Okay, one: I never said 'evil'. I'm totally not evil. I'm adorable. [ but that has yet to answer the most important part of his objection, so her brows lift a little as her mouth opens, silent for a second as she tries to find words. ] I think... I don't know. Like, ghosts, they... I guess get fucked up easier than people do? I mean, it's not something you can predict, it's just - [ she has a really bad feeling this time, is all. but she doesn't know how to explain it in tangible terms, and she doesn't know how much stock she'd put into it even if she could. ] This is just, I don't know, for peace of mind or something.
That's what it was made for, I was just quoting. [ but whatever, not the point. when he asks his question, she shakes her head. ] Nope, just wear it and it'll kick some spectral ass.
[ if she were taking her usual route, eating wildlife until it doesn't work and then rotting to death alone in a locked room, she'd be able to give him a decent estimation. as it stands though, she exhales a dry laugh-breath and drops her gaze to the table, tracing a whorl in the wood with her thumb. ]
I honestly have no clue. [ her head tilts a little, and: ] I don't even know when I'm going to die - for once - let alone how long it'll take to hitch a ride to Amityville. If that's even how this goes, but... I mean, better to have it and not need it, right?
[Richie agrees that it's better to be prepared, but he still doesn't like the idea of Sally being the reason why he needs it. She can't be the only factor at play. This place was full of things they hadn't counted on.]
Would this have worked on those energy vampires? Or anything else you've seen around here?
[Give him some kind of solid idea about a foe that has nothing to do with Sally.]
[ she hadn't thought of that. her eyes lift to his now, intrigued. ] It actually might've. [ not that they got him anyway, so she's not too awful regretful that it didn't occur to her. ] And - I mean, I think there was a poltergeist once? I was basically fresh off the boat, so I'm still a little hazy on what exactly went down there. [ and now she's thinking back for real, because: ] There were these urban legend dudes running around, too. Like, freakin' hook-man and slit-faced woman and all that crazy shit. I don't know if they were real or ghosts or what, but it could've helped there maybe.
[If that's the case, then Richie feels much better about accepting the gift. He then performs a very rare act, unbuttoning his collar and the top button of his shirt, exposing his neck to the air. He slips the lock around his neck, dropping it beneath his shirt. Without another thought he quickly fastens his buttons again, smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt.]
[She had to appeal to his practicality. Richie couldn't argue with preventing death. Not long ago he would have scoffed at the idea of the necklace, but that was before culebras and meeting a ghost.]
Well this is man made, right? We'll just find someone around here good at metalwork.
[Because Seth is going to have just as much advantage over these things as Richie.]
Well yeah, but I'm not sure if this shit works if just anybody makes it. Like, I feel like the whole 'Thailand tribal' thing might have something to do with it? I don't know. [ but she doesn't want to shit on his parade, so: ] But we'll find him something. Even if it's not one of these.
Yeah. [He picks at his cereal again before taking another spoonful. He doesn't want to think about Seth not having the same kind of protection in this place.] We'll put him in soul-quarantine or something.
Soul-quarantine, [ she echoes in an exhale, grinning. sally's not making fun, i promise. that's just... an amusing concept, i guess. but the humor fades as she thinks about it a second. ] I mean, I guess that kind of is a thing. Spirits can't really cross salt - like, if you put a line of it under the doors and windows and all that. [ speaking from experience, it sounds like. ]
You'd be surprised. Like, vampires? Stake to the heart, can't come in without an invite, big giant drama queens - all true. Then the whole 'silver' thing for werewolves. I mean, I guess any silver works, not just bullets, but that's so not the point.
[ she picks idly at one cuticle with the nail of her other thumb. ]
Ghosts aren't all so bad, either. Like, the longer you're a ghost without getting your door, the more it fucks you up long-term, but most of them just kind of hang around like creeps. Or if they get really hard up to feel something, they go to some party and slide in between the shoulders of some drunk slut who won't think twice about the fact that she can't remember half the night, but that's-... Like, they've got support groups for that shit, it's not just ~okay to do~.
[ putting aside the fact that sally did a whole freakin' lot of it, last time she was dead back home. whoops. ]
Anyway, yeah, salt works. Exorcism too, I guess. I mean, salt's pretty much step 1 to exorcising a ghost anyway, so that's a thing. [ her eyes drop a little to the cuticle-picking. ] I mean, speaking from experience, I can't even begin to think of a reason I'd actually want to do that to someone, but better them than us, right?
[Wow, that's... a lot of words. And Richie takes them in, each of them, not questioning their validity, though it's not in his nature to address them all. He's seen a lot of strange things here, and weirder still is what takes place within his own mind. This is the world that Sally knows, and Richie's only seen portions of the surface.]
I know about vampires. We [meaning he and Seth] had just taken care of an ambush right before I got here.
[ it sure was a lot of words, but they're words he'll only have to hear once. y'know, now that he's been briefed or whatever.
her lip curls a little at his own words, because: ] Ugh, seriously? I do not miss that. Lately - I mean, back-in-Boston lately, they don't even really dare jump people. There's this flu thing going around, and it's pretty much balls for regular people but for vampires? Modern-day bloodsucker Black Plague.
[ sally's head tilts a little, her voice falling into a note just slightly more resigned as her words come slower. ] Myyyy roommate has it, actually. [ the roommate who happens to be a vampire himself. she... didn't exactly mention that part yet, whoops. ] So he's pretty much toast, which blows.
[Richie only knows of one roommate, one that he's pretty sure didn't seem to have any kind of sunlight deficiency. His eyes squint a little in confusion.]
Josh doesn't look like a vampire.
[The ones he knew of were pretty obvious, not that he's seen them for more than a day, but it doesn't take long to make an impression.]
[ she can't help it, a snort of laughter escapes before her hand lifts to cover her mouth. ]
No, nope, Josh is absolutely not a vampire. And I'm totally not laughing at you, by the way - I just pictured that for a second and it was kind of priceless.
[ introducing josh, the world's most neurotic bloodsucker. watch him slaughter an innocent, then have a meltdown over what he's done as he scrubs every available surface with bleach! ]
Nah though, there were actually three of us. Four, counting Nora. It was me, Josh and Nora, then Aidan. He was broody and really shitty at not killing people and pretty much the entire reason vampire drama was even our problem, but he was totally worth it.
[Richie turns over the words regarding the one person he hadn't met in his head. He doesn't trust vampires, but this particular one isn't here and not part of the equation. What is relevant to their situation is something else that she'd mentioned.]
So you'd stay friends with someone knowing they were a murderer?
[ she didn't expect that question. not because it's not a valid one, but she figured he already knew the answer just in looking at-... well okay, not all of her friends are openly homicidal.
and while there are two reasons someone could ask her that question, 'ready to judge her for her choice in friends' doesn't seem entirely likely after he carved out somebody's eyeballs in their shared subconscious, so there's a sort of subtle 'don't even worry' in her tone when she says: ] Of course. [ after a pause, she reaches into the cereal box for another useless handful and continues. ] Pretty much everyone I know has blood on their hands somehow. Even Josh, like - this body? [ a two-handed gesture to herself, though one's still wrapped around the aforementioned handful of cereal. ] Ingredient number one was the heart of a dude he'd killed. Which - I mean, I wasn't there, but apparently this was like a year after it happened, so Ray was like, all disgusting and decompose-y by then but that's so not the point.
[ she pops a few pieces of cereal in her mouth, then chews and swallows. ] Besides, I'd be kiiiind of a hypocrite if I judged people for something like that. I mean, less blood and more ectoplasm, but potayto potahto. [ it sounds like she means to end it there, but almost before she even finishes, she's remembering one specific instance in which ectoplasm had nothing to do with it. there are a few moments in which she pops a few more pieces of cereal into her mouth one by one, but then she opts to go out on a limb and tell him, god knows why. ] Well I mean - there was this one time. [ casual as all hell, in part because she doesn't feel nearly as bad about this as any normal person probably should. ]
Right after Danny tried to have me exorcised. I guess it... screwed me up or something, Josh told me I looked like the Grudge. But I figured out how to fix it. [ all verbal cues suggest 'how to fix it' isn't as wholesome as it might imply, but she doesn't leave him wondering long. her eyes lift to his now, to gauge his reaction as she delivers the punchline: ] I slit his throat with his own straight-razor.
[ bam. ]
I mean, it's not actually as badass as it sounds. He totally survived - SCH didn't even keep him overnight, just sent him home with a bandage. [ but still. ]
Richie sits up straighter, curling his fingers tightly around the spoon in his hand. Sally's words become echoes around him, muffled vibrations that encourage his own fingernail digging into the heel of his hand.
It's her words again that pull him back to the kitchen, the sharpness of her dictated actions cutting through the fog. At the word razor he closes his eyes and breathes in, forming his own reality as a blend of the present and Sally's past. When he opens his eyes he looks at her, loosening his hold on the spoon.]
No. [ it comes too quick, quick enough that her mind's reeling for something to tack on as a follow-up, something to make it a little less... y'know, homicidal. but she presses her lips together before anything comes out. sally's gonna stand behind that answer, whatever it says about her.
instead, her follow-up comes in the form of: ] I didn't have that kind of control.
[The reaction was instinctual, honest. The spoon drops into Richie's bowl with a clang and he leans forward, hands flat against the top of the table.]
What was it like for you, to make that first cut?
[He's not asking what it's like to slit someone's throat. He knows that perfectly well. It's about Sally's mind, and its process of spilling another being's blood.]
[ it's a question she didn't expect, but at the same time, it's not one that surprises her all that much. so just as he hasn't quite broken the eye contact between them, neither does she. that doesn't mean she's fully seeing him, though. words come to mind, half-answers to questions that aren't quite the one he asked, but something about whatever this is feels inexplicably important even if she doesn't yet understand why. so sally keeps those words to herself. they aren't... right.
that kind of shit, it's different as a ghost. everything is, really. even the tactile shit becomes some kind of metaphor when you've got no sense of feeling. which is why she's super not cut out for the whole ghost thing - because as a general rule, sally's so much better at tactile shit than metaphors anyway.
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[ pls just wear the thing ok ]
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Do I have to do anything to it? [In addition to wearing it anyway.]
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I honestly have no clue. [ her head tilts a little, and: ] I don't even know when I'm going to die - for once - let alone how long it'll take to hitch a ride to Amityville. If that's even how this goes, but... I mean, better to have it and not need it, right?
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Would this have worked on those energy vampires? Or anything else you've seen around here?
[Give him some kind of solid idea about a foe that has nothing to do with Sally.]
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Thank you.
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[ her brow knits. ] Now we've just gotta find something like this for him.
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Well this is man made, right? We'll just find someone around here good at metalwork.
[Because Seth is going to have just as much advantage over these things as Richie.]
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[ she picks idly at one cuticle with the nail of her other thumb. ]
Ghosts aren't all so bad, either. Like, the longer you're a ghost without getting your door, the more it fucks you up long-term, but most of them just kind of hang around like creeps. Or if they get really hard up to feel something, they go to some party and slide in between the shoulders of some drunk slut who won't think twice about the fact that she can't remember half the night, but that's-... Like, they've got support groups for that shit, it's not just ~okay to do~.
[ putting aside the fact that sally did a whole freakin' lot of it, last time she was dead back home. whoops. ]
Anyway, yeah, salt works. Exorcism too, I guess. I mean, salt's pretty much step 1 to exorcising a ghost anyway, so that's a thing. [ her eyes drop a little to the cuticle-picking. ] I mean, speaking from experience, I can't even begin to think of a reason I'd actually want to do that to someone, but better them than us, right?
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I know about vampires. We [meaning he and Seth] had just taken care of an ambush right before I got here.
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her lip curls a little at his own words, because: ] Ugh, seriously? I do not miss that. Lately - I mean, back-in-Boston lately, they don't even really dare jump people. There's this flu thing going around, and it's pretty much balls for regular people but for vampires? Modern-day bloodsucker Black Plague.
[ sally's head tilts a little, her voice falling into a note just slightly more resigned as her words come slower. ] Myyyy roommate has it, actually. [ the roommate who happens to be a vampire himself. she... didn't exactly mention that part yet, whoops. ] So he's pretty much toast, which blows.
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Josh doesn't look like a vampire.
[The ones he knew of were pretty obvious, not that he's seen them for more than a day, but it doesn't take long to make an impression.]
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No, nope, Josh is absolutely not a vampire. And I'm totally not laughing at you, by the way - I just pictured that for a second and it was kind of priceless.
[ introducing josh, the world's most neurotic bloodsucker. watch him slaughter an innocent, then have a meltdown over what he's done as he scrubs every available surface with bleach! ]
Nah though, there were actually three of us. Four, counting Nora. It was me, Josh and Nora, then Aidan. He was broody and really shitty at not killing people and pretty much the entire reason vampire drama was even our problem, but he was totally worth it.
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[Richie turns over the words regarding the one person he hadn't met in his head. He doesn't trust vampires, but this particular one isn't here and not part of the equation. What is relevant to their situation is something else that she'd mentioned.]
So you'd stay friends with someone knowing they were a murderer?
[That mutual kill a few months ago didn't count.]
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and while there are two reasons someone could ask her that question, 'ready to judge her for her choice in friends' doesn't seem entirely likely after he carved out somebody's eyeballs in their shared subconscious, so there's a sort of subtle 'don't even worry' in her tone when she says: ] Of course. [ after a pause, she reaches into the cereal box for another useless handful and continues. ] Pretty much everyone I know has blood on their hands somehow. Even Josh, like - this body? [ a two-handed gesture to herself, though one's still wrapped around the aforementioned handful of cereal. ] Ingredient number one was the heart of a dude he'd killed. Which - I mean, I wasn't there, but apparently this was like a year after it happened, so Ray was like, all disgusting and decompose-y by then but that's so not the point.
[ she pops a few pieces of cereal in her mouth, then chews and swallows. ] Besides, I'd be kiiiind of a hypocrite if I judged people for something like that. I mean, less blood and more ectoplasm, but potayto potahto. [ it sounds like she means to end it there, but almost before she even finishes, she's remembering one specific instance in which ectoplasm had nothing to do with it. there are a few moments in which she pops a few more pieces of cereal into her mouth one by one, but then she opts to go out on a limb and tell him, god knows why. ] Well I mean - there was this one time. [ casual as all hell, in part because she doesn't feel nearly as bad about this as any normal person probably should. ]
Right after Danny tried to have me exorcised. I guess it... screwed me up or something, Josh told me I looked like the Grudge. But I figured out how to fix it. [ all verbal cues suggest 'how to fix it' isn't as wholesome as it might imply, but she doesn't leave him wondering long. her eyes lift to his now, to gauge his reaction as she delivers the punchline: ] I slit his throat with his own straight-razor.
[ bam. ]
I mean, it's not actually as badass as it sounds. He totally survived - SCH didn't even keep him overnight, just sent him home with a bandage. [ but still. ]
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Richie sits up straighter, curling his fingers tightly around the spoon in his hand. Sally's words become echoes around him, muffled vibrations that encourage his own fingernail digging into the heel of his hand.
It's her words again that pull him back to the kitchen, the sharpness of her dictated actions cutting through the fog. At the word razor he closes his eyes and breathes in, forming his own reality as a blend of the present and Sally's past. When he opens his eyes he looks at her, loosening his hold on the spoon.]
Did you want him to survive?
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instead, her follow-up comes in the form of: ] I didn't have that kind of control.
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What was it like for you, to make that first cut?
[He's not asking what it's like to slit someone's throat. He knows that perfectly well. It's about Sally's mind, and its process of spilling another being's blood.]
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that kind of shit, it's different as a ghost. everything is, really. even the tactile shit becomes some kind of metaphor when you've got no sense of feeling. which is why she's super not cut out for the whole ghost thing - because as a general rule, sally's so much better at tactile shit than metaphors anyway.
finally, she says: ]
I almost felt alive.
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