"Ghosts & spirits -- different things."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 16:51 Pacific Time on Mon Dec 22 2003.

Currently the moon is in the waning No Moon phase (6% full).

Location: Cockroach Mansion

Lounging around in one of the chairs is Jeremy, laptop across his knees and
typing away. He forwarded everything he found out to Salem this morning
by email, and is now busying himself by searching out local urban legends
and rumors concerning the estate.

From the front hall, The front gate buzzer buzzes. As it is wont to do.

Salem has emerged from the day-long seclusion that is his office and has
reached the parlor door when the gate's buzzed. Frowning in a vaguely
irritable way, he heads into the front to check the monitors, and then
lets Cutter in.

He's playing Doorman again, just like at the old safehouse. How does this
_happen_?

From the front hall, Cutter slips through the front door and nods to Salem.
"Hey. Busy?"

Salem lifts his eyebrows at the Shadow Lord, then shakes his head slightly.

Cutter says "I just wanted to stop by and make sure Rina was okay. She was over
at my place one night a couple of days back. I guess the cub was making
too much noise for her to sleep."

In the parlor, Jeremy continues to type away, lifting his gaze up slightly to
peer into the other room.

Salem's mouth thins. He shrugs curtly, then makes an inviting gesture toward
the parlor, where the chairs are comfortable and the television screen is
nice and wide.

Cutter's brow wrinkles, but he dips his head again and says "Thanks."

Salem glances back as Cutter follows him in. Being unwilling to talk puts
rather a crimp on being a good and decent host.

Snaik pages: There's a young girl sat in your seat. Maybe....10 years old at
most. Blonde hair. No eyes. Just empty eye sockets.

Jeremy tilts his head a bit and offers a wave to Cutter as he pauses in his
typing. "Hey there. Do you need anything to drink?"

Cutter studies Jeremy briefly. "Sure, thanks. Damn, a collar. I used to wear
one of those, but I got one with studs."

Jeremy pushes himself upwards and smirks slightly towards the Shadow Lord,
clicking his tongue ring against his teeth for a moment, before heading
out towards the kitchen.

Returning, Jeremy holds out a Bacardi Silver and then flops back down into the
chair, taking up the laptop again. "It doesn't hurt." He says, clicking
it against his teeth again.

Salem stops on the way to his chair, his mouth twisting into an irritated
grimace. His hands close into fists, and after that hesitation, he
_stalks_ over to the chair and waves one hand through the air just over
the seat.

Cutter shakes his head. "No, it's just that--the whole healing thing. It'd have
to be done in silver. And *that* would hurt like fuck. I didn't think
about getting tattos until it was too late either."

Cutter frowns and looks at Salem.

Snaik pages: She doesn't vanish.
You paged Snaik with 'Does she do anything? Or just sit there?'.

Jeremy tilts his head over to Salem, then looks back to Cutter. "Yeh' need
anything else?" He asks polietly enough as he taps a few more keys on the
computer.

Snaik pages: She recoils a bit, as if you'd just slapped her, and you could
swear you got a chilly feeling from where your hand went through her. She
looks as if she might be crying, if she had any eyes to cry with.

The tap-tap of Lianne's cane announces the kinswoman's presence, before she
actually enters the parlor. "Evening," she curtiously greets those
already gathered in the room.

Cutter shakes his head absently at Jeremy. "No, I'm good." He fishes in his
pocket with a free hand and pulls out a 3"x5" notebook with a ballpoint
hooked on the spiral.

Salem blinks, pulling back slightly; for a second the Philodox seems bemused.
Then irritated. He absently shakes the hand that'd gone through the space
above the chair seat and turns away to give Lianne a curt nod of greeting.

Snaik pages: She's gone when you look back.

As the kin's fingers fly across the keyboard, he suddenly stops and lets out a
yelp, stumbling backwards quickly and nearly falling out of his chair.
Clutching the computer to his lap, he starts backpeddling on his ass,
scooting quickly as his feet shuffle on the ground. ".. holyfuckingshit."

Cutter drops the notebook in surprise and takes a few steps away from the
scuttling kin. "Damned pop up ads," he murmurs, "I hate 'em too."

Lianne's lips thin and her eyes narrow, as Jeremy scrambles backwards. "You're
an excitable fellow, aren't you?"

Jeremy jerks a hand forward and points at his chair, biting on his lip hard.
".... you don't see her?"

Salem tenses, his eyes narrowed. He looks from Jeremy's chair to his own, then
bares his teeth in an even _more_ irritated kind of way and slouches down
into his chair. Apparantly, it's acceptable for sitting in now.

Cutter glances at Lianne and frowns. "Yeah, I see her."

Joshua's bare feet can be heard, flesh against the hardwood, as he walks down
the stairs. He hadn't been downstairs the entire day, much less out of
the room he was staying in, and from the looks of it, he didn't spend the
day sleeping. Dark bags sit under either eye, and the words "Strike Two"
are still on his arm. Cautiously, he pokes his head around the corner,
looking to see if Cat was in there.

Jeremy lets out a slow breath and stares at his chair, putting his laptop off
to the side. Gritting his teeth, he murmurs towards the girl. "Bonjour'?
Kumusta? Hola'? Konichiwa?" He pauses for a moment, then tries. "..
Hello? Can you hear or understand me?"

Lianne shakes her head. "No. I don't see anything. What are you two talking
about?"

Joshua starts to duck back behind the corner, when he spys Jeremy: someone who
could help him get his laptop back. Reluctantly, he steps into the
Parlor, eyeing the strangers.

Cutter glances at Lianne again. "I thought he meant you."

Salem, seated in his armchair like a bad-tempered king, watches the barefoot
cub slink in.

"English?" Jermey asks again, softly as he pushes himself upwards to his feet,
chains jingling about his person as his trench coat settles back into
place. Goth's. They see dead people. "... Were you murdered here in this
house?" He ignores the others in the room, eyes concentrated as he stares
at his chair.

Lianne's eyebrows lift. "I doubt I'm quite that frightening." Her eyes fix on
Jeremy. "Dear boy, have you taken leave of your senses?"

Joshua stares at Jeremy, his brow furrowing, as everyone else stands around
gawking at Jer.

Salem shifts his gaze from Jeremy to Lianne and shakes his head at her a little.

Cutter kneels down slowly to pick up his notebook, still watching Jeremy.

Jeremy glances down to the laptop, then picks it up slowly. He turns it around
to face the child, keyboard out, screen glowing brightly. Wettening his
lips some, he furrows his brows, curiously waiting.

Joshua's brow starts to work it's way up, before two and two finally add
themselves up in his mind. He frowns for a second he ask "Mister
Jeremy... is... is there another one in the room?"

"No.. no longer in the room. In my computer." Jeremy says as the laptop seems
to come to life, the hard drive spinning as if it was accessing
information. He slowly turns it towards him, squinting his blue eyes at
the screen.

"Ghost in the machine?" Lianne states more then asks, tone dry. Lightly shaking
her head, the kinswoman turns away from Jeremy and attempts to locate a
seat.

Joshua frowns slightly once more, slowly pacing his way over to Jeremy, a
confused look on his face. "'n your computer?" The geekcub echoes,
craning his neck as so to see the screen, totally ignoring the two
stranger adults.

*CHUNT CHUNT CHUNT CHUNT WHURRRRR* The laptop is being excessively noisy, the
disk swapping at a frantic rate. Nothing seems to change on the screen to
begin with, and then as the noise subsides, hundreds of webpages are
opened and closed and skimmed through, as if someone were doing a
websearch at very high speed.

"..... Woah..." Jeremy says, staring at the screen, bug eye'd. "Guys, you gotta
see this shit."

Salem's eyes narrow. Slowly, he gets up and prowls over to stand behind Jeremy,
looming over the gothkin as he peers over his shoulder at the screen. An
eyebrow lifts.

Cutter frowns and circles around to have a look behind Salem.

Joshua leans in, looking intently at the screen. He hesitantly mumbles. "Yer
sure no one put some remote client junk on your 'book? Could be someone
just messing with you..."

Lianne slowly sinks down into one of the arm chairs and releases a breath, as
she leans her cane against the chair's arm. Grimicing, the kinswoman rubs
at one of her legs.

Shaking his head, Jeremy stares at the screen. "No.. it was a dead girl. She
touched me and it was cold... her eyes were burned out of her head.. she
looked maybe.. ten.. eleven years old."

Joshua chokes down some bile, as he watches the screen with the intensity of a
hawk. "Her eyes where burnt out of her head...?" He softly echoes. He
blinks for a second, before asking loudly. "Was it the angry man with the
Axe?"

Lianne frowns faintly and continues to rub at a spot just above her left knee,
as if it pains her.

The chunting and whuirring and page-accessing stops, and the laptop reboots
after deftly having it's internet cache flushed. Apparently, the ghost
knows a thing or two about computers. Then, it's just a laptop again.

Joshua's face goes back to the puzzled look: Either the Ghost didn't know or
didn't care. All in all, the Geekcub manages to remain composed, a lack
of dead bodies probably contributing.

Jeremy blinks at the screen once again as it reboots itself. He pops open
Safari again and looks at the history, hoping that its still intact.

Salem straightens up, his jaw tight. He stalks back toward his chair, moving a
bit too close to Joshua as he passes the cub.

Jeremy walks back to his chair and sits down, typing away at the computer. He
has a few ideas on his own. Rubbing the back of his neck, he murmurs.
"She was accessing family trees."

Joshua crings away from Salem as he passes, watching the crazy mute for a
second, before turning back to watching Jeremy's computer, watching the
screen really close.

Lianne slowly shakes her head. "I would be extreemly greatful, if someone would
please be kind enough to explain what is happening?"

Joshua looks back to the stranger, giving her a 'don'y you know?' look. "She
entered Mister Jeremy's computer 'n looked at some sites on family
history." He replies, as if that should explain everything.

Jeremy tilts his head. "There are ghosts in the mansion, Lianne. A few of them
it seems." He continues to type away, pulling up websites, eyes squinting
at various photos. "There has been dead bodies walking around and they
come and go.. its just kinda creepy. Like sixth sense."

Cutter says "Has anybody scouted the house umbra?"

Salem pauses as he reaches his armchair, looking pensive for a moment. Then he
slips out of the room, without explanation.

Joshua looks back to the Laptop, looking at the Photo's as well, bending over
so he could see better. Quietly, he very quietly murmurs to Jeremy.
"Mm... Mister Jeremy? Who's Umbra?"

Cutter says "Sounds like a 'no'."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Later...]

Things have quieted down by the time Salem returns from the back of the house.
The tread of his boots are heavy upon the floorboards, going quiet only
when he crosses carpet.

Joshua stands in the Kitchen, at the Fridge, scuffling through in search of
Mayo. On the counter there is the beginnings of a sandwich: dinner, as he
feels he can finally stomach food.

The bootsteps get closer until their owner appears in the kitchen doorway --
the crazy mute himself, all six-foot-plus of him, white t-shirt, black
jeans, black boots. Salem regards Joshua flatly.

Joshua's head jerks up at the sound of the boots, banging his head on the
fridge. "Darn it!" He curses mildly, pulling out of the fridge with Mayo
in hand; looking over to the psychopath. It's a moment before he recalls
the man's name, murmuring, "Oh, hi Mister Salem."

Salem smiles in a thin, humorless-looking way and makes a 'go ahead' gesture,
waving Joshua toward the proto-sandwich.

Joshua hesitates a moment, before resuming the construction of the sandwich.
Turkey, but the looks of it. As Josh puts a layer Mayo on the bread, he
hesitates a moment, before looking back at Salem. Nervously, he ask,
"Um... Mister Salem? Who's Umbra? One of the guests tried to explain it,
but she didn't make much sense..."

Salem snorts, not looking much surprised. He beckons Joshua over and takes a
seat at the kitchen table. Out comes an ordinary pad of paper and pen --
no high-tech little digital assistants today -- and writes down a few
words. "Spirit realm, separated by barrier called the Gauntlet."

Joshua quickly puts the finishing touches on the Sandwich, and takes it with
him to the Table, carefully sitting down just under halfway from Salem.
His eyes flits over the note, as he carefully takes a bite, chewing. A
moment later, he swallows. Apparently, curiosity is enough to overcome
caution, "But don't ghosts 'n all of them live here? How else could we
see them 'n all?"

Salem shakes his head and writes some more, filling the small page with his
precise, angular printing. "Ghosts & spirits -- different things."
Underneath, "Ghosts = echoes of dead. Spirits = part of living Tellurian."

"Uh... what's Tellurian?" Josh asks, having barely gotten to the end of the
note. He takes another bite, and chews while waiting for Salem to finish
writing.

Salem lets Joshua finish reading, then flips to the next page. "Reality," he
writes. "Earth, Sun, Moon, Stars, Space. Wyrm, Weaver, Wyld."

Joshua reads over the note about three time, still working on the turkey, his
face twisted in a puzzled look. Sliding the notepad back across, he
fingers the last three words. "What 'er those? Never heard of them."

Salem's mouth twists, though for once he looks something other than simply
pissy. His expression is merely rueful. He turns to a fresh page and
draws a more-or-less equilateral triangle. At the top corner he draws
what appears to be a random squiggle, all one line and writes, "Wyld --
chaos, creation," next to it. The second corner gets a weave of
criss-crossed lines and the label, "Weaver -- pattern, form." At the
third he draws a spiral and labels it, "Wyrm -- decay, corruption." In
the space in the middle of the triangle goes the word "Triat".

Joshua sets aside the dinner as he plants his elbows on the table and sets his
head in his head, looking at the drawing with an intent stare. Frowning,
he finally lifts his head, shaking slightly. "I don't think I understand.
I mean, I think I do, but what to 'ese things have to do with the Sun n'
the Moon 'n all that?" He asks, not sure if he could even get a proper
explanation from the mute.

Salem's lips thin, pressing together. After a moment he writes, "Everything in
this world has echo in Umbra & vice versa." He pauses, then scribbles,
"almost" down over and a little to the left of "everything," sticking a
little proofreading-insert symbol there. Underneath, "Better to show you,
but it's too dangerous right now."

Joshua finishes off the sandwich, swallowing the last bit down, as Salem
finishes the note. Then, he quickly reads over it, trying to make heads
or tails of it. Looking at Salem, Josh's brow quirks. "Show me what?"

Salem, in answer, circles the word "Umbra."

Joshua chews on the corner of his mouth, trying not to let the furstration
show. His face looks just as confused as when he started. Pushing out of
the seat, he nods. "Thanks, Mister Salem."

Salem's shoulders lift and fall in a mild shrug; he seems to share Joshua's
frustration somewhat. Nodding, he rises, closing the notepad and
re-pocketing it. Before leaving the kitchen to resume his nocturnal
prowlings of the big old house, he gives the cub another thin smile. Then
he's gone.