ic Your Spirit Lives On [IC]

[Gizmo]

"She's lucky I'm using a door," Wail grumbled darkly, pushing through the crowd with enough force to knock the those who weren't quick enough to get out of the way of his broad shoulders back a few paces. When one of the teens began to make an ill-advised attempt to object, the aging metahuman rose up to his full height and and glowered downward. "You do not. Want. To be here." Without waiting for a response he continued toward the back of the house.

[trollthumper]

Nick tried to keep up with Wail, which was a bit like a horse trying to keep up with a freight train. Darius had more luck, but then again, he didn't have any mass and could glide through and over things. It put him a step or two up on Nick. As Wail surged through the house, leaving some destruction in his wake, the members of the DGC were wise to clear away. Even Deacon, who had come downstairs following Alisha, stepped back as Wail charged out the back.

 

Alisha was running across the lawn when they left the house. She turned and tried to spit out some form of hex. The words started out with a sound like a crypt door opening slowly, but lost their potency as the sentence ended. Nick raised his hand and shook his head. "You know," he said, "it might have been slightly better if you'd just kept running." 

 

"I don't have to answer to you," she spat. "Look at you. You don't live here. I did what I had to --"

 

"You did what you wanted to!"

 

The crowd from inside had overcome their hesitation, and were now gathering on the back porch - just in time to see Darius swoop in towards Alisha. She stood still as a statue, frozen from fear. "Tell them. Go on, tell them. You didn't like you heard from me, and you had a choice to make. Keep this whole thing going, or actually do something that was worth it. You knew which why to go before you even summoned me, didn't you? That's why you used me. It'd be better if there was a version of me that could actually look you in the face."

 

Alisha said nothing, but it was clear some part of her was slowly crumbling. Darius's ghost turned back to the house. "Look at you fools. All this talk about 'the game.' I wasn't even a player! You know what got me? Wrong place, wrong time. Some asshole decided he wanted to settle a beef, didn't care who got in the way. And you decided the best way to stand up for me was to be that asshole. Are you kidding me?"

 

No one tried to speak. They didn't dare. 

 

"Look... I know you guys. Well, some of you, at least. And I know this. You can do better. You don't need to play this goddamn game. You can shut it down. You need to. C'mon, man, there are enough mes already. You want more? Hell --" He pointed to Alisha. "You want the other players to pick up on what she was doing? You want to bring more of this **** into the neighborhood? Stop this. Get rid of the drugs and guns, gather the cash, and put it to some good use. That's me saying it. Not such sock puppet wearing my face." 

 

Darius shook his head; to Nick's eyes, it looked like he was growing lighter. Without the binding to sustain it, his ectoplasm was likely unraveling as he was being called back to his destination. "Look. Don't think I got much longer. So I'm just gonna say this. You wanna honor me? Make sure this **** doesn't happen again. Not the magic ****, just... this. All of this. We can keep this hood safe without being the Rojos. That's all I'm asking. Ain't that enough?"

 

With that, Darius faded into the night, vanishing entirely. The night was silent, save for the restrained sobs of Alisha.