━━ ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ blasting can’t catch me now by olivia rodrigo down main street, we’ve spotted SERENA CARLISLE sporting their golden locket around her neck. the twenty-six year old GHOST who’s been in town for a year often can be seen taking walks, practicing ballet, painting, or working as a BALLERINA DANCER at the PERFORMING ARTS CENTER. people say they display sweet and passive traits, but we rather trust their vibes: the white lady, wilted rose petals, pointe shoes bashing against wood flooring, and tulle ballet skirts. also, we’ve heard they love ballet ! aren’t they fascinating ?
NAME: serena aurore carlisle
AGE: twenty - six
DATE OF BIRTH: march 14
GENDER / PRONOUNS: cis female, she / her
SEXUALITY: bisexual, closeted (?)
OCCUPATION: ballerina at the performing arts center
FEARS: surface level, serena dislikes the sight of blood.
QUIRKS: twirling her rings around her fingers when she’s nervous; holding her hands behind her back; standing in first ballet position; chewing the inside of her cheeks.
RELATIONSHIPS: none that she can remember prior to coming to portum.
TROPES: the perfectionist, the white lady, death by beauty, ballet is serious business, fragile flower, tragic keepsake, wilted rose, the phantom of the opera.
BIOGRAPHY. ━━━━ [ PART TWO ] *
BUT YOU CAN'T CATCH ME NOW .
serena doesn't remember what brought her to portum, or how she arrived. it took a few days for her to admit the obvious . . . that she wasn't alive anymore. she doesn't even remember who the person in her golden locket is. but something about the little town that found her feels safer than the place she was before . . . wherever that was.
little bits eventually came back to her, like her name, age, birthday . . . the little facts a person would repeat over the years. she found a community in portum, and she's able to recall other things, like her passions. serena could dance as if there'd never been a lapse in her movements, so she quickly found a secondary home at the performing arts center.
serena doesn't have much, and doesn't want for much, either. sometimes, she wasn't sure she wanted to know how she died. no, even without her memories, serena knew how she died.
stabbed, and quite a few times.
the wounds don't look so bad nowadays. she doesn't let the cuts drip.
what happened? she wondered often if the person in her locket missed her. but she liked portum, so she wasn't in a hurry to find out.
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" hey. " the smile on her face is fixed, more for serena's benefit than her own, though it probably does little to make the other girl feel better. as mae sits down, her gaze tracks the... shifting? of serena's legs. there one minute, gone the next. toeing off her sandals, mae slips her own feet into the water. " what's going on, sere? "
she knows mae can see the way whatever is happening is affecting serena. there's more . . . it feels strange, unearthly . . . more than usual. ❛ everything . . . i don't know what to do , mae . . . i can barely feel the water. ❜ she reaches out and tries to touch the other girl's hand, but instead, she phases through her skin. ❛ see? . . . how are you doing with . . . everything? ❜
ender had felt lost for weeks. she had felt her mind slipping away and now, it seemed, her body was coming along behind it — she stared down at the tips of her fingers, translucent at the ends, and sighed softly to herself as she took the familiar walk down to neon ink. how could she pierce with disappearing fingers ? a walk along the shoreline might help snap her out of it, she thought. the ghost kicked her foot against the sand, and huffed again when she noticed the tiny dunes weren’t shifting beneath her weight.
ender was nothing. ender was nowhere. she had half a mind to turn back to her and aeri’s apartment and weep violently into her pillow. just as she considered it, she hesitated and locked eyes with serena — a mutual understanding and, more importantly, an acknowledgement that she could see ender standing there by the dock. “you can see me.” it wasn’t a question. it was a breathy, relieved observation.
serena nods once more, this time more intentionally as she makes eye contact with ender. pretty, round brown eyes, and long lashes. she can sense that the other is a ghost, the same way that maybe a werewolf would smell a werewolf. there's something about being half on this plane, half on another ; but with another ghost, she didn't struggle with all the other things that she did with other supernaturals.
maybe it's because they're both halves, but on the same parallel dance . . . ❛ yes, ❜ serena says after a moment. ❛ i'm a . . . i'm also a ghost. ❜ every time she thinks she has come to terms with it . . .
Nora was out enjoying the weather, trying to see if she could get a simple reflex from her fingertips but nothing was happening. When it did, it wasn't what she wanted. She couldn't levitate; she couldn't manipulate the very magic she wanted. Coming up to a dock, she seen someone sitting at the edge of it. Walking slowly towards the end, she gave the girl a small smile when she stood next to her.
no. yes. every flash in and out makes her wonder if that's the last time she'll surface. ❛ it's . . . the same as everyone in town, ❜ serena says after a moment. ❛ everyone's powers are uncontrollable . . . ❜ and anything could happen to anyone at any moment!! it's enough to make her anxiety curl up like a hot brick in the pit of her stomach.
"I'm guessing you and I would have more of a story to tell than any of these books, hmm?" He teased, turning the book over in his hands and trading it for his cup of coffee. A lot of horror involved ghosts and demons as far as Zamir could tell. They were the monsters. He just wondered at the accuracy of these types of novels. They couldn't be terribly accurate, Zamir reasoned. They were written by humans, after all.
"And you?" They gestured to her own pile. "It certainly doesn't look like you've collected anything that might keep you up at night?" Judging by some of the more flowery covers that she had collected, her reading seemed to be a tad more... pleasant. That seemed to be fitting for someone like Serena. But he wasn't supposed to judge books by their covers.
she wouldn't be able to tell you her own story, but she imagines zamir's is plenty interesting . . . not that any of them run the risk of being boring. ❛ probably, ❜ serena says, taking a seat near him. she leans over to look at the book, then gives him a little smile.
❛ ah . . . horror is fine every now and then. ❜ but serena prefers an escapism she might enjoy. ❛ i wanted to read a few of the classics . . . i feel like it's important to dissect them. and a little poetry . . . it's nice for the mind. ❜ she wouldn't mind reading books about ballet either, but it's important to branch out every now and then.
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murky water laps at her toes as serena sits on the edge of one the docks. the water is getting warmer now, but she isn't sure if she'd like to go swimming. she can barely feel the wetness of her skin, and she watches as her legs fade in and out of existence. a tear falls over her cheek . . . what if she never gets to find out who she was? did someone care about her, and is wondering where she is right now?
footsteps creaking on the wood near her makes serena's head snap up, and she wipes at her eyes. all of her words seem caught in her throat, so she just gives a little nod.
Always so in sync with her powers, earlier that morning she’d managed to turn a bird into stone, the featherly animal falling flat on her front yard and almost hitting her windshield. What the fuck was going on? Maybe if she hadn’t burned her bridges, she could have called any ex of hers that were witches and ask if they had the slightest clue of what was going on, but no. Not Divya Irmady.
So, she went out for a run to try and get her mind off things, which was better than spending her days off stuffing her face with alcohol. Halfway through her usual run trail, she caught a glance at something that looked like Serena. It twinkled like a star, as if the ghost was fading away and coming back into view.
“You too?” The gorgon asked as she slowed down her pace until coming to a full stop. “The fuck is going on? You’re like–Casper in that first movie.”
it seems divya and serena had had the same idea ; go for a run, a walk, anything to try and not think about what's happening to everyone. but serena feels odd, even for the normal weirdness of being a ghost.
she sighs when she sees divya, relieved but sad. clearly, whatever was happening was happening to her too.
❛ i don't understand it . . . ❜ is something taking over the town? are they even safe ? she doesn't want to make anyone else panic, but her mind fears the worst. ❛ what have you seen? are you doing alright? ❜
( ↻ ) she’s just about to tuck into her sweet treat for the day before she notices an extra one lying in the box . hayden’s not one to complain about the generosity especially considering the fact that the town’s going haywire . but it’s far more than she can finish . “ hey ! ” the gorgon calls out to the nearest person . “ did you want an extra pastry ? you’d be doing me a solid because i seriously cannot finish all of this . ”
can a ghost eat? serena knows she usually doesn't have to, but with the way things are going . . . passing by a woman at a table, serena turns ━━ only half expecting her to be talking to her. ❛ me? ❜ she looks down at the pastry, a beautiful little treat ━━ and she wonders if, when she was alive, if she liked pastries like this. ❛ um . . . sure. tha- ❜ serena is cut off by watching her hand flicker through the box. it doesn't usually do that. ❛ oh, that . . . i'm sorry, i don't know what's happening . . . ❜
Zamir had found a quiet corner in the bookshop, a small collection of six or seven books set down at his table to sift through before purchase. Though he had a certain love for film, he was an intellectual first and foremost. There was not a book he could not read cover to cover. His father had thought that they would be a writer — he had insisted on it, even. But Zamir seemed to be more concerned with understanding this world and the beings in it.
They felt little need to create worlds of their own. Zamir would leave that up to the authors of this world. "What am I reading, you ask?" the cambion looked up at the other, who had approached their table in the corner. "Horror novels, I think." He said, holding up a copy of The Exorcist. "I'm on a scary movie kick. So I thought I would try my hand at scary books. They don't seem to be very rooted in fact, do they?"
she doesn't often like to approach others, but serena remembers the few times that she's spoken to this person before . . . zamir? they were kind each time. unsurprisingly, being a ghost is . . . lonely, and she remembers each little interaction. but, perhaps, that's due to the empty space from her current lack of formative memories . . .
there are a few books in her hand ; antiques, poetry, and flowers. she sidles near zamir's table, and manages to choke out a weak, ❛ what are you reading? ❜
she nods when they repeat the question. ❛ oh. no, not really . . . they aren't usually that frightening to me . . . um, not that i read very many in that genre. ❜
" sure, i can make something for that. " while she wouldn't exactly call it a side business, it isn't uncommon for townsfolk to seek mae out, requesting herbal concoctions and spell jars for this or that. most know that they can find her in the old haunt in the evenings more often than not. " it'll be a couple days. " while the request isn't a complicated one, it will require being left in the moonlight overnight, and it's better left to simmer and gather strength before use.
the other reaches into their pocket, presumably for payment, and she waves them off with a gloved hand. " no, don't worry about paying me. this is an easy one. " sometimes she'll accept payment, usually if it's a bigger or complex project, but this won't take much on her end, and the plants needed grow close to town.
❛ thank you, ❜ serena says with a gentle smile. mae's little jars were soothing. they helped make serena's home one of the few places she could find true comfort. whether it was part of the spell or not, it gave serena a soft spot for the other girl. and though she already predicts what mae is going to say, serena still pulls her purse around to give her something in return. mae's protests are already heard, and serena playfully sighs.
❛ you never let me pay you. i feel like i owe you. ❜
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