on quickly, until he was ahead of him (though we must remember that all the trouble he went through was for Caden in the first place). Nonetheless, at this specific turn, Caden stopped and became rooted to the ground, his normally fluid constitution completely solid. Ethan watched in horror from where he had fallen as the child seemed to turn to stone in front of his very eyes. What he didn’t recognize was the marvelous tale that was presently unfolding within Caden’s mind, and the fact that this was the first step towards helping the spirit child understand his history.
Strong winds suddenly whipped through the streets, and then promptly grew silent. Storm clouds centered around one small, insignificant statue and his pale companion. Under the darkness of the overcast skies, a thick fog rose, and a blinking yellow light illuminated a small sphere around the participants of this ordeal. In the midst of this event were two moving shadows that came upon the outline of a gate quite noticeably, for they were the only moving figures in the vicinity. One silhouette knelt down, as the other placed a hand on that one’s shoulder.
Before the fog, the light, and the shadows retreated from whence they came, a soft whimper was heard.
End.
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