Rajanish
Pangea was the land of his father; but it was as dead as he himself had been. This time, he goes to Sylva, the land where he was born, where he had truly lived, where he had been free to, and in fact been encouraged to, experiment. It had been Sylva and his Sylvan memories that had visited him in the Afterlife, or rather that was what he came up with - possibly it’s his memories visiting him there and nothing else. When time stands still however, one tends not to worry about anything at all. His best educated guess is that this is why most of the ghosts in the Afterlife are content to stay where they are.
He... materializesin the ever-autumnal forest. Silent as a ghost, which he had been from the day of his birth; perhaps his haunting was always a thing he had carried in himself. Rajanish was always odd but strong, but now... now he feels even more solid, stronger than ever.
He should have visited Sylva much, much earlier, if this was the effect.
The ghost is still a ghost though; still translucent, and still capable of phasing through the forest. Still bound to the rules of the dead - but the fun part is, he’s also not bound to the rules of the living. No smell - if the smell of Afterlife decay followed him maybe, but not the smell of a horse; he has no real body. No sound - he doesn’t rustle any leaves, twigs and branches don’t touch him. Not when he doesn’t want them to, at any rate.
Transportation is motionless for the ghost; he has stopped making habitual movements indicating walking, floats forwards or sideways instead. It doesn’t take him long to find the perfect target; a pearlescent woman, who with that coloration and sort-of status (what is status in Sylva?) should have kept her coat prettier.
She has not, so it’s her he wants to study. - hello -
Pick her apart.
He... materializesin the ever-autumnal forest. Silent as a ghost, which he had been from the day of his birth; perhaps his haunting was always a thing he had carried in himself. Rajanish was always odd but strong, but now... now he feels even more solid, stronger than ever.
He should have visited Sylva much, much earlier, if this was the effect.
The ghost is still a ghost though; still translucent, and still capable of phasing through the forest. Still bound to the rules of the dead - but the fun part is, he’s also not bound to the rules of the living. No smell - if the smell of Afterlife decay followed him maybe, but not the smell of a horse; he has no real body. No sound - he doesn’t rustle any leaves, twigs and branches don’t touch him. Not when he doesn’t want them to, at any rate.
Transportation is motionless for the ghost; he has stopped making habitual movements indicating walking, floats forwards or sideways instead. It doesn’t take him long to find the perfect target; a pearlescent woman, who with that coloration and sort-of status (what is status in Sylva?) should have kept her coat prettier.
She has not, so it’s her he wants to study. - hello -
Pick her apart.
No cost too great. No mind to think. No will to break.
No voice to cry out suffering.
No voice to cry out suffering.
@[Sabra] Your not so friendly, neighborhood ghost has arrived <3[/i][/i]