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Post by Lynoic Burrows on Sept 20, 2010 23:06:03 GMT -5
Sitting on a cornflake...
Waiting for the van to come...  Dancing in the flowers, driving in your VW van with long, untamed hair and wearing a tie dye t-shirt. Loving life and emotionally and mentally flying free and wanting nothing more than peace, love and rock n roll. This is the idea of the original hippie from the 1960s, the “groovy” time. The time that young, dead Lynoic still lived within.
She lit another campfire, a campfire no one else would see up close, but only from the road. Everyone, especially cops would come to stop the camp fire, but all that would be there was the lingering smell. The smell that never left since she had died at that spot.
The dirty blond slowly stood, touching the trees around her. It always felt like she was alive, but she just in a time slip, no one could see her unless... they were sensitive or if she really struggled to be seen. She hummed to herself, enjoying the quiet of the early morning.
Her bare feet made a soft pattering noise as she trotted through the forest, jumping up into the air at times, feeling like she was moving faster than the gait she was actually going. She finally stopped to looking down at the river below her. If only she could enjoy that feeling again. Water caressing her skin.
She sat down slowly, her feet dangling in the water. Of course, she couldn't really feel it, her feet and legs becoming slightly transparant. She whimpered, splashing her feet around. She could splash, but no one could see.
She hated not being noticed. Yet, she hated being bothered. People straight out looking for her, because they heard of the rumors, she hated them. Normal passerby's that have never heard? She could play human easily. |
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Post by Danielle Maiker on Sept 20, 2010 23:28:14 GMT -5
Danny had heard rumors, read reports of a ghost out here in the bush. People would see fires, especially cops, come to put them out and find nothing but the smell of smoke. Of course, they chalked it up to teenagers playing pranks on them, lighting fires and then taking off before the cops could get there. Of course, the local newspaper was a little more sensational about it. The article about a local ghost’s tragic story was what had caught her attention. Honestly, it wasn’t the type of case a hunter would normally take. The ghost never hurt anyone, was rarely seen, and more of a local legend than a reality. But Danielle didn’t really have much else to do, so why not. She’d spent the night exploring the surrounding wilderness and had finally found the ghost’s supposed campsite. The scent of smoke hit her the moment she got close. Now a dog, she stopped and tested the air. Yep, definitely smoke. It was a good smell, but also a bad sign. So ghostie was real. Tail behind her like a flag, she trotted forward with her head halfway to the ground. She wanted to be able to catch scents from both the ground and the air. The smoke smell seemed to come from everywhere, but it definitely had a point of origin. When she reached the fire she could not see, the hair stood up along her spine and she sniffed the dirt. Danny could practically feel the heat coming off the fire. She looked up, nose flaring a million miles a minute. She could be heard snuffling in the scent of smoke. There was a new trail of it. She looked down towards the river, cocked her head, and started forward. |
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Post by Lynoic Burrows on Sept 20, 2010 23:37:19 GMT -5
Sitting on a cornflake...
Waiting for the van to come... Someone was here? She could hear movement. Her whole body became rigid for a moment as she slowly stood up and look int the direction of the eyes. It was a K9. A large grin appeared on her face as she leaned forward for a moment. What an interesting dog!
Couldn't a dog see her? She had remembered hearing that animals could see things at a year age. Rather or not it was true, she decided to actually struggle to be seen, just so she could get some kind of affection from the fuzzy creature.
Hey doggy! She explained, padding over her, her dirty, bare feet pattering on the soft terrain. Can you see me? She questioned, kneeling down, seeing if the dog would let her approach more. God, this is what it has come too. Trying to have a conversation with a animal. |
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Post by Danielle Maiker on Sept 21, 2010 23:34:53 GMT -5
Danny wasn’t sure what exactly happened when she looked up towards the river, but it was definitely something. At first, she only saw a sort of warped space of air, but that space slowly wavered into the shape of a woman. She was a …hippie? Well that was a new one and a little dramatic. Well actually it was kind of a romantic cliché if Danielle had ever seen one, but when you were a hunter, you took what you got. Somehow she had a feeling that, real or not, this job wasn’t her kind. Was that ghost actually trying to talk to her…and get her attention? Well the lady was either crazy or super creepy sneaky creature. Danny looked right at her, stared practically. She felt her hackles already up and gave a warning woof. But she was willing to give this …um woman a chance. After all, she had never harmed anyone or even threatened some stupid teenager who’d come to “hunt” for her. Being a supernatural being was not a sufficient reason to condemn someone, Danny should know that better than anyone. Licking her maw, she cocked her head the other way and sniffed at the ghost without moving. |
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Post by Lynoic Burrows on Sept 23, 2010 21:03:20 GMT -5
Sitting on a cornflake...
Waiting for the van to come... The dog could see her? Or at least noticed her. This made the spirit very excited. She squealed and knelt down, her long dress pooling around her feet. Why hello there darling... She said, reaching her hand out. Like the dog could smell her, she only smelt of campfire and cigarettes.
She then pulled her hand away, eyes narrowing. This dogs energy was odd, the energy of a human? She blinked, falling back to sit on the ground. The cold ground. You are so not a dog, man. She said with a pouty face. Are you trying to trick me, kid? She asked, her tone still slow, but hurting.
Her dirty blond hair blew behind her slightly, even though their was no wind. She closed her eyes and seemed to exhale smoke, even though she hadn't smoked. It was impossible to smoke, right? Well, for as ghost. She smiled softly. Are you a weredog or something? |
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Post by Danielle Maiker on Sept 25, 2010 20:48:33 GMT -5
It was weird to see a ghost acting that way…like a normal human. They’d been human before, some ages ago, others not so much. But this ghost, she acted like she had just passed on, yet looked old enough to have forgotten her humanity. Normally ghosts stuck around because of some unfinished business or a need for revenge. This ghost seemed to have neither going for her. She was just idling here, not taking revenge, not fulfilling a purpose, just hanging out, smoking god knows what (and in the astral plain, who could tell). When the ghost realized Danny wasn’t completely a dog, she seemed disappointed and hurt. It was almost like she was insulted that she’d been lied to. That was a little shocking. Danny cocked her head, eyes calculating. This ghost was different, odd to say the least. She didn’t answer the question. Her trying to trick a ghost? Preposterous. Not to mention, how would she answer, humans didn’t speak dog. Even Danny didn’t speak fluent dog. If she had been raised by her real parents, maybe, but not now. To the question on whether or not she was a weredog, she perked up, but refused to not or shake her head. Licking her jaws to stifle a growing string of saliva, she stepped forward, sniffing. Definitely a ghost, not just some human, a ghost. Somehow Danny doubted a normal human could blow out smoke without ever taking a drag. |
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Post by Lynoic Burrows on Sept 30, 2010 20:28:53 GMT -5
Sitting on a cornflake...
Waiting for the van to come... Poor, poor Lynoic still did have some unfinished business. She was going to California and never made it, of course, it was still her goal. Yet, her spirit was only limited to the places she could go. She could only stay where she had been. She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head.
Curious. Why are you in dog form? She asked, chuckling. I hope you didn't think I was violent. She then narrowed her eyes again, smoke seeping from her nose, though it was campfire smoke. Obviously you couldn't see me until I tried, hence, why I knew you weren't all dog.
This wasn't fun, talking to a dog who was human. A weredog that refused to talk back. This was wasting her time. If, of course, she had time. Hope you weren't planning on trying to make me move on or shit. |
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