vapor trail

                                      Reaching behind himself to scratch              the back of his head, the ghost let out a sigh. “So?              it’s not like he needs all those damn vases anyway.”              Jonah seemed to ignore the second smack to the              arm proceeding to knock over a box full of only god              knows what. “–oh, my. things are just falling over all              over the place.” Again, another box was kicked over.              Things from Christmas decor to miscellaneous were              scattering about the floor. “it ain’t gonna kill him to              clean it up. And, so what if this shit was expensive?”              A pause.                 – “he’s alive. he can make more                          money to replace it.”

                                       The more Jonah were to move around,             the more things he was going to knock off. This brought             Penelope giving a disapproving look to her ghostly companion;             and it’s not like her smacking him and nagging at him was going             to make any changes to his behavior. She grunted to herself             before bringing herself close to her, linking both her hands             around his arm and pulled him out of the room. “Yeah but he’s             gonna think this house is haunted. Besides, it’s mean and rude --             whatever you’re doing.”                                    

                                             Like usual, the smack ( d i d n’ t )                 hurt one bit. “Sounds like you don’t even know what                 you are, pineapples.” The more reaction she gave to                 being called out of her name, the more he was going                 to do it. That’s just how Jonah worked. He     sought                 thrill in other people’s annoyance. However, on a dif-                 ferent note. He noticed someone        was moving in.                 “Gettin’ company?” Jonah inquires    while knocking                 over a vase or two. O o p s.

                                      Please don’t tell her it won’t hurt. It             would come out as somewhat offensive as she might have             been intending to hurt him; maybe just a little. Thoughts             aside, she exhaled a sigh and made a frustrated noise from             the back of her throat, ignoring his former words only to             scream out his name as he knocked over the vases. “Jonah!             You so did that on purpose!” And this time another smack             on his arm before crouching down to the broken antiques.               “Aah -- poor guy. This looks expensive too” 

                                              Jonah literally snorted. ( literally )               Pineapples was always being a drag. He couldn’t  count               just how many times she had gotten on to him for calling               her ( p i n e a p p l e s ) instead of ( p e n e l o p e ). In his               honest opinion pineapples was far cuter than her    given               name. “– stop naggin’ me, woman.”

                                        As if it was out of reflex, she smacked              him at his arm as he accused her of nagging at him. “I’m not              nagging at you!” It came out as a whine rather and her whining              was complimented with a scowl pulled onto her expression,              once more arms brought crossed up against her chest. “My              name is Penelope. Pineapple’s a fruit and I’m a { person } -- “              An instant pause and she gasped, quickly covering her mouth              with both hands. “-- I mean a ghost!” 

                                        Well, she might not be alone currently,              -- given the few people and moving around carrying their moving              boxes -- but without Jonah time would forever feel endless.             Although for her, it already does feel that way for some time             but with Jonah, time would always feels shorter. And out of all             the things Penelope could say out of anger and frustration; as             she turned with her arms crossed and her brows furrowing at             him giving him that one angry look, Penelope replied him with             a -- “It’s Penelope! -- not -- Pineapples” 

poor sica : ( but so cute tho

"Could you maybe, not sound like you’re having fun with this? I feel like a joke right now."  He sulked in his corner upon hearing her giggle though he meant no ill will by being rude. Cain was as straightforward as it came at times, especially when he felt indignant. He gave up though, trying to see and touch her, but more so not wanting to let someone catch him miming than because it wasn’t an easy task trying to reach a mid-point between the physical and a spiritual world. Just as a sigh escaped his down turned lips, he felt it again, a cold shroud causing his hand to respond, fingers lightly twitching caught between wanting clasp them around hers yet knowing there’s nothing physical to actually hold. As it was disconcerting, in the end he didn’t reciprocate the touch, hand lax as he simply glanced up with the aid of his imagination, blinking in the direction of where he was at least 98% sure Penelope was. "Here, right? Where I’m facing?" He asked, looking straight ahead, and if he could see, perhaps there would’ve been eye contact.

                               She laughed more, letting breaths of giggles being exhaled out her parted lips. She knew it wasn't nice to laugh at him -- he looked helpless, moreso hopeless. He could hear her, sense her but his eyes weren't able to see her. She was there sitting next to him -- between them is a gap of about a foot or more separating them. But she wasn't allowed to move across that boundary; she knew she just couldn't. Her body urged her not to, and even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't. Penelope stayed at her end of the couch, laughing at the other who felt foolish for waving his arms around in the air just so he could know where the ghost was. Of course she wouldn't blame him for his funny antics -- the ghost had advantages of her own; as well as disadvantages where it would be hard for them to actually communicate                "I'm sorry, I'm sorry -- " She apologized in between titters and only after as she released his hand from hers she stopped. Penelope calmed herself from her fits of giggles and once more leaned her form against the couch. "You were just funny. And yes, you're looking ar me now ----- Well you can't see me, but at least you're facing me.  I'd say you're kinda cute. Especially when you waved your hands around" Said the ghost and again came the breathy laughters being let out. Moments after, she calmed herself. It got silent as she stopped laughing, and the silence only grew deeper as neither talked. It felt awkward as well, even for an airy entity like herself. She brought a hand scratching the side of her head. She wondered if this would be a good moment to start a casual conversation. But on what? "Umm -- what's with the couch though. Why are you putting it outside?" 

                               There were people who could and couldn't sense her presence. Most mortals couldn't -- although some were blessed with a special sixth sense that could pick up her presence though she was invisible still. Penelope wouldn't know how these things works -- she hadn't even know how she died even. Maybe perhaps -- the cause was homicidal and she was murdered. By whom? She'd been asking for such a question for so long; eversince that treacherous day. The day when she woke up a void, lost soul -- her existence empty and meaningless, yet she was trapped in an eternal space, a vacuum in between the world of the living and the dead.              Seeing how the other reacted to her simple touch, the spirit was quick to retract her hand back, pulling it to her side. She blinked, watching at the pale figure as she looked at her, careful as she did. There were instances when she was dumbfounded having known that her acquaintance would be able to see her -- moreso communicate with her. She had her grin stretched wide across her face, feeling excited with attention being fixated on her. Finally -- "Finally" She repeated, though voice as soft still. "You can -- you can see me can you? Oh God, oh God.. It's been a while oh my God!" She couldn't help but to cover her smile behind her hands, wanting to hide her excitement. She hadn't been talking to another person for a while and it flickered the joy in her and hence -- the over-enthusiastic act. "Oh gosh! Yes I am.. But no uhhh -- I'm real and I'm not... I'm a -- I'm a ghost! Depressing, I know but uh hi I'm Penelope!"

Cain heard her reassurance, hesitant still but he chose to accept it, for now. Blinking to himself he shifted; fidgeted while inching back a little more. Not because he was still afraid; he had calmed down significantly, but the whole situation was disconcerting regardless — "Penelope?" The wolf breathed her name. Sounded like an innocent enough name, as if that’s anything to judge by. Pulling himself back up he sat close to the arm rest, head turning from side to side with his lips pursed inwards. “Great, I hear dead people —” He muttered - as if to answer yes, he could hear her - while continuously searching, wondering if he looked hard enough he could see something except he couldn’t. "Alright, I believe you — Ugh, this is too weird; I’m talking to air. W-Where are you?" He swiped his arm at the space next to him on both sides. 

Two drifters, off to see the world There’s such a lot of world to see