[attr="class","blbqimg"]

[attr="class","bisc"]Mage wasn’t the only one with an ethereal companion. Though his ghost pal was a little closer to him. To be more accurate, she was inside. The signs of this possession could be seen in the occasional flash of purple in his eyes. She said her feet were tired, so he’d decided to let his ghoulish guardian hitch a ride. The pack of grave covers she made was currently thrown over his shoulder. The old bird liked keeping her ghoulish buds warm.

'You should pick up some yarn on the way home. Multicolored. Four spools—no, six. Enough for a baby blanket.’ Obviously,, that thought wasn’t his own. He couldn’t knit. 'Crochet, Scotti. I crochet.' He murmured an apology. “Sorry, Bubbe. You know I’m not very artsy-fartsy.” Seemingly insulted by that, the grandmotherly voice vanished into an irritable silence.

Sure, ghosts could be kind of creepy. But Bubbe never bothered him. Or, well, she only did it because it was her job. Through her ability to split their pain, the Runerigus gave him back pain. Which wasn’t a good gift for most people. But for him it was a literal lifesaver. He now knew why sticking his hand in a fire was a great idea. It fricking hurt. Duh

A brow went up as he—they--rounded the corner. This guy seemed to be talking to himself. “Uhh…” He glanced up to where his Runerigus would normally float, forgetting she wasn’t there. It’d be rude to sneak by and not say anything. He craned around the dark-haired man to look in the water. It looked crystal clear. “You sure that’s sanitary?”

His reflection showed two different colored eyes.

☉

[attr="class","blbqimg"]

[attr="class","bisc"]Bubbe could sense that this man was strange. The ghostly energy he exuded was not different from her own. Be careful, Bibi. Her voice cautioned in his own head. This guy’s got ghost written all over him.

If he heard the telepathy, the younger man didn’t show it. He was kind of like a dog—friendly to a fault. Scotti squinted at the water. “I’m not even sure you could.” His shoe nudged a pebble into the water. “It’s what, like six-inches deep?” Not that the shallowness continued for long. That blue was pretty dang dark in the middle. Shaking moisture off the tip of his tennis shoes, he grinned.

Then, the guy asked a question. A super weird, personal question. Biscotti blinked, his cheeks instantly red. “Uhhhhhh…” A heavily scarred hand lifted to his chest. Bubbe’s voice echoed in his mind: I’d be in him any time. Meow. He shook his head, trying to clear the commentary.What did this guy want inside of him? A knife? Other things? “Organs and stuff? Wh—?” Before he could get the question out, capturing maneuvers ensured. His eyes grew even wider.

“Dude! That was awesome!” Sure, he’d caught some stuff in his day, but it wasn’t anything like that. Usually, the Pokemon just jumped in the ball. The next question made his hands drop to the hem of his shorts, seemingly protecting himself from showing this guy anything. “Uh. I’m pretty sure that’s a crime—” Then, he felt his insides shudder. Not your member, Scotti, he refers to me. His eyes finally caught on the Dragcloak.

“O-oh! I—I thought you meant—” Arceus strike him dead. Scotti wanted to sink into the ground. He jerked his head. With a sigh, the Runerigus emerged, blinking irritably in the light. One of its shadowy fingers extended, aiming to stroke the little baby wrapped around the stranger’s shoulders. “This is Bubbe. She’s kind of my—” Babysitter? Weird pervy grandma? “--nurse?”

Skipping
Mage Maddox

☉

[attr="class","blbqimg"]

[attr="class","bisc"]between an easygoing grin and frog swallowing—wasn’t making it any easier. Not wanting to feel left out, Scotti laughed too. Maybe this guy would think it’d been a joke all along. Not a tatally embarrassing misunderstanding.

“It’s not—I mean she kind of does the opposite, really.” She hurt him. Or, at least, patched whatever in his DNA didn’t let him feel hurt. Was it a BDSM thing? Not wanting to dwell on that for too long, he hastened to finish his explanation.“But I doubt I’d have made it that long without her." Or, at least, he’d have ended up down a limb or a few fingers.

The elder ghost’s center stone spun in greeting. She seemed amused by Clarence’s reaction. Its tendril passed through the bite to emerge on the other side, leaving only a barely perceptible chill.



“Dude! That’s a sweet name.” It was way better than being named after a random thing on a bakery menu. Still, he’d heard it all. “Biscotti.” At the offer to share, the young man seemed to debate for a minute. Did he smoke? He almost wanted to say of course; even though the only time that happened was when he caught something on fire. A million DARE presentations flashed through his mind. “Not the last time I checked. Thanks though.”


The disappearing Shuppet earned a jump. It was there one second and gone the next. Almost proud, the Runerigus moved to pat Clarence in an almost maternal way. For a string of rocks, its touch was surprisingly soft.

Seemingly looking to defend its friend, a pockmarked sword erupted from the brush. Not wanting it to suffer the same fate, Scotti clumsily lobbed a ball at it. “Is uh—do you know what ghosts taste like?”

Catching Honedge
Mage Maddox

☉