#ghostboy-291

( @ghostboy-291 would like to befriend the cloud ) ->

There are many oddities in this place. This world. It's not any sort of afterlife (he would know if he was there again), and yet this "Wonderland" has more ghosts than any other place he has ever visited. The boy has to wonder why it's called such a strange thing, but beyond that... He has other things to worry about. The warnings, mostly - things said by the scared townsfolk telling him to stay away from the White Devil. No rumors like that usually exist in full truth, and whatever or whoever the White Devil is... he is probably much better company than these people who drove him away and hate him. The eleven-year-old continues his awkward, hunched shamble alongside his friend, the little Mimikyu seeming content enough to help him search for this white mist everyone seems so afraid of. This Devil wasn't hard to find at all, if his assumption is correct. Sitting up in some tree, moonlight reflecting off of several brilliant crystal horns. He is white in every other aspect from what Allister can tell looking up at him, with the sword mentioned in some of those poems close by to boost confidence in his guess. He kneels to pick up the Mimikyu, debating whether to get the swordsman's attention or to wait for him to come down. His friend chooses for him, letting out a little series of chirps and 'kyu's to explain that answers will come easier from someone like this than someone in town. "... Mhm," he agrees. "You're... you're probably right..." Now the hard part. With a deep breath, he makes sure his mask is still on, totally obscuring his face. "I... Excuse me," he starts. "But..." How should he do this? The same way he usually does when he speaks to supposed demons. They've always turned out to be friends and they're usually just as scared as he is. "But... I um... I like your horns... Purple is... such a nice color. Um... my favorite." It's probably obvious, with how he is clad in purple from head to knee. His shoes and mask are white, of course, but his entire outfit otherwise is black and violet. It's common ground to build conversation off of, at least, if they both like purple. Anyone who gets cast out like this can surely do with having something nice said about them, and it's probably better if it seems genuine. If there's any sort of ghost or demon, Allister will be the one to befriend them. They are not bad. At worst, misguided... but usually just deeply misunderstood. A lot like himself. The living people are usually the cruel ones.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ "I like your horns." Is not a sentence the Misterican hears often, moreover ever in a place like this. A compliment to the color and a head of snow and porcelain is turning to drop jade moons down on the source of the voice. A small child of dark hair and the oldest face - no if he had to wager a guess that was just a mask. Most likely for protection but a different kind than his own provided.

If he had to wager a guess, it was to scare away any who may attempt to harm the boy, all considering the look of it. Perhaps this boy thought him the otherworldly. The boy's small friend had referred to him as 'someone like this' so that meant he was separating from anyone else the boy could have met in the town just a ways down the road.

Perhaps he heard the rumors then? Perhaps the boy thought him a demon... If so then why would he approach. He couldn't say he wasn't curious.

So the swordsman is swinging his legs around so they can hang off the branch he's perched upon and his hands can come down to rest on it at his sides.

"That's quite kind of you, young one." He begins as jade continues peer down at the youth before him. "Do you require something? Are you lost? That's quite the mask you have. Marvelous construction. Do you wear it for a reason?"

Still the man of snow does not descend from his perch but instead remains merely looking down from his place within the branches and the moonlight casting from over his shoulders.

( @ghostboy-291 is having a bit of trouble. )

He'd wanted to find a library. And... he found one, alright, but definitely not the one he'd been looking for. He can't even read the books here very well, and he's thankful that he hadn't worn his typical clothes today because everyone in this library is dressed totally differently. Pale hands pull his coat tighter around his shoulders as he tries to hide amongst the many shelves, crouched in a back corner. There are too many people here. He doesn't like it at all. Maybe he can just wait for everyone to leave, and then he can ask for his friends to help him get back to the correct plane or realm. This isn't the first time he's come to the wrong place. It's fine. He can get home. He's sure of it. They need to stay hidden for now, though. All of them, Allister included. Deep breaths are shakily pulled in through his mask, though when he lays eyes on two people who have turned and found his spot, his composure falls entirely apart. He can't even run and there's nowhere to run. Not with a boy who looks taller and much stronger than him and a second person in a suit of armor who's big enough to cast a shadow over the whole aisle. He can't get past them. As long as they don't see his face and the tears that have started to sting at his eyes, he'll be okay... hopefully. "... I... I was just... going to leave," he stammers out. "Can... Can I get by? I- I'm lost and I should... try to find my way back... um... before it gets too late in the day."

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ This little fucker looks like he's about to cry. The elder of the alchemist pair frowns when he looks at him and he doesn't know how this kid got his ass lost in here but he did. The mask is a little fucked up but it's kinda badass looking in all honesty. Yeah actually, the more he looks at it - the more he likes it and he thinks it's pretty fucking sick.

So the blond approaches and crouches down to the hiding boy's level and tries to give him a smile. He's just a kid, so there's not really a reason to be a dick to him. He's already said he's lost.

He has no clue how he got here. Not really - probably another accidental slip into some realm or... something. But this place isn't the ghost realm. It's a school.

Not a school an eleven-year-old should be attending, judging by how much taller the students here seem to be...

Either way, he doesn't want to talk to them. He wants to hide. He wants to find some quiet spot to take a nap and then get on his way back home.

He ends up waiting inside a janitor closet for the school day to end, too scared of being found to sleep. Once the sound of students in the halls dies down, he shuffles down the hall. There's got to be an empty room somewhere around here, right?

The door he chooses at random to push open reveals the smell of roses and bright lights - definitely not empty.

It's too late to run, isn't it? He'll try anyway. His back turns before whoever is in this room can greet him. He breaks into the best sprint he can with tears already pricking at the edges of glowing violet eyes.

꧁⁕༻♕༺⁕꧂ The Ouran Host Club was opened for business.  A dull hum from the chattering of patrons and hosts alike filled the once abandoned third music room. The bright lights did little to dilute the radiance of the King of Hosts. 

Tamaki was holding court again. A long leg crossed over the other as Tamaki leaned back comfortably on the couch. His skills as a host were barely challenged as he entertained two beautiful guests who sat on either side of him.

“Tamaki, why are your eyes so pretty?” One of his guests asked with her hands clasped together; her tone bordered on awestruck. It didn’t take long for Tamaki to turn his attention to her: he gently grabbed her chin and tilted her head up so their eyes could meet. 

“Why, to be able to capture your attention, my darling.  Like a moth to a flame, I hope to draw you ever closer.  Let my gaze spark that flame of desire inside you, my princess.  Then I shall never remember the loneliness that comes from not being by your side.”

“Oh, Tamaki…” Her wobbling body suggested she was close to fainting right there in his arms. Giving the girl a chance to recover, Tamaki turned his attention to his second guest.  However, something else piqued his interest.  By now, Tamaki was an expert when it came down to hearing when someone entered his host club.  It was paramount that he knew when, or if, he needed to greet a familiar guest, or welcome a new face. 

Something peered inside.  Tamaki froze and his face grew pale. “Whaugh…Whoa!! What is that?!”  He cried out and his guest jumped, slightly taken aback by his sudden outburst. “Tamaki...?! What do you mea—?”

Tamaki shot to his feet and rushed to the front doors of the host club.  He peered down the hall and caught a glimpse of whatever it was. 

“Tamaki, it looks as though you’ve seen a ghost.”  He heard his best friend speak up and the voice of the Shadow King startled Tamaki away from his racing thoughts.  No doubt Kyoya had come over to remind Tamaki about the rules and etiquette of the host club—the very rules the blond created when they first started the host club.  The Frenchman grabbed his friend’s shoulders and fixed Kyoya with a wild stare. 

“Kyoya, I saw something.”  He gulped.  Maybe it was a kid who forgot that Halloween was a couple of weeks ago.  Maybe…but the blond could have sworn he saw glowing eyes.  That wasn’t normal! “I am sure you’re just seeing things.” Kyoya pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose; against his better judgement, he decided to give his friend the benefit of the doubt. “Go.  If you want to go chasing figments of your imagination, then who am I to stop you?” 

What?! Tamaki bristled before nervously peering down the hall.  Why was he the only one who noticed? While Tamaki knew he saw something, perhaps it wasn’t a ghost after all. But if it was a kid, and if they were lost, Tamaki felt obligated to help. The blond followed in the direction of the boy, and decided to give chase. “Hey!!! Wait!! I—I won’t hurt you! I want to help!”