ic Fine Spirits [IC]

[trollthumper]

Friday, October 28th

5:39 PM

It was another quiet day at the Black Petal Cafe, and Eric LaCroix was pretty happy about that. It had actually been a rather quiet month - ever since the incident at the Parkhurst, it had been a good month of simple dealings with the restless dead and the occasional exorcism for flavor. Every so often there'd been an attempt at a robbery, or maybe the occasional cackling supervillain, but things had been pretty sedate on the heroing front. It was good to have some time to think on things and not have to deal with a major crisis. Of course, the Halloween weekend was starting up, and who knew what would come with that, but for now, it was time meant to savor.

He was in the middle of preparing a double-shot caramel latte when something pinged the distance edge of his senses. Someone dead was in the coffee shop. He scanned the crowd - no one looked like parts of them were falling off, or even had the pallor of the recently deceased. There weren't any obvious ghosts, and a poltergeist likely would've made more noise by now. He filed it away in the back of his head, waiting for the time to go on dish-clearing duty to see if he could scope out the specter.

He handed the latte off to the customer and took the register once more. "Welcome to the Black Petal," he said. "How may I help you today?"

[Gizmo]

"Gosh, thanks!" the enthusiastic teenager next in line gushed cheerily, rocking up and down absently on her heels. The girl's dark brown hair bounced off of the shoulder blades of a bright blue jacket which was a little light considering the chilly weather, while her bright green eyes scanned the board behind Eric's head. "Jams, there's like a bazillion choices... Um, could I get... one of those pumpkin... coffee things the sign out front was talking about? That sounds seasonal!" Perhaps misinterpreting the reaction her outgoing demeanor was garnering, she confessed to the barista in a lower voice, "I'm used to there being one type of coffee and lots of different donuts, y'know, but I heard this was the sort of place lots of people came out to and wow, so true, right?"

[trollthumper]

"Pumpkin latte," Eric said. He pegged the girl as the ghost right away. She was good at crafting a glamour that would make her pass as normal to anyone else, but to him, it looked a bit like makeup floating independently of skin. Still, the last thing he wanted to do was call attention to the girl. So, he did what he'd do with any other customer - he acted professional. "I can set you up with one of those, and a pastry, if you want. Sorry to say we don't have any donuts, but we've got some good chocolate chip scones and apple turnovers. I can get the latte started while you look over the pastries. Can I get a name for the drink?"

[Gizmo]

"Oh, no, just the coffee, thanks," the disguised phantom insisted with a wave of her hands and a sheepish smile. "I'm sorta on a diet these days, aheh." She sounded a little wistful about that, and glanced reflexively over at the the row of pastries Eric was indicating but her bubbly demeanor wasn't affected for more than a moment. Turning back to blink a few times at his question, realization slowly dawned. "A name...? Oh! My name, so you can call me when it's ready! That's really smart!" she praised in a genuinely impressed tone while beaming. "It's Kimber!"

[trollthumper]

"Thanks, Kimber," said Eric. "I'll call you when the latte's up." He got to work fixing the latte. While he could have handed it off to Chelsea or one of the other baristas, he wanted to make sure the cup never left his hands while he fixed it. Partially because that way, it'd be clear who it came from - and partially because he didn't want anyone else to see what he was doing. When the drink was all assembled, he slipped a cardboard sleeve on the cup and wrote "Kimber" on the side - then, right under it, he wrote in small text:

"I know what you are. I can see these things. Need any help?"

After palming the cup so that the print was hidden, he handed the cup off to Kimber. "Here you go. Let me know how you like it."

[Gizmo]

"Great, thanks so much!" Kimber reached out and took the cup from Eric, her beaming smile managing to grow a notch brighter even as her body language made it look like she was concentrating very hard on the simple act of retrieving the beverage. Stepping away from the counter, she looked about for a seat, then paused as she glanced down and noticed the scribbled message. Letting out a startled, "Yeep!" the brunette brought both hands to her mouth in reflexive surprise... while the coffee cup remained suspended in the air exactly where she's left it. "Oh, marmalade," she yelped in dismay, shoving her hands forward again only to have them overshoot and pass right through the paper cup and steaming liquid as though it wasn't there - or, more accurately, like her hands weren't really there. Finally her concentration failed and the coffee crashed to the floor, spilling everywhere while the mortified teen sprinted for the door.

[trollthumper]

Eric watched as Kimber reacted to the message, and as the coffee cup hung in midair. When she fled the shop and the cup's contents splattered across the floor, Eric was there with a mop, quickly cleaning up the mess.

Great one, Eric, he thought. There was a reason she was trying to pass. You've been dealing with folks stuck on the other side for too long. God knows where she is now...

Once the mess was all cleaned up, Eric told his manager he was taking his twenty and raced out to the street. He scanned the sidewalk, trying to pick up some trace of the ghost girl.

[Gizmo]

The audible sniff of someone trying very hard not to cry came from Eric's left, in the direction of the row of newspaper boxes nearby the coffee shop, followed by a morose, disembodied voice saying, "...hi. Sorry about the mess." While completely invisible to the rest of the evening's passersby, the necromancer's extra senses were easily able to see Kimber sitting atop one of the metal boxes, elbows resting on her knees and chin resting in her hands as she looked thoroughly dejected. Now cast in a range of pale blue, translucent shades with her hair rising and falling as if in a strong wind, the phantom sniffed again before looking up to meet Eric's eyes. "I kinda freaked out a little."

[trollthumper]

"It's okay," Eric said softly. He was trying not to draw attention to the fact that he was talking to empty air; despite having the sight for years, communicating with the dead in crowded places during the day time without looking schizophrenic was always tricky. "I probably should've been more subtle.. but I thought just writing the words on the cup would be less noticeable than crafting them out of ectoplasm." He extended his hand. "My name's Eric... but you can probably see that from the name badge. If you don't mind me asking, how long have you, uh... been in this condition?"

[Gizmo]

Kimber did a poor job of stifling a light laugh at that, though it probably would have been easier if her throat and tearducts had been real and not just reflexive affectations. "Hee, you can just say 'dead', really! It's nice that you're trying to be all polite, but it's okay," she assured him, wiping the back of her sleeve across her eyes and making a visible effort to cheer up. "Oh, and, um, nice to meet you, Eric! Well, it was nice, then it was all 'ahh spilling coffee everywhere' but now it's back to being nice, so." The ghost waved her hands back and forth, miming her own panic. "Near as anybody's been able to figure, I died about fifteen years ago, but I spent most of the time since being sorta, y'know, crazy. I'm loads better these days!"

[trollthumper]

"I wouldn't call it 'crazy,'" Eric said. He obviously hadn't been there for the circumstances of Kimber's early days of undeath, so he couldn't pass authoritative judgment on this one. But he had a pretty good idea where she was coming from. "It's common for a lot of ghosts not to realize they're dead right away. Some of them get caught in feedback loops that create the illusion they're alive. Some of them just go back to their normal lives and interpret the fact that others can't see them or hear them as a sign of 'distance.' It's more common than you think, and it doesn't mean you were crazy." He smiled. "And I'd be happy to do a replacement latte. But before I do, I've got something to ask. You don't have any unfinished business, do you? You're hanging around on this mortal coil out of your own free will?"

[Gizmo]

Making a sound between a snort and a stifled laugh, Kimber shook her head. "Hah, well, that's really nice of you to say, but I spent a decade and a half scaring random teenager away from a log cabin in the woods by smashing dishware and moaning on and on about being 'so, so cold'," she explained with a vaguely embarrassed shrug. The phantom got the feeling that such poltergeist antics were a little on the passe side. Abruptly realizing that she'd failed to provide the proper context, she straightened, exclaiming, "Oh! I froze to death, in the woods. So you can see how that sorta makes sense, anyway."

Floating off of the newspaper dispenser and looking around quickly to make sure nobody was glancing their way, the undead girl concentrated for a moment before quickly taking on a solid, living appearance once again. "Speaking of crazy, at least nobody'll think you're talking to yourself!" Tugging briefly on her jacket, she did a quick inventory to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, then gave Eric a quizzical look. "Unfinished business? I've got a paper due in class next week that I should really be working on instead of going out, but that's not really what you mean, eh?"

[trollthumper]

"Thanks," Eric said. It was good to know that he wouldn't be mistaken for an unmedicated schizophrenic. The number of times that had happened... "But I'm pretty sure papers don't count -- wait, a paper? You're in school? Let me guess. Claremont." He took a second to reroute his train of thought. "But, yeah. By 'unfinished business,' I mean affairs left over from your life. Things you wanted to tell friends or family, things you wanted to do before you died... given your cause of death, I don't think 'vengeance on a killer' counts. A good number of ghosts are fettered to this plane because they've still got things that need doing. Once they're completed, they can pass on. Keyword being 'can'; I know a number of ghosts who've decided to stick around and see what comes next."

[Gizmo]

"Yea-oh, wait. I don't think you're supposed to know about that..." Kimber realized mid-sentence, pulling a worried face and hoping she hadn't inadvertently blow the Academy's cover as an exclusive prep school. "Ah heh, er, anyway. Um, I don't think I've got anything like that!" she assured the necromancer with an emphatic shrug that lifter both sides of her jacket. "I guess I probably wouldn't really know; I can't remember much at all from when I was alive. You probably have to remember stuff for it to count as 'unfinished business', though, huh? Seems like that'd have to be a rule." The phantom stuck her hands back into her jacket pockets and rocked back and forth on her heels. "Dan did say I was sort of a freaky case. Sorry if I'm being confusing!"

[trollthumper]

"It's okay," Eric said. "I know what Claremont is. I know some of the alumni. Hell, I've been invited to teach on more than one occasion." He looked side to side, as if to see if anyone - alive or otherwise - was listening, then continued. "I'm in the, ah... sort of business that Claremont specializes in myself. The coffee thing is how I pay my bills.

"As for the business... well, sometimes it's more of a metaphysical tie than a memory-based one. Could be that the death trauma - or the, uh... eccentricity - might have helped to blank out memories of your life. I could try and help you recover them, if you want - but it's your choice. You seem to be forging a second life - well, unlife. It's your choice if you want to dig up the old one."

[Gizmo]

"You mean you're a sup-erk!" The effervescent apparition hopped excitedly into the air, hanging there a split second longer than she really should have as she quickly slapped a hand over her own mouth before she could exclaim anything confidential. "Sorry, sorry!" she whispered quickly, looking sufficiently abashed. "It's still just exciting to keep meeting so many really cool people! I get all, 'Eeeee!' You know?" Kimber shook her fists back and forth, raised just over the height of her shoulders, miming barely contained enthusiasm. "Anyway, you should totally come teach a class or something! A lot of the other students think supernatural stuff is all whatever, and I'm like, 'hello, dead girl, right here,' but they're all, 'psh, drama queen,' which is so... pbbth." Making a loud raspberry sound, she lowered her hands to cross her arms over her chest. It likely didn't escape Eric that she was avoiding the question of recovering her living memories, but to be fair her vocalized train of thought was pretty hectic.

[trollthumper]

"Yes, I'm a... one of those," Eric said. "The trade name is Nick Cimitiere. I tend to deal in the spooky -- affairs of the dead are a specialty. But yeah, I've considered volunteering for a class or two at Claremont. Just didn't feel like contacting the headmaster without a few solid references." He shook his head. "But, yeah, how's life at Claremont treating you? You getting back into the flow of academic life? And, uh, how are the... extracurriculars? I remember getting started in the business was tricky. Then again, back then all I could really do is talk to ghosts and ask them to lend a hand on occasion. I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve, but... let's just say there were some tricky times back then."

[Gizmo]

"Ooh, spooky," Kimber observed approvingly at Eric's codename. "I go by Ghost Girl! I have a mask and a logo and everything, it's very exciting!" The perky phantom has beginning to give the impression that pretty much everything struck her as exciting. "And I don't have a 'life' at Claremont. I know what you meant, but that's just very vita-centric language." She placed both hands on her hips and managed to maintain a straight face for all of two seconds before breaking into a fit of giggles. "Kidding, kidding! Hee... But really, it's been rad! My roommate's super cool and I get to be on the best school team and there's loads of field trips!"

[trollthumper]

"Good to hear," Eric said. "And hey, sorry about the vita-centric language. Though I think I've got dead privilege. I was dead once, too. For, uh, three minutes. And somehow this all sounded funnier in my head, and I may have actually said something offensive." He cleared his throat. "So, anyway. How are you liking Freedom City in general? It's not a bad city for the dead - Lantern Hill Cemetery's got a good little necropolis going, and most of the major churches are safe for restless spirits. But there are people you need to watch out for. Baron Samedi, for one. Guy's a real bastard. Malador's business doesn't take him by FC often, but he should be given a wide berth. Hades doesn't come by often - mainly due to the Pact - but his agents do. You see a guy in Greek armor with a major dog motif, stay clear."

[Gizmo]

"Three minutes? Pbbth, tourist," Kimber scoffed amidst continuing laughter. The undead teen certainly didn't seem particularly offended by any inadvertent choice of words; if anything she seemed more like to simply assume positive intent and forgive and forget any transgressions. It was difficult to imagine any lingering vendettas that might be tying her to the mortal plane. "Wow, it sounds like there's an awful lot of bad guys for ghosts!" she continued, giggles dying away as she frowned with concern. "I'm kinda surprised. But what's a 'necropolis'?"

[trollthumper]

"Necropolis is the technical term for where a lot of the dead gather," Eric said. "Lantern Hill's a small one, compared to others - Arlington's a hell of a place to be for someone in touch with the other side - but it's got a good solid community that keeps watch for binders and harrowers and other people who like to torment the dead. It's a sad fact of life that people who often jump the barrier from perceiving death to dealing in its power like to abuse it. Especially if it means there's someone they can use as a target." He shook his head. "But those guys are fairly rare. Necromancers - the bad kind, at least - tend to keep their distance from Freedom. They know it's protected. Especially Lantern Hill. It's not just ghosts up there - you've got Dead Head patrolling the grounds, and Freedom Angel looking over the chapel. You ever heard of them?"

[Gizmo]

"Sheesh, downer," Kimber noted while pulling a face and ducking her head between her shoulders so that the collar of her jacket ended up on the same height as her nose. The ghost had largely assumed there wasn't much that could threaten her insubstantial existence, but that was looking more and more like naivety. Presented with Eric's list of names she lifted her chin again to shake her head. "Nope. I'm from Thunder Bay, see, so I've only really had time to get caught up with the important, Canadian heroes and some of their bad guys," she admitted. Had she not had the opportunity to explore Freedom Hall during the Gorgon crisis, she wasn't sure she would have even been able to name the League's current membership. "Dead Head and Freedom Angel kinda sound like band names, though."

[trollthumper]

Eric noticed Kimber's expression at the mention of the necromancers. "Like I said, these guys usually stay clear of the town," he said. "You get a few people who are dumb enough to try it, but they usually get beat down fast. Sorry for the panic. But like I said, Lantern Hill's probably one of the safest places in Freedom for a dead person. Dead Head's a... well, I wouldn't call him a zombie. He prefers the term 'revenant.' He's been helping out the restless dead in Freedom longer than I have, and he definitely knows the territory. And Freedom Angel's... he's pretty much what the name says. He's an angel. And he's incredibly decent. Like, it's scary how clean he is."

When he heard "Canada," he was surprised he hadn't picked up Kimber's accent before - but it made a lot of sense, now. "Haven't had much reason to get up to Canada," he said. "What's the hero situation like up there?"

[Gizmo]

"Wooah, a real zombie hero?!" Kimber brought the knuckles of both hands to her chin in a gesture of ill contained excitement at the thought of another undead superhero, evidently not at all off-put by the macabre notion. Freedom Angel on the other hand brought to mind Indira's explanation of the Kinigosi hunter goddess, and the phantom had an unsettling thought wondering how the angelic being would react to a 'lost soul'.

Rather than focus on that, she instead answered Eric's question enthusiastically. "Uh, hello! Only the greatest!" she declared proudly, throwing her arms outward. "The main team is True North, they protect the whole country! Canadian Shield is the leader, but I think Verglass is my favourite, 'cause she's got cold powers kinda like me!" It was obviously from the seriousness of the declaration that it had been a close race and not a decision she'd come to lightly. "Dan - Daniel Storm, I mean - he's the one who found me and fixed my head and kinda adopted me, so he doesn't count, obviously, or he'd win automatically."

[trollthumper]

"Yeah, I was kinda surprised by the zombie bit myself," Nick said. "Then again in my time about, I've met werewolf heroes, fairy heroes, and a whole lot of wizards, magicians, and other general practitioners. Only logical there'd be a zombie hero. He was one of the first heroes I met when I officially set up shop in Freedom. He's got a grim sense of humor - all of us mortwrights do - but he's pretty good. And, well, he's not the only zombie hero I've met, so it's not like I should be so surprised."

He listened to Kimber reel off the heroes of Canada. While his business had never taken him up to the Frozen North - he'd been to Massachusetts once to follow up on the ruined asylum in Danvers, but that was it - it always interested him to hear about the heroes of other countries. "Does Daniel usually deal with cases like yours?"