Invisible and A Little Underdressed

[Marcelina H. de León]

Maybe it had all been a strange dream. A long summer ago... well, maybe not that long ago. It had been last summer, but it felt like eons ago. An average trip to the music shop had led to a spectacular, otherworldly experience. Sort of. Marcelina wasn't entirely sure if it had happened anymore. She had made friends with Gotthard, a ghost. More than that, she had heard him sing a heart-wrenchingly beautiful song. At least, she thought she had? She had invited the ghostly spirit to visit her again. He never had. And as time had gone on, she started to doubt her experience. It was one hell of a hallucination for Marcelina to have had... but what else could it be? She wasn't sure anymore. She had moved on after wondering for the first couple months. These days, it was just a passing thought from time to time.

Today it had not passed her mind once. Well... not quite once. She had thought about it briefly when she had listened to that particular CD in the morning. Then it was into her usual routine. A decent jog then two hours swordplay. Then a long, hot shower and a huge lunch. Sometimes on her afternoons she would go into the city, but she decided against it today. She decided to lounge in her room at home. She had decided to forgo the majority of her clothes as Sec and Sal were gone for whatever reason. She wore her black shorts, her tanned legs bare down to her painted toes. (Yes, painted. Just because she was an old-fashioned, fantasized pirate didn't mean she didn't love her bright blue toenails.) She had her bra covering the naughty bits on top, as was decent, she supposed. Her hair was still damp, plaited in a long braid and then coiled around her head in a bun. The Rocky Road to Dublin played over her stereo as she tapped her feet. One arm was tucked under her head as she lie on her bed, listening and musing.

[Gotthard]

Most often when something was lost, the most practical solution was to go back to where you last saw whatever it was and retrace your steps. The problem with this, Gotthard admitted, was that all the places he would have gone to retrace his intangible steps were gone now, obliterated and now completely changed. South had been wiped off the face of the earth, and with it any clues to what had happened to him and the city as a whole. Gotthard didnt' want to leave Hikaru alone, but it was only for a few days he'd told the healer. Gotti needed to think and look around, and see if there might have been anything left, anything at all, that could help him put it all back together.

What had been all of South City was now a lake, topped off with one decently-sized island, a few plush hotels, and an over-compensating waterpark. The new South was all around it in what had, years ago, been fields and open land and smaller suburban areas waiting to happen. That... wasn't helpful. Gotthard had come back to South for a few days though, and now that he had a new raison d'être, the incorpreal composer would put forth an effort to regain what was lost or find out more definitively what had and would become of him.

Gotti made his way through the lake, neither floating nor walking nor swimming; simply existing and manifesting through what had been his home. Thoughtlessly, he moved from the gleaming water's surface to the bottom of the man-made lake, looking closely at the stones andthings that littered the floor. If he remembered right, his whole life had been on the southwest end of town. If only he'd had an old city map! He could see where Todd's house had been and from there...? Gotti sighed in frustration, deep below the water as he approached an island, unsure now of where he was or had been.

The island, like the rest of the lake, was also man-made, heavy slabs and dirt packed down and piled to give it a solid base that rose up out of the water, only to be covered by lush greenery. It was quite nice, and from what he understood, off limits to tourists and the general populace. Gotthard rose up, making his way through effortlessly. It was South's Pirate island. Really.. of all the things... South has a freaking team of pirates. Lunglessly he huffed in the brush, pausing only as he started to walk through a house unintentionally and heard... music. Familiar music. It was that Creig music he'd heard at the music shop before he'd left South some months ago... He'd met a pirate, that was right! He looked around, debating leaving and torn between calling out and not, and for now, opted to just look around. The music was coming from upstairs, so maybe that pirate girl was home and... half naked

Unable to help himself, Gotthard let out a noise that was hardly dignified or manly, forcing himself to turn away abruptly. "Excuse me!" He couldhave just as easily said nothing, pretended to see nothing, and silently excuse himself, but dead or not he still saw himself as a human and a gentleman and he'd unintentionally walked in on a young woman in a state of undress. Dammit.

[Marcelina H. de León]

Marcelina sat up sharply in her bed as she heard some kind of... noise. She couldn't quite place it, but it was definitely out of place in the house. "Excuse me!" That noise she recognized. It was a voice. And it was IN HER ROOM. She let out an unruly (and decidedly unpiratical) shriek. Her indecency hadn't yet entered into the equation for her, so she neglected to dive under any covers. Instead her legs crushed up and she locked her arms under her knees. Her eyes were wide as she scanned the room looking for the source of the voice. ...There was none.

A chill slipped down her spine much as it had earlier today and on other rare occasions. Her eyes narrowed considerably as she once again scanned the room. Still nothing. Then again, there had been nothing in the music store that day, except for a melodious voice. She swore under her breath in Esparian, disgusted that she was showing such fear to a ghost. Was it the same ghost from the store or another? Only one way to find out. She kept her arms wrapped around her knees, but she no longer appeared or acted frightened as she spoke. “All right, spirit. Out with it. Do I know you or not?”

[Gotthard]

The pirate Gotti had met some time ago was sitting there, knees to her chest, and... mildly underdressed. Gotti was turned around, but that hardly mattered- she couldn't see him. Gotthard debated simply excusing himself and leaving the woman alone to enjoy her music, but he'd already invaded her privacy and disturbed her, and she had been the only human around that he might be able to get a little help from... if she didnt' run off to fetch an old priest and a young priest.

Still turned away, Gotthard invisibly fidgeted. "We've... met," he offered up carefully. "The music you're listening to... I was there when you bought it. I sang for you. You were my first audience in a long time." Rude. Rude rude rude [i]rude![i] He was in a lady's room without being invited and now asking for her help without reintroducing himself... Gah, his mother would be so ashamed!

"I'm very sorry to intrde, I can leave if you like... I was in the area and lookng for something is all." Toby's house, his body, a sign... anything would do.

[Marcelina H. de León]

"We've... met." Marcelina allowed a triumphant “AH HA” to roll through her mind. Perhaps she wasn't quite as mad as she thought she was. She had met a ghost! And the ghost was in her room. ...Maybe she was mad. Marcelina shrugged off the thought, decreeing that a pirate of such good quality as herself could not be tampered down by anything as silly as madness.

"I'm very sorry to intrude, I can leave if you like... I was in the area and looking for something is all." Marcelina clicked her tongue. The name of her spirit friend had escaped her at the moment. She knew the first letter, though, so that would have to do. “It is no intrusion, Senor G. A little more warning, would have been preferred, however.” She gradually realized that she was still curled up and underneath it, she was half-dressed. Oops. Perhaps that had been the reason for the spirit's strange noise? She reached down to the pile of clean clothes at the end of her bed and dragged up a billowy shirt. She tugged it over her head, doing a couple of the ties in the front so she was entirely more decent. “What were you looking for, if you don't mind me asking?”

[Gotthard]

Still resisting the urge to simply vanish and excuse himself, Gotthard remained turned around, not looking at the young woman, if onyl for his own modesty's sake since Marcelina couldn't see him. [/i]"It is no intrusion, Senor G. A little more warning, would have been preferred, however.”[/i] Warning? It wasn't like he could really use the phone or knock on the door. A quiet, embarrassed apology was murmured just loudly enough to hang on the air of the bedroom. He was speaking louder than he had at the shop, but in the shop were people to overhear and freak out. This was a bit safer, and so far Marcelina wasn't the freaking out sort. “What were you looking for, if you don't mind me asking?”

Gotthard braced himself to peek around his shoulder, and was audibly relieved to see that Marcelina was much more dressed than she was a moment or two ago. But that was a good question. What was he even looking for. Turned around completely to face her, Gotti came slightly closer. "It's Gotthard, and... I'm looking for my home." Right, because that made total sense. He sighed slightly. "Where Crater Lake is now is where South City was. And somewhere in this area is where my friends and family lived. But even under the water everything's gone. I thought, maybe.... I could ask for your assistance?" He was really looking for his body, but to find the body he needed to find Toby's house and any remnants of it. To say it was a needle in a haystack was an understatement; this was more like searching for a needle while blindfolded in a vast field of haystacks out in the country without knowing if he was even in the right field at all.

[Marcelina H. de León]

"It's Gotthard, and... I'm looking for my home." Hm. Apparently the ghost had caught her little mix-up regarding his name. Sneaky as well as invisible. Absolutely ridiculous. But at least she knew she was on the right track in terms of name with the “G.” She stood up from her bed, stretching her arms above her head for a few beats before letting her arms hang down, so her fingers could touch her toes. She spoke between her legs as she continued her stretch. “Where, exactly?”

"Where Crater Lake is now is where South City was. And somewhere in this area is where my friends and family lived. But even under the water everything's gone. I thought, maybe.... I could ask for your assistance?” Marcelina rose from her stretch, looking to Gotthard's direction. Man, she really wished he was at least semi-visible. It would make these conversations a lot easier. Luckily, no one else was in the house at the moment to assume she had gone barking mad. “I can certainly try, Gotthard. Perhaps we should best start with a map!” A stroke of genius overtaking her, Marcelina burst from her room, barefeet slapping against the floor as she ran down the hall. She came to the balcony overlooking the living room and vaulted herself over the railing. She curled up and tumbled as she hit the ground, rising back up without stopping. She was heading for the map room; a necessary room for all pirate abodes. Opening the door, she peered into the messy room. It was filled with a variety of different maps, some on paper and others on a computer. In the center of the room was a large table to lay out the paper maps. “Now then, we must figure out where to start.” She could only assume Gotthard did/would follow.

[Gotthard]

A map. It was good to know that the pirate had a similar line of thinking, even if Gotthard hadn't come outright nad just said that's what he was looking for. It was greatly appreciated since it cut down some of the awkwardness on his part. He had looked online for a map of South when he'd left home, but all the maps of South that he'd found were very general and didn't show the old streets. Perhaps this pirate had one. Pirates were typically resourceful like that, right? Marcelina burst from her bed and bounded down the stairs with the spring and enthusiasm of Mozart's appegios. As she vanished, Gotthard lingered, glancing first out the window to the lake, hoping silently that anyone that might have been listening in the universe would give him a hand, even if just a little one. Someone loved him again. He'd been given a second chance in his afterlife, and now he had to find clues in order to make the chance count.

Marcelina had left, and Gotthard thought about it. He only used the stairs because he still thought like a living person. He knew he didn't have to take them, or use doors. Laws of physics need not apply. Gotthard felt for a moment. Marcelina's energy was there- he could sense her. It was how he'd felt out the old lady whose air conditioning had stopped in the heat. Marcelina was... more or less below him, and a bit to the left. Down, he thought. He couldn't visualize the room itself, be he allowed his own energy to follow hers, and sure enough, Gotti felt himself sink a bit, shifting through solid masses until almost suddenly he was there, at Marcelina's side. That... was pretty cool, actually. And he had no earthly idea how he did that. No matter. The room was full of maps, like an archive at the library, and quite impressive. “Now then, we must figure out where to start.”

Gotti looked to the table covered in paper maps, musing in thought. "The most accurate way to start really would be... a street map of South. If you have something like that." Gotti remembered the streets he lived on, and the one Todd had moved to, and were they still there he could have walked the streets blindfolded and found his way home. Home... How many times had he dreamed of just one day walking those streets again, running up the steps to their large condo, and throwing open the doors. He wouldn't bother to take off his shoes, or care about the look the housekeeper might have given him. Gotthard would have run in and scooped Kessie into his arms and simply hold the little girl. How many times had he gone quiet at dinner with Hiku because he was lost in memories, his heart torn between how things were now and how they had been? He could never go back to how they had been. They were all gone. Kessie, Melinde, Todd... All that remained was Gotthard. For a brief moment he wondered if his searching would result in anything, but the thought was quickly pushed aside. Hiku had him now; Hiku loved him now. And so Gotthard would do whatever it took to find a way back to him. "My house is less important, since I was last at my friend's house, and he lived around here...somewhere. Maybe if I find out where the house was there might be some clue as to what happened to the city, and me."

[Marcelina H. de León]

"The most accurate way to start really would be... a street map of South. If you have something like that." Marcelina resisted the urge to say “duh” as she would've said to anyone else. But she knew that Gotthard was just trying to help and this was rather important to him. She headed over to a shelf. She that she could've gone online and still found a map of old South City, but it would've been more complicated. She would've had an invisible man standing over going “a little to the left.” Ridiculous. Somewhere in this room was a large street map. And she would find it!  

"My house is less important, since I was last at my friend's house, and he lived around here...somewhere. Maybe if I find out where the house was there might be some clue as to what happened to the city, and me.” As Gotthard talked, Marcelina was digging through a second shelf. She was reading tags on the sides of the map, tossing unuseful ones to the floor. She would worry about cleaning the room up later. She released a small shriek after another few minutes, pulling out a large folded map. She took it to the table and stuck in the middle. She began to unfold the map slowly, watching it grow larger and larger until it covered almost the entire table. “This will do, I think.” The map was very plan, literally just the street layouts of old South City. It was void of landmarks and important buildings. “Find the street name and call it out to me when you find it. I've got to find the next map.” Marcelina had an idea beginning to form on how to find what Gotthard needed. She just had to hope she could find the other map just as easily.

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