#spectsee

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“ oh, i totally can, buddy, when i got proof and an eye witness. got any more cheese puns ? or is the rest of your material dry and aged . . . just like my stolen cheddar ? ” kaleb's surprised he's even gracing him with a response, but he's suddenly taken aback, can't help but to wink repeatedly, as if contemplating whether this was all really happening. the nerve, the audacity ; simply astounding. “ ---- you did not just call me big cheese . . . ”

         cj's grown up with enough ghost stories that the shit just doesn't bother her anymore. whether they're real, or not, doesn't really matter. she's got enough bullshit on her plate without it, and got enough skeletons in her closets. it's enough that she sees dead people behind her eyelids when she closes her eyes- a never grown up fifteen year old version of herself, her father ... -she doesn't need to go looking for it. and she most certainly doesn't need spend her time chasing after them, wondering if they're real.

         ... and what the fuck is real, anyway?

         the flashlight dylan gave her is fun every once in a while for shining directly into his eyes, watching them glow white and his irises melt into an acid, neon green. other than that, it's not really doing anything for her. with the light still flicked on, she pokes him with it, again. " hey, c'mere, lemme' see on'a your machines. i'm bored of this one, it doesn't fucking do anything. "

this is exactly why margot doesn't let any of the other girls pick their outings in a new city. being dragged along to some kind of convention was the absolute last thing that she wanted to do. the energy rattling around inside of her is far too much to be contained to one singular thing; made obvious by the fact that she has been bouncing from table to table on her own while the rest of the team gathers around some sort of sand-mixing bar. that is, until some sort of paranomal investigator sign catches her eye.

@spectsee

Are the words supposed to make him laugh? Forrest has no idea, but they do. A gross, watery laugh, that reminds him to wipe at some of the tears on his face. Really, he would prefer if he could have no body at all, just exist as a sort of plant maybe. (But then, they still have a body, just a different kind. So what does that solve?)

“Do we uh, do we just split it? I get one half and you get the other? Or do we take turns?”