[Kisa finds Damian doing exactly what is expected and typical: working. With the shades of (former?) villagers active, he's trying to observe them as much as possible.
Once he realized they don't react to anyone else, that they aren't people who have been on their side, he's okay with hanging out by the well and the community board, notebook in hand.
By the looks of it, he's probably doodling between all the writing, ghostly townspeople filing back and forth between as if he's not there at all. The only pase he gives is when he spots Kisa wading through.]
[ It's clear from a glance that Kisa's not thrilled with the shades. But they're also hard to avoid, so while her tiger ears would be plastered against her head if they were visible, she sucks it up and makes her way through them. Right up to Damian.
And after a short pause, she extends the frame out to him. ]
[As Kisa gets closer, Damian lowers the notebook against his waist and lap. His eyes flick down to the extended arm, forward to the frame in her hand. His sharp brows furrow, and he reaches out to take it for inspection. He's thinking it's someone from town maybe, whether the former town or the town now.
He isn't expecting the refined, tuxedo-clad and familiar man.
The way his serious expression breaks is evidence enough he recognizes the person there. His fingers tighten gently. Again, two times, three, his eyes sweep over the square, the edges of Pennyworth's face. There's something strangely soft in how he looks at it.]
[ ... Oh. There's answer enough before he even speaks, and Kisa keeps her eyes trained on his face. Damian's expression rarely gets this soft, and it's not hard to tell that it's because of this person.
Whoever this is. ]
It was on my bed. I thought... it might have something to do with my wish. And if it is... then it belongs to you.
Ah. [It would make sense, being a fulfillment for her wish. Something important from home. This man is important, isn't he?] I do know him. It's Alfred Pennyworth. The original. [Holding the frame in as much of both hands as he can, he rubs his thumbs faintly over the picture.]
He is my father's former caretaker and current butler.
[ Well. That's one mystery solved. Two, really, because now the picture is where it belongs, and she knows who this man is and additionally that he's someone important to Damian. Maybe he's also a father figure? ]
I'm glad, then... that you got this. [ That he did indeed get something important to him. ] I just wanted to make sure... so I'll leave you alone now.
[Oddly surprised by her sudden appearance and even more sudden disappearance, he glances up. His mouth opens, but... nothing comes out for a second or two, almost thoughtfully so. His brows furrow again. He's clearly debating with himself.]
...Thank--
[The length of his arm from fingertips to elbow, further, the shoulder, vanishes into transparency. The frame slips from his hand; his reflexes are sharp and quick, but swiping his hand down to catch it perfectly--it continues to fall through to the ground.
Not often does he panic, not even really, but here, he does. Both arms are ghostly and translucent as he crouches hastily at the ground and gropes for the frame. He can't... get a hold of it. He can't even touch it, one small corner cracked very finely, though everything else is intact.]
She's looking at him, surprised, when it happens; his arms go transparent and with that, there goes his grip. It's not anything Kisa really expected, just like the look of panic on his face, and she automatically looks down at herself just to make sure she's not suddenly suffering the same affliction.
But no, both hands are visible and solid, so she crouches down beside him and carefully lifts the frame off the ground, using one sleeve to brush snow off of it. ]
[Even being a little startled about the arms, he’s really more worried about the framed photo he got being dropped on the ground. Breaking. A prized gift, and he’s squandering it and Kisa’s wish by being unintentional butterfingers.]
I see it.
[He’s glad she can still pick it up. Carefully, he turns his hands over and inspects his arms. The translucency continues, slowly, swallowing his shoulders, his head, his chest. His eyes lift to Kisa, and he frowns.]
[As long as he isn't... completely gone, he thinks it'll be fine. As long as she can hear him.] Because of the apparitions perhaps. They never reacted to the rest of us no matter what you would do.
But they don't react to me now either. [For a long moment or two, he doesn't move, doesn't speak. She may get worried and ask something of him to make sure he even exists, but he won't respond.
And then, slowly, he comes back as quietly and gently as he had disappeared: feet, torso, arms, his head. He's left squeezing and unfurling his hands, testing them. Nothing feels different on his end.] The story...?
[ Really, the only reason that Kisa doesn't get too worried about this is that she doubts Damian's just going to go and leave Alfred Pennyworth the Original behind. Which... doesn't prevent her from looking concerned when he stays silent, or-- jumping slightly when he slowly begins to take form again. What the-- ]
But people were... disappearing entirely, weren't they? Not... coming back?
[ After a short pause, she tentatively holds the frame out to him again. ]
They could still be here. Perhaps we merely can't see them.
[He's not sure. Not without more story, not without knowing the history of the town and what happened with the two men, the hen.
Once he's positive he isn't going to vanish into thin air again, he reaches out to take the frame gingerly. Again, he glances over the picture of Pennyworth, and then he carefully scoops up the notebook, putting them together.]
It's... like a memory. I wonder if we're able to find the people from the story. I've been watching the forest a little. To see if anyone goes inside.
[ Kisa's clearly still ill at ease, shifting slightly every so often to stay out of the path of chattering shades, flinching when she can't entirely avoid them all and they traipse right on through her.
This may be why she was absolutely prepared to fork a photograph over and book it back home. ]
Not so far. No one except children trying to get close.
[Without any kind of apparent judgment, he watches her interactions when the shades of people pass by them and through them. Slowly, he stands back up, waits a second or two so he's sure there's no other disappearing acts.]
Reducing time spent outside in town could lessen effects. Are you going home?
... Yeah. [ and she says it softly, a little shamefaced-- because she really only comes to realize how timid she is when she's with Damian, who fearlessly throws himself at pretty much everything. Her exact opposite. ]
They... come into the house sometimes, but not as much.
[He's unsure if he should find irony in the fact a man and a son claim the Flavo cottage at the edge of the forest with the animals. It's kind of a sick joke, but maybe more of a reminder for the boy who chose to forget.]
Where's the woman? I'll stay with you until she gets back. [Like hell he's going to hang around when Sierra is there. He already knows they'll butt heads, and he doesn't want to get into a fight with her in front of Kisa.] What kind of family resides in your house?
Her name is Sierra. And she's out. [ mildly reproving, because she has absolutely no idea why Damian dislikes her so much. She's never bitten her (just come close). She's always been kind and supportive.
Baffling!! ]
... It's an older couple. A man and a woman... but sometimes there are kids and another couple that come in. [ They seem happy, and that's great, but it still makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. ]
[All Kisa gets is a grunt at the correction. An older woman and man isn't so bad. A bit crowded when--what? a child and grandchildren? come to visit. Logically, he can understand why it unnerves Kisa.
Realistically, he's a very different apple from a very different tree, and the only thing which bothers him about "ghosts" are the fact they sometimes can't be punched or kicked.
Without answer, he tucks the notebook and the framed picture of Alfred under his arm and moves by her for maybe a yard before stopping to glance back.] What? Come on.
If I hadn't planned to stay, I wouldn't have wasted my time saying I would. [Which is about the only thing she'll get in terms of "yeah, I'll stay."] Girls are always scaredy-cats anyway... [Please smash him in the back of his stupid head with a snowball.]
[ Damian is very lucky that Kisa is the Sohma who absolutely will not do that, even though she returns his glance with a slight, mulish frown. Something like a pout, maybe. But she still moves to follow him. ]
That's not true, I just--!
[ Well. That quiet protest is ending in a yelp as her feet suddenly leave the ground-- and despite her best efforts to return to said ground, it only makes her float a little higher. ]
[One day, he'll teach Kisa to throw those kinds of snowballs. And other devious, petty things. Push a few of his backbones into hers.]
You just wh--
[The mischievous smirk on his face is gone almost instantly. Surprisingly, he abandons both notebook and frame again, this time of his own accord. They whomp into a pile of snow, thankfully, and he makes a mad dash across the distance between them.] Kisa! [He jumps, but all he can catch is one of her hands in both of his own.
There's nothing to anchor himself to either; all he can do is drop his hips and his weight and try to keep the two of them ground.] Hold... on...!
[ This poor picture frame. Alfred Pennyworth deserves better than spending so much bonding time with the snow.
And Kisa would feel bad about that, and will likely feel bad about it later, but for now, she's a little more focused on not floating away. Which involves a death-grip on Damian's hand while she fumbles to catch hold of his arm with her free hand. ]
I'm trying...!
[ She's got about as much control as a kite, unfortunately. At least she's not floating any higher, but she's having a hard time getting back to the actual ground. ]
[This damn town. He hates it ninety percent of the time. Always pulling stunts like this; worse, ice palaces, talking furniture, talking birds, an island of sirens. Give them a break!] Just--keep holding on! Don't let go. [Luckily, he doesn't seem to be lifting himself.
There isn't any gravitational force behind her rising, only a kind of floating, and if he can at least hold onto her, they should be okay. If not--well, no one ever said he didn't have the stupid bat grapple hidden away on himself.]
[The second Kisa's floating stops and slack returns, he says, simply,] Damn. [And then she comes crashing down on top of him. He yelps quietly at suddenness of it, trying to both keep her from getting hurt and the two of them from becoming a tangle of limbs.
She wouldn't necessarily be heavier than she is now as a tiger, but tiger changing is just not what they need right now.] Nng.
Are you--alright?
[This'll be embarrassing maybe in a minute. Give it time.]
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never i love it
Once he realized they don't react to anyone else, that they aren't people who have been on their side, he's okay with hanging out by the well and the community board, notebook in hand.
By the looks of it, he's probably doodling between all the writing, ghostly townspeople filing back and forth between as if he's not there at all. The only pase he gives is when he spots Kisa wading through.]
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And after a short pause, she extends the frame out to him. ]
I... found this. Do you know who this is?
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He isn't expecting the refined, tuxedo-clad and familiar man.
The way his serious expression breaks is evidence enough he recognizes the person there. His fingers tighten gently. Again, two times, three, his eyes sweep over the square, the edges of Pennyworth's face. There's something strangely soft in how he looks at it.]
You "found" it?
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Whoever this is. ]
It was on my bed. I thought... it might have something to do with my wish. And if it is... then it belongs to you.
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He is my father's former caretaker and current butler.
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[ Well. That's one mystery solved. Two, really, because now the picture is where it belongs, and she knows who this man is and additionally that he's someone important to Damian. Maybe he's also a father figure? ]
I'm glad, then... that you got this. [ That he did indeed get something important to him. ] I just wanted to make sure... so I'll leave you alone now.
[ BYE???? ]
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[Oddly surprised by her sudden appearance and even more sudden disappearance, he glances up. His mouth opens, but... nothing comes out for a second or two, almost thoughtfully so. His brows furrow again. He's clearly debating with himself.]
...Thank--
[The length of his arm from fingertips to elbow, further, the shoulder, vanishes into transparency. The frame slips from his hand; his reflexes are sharp and quick, but swiping his hand down to catch it perfectly--it continues to fall through to the ground.
Not often does he panic, not even really, but here, he does. Both arms are ghostly and translucent as he crouches hastily at the ground and gropes for the frame. He can't... get a hold of it. He can't even touch it, one small corner cracked very finely, though everything else is intact.]
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Uh????
She's looking at him, surprised, when it happens; his arms go transparent and with that, there goes his grip. It's not anything Kisa really expected, just like the look of panic on his face, and she automatically looks down at herself just to make sure she's not suddenly suffering the same affliction.
But no, both hands are visible and solid, so she crouches down beside him and carefully lifts the frame off the ground, using one sleeve to brush snow off of it. ]
Your arms...
[ ????? ]
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I see it.
[He’s glad she can still pick it up. Carefully, he turns his hands over and inspects his arms. The translucency continues, slowly, swallowing his shoulders, his head, his chest. His eyes lift to Kisa, and he frowns.]
Can you hear me?
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[ Seeing him is another story entirely, though. If he's gone completely translucent, she's definitely not going to be able to meet his eyes.
For now, she keeps the picture cradled close to her chest, even as her gaze turns uncertain.
What the heck, Damian. ]
It's... kind of like with the fog. I can hear you, but...
[ Well. If he can't even hold onto his photograph, she doubts she'll be able to feel him. ]
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[As long as he isn't... completely gone, he thinks it'll be fine. As long as she can hear him.] Because of the apparitions perhaps. They never reacted to the rest of us no matter what you would do.
But they don't react to me now either. [For a long moment or two, he doesn't move, doesn't speak. She may get worried and ask something of him to make sure he even exists, but he won't respond.
And then, slowly, he comes back as quietly and gently as he had disappeared: feet, torso, arms, his head. He's left squeezing and unfurling his hands, testing them. Nothing feels different on his end.] The story...?
About disappearing.
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But people were... disappearing entirely, weren't they? Not... coming back?
[ After a short pause, she tentatively holds the frame out to him again. ]
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[He's not sure. Not without more story, not without knowing the history of the town and what happened with the two men, the hen.
Once he's positive he isn't going to vanish into thin air again, he reaches out to take the frame gingerly. Again, he glances over the picture of Pennyworth, and then he carefully scoops up the notebook, putting them together.]
It's... like a memory. I wonder if we're able to find the people from the story. I've been watching the forest a little. To see if anyone goes inside.
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[ Kisa's clearly still ill at ease, shifting slightly every so often to stay out of the path of chattering shades, flinching when she can't entirely avoid them all and they traipse right on through her.
This may be why she was absolutely prepared to fork a photograph over and book it back home. ]
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[Without any kind of apparent judgment, he watches her interactions when the shades of people pass by them and through them. Slowly, he stands back up, waits a second or two so he's sure there's no other disappearing acts.]
Reducing time spent outside in town could lessen effects. Are you going home?
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They... come into the house sometimes, but not as much.
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[He's unsure if he should find irony in the fact a man and a son claim the Flavo cottage at the edge of the forest with the animals. It's kind of a sick joke, but maybe more of a reminder for the boy who chose to forget.]
Where's the woman? I'll stay with you until she gets back. [Like hell he's going to hang around when Sierra is there. He already knows they'll butt heads, and he doesn't want to get into a fight with her in front of Kisa.] What kind of family resides in your house?
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Baffling!! ]
... It's an older couple. A man and a woman... but sometimes there are kids and another couple that come in. [ They seem happy, and that's great, but it still makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. ]
Are you sure... you want to stay with me?
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Realistically, he's a very different apple from a very different tree, and the only thing which bothers him about "ghosts" are the fact they sometimes can't be punched or kicked.
Without answer, he tucks the notebook and the framed picture of Alfred under his arm and moves by her for maybe a yard before stopping to glance back.] What? Come on.
If I hadn't planned to stay, I wouldn't have wasted my time saying I would. [Which is about the only thing she'll get in terms of "yeah, I'll stay."] Girls are always scaredy-cats anyway... [Please smash him in the back of his stupid head with a snowball.]
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That's not true, I just--!
[ Well. That quiet protest is ending in a yelp as her feet suddenly leave the ground-- and despite her best efforts to return to said ground, it only makes her float a little higher. ]
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You just wh--
[The mischievous smirk on his face is gone almost instantly. Surprisingly, he abandons both notebook and frame again, this time of his own accord. They whomp into a pile of snow, thankfully, and he makes a mad dash across the distance between them.] Kisa! [He jumps, but all he can catch is one of her hands in both of his own.
There's nothing to anchor himself to either; all he can do is drop his hips and his weight and try to keep the two of them ground.] Hold... on...!
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And Kisa would feel bad about that, and will likely feel bad about it later, but for now, she's a little more focused on not floating away. Which involves a death-grip on Damian's hand while she fumbles to catch hold of his arm with her free hand. ]
I'm trying...!
[ She's got about as much control as a kite, unfortunately. At least she's not floating any higher, but she's having a hard time getting back to the actual ground. ]
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[This damn town. He hates it ninety percent of the time. Always pulling stunts like this; worse, ice palaces, talking furniture, talking birds, an island of sirens. Give them a break!] Just--keep holding on! Don't let go. [Luckily, he doesn't seem to be lifting himself.
There isn't any gravitational force behind her rising, only a kind of floating, and if he can at least hold onto her, they should be okay. If not--well, no one ever said he didn't have the stupid bat grapple hidden away on himself.]
Pray we're not--stuck here--like this--for hours.
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[ Well, the good news is that her body decides it's time to land.
The bad news is that her body decides it's time to land abruptly, so she's dropping the remaining feet like a stone. ]
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She wouldn't necessarily be heavier than she is now as a tiger, but tiger changing is just not what they need right now.] Nng.
Are you--alright?
[This'll be embarrassing maybe in a minute. Give it time.]
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