I ain't scared of no-

[jazzandtiramisu]

To be perfectly honest, he was fucking around.

Arcaeus was off doing Real Demon things and probably wouldn't be back reliably for a few months at least. Lannos wasn't used to being left behind in his lover's exploits, but the other demon had his reasons and Lannos had very little reason to question him on it. Except it left him bored. A month of doing anything he wanted free-range and he was left wanting to do none of it; even Mire and Marine only provided so much distraction and he needed Mire to go out and do her thing for him anyway. While she was off tripping people and knocking over towered boxes, he was left bemoaning his own boredom.

At least until he'd heard down the grapevine of a little place off the East coast. He'd been all over the East coast, most of it looked the same as the rest, but this place was noteworthy because of some unknown something in the area. Nothing noteworthy enough to warrant inspection, but enough to cause a whisper. No one quite knew who might be responsible for it, surely some Celestial or another.

But Lannos was bored and he'd never been to this East Coast town so why the hell not? He hadn't found much. Mostly same-old you'd find in any small-town community. They seemed nice enough and when he made eyes at the girl in the diner, she gave him a slice of pie he didn't order, but nothing out of the ordinary. The most noteworthy thing were the young family on the outskirts of town who'd just moved there a week ago, right into one of the older houses.

It had just seemed too perfect.

He made the dishes rattle, stopped clocks at 6:66AM, moved chairs and frames just out from where they were supposed to be and he could practically feel the dread building in the house. He almost never corrupted or tormented people as his mentor wished he would, Arcaeus' protection was the only thing keeping him as free to do nothing as he was. But there was a simple joy in scaring the shit out of some humans.

Maybe he overstepped his bounds by making himself only visible to the family's youngest daughter and being her 'imaginary friend' but it had felt too achingly familiar to pass up. Besides, where was the harm in letting them know exactly how 'haunted' they were?

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[ragwitch]

Piper has better things to do with her time than this.

She could be weaving. She could be gardening. She could be knitting her dog another sweater. But no. No, because some asshole ghost decided to start rattling around an old house and having tea parties with a little girl, she has to haul her arthritic ass to the other side of town with a pair of crying parents carrying a boatload of her nice exorcism wool.

“Don’t get tears on it,” she warned as the mother sobbed over her sack of wool. “You’ll fuck up the magic.”

The littlest girl is the only one who seems to have any sense, pleased to chatter about her ‘friend’ as they walk up to the house. The parents must really be out of it, because Piper has had her customary potty mouth and they haven’t told her to hush up for the kids once.

When she gets to the doorway, she grabs the sacks of wool from the parents without ceremony, handing out bundles of sage in exchange.

“Set then on fire and swish the smoke around the house’s perimeter,” she says. “That’ll stop it from leaving and then coming back later. Get a hotel room and come back when I call you.”

“Do I get to play with the fire?” the littlest girl asks.

“Yeah, knock yourself out.” Piper snaps her fingers, gesturing for the parents to stop crying and go do it before she’s stomps into the house. The air inside is chilled, prickling her skin and making her wooden joints ache. Yeah, it’s a ghost alright.

She slams her shitty knockoff smartphone on the dining room table, turning on some loud music before dropping her sacks on the ground. Clean, uncarded wool.

She watches the windows as the smell of sage begins to filter in, forming a solid barrier before she flops into a chair and takes off her eyepatch.

Her eye is cloudy and blue, surrounded by a blotchy dark mark that makes her look like a panda bear, but it’s good for this. It lets her see spirits when they try sneaking up on her. She pushes back her chair, settling her combat boots on the table, and she pulls two carding brushes from her pockets. She grabs a handful of wool and starts carding.

She hums along to her music, ignoring the ghost for now. If it wants to be a nuisance, it’ll do that just fine without prodding.

[jazzandtiramisu]

The parents had brought a few people into the house over the weeks, first to try and prove to themselves they weren't losing their minds and then to try and help. Most of them ran off with their tails between their legs the minute Lannos bothered to try. Although doing absolutely nothing when the first few people came around was hilarious. There'd be the parents, holding their breath fr something to happen and he'd just be kicking back on their damn piano watching as their friends steadily begin to think maybe the young couple had lost their minds.

Of course, maybe he should have stuck with that, this new person actually looked like she might know what she was doing, they were even burning sage. A smart move, if he'd actually been a ghost.

But she started messing with her cotton and blasting her music and the demon just waited, cross-legged and invisible on the back of the couch. A veritable stalemate.

At least until his patience ran out.

The large clock in the living room started chiming to six even though it was barely two in the afternoon and it did two sets of them before stopping. Three was traditional but if she was expecting three, it'd fuel some perfect tension in the air if she was waiting for it.

[ragwitch]

Piper has carded a decent amount of wool by now. Not enough, but a decent amount. Then the clock starts chiming early.

The clock chimes six, then six again--oh how original--and she waits for the third set as she works on her carding. It takes her a minute to realize it's not coming, and that this is a ghost with a good flair for the dramatic.

Either that or it's trying to get a message across, maybe for how to put it to rest, but Piper doesn't feel much like doing favors for the kind of ghost that uses kids to freak out families.

She doesn't bother acknowledging the clock. She ignores the ghost like she'd ignore an annoying little kid--instead, she gathers up all the wool she's carded and starts spinning it into thread, nodding her head along to her music.