Ask The Ghost Host

Oh, that is absolutely fine! There have been quite a few characters in that vein over the years. I roll with pretty much anything. Now I'll be bluntly honest-- I'm not always the best at keeping up with threads. Between chronic pain issues and work, I tend to lose track of things. I'll apologize for that up front. But you're always welcome to pop in!

"Oh, she's making her rounds. I've no doubt she'll be here eventually. It's just that our... flesh and blood friends are a bit more susceptible to the effects of dreadful weather."

"Speak for yourself, Uncle!"

"A-hem... Dorian, don't you think you should put on some pants?"

"For what? I'm down to my bones!"

"You're indecent!"

"You know, " Beau's voice whispered from the glass, "when you put out an all call to the beyond, you shouldn't be surprised when you get an answer..."

"Um, er, I'm not a doctor..." he babbled with a wince. But the poor little thing was so pitiful! He went digging through his pockets, searching for anything useful. He had a handkerchief...

"Mwack!" Waddle dropped a small bread knife at his feet. She wagged her tail feathers proudly.

The short figure is dropped to the ground unceremoniously, looking around with wide eyes. Due to the incomplete ritual, she's unable to leave. With nothing else to do, she stands up, dusts herself off, and quietly begins to explore the grounds outside. She minds where she steps, not wanting to trample any graves. That would be impolite, she thinks.

Hmm...

Madame Leota opens her eyes. A strange tingling made her brain buzz. "What is this?" she mused quietly.

Outside...

The answer came from within the mansion, drifting out of the plaster and lath, and through the wallpaper.

Otherworldly...

"It's... otherworldly? Like from another plane of existence?" It wouldn't do to ponder when there was a potential threat on the grounds. Or at least, someone else should go out and see to the threat while she did her pondering.

She turned her head to look at a board on the wall just to the left of her chair at the seance table. It was lined with bells, each with a label coordinating to a specific room. The one with Ghost Relations Department was jangled, and a coordinated bell on a board in the Ghost Relations Department, but one labeled Seance Room, tinkled in turn.

Beauregard looked up from a stack of Death Certificates. "Hrmm.." Then he reached over to a strange box contraption on his desk. It had a little horn on it, with a label reading "Spectrecom, patented by R. H. Goff," and a short row of buttons. He pressed one, and spoke into the horn. "You rang, dear?"

"Beauregard, some... thing is on the grounds, something not of this world. I'm detecting..." There was a sniff. "Brimstone."

"Do you think it's a demon?" He chuckled. "Or did Carlotta get into the old cheese again?"

"Just check it out. I'll find some demon banishing spells." There was a click.

Anyways how are you doing :3

Ghost Host: Ah, welcome to our die-lightful corner of tomblr!

Sally Slater: We're positively meltin', darlin'! It's hotter than swamp slime under a gator's--

Dorian Gracey: What my dear, dear, charmingly eloquent friend means to say is that it's a... wee bit warm, even in our shadowy domain.

Ezra: Yeah, we're thinking of hitchhiking down to some active volcanoes to cool off!

Madame Leota: My candles have all melted.