[ 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.
[Though he speaks slowly, it's with no hesitation.]
It won't be permanent, but that moment when a person gives their last breath against your hands... [He inhales, finding words a poor substitute for experience.] You didn't deserve what he gave you, and he doesn't deserve to live.
[ sally lets out a dry exhale, her gaze finally dropping now to the table in front of her. it's not even that she thinks he's wrong - because he isn't. in fact, she's mildly unnerved by how totally on-board she is, with his whole murder-train philosophy here.
but: ] Tough break. Somebody already did that for me. [ ...well, not literally for sally, but still. ] Me and Aidan, we - I guess scared the piss out of him. Like, he could see me, and back in Boston that's pretty much never a thing. Nobody can actually see ghosts, that's just how it is.
Anyway, he totally confessed. Got locked up for life, and I guess he wouldn't bend over or something, because he got his ass freaking stabbed after like a year and a half.
[ a beat, then: ] Shredded his ghost, though. Now that felt great.
[Richie doesn't want to hear about prison. It hits too close to home and everything he'd imagined during five years of worry and uncertainty for his brother. He'd snapped, those who knew him would say hasn't been the same since.
Instead he steers the conversation back to the topic at hand. She's talked about shredding, and from context he knows what it means, but it's difficult for him to imagine without further information.]
[ it always jars sally a little, when they trip over something she hasn't yet told him. for all intents and purposes, she tends to assume he knows basically everything about her these days, though technically that's far from true.
so she'll have to start from the beginning. ]
When you shred a ghost, it's... not like stabbing someone. You're literally - [ she reaches two 'claw'-fingered hands toward her own gut, then pulls them apart as if parting her innards down the middle. ] - tearing them apart.
[ important distinction, because she's pretty sure tearing someone apart in their entirety is a whole different matter than stabbing or shooting.
after another second or so, she continues: ]
The set-up's kind of a long story, so just... assume that somehow, his neon-orange jumpsuited ass showed up in our house for pretty much no good reason. And like, I knew shit was gonna go down and Aidan said he'd come home to make sure he was there to back me up, but shit went down and I guess he forgot or something.
[ not the point. ]
So Danny shows up, and we shit-talked a little bit. I had a fire poker or something, iron dissipates ghosts, but he said he was more powerful than me. Freaking - took the poker right out of my hand, attacked me.
And I don't think, I just - I shove my hand straight through his gut, and it's not like touching a living person, I can actually feel it. Feel the energy, and it's all around my hand, like... Like this is all that's left of the person who spent like two years making me feel like shit, this essence, and I've got it right in my hand.
[ she's kind of bad at describing this shit, she thinks. her eyes lift back up to his, almost like a question. like 'keep going?' ]
[Richie becomes thoroughly engrossed in her story, and as Sally speaks about reaching inside Danny, he finds himself reaching forward as well. His hand covers hers, and Richie closes his eyes, as if hoping to catch some of the essence mentioned. It's a different kind of death, a surge of energy before all that's left of a person is a memory.
He opens his eyes, looking to Sally intently. He doesn't want to speak, doesn't want to stop his immersion in Sally's words. When they lock eyes and all other sound around them seems to fade away, Richie gives her a single nod.
[ he nods, so she nods back in acknowledgement. but she doesn't keep going quite yet. instead, the hand he's not covering with his reaches down to lift his bowl from between them and set it behind her instead - slow, quiet movements, because she doesn't want to pop whatever bubble they're sitting in. then she slides forward, just enough that he doesn't have to lean to reach her, all without breaking the eye contact. ]
I hesitated, [ she says now, a little quieter by reflex, because all of this? it's between she and richie. not like anyone else is around to hear, but that's not the point. ] Because after everything, after all the shit he pulled, I didn't just... want to end him. I wanted him to feel it. I wanted to terrify him, to make him feel like he was drowning and- [ - don't say burning - ] ...I wanted to tear him apart for two years instead of ten seconds. But that's not how this shit works.
[ her hand shifts just enough to make sure his is aligned on top of it, so that when she spreads her fingers, his spread too. which she does, her other hand back to join it now in the claw gestures from before. ] It's not even hard. Getting in's the hardest part. Once there's a hole, once you've got your hand right smack in their core... It's like tearing fabric. You just - [ her hands separate now to illustrate: ] -pull them apart. Into mist, and then they're just... gone.
[ it doesn't seem as climactic as he was probably looking for. sally chews at her bottom lip a second, then: ] I wish I could say it was satisfying.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[action]
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.
[action]
[Though he speaks slowly, it's with no hesitation.]
It won't be permanent, but that moment when a person gives their last breath against your hands... [He inhales, finding words a poor substitute for experience.] You didn't deserve what he gave you, and he doesn't deserve to live.
[action]
but: ] Tough break. Somebody already did that for me. [ ...well, not literally for sally, but still. ] Me and Aidan, we - I guess scared the piss out of him. Like, he could see me, and back in Boston that's pretty much never a thing. Nobody can actually see ghosts, that's just how it is.
Anyway, he totally confessed. Got locked up for life, and I guess he wouldn't bend over or something, because he got his ass freaking stabbed after like a year and a half.
[ a beat, then: ] Shredded his ghost, though. Now that felt great.
[action]
Instead he steers the conversation back to the topic at hand. She's talked about shredding, and from context he knows what it means, but it's difficult for him to imagine without further information.]
Tell me what you did, every detail you can.
[Including how how great it felt.]
[action]
so she'll have to start from the beginning. ]
When you shred a ghost, it's... not like stabbing someone. You're literally - [ she reaches two 'claw'-fingered hands toward her own gut, then pulls them apart as if parting her innards down the middle. ] - tearing them apart.
[ important distinction, because she's pretty sure tearing someone apart in their entirety is a whole different matter than stabbing or shooting.
after another second or so, she continues: ]
The set-up's kind of a long story, so just... assume that somehow, his neon-orange jumpsuited ass showed up in our house for pretty much no good reason. And like, I knew shit was gonna go down and Aidan said he'd come home to make sure he was there to back me up, but shit went down and I guess he forgot or something.
[ not the point. ]
So Danny shows up, and we shit-talked a little bit. I had a fire poker or something, iron dissipates ghosts, but he said he was more powerful than me. Freaking - took the poker right out of my hand, attacked me.
And I don't think, I just - I shove my hand straight through his gut, and it's not like touching a living person, I can actually feel it. Feel the energy, and it's all around my hand, like... Like this is all that's left of the person who spent like two years making me feel like shit, this essence, and I've got it right in my hand.
[ she's kind of bad at describing this shit, she thinks. her eyes lift back up to his, almost like a question. like 'keep going?' ]
[action]
He opens his eyes, looking to Sally intently. He doesn't want to speak, doesn't want to stop his immersion in Sally's words. When they lock eyes and all other sound around them seems to fade away, Richie gives her a single nod.
Keep going.]
[action]
I hesitated, [ she says now, a little quieter by reflex, because all of this? it's between she and richie. not like anyone else is around to hear, but that's not the point. ] Because after everything, after all the shit he pulled, I didn't just... want to end him. I wanted him to feel it. I wanted to terrify him, to make him feel like he was drowning and- [ - don't say burning - ] ...I wanted to tear him apart for two years instead of ten seconds. But that's not how this shit works.
[ her hand shifts just enough to make sure his is aligned on top of it, so that when she spreads her fingers, his spread too. which she does, her other hand back to join it now in the claw gestures from before. ] It's not even hard. Getting in's the hardest part. Once there's a hole, once you've got your hand right smack in their core... It's like tearing fabric. You just - [ her hands separate now to illustrate: ] -pull them apart. Into mist, and then they're just... gone.
[ it doesn't seem as climactic as he was probably looking for. sally chews at her bottom lip a second, then: ] I wish I could say it was satisfying.