T - Yuiven, Xenon - COmplete

[Nathalia]

Though this intrepid Ace ghost is difficult to unnerve...there have been some unnerving rumors spreading around the Palace of late.
There have been awful rumors spreading through the halls about those Lowland Hearts Canines...about what some of the staff would like to see done to them, regardless of their recent absence.
Everyone seems crueler than usual, the Queen, the King, the staff, everyone except for himself seems to be having incredible twinges of irrepressible anger and flashes of horrible cruelness toward Lowlanders of all kinds.
A day after beginning to hear these rumors, he will run across Vaska. Vaska’s insanity is allowing him to see ghosts for a short period of time...to hear them as well. They may search the Palace for the source of this anger that seems unable to affect them...and they will find the head of a Lowlander in the icebox in the kitchen.

(Your goal, after hearing about these rumors...becoming incredibly more deadly and ruthless as the days pass, is to decide what he would war out within himself to do about the situation, if anything. Once they decide upon their points of decision, your next goal will be revealed.)

[Yuiven]

The tension was growing more and more palpable as Wiglaf made his daily rounds inside the Palace halls. An invisible face amongst the throngs of nobility and servants, continuing on his self-appointed position as one of the guardians of the people. He swung his head from side to side, brow furrowed, observing the sights and sounds in the current sector as he proceeded down the opulent and immaculate corridor, looking lost and a little unsure of himself.

Normally, he'd tag after Beowulf while the guard was on duty, serving as an extra pair of eyes and ears alert to any wrongdoings. In death, even as in life, the faithful sidekick to his valiant hero. But he wasn't accompanying Beowulf today. No, today, for the first time since the near-death occasion at Perseus' hands, Wiglaf was completely alone.

Drifting to the side, out of the path of passing Cards, he came to a halt, frowned and crossed his arms, unnerved by the isolation, unnerved by the sheer fact of being unnerved; however, the spirit of the Ace decided, it was the latest rumours he had heard that were most unnerving.

I-I don't get it... what's with everyone and this sudden desire for vengeance against those Lowlanders? he wondered to himself. Had it always been this way, or have I been oblivious this whole time?

[carcinoGeneticist]

Vaska hated it here. Sure, he might have been a Heart, but his daddy was DEAD. More than that, he'd accidentally killed Bernard, and even though he hadn't meant it no one had ever treated him the same after. No one. Not even Falksie or Ben. The only comfort he got was from Alex, but someone had found him with the Ace and screamed at him for a very long time. It hurt his ears and made him scared, and that scared had stayed with him for aaaaages afterwards.

He knew he should just leave, but that was more difficult now than ever before. He couldn't fly anymore! How was he supposed to run away with only his stupid little Bat legs to carry him?

The desire to run was only made worse by the sudden shift in attitude that had come over the Courts. The Lowland Canines had been annoying, sure, but a little funny. Especially the frothy one - that one had made Vaska laugh until his sides hurt. The things some people were saying about them were just mean, and maybe even a little bit scary. They unsettled the young Solandrian deeply. If they were so willing to do things like that to a bunch of Cards who never did anything at all, what would they do to a boy with no father who had killed the beloved old King (on accident)?

Vaska repressed a shudder, barely. He scratched nervously at his mostly-missing ear, at the thick scar tissue. He glanced around. Nothing seemed off, except... That... ....What the hell was that Horse doing there?! And why was he....

The Bat screamed at Wiglaf, too frightened even to run. GHOST!

[Yuiven]

It was an almost instinctive gesture on Wiglaf's part to raise his left hand and thread his fingers through his waist-long locks. He tilted his head to one side, chocolate brown eyes glazing over while running through the thick silver hair with long, loving strokes, intermittently rubbing some of the strands together. Not only had the rhythmic caressing proven to be soothing for him in times of distress, they also provided a much-needed distraction right now, so as to mull over this abrupt change in attitude which had come over the Court.

If it were just the Jossigies spreading such malicious gossip, he'd take it with a grain of salt and consider the source (after all, the age-old hatred they bore for the inhabitants of the Lowlands, dull and dangerous, sharp and malignant, was common knowledge). Seeming to pause, Wiglaf's eyes hardened, narrowing in thought. From what he had been hearing over the past couple of days though, it wasn't just the Josiggies; apparently everybody- the Queen, the King, the Jacks and the staff alike -regardless of realm, were making disparaging remarks and threatening to inflict bodily harm upon that pair of Lowland canines. Annoying as those two were, not even they deserved that kind of flak. Especially the big fellow who never outwardly resented it when the Cards he served harassed him because of his repulsive appearance, as well as his size and slow wit. Thinking about it made Wiglaf's heart wrench with pure sympathy. Why this sudden flare-up in hostilities? What right did anyone have to seek retaliation on two Lowlanders who've never committed a crime except be themselves?

Any further contemplation on the issue was interrupted by a piercing scream.

Wiglaf jumped in fright, almost succeeding in yanking the section of his mane out by the roots. He stumbled sideways, as if pushed back by the sheer vocal force, but managed to recover fairly quickly by pivoting on one hoof to regain his balance, whirling to find himself staring into space. Blinking in confusion, the Sorgaire Percheron then looked down and stopped dead, face-to-face with Vaska. A look of complete surprise and bewilderment crossed his features. Unable to move, Wiglaf stood stock-still, staring as the young Solandrian bat screamed at the top of his lungs.

Judging from his expression, one would think he'd seen a...

All the noise around Wiglaf faded to a humming silence. "You..." he said. "You can see me?"

[carcinoGeneticist]

In Vaska's mind, his screaming went on for quite a long time.

In reality, it only lasted as long as his lung capacity before he collapsed against the wall, chest panting and heaving to regain his breath. The action was rather dramatic, perhaps more than necessary. Oh, Suits, there was a ghost in the halls! Or an invisible man, but the Bat was leaning heavily on the side of ghost. This meant one of several possibilities, including the possibility that he was dead or that he had really gone off the deep end of the crazy-pool.

Vaska's ears twitched, barely registering what the man had said for a long few seconds. When they did, though, his little heart started to pound all over again, and he turned to face the Ace. His eyes went wide. This man... He'd never seen this man before!! Not only that, it sounded like he wasn't supposed to be able to! "I do... I can!!" His words faded into a high-pitched whine, and he covered his eyes with his wings. "No... nooooooo... Please don't hurt me! I promise, I won't tell anyone your secret!!" Surely, this specter was responsible for all the hate in the Palace... right? Wasn't that what ghosts did?

[Yuiven]

This was a startling revelation which made Wiglaf feel many different, conflicting emotions all at once: perplexed, anxious and, strangely, a little elated. Overexertion from knocking over that flower-filled vase had drained him powerless to speak, let alone manifest, to Beowulf for months. As it was, Wiglaf had been reduced to a mere wraith, compared to what he was before. No regrets, for in saving his best friend, he accomplished something that should not have been possible. To see Beowulf live another day was worth the personal sacrifice- the confrontation with the former presiding Queen was categorized as the rare kind of trouble that the Josiggy crow couldn't have gotten out of on his own. But, as the old phrase, muttered in sardonic tones by disgruntled philosophers, goes, 'no good deed goes unpunished.' Since then Wiglaf had been forced to lie low, gradually building up his strength in the interval, in order to be restored whole once more.

Now it dawned on him- very slowly, because it was a completely new sensation -that someone else in the land of the living could see him. The complete reverse was so often the case that he had come to think of it as a kind of cardinal rule. This... THIS WASN'T RIGHT! The ghost was supposed to be seen only by his chosen haunt, not by the (pun unintended but funny nonetheless) batshit insane son of Her Excellence Peaches and the late Lord Seth!

It was with sad resignation, cemented by recent events, that Wiglaf realized only crazy people can see ghosts. What does that say about Beowulf?

What passed for reality in this plane of existence reasserted itself with a rush of sound. It made his ears pop.

His breathing short and ragged, he started to tremble, unsure what to do. The ancient voice of equine instinct was fervently telling him to run. The Percheron wanted very much in that moment to turn around and bolt away like a mad thing, all the way back to Beowulf's side and pretend this chance meeting never occurred, but his body was frozen, his eyes locked onto the unexpected witness. There was some potent concern that obliged him to stay.

One halting step at the time, Wiglaf walked towards Vaska, in a few short strides standing in front of the boy. Crouching low on bended knee so they were on the same level, he smiled and held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not going to hurt you," Wiglaf felt compelled to say, as reassuringly as he could manage, "Only a poltergeist would harm you, and I promise that I'm no poltergeist." Hopefully Vaska would grasp the tone and intention, if not the actual content.

[carcinoGeneticist]

In the boy's chest, his heart was pounding so hard he thought it was going to explode.

The appearance of this ghost surely meant one of several things. Most likely, the Ace (for he was an Ace, Vaska had peered through the holes in his wing to make sure) had heard of his impropriety with Alex, and was here to punish him. Shivers went all up and down the little boy's spine and he twisted even more severely around himself. Or there was that other possibility... That one was much more likable, because it didn't paint Vaska in quite the same light of negativity.

But if that was the case, was the ghost lying to him?

Suddenly filled with disbelief and maybe even a little outrage, the Solandrian whirled to face the Ace. "Just you wait one second, here!" he announced, jabbing a wing-claw in the apparition's general direction. He didn't look the man square in the eye, though. Instead, he stared at an ear. That was much easier to do. The hairs along the back of his neck bristled. "You won't hurt me directly, you mean. I know your lies, I know what you've done!"

Ah, the jabberings of an insane child.

Vaska's lip curled slightly. "You're why the whole Court's been saying such horrible things about those... those Dogs, isn't it? You whisper things in their ears at night and their brains take it all in and... that's MEAN, they can't even SEE you!!"

[Yuiven]

When Vaska flung out a wing-claw, pointing directly at him, the gesture was so unexpected that Wiglaf fell back on his butt with a gasp. His throat tightened reflexively to silence any words of protest as he was forced to hear out this preposteruous charge against him. Taken aback, quite unable to believe the blatant injustice with which he had been confronted, Wiglaf looked down at the wing-claw jabbed in the middle of his chest, then looked up at his accuser. He felt a startling sensation-- anger such as he had rarely experienced gripped him. Pinning his ears to his skull and snorting very loudly through his nostrils, his face contorted in outrage. "I beg your pardon?!"

Scathing words were on his lips, burning to be said, when his conscience began to wrestle with his temper. One could see why the ghost was more than a little put off, though one does wonder what he really had to gain by essentially providing evidence to the little ragamuffin who had made the accusation, by lashing out like a genuine poltergiest was wont to do.

Silently he berated himself. Why, oh why, hadn't he just dematerialised and made a break for it, instead of sitting around arguing? But he felt compelled to defend himself against such slander.

Wiglaf clenched his hands and mentally counted backwards from one hundred. Upon reaching forty-two, he took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was strained with the effort it took to control himself. "If no one in the Court can see me,"- Barring one special exception, the stallion amended privately -"how do you suppose anyone can hear me? Now how you are able to see me and hear me," Wiglaf barreled on, without giving an opportunity to interrupt, "I don't have a clue. It's probably a mistake. Furthermore..." he trailed off as the full import of the young raving wacko's words struck him.

Brows lowered, he said, "Hold it, what did you just say? Those dogs... are you talking about the two Lowlanders?" Wiglaf cocked his head, regarding Vaska with a speculative eye. "Are you worried about them too?"

[carcinoGeneticist]

The ghost was talking to him. Talking. To him. Vaska's ear went back and his stump twitched awkwardly and he bristled all over, just to prove he wasn't afraid. Not of being alone, not of dark, and not of stupid ghosts! Especially not ghosts who lied.

Because he was lying. Had to be. No other way to explain it.

That or Vaska was crazy.

Nope, the Horse was full of spite and hateful, nasty lies. His little face folded into a seriously unhappy frown, his eyes narrowing. At the best of times, Vaska didn't like being lectured. Being lectured by someone he didn't even know was even worse (though maybe being lectured by a ghost made up for it, just a little - Falks and Ben were literally not going to believe this!). But then, before Vaska could give his not-caring-face, the general mood changed, and the little Bat faltered.

"Well... Yeah." He said, glancing around to make sure no one was coming up on them. "They never really did nothin', the way I see it, and now people are just talkin' all about doing really bad things to them. It's... weird." He shivered, pulling his wings up around himself and lowering his ear again. Then he glanced up at the Ace again.

"So you've seen it all too? An'... you didn't do it? Then what did?"

[Nathalia]

((An odd howling sound suddenly pierces the night and a cold wind slams through every hallway.
Dear me, Vaska...maybe it's best to stay with the stupid ghost, seeing as everything just fell deathly quiet.
A smell like cooking is wafting up from the lower levels of the Palace and an odd mumbling noise can be heard from that direction as well.
Best to go check it out...just to make sure Beo and Falks and Ben are ok...both were down by the kitchens, last the pair of you saw them...))

(Your goal is to get to the kitchens, which appear deserted, and search them.
Look out for that head in the fridge and decide what to do with yourselves in regards to the disturbing surroundings and lack of people.))

~Nathalia