#n'theya

Their first impression: “…What is that thing in the bag. Why is it a voidsent. Why the hell does Clover have a voidsent in her bag.”

Their current impression: “I think she’s finally starting to grow up a little, or at least become more self aware, and I for one am relieved. Otherwise, she’s still a child who has a lot of identity issues to work out.”

What they like the most about your muse: “I kind of appreciate her new attitude in some ways. Not all aspects of it, but at least the fact that she’s wanting to step up and become self sufficient and independent and learn. I have faith in her for the upcoming future.”

What they dislike the most about your muse: “Well, she’s still naive and immature, still not entirely in tune with all aspects of reality. It’s a bit tedious to explain it all to her, but at least she’s been listening to me now.”

What your muse is for them ( Friend, lover, rival ecc.): “I suppose ‘niece’ would fit the description.”

A general opinion of their relationship: “I’ve kept it at arms length until now, but now I have reason to be more involved, to teach her things that Clover cannot. And honestly? I think I quite look forward to it.”

If applicable, something they wish to reveal: “If I can be entirely honest here, the fact she’s managed to truly convince me she isn’t a monster should be considered quite the achievement for herself.”

“…Is that you, N’theya?” He questions. Then again, did she ever say ‘twas’? “Well, good for you. I hope you plan on buying more.”

Oh boy, Esredes thinks to himself. “Hello there little girl… You sure you want a scary story? I don’t want to keep you up past your bedtime…” That, and Clover would not be happy. He didn’t want to disappoint the adult child by scaring the child child. He lets out a sigh. “All right, I’ll give you something scary.” But not really. He was going to keep it simple and light.

“This is a story about, uh… a ghost. Yes, once a ghost lived alone in his big empty mansion. He was a lonely ghost, you see. None of his friends had died to come and join him in the mansion. He was just all alone, by himself, with nobody to enjoy this mansion with.

That is until one day, he had his first visitor. A frail and sickly old lady had gotten herself lost, you see, and the mansion looked quite hospitable in relation to the cold outside. So she knocked on the door, asking for someone to let her in.

The lonely ghost, of course, was both surprised and excited. A visitor? Who had finally come to see him? So he was quick to use his ghostly powers to open the door for her. Now the old lady wondered then why the door opened on its own, but she didn’t question it, as she was too exhausted at this point. So she walked in, and asked where the bedroom was. The ghost closed the door behind her, and then floated over to the rather large bedroom and opened that one too. Grateful, the lady passed out on the fancy large bed it had to offer.

While she was asleep, the ghost pondered over his new visitor. He went to the kitchen and fixed her some tea, and a little snack of his own cooking for when she woke up the next morning. Who is this nice person who made me breakfast? The lady wondered to herself as she ate it. She hadn’t yet even seen who it was that lived here.

But he was watching her, floating near the ceiling, invisible to the eye. He waited patiently until she had finished before he spoke to her. “I made it myself. Did you like it?”

The lady would’ve been startled to hear a voice coming from nowhere, but he had been clever enough to speak softly enough that she was not frightened. “Why, yes, it’s a lovely little meal. You’re such a talented cook,” she responds. The ghost smiled at the compliment. He liked this old lady a lot.

She was too sick to go home, so she stayed for a while. They had many conversations, about life, about each other, or about obscure little things like sewing or favorite colors. But the woman was getting sicker. Eventually, one day she could no longer speak to him. She could only lie in bed and close her eyes. The ghost stood by, checking on her frequently, putting food for her that she did not get up to eat, until finally, he came in and there was another ghost, of a much younger lady, floating above the bed and smiling at him.

And thus, the ghost was no longer alone in his mansion. He had a friend. And he was happy.”

Campfire Storytime with Esrey