No one had told her that once you died you could still feel the cold. That once you left your body all you felt was that blistering frost, as if you were slowly breaking into pieces and unable to fall out of consciousness. You didn’t have a body to protect you, to keep you sane and slowly, slowly it was going to drive you crazy.
It was no wonder that ghosts often seemed crazed with grief, as if they had nothing to live for. After a day of this cold, after a month… it was a miracle if you still retained your sanity.
Some might see it as a gift to remain sane, some might see it as some force, that you were better than the simple ghosts, than the others. That you were made for better things.
If you were made for better things, why were you still a ghost? Most of all, why were you not alive, living among the humans…
And for once more in your life, able to turn on the heat in such a way you never felt the cold again?
She didn’t believe any of that bull. In her mind, the ones who went crazy were the lucky ones.
Because try as she might, she couldn’t.
She had to live with the cold.
Pardon the pun.
Name: Augusta Biryani
Age: Fathomless
Gender: Female
Appearance: Ghostlike, you might say that she’s colorless, transparent. It’s like trying to look at your own reflection through a window—what do you see? Tall voluptuous to a point, she’s incredibly attractive with long straight hair and the tilted eyes of a feline. Dressed often in provocative clothes that show flesh like it’s art and food rather than a simple body, she’s almost always decorated in swathes of material that seem to be too ludicrous to exist in real life.
In color, she’s got dark skin in a dusky, golden hue, bright electric peacock blue eyes and black brown hair that shines with a slight blue touch when it hints the sun just right. Her clothing is just as colorful, shades of blue and red that seem too bright for human senses.
Personality: Sulky, moody, prideful, selfish and arrogant, she’s an attention seeker who knows what she wants—and what she wants is to be human and to stop feeling the blasted cold. She’s jaded, a bit cruel and has a weird sense of humour. But what do you expect? She’s been alive for three decades as a ghost. You’re bound to develop a weird one.
Gifts: She’s a ghost. While most people can’t see her, most people can hear her. She’s the kind of ghost that whispers naughty suggestions into your ears and laughs as you make a fool out of yourself. A bit mean, and no doubt a bit cruel, she has fun the only way she knows how to—by watching humans humiliate themselves in front of each other. She’s got your usual gifts, able to wear anything, appear out of nowhere and walk through walls.
***
I was never the kind to ask for adventure. As a child, I wanted the complete opposite. Peace, solitude and maybe a little bit of contentment was my joy in life. I loved nothing better than to finish a piece of work and feel satisfied.
But all that flew out the window when a certain lady landed on my lap, dressed in nothing but scarlet handkerchiefs and proclaimed that she was a ghost, and she was going to stick around, for a little bit.
I should have known that the gods had a weird sense of humor.
No one else can see her—or at least, very few people can. I’m one of the few, but I don’t think that’s the only reason she chose me. See, I know things. In my spare time I do a lot of reading, and I have come across books speaking of ghosts like her.
No, not the flesh revealing kind. I think I saw that under the section of succubus.
But I mean, the whole disappearing and snapping your fingers kind.
She stays, believing that one day I’ll be able to help her figure things out. Firstly, I’m trying to figure out how to have her visible to other people. It’ll make her life easier I think, because then at least she’s not stuck with just one man as her only audience.
Besides, libraries rarely let in people that they think are crazy, and I think talking to yourself is a pretty crazy thing. So it’ll be a big bonus to be as well.
Otherwise… she talks about this cold, which has me absolutely fascinated.
I didn’t know ghosts could feel the cold.
Name: Cotade Rum
Age: Young Adult
Gender: Male
Appearance: A bit scruffy, he’s usually dressed in long and baggy clothing that hides most of his physical appearances. Hmm… maybe it’s because he’s had that damn ghost flaunting herself so often. It’s bound to have a negative mental impact. Tall, skinny but in a wiry, weirdly strong looking way, his skin is pale, his hair long and black and hanging around his ears and his neck. His got peculiar eyes though, amazing gold brown eyes that Augusta calls Tiger eyes. That’s usually when she laughs and says that it’s the only thing ‘tiger like’ about him.
Personality: A bit quiet. Exasperated explains everything about him, because that’s what he is. He used to be something like a scholar, and it shows in his mannerisms. The first to volunteer for the desk job and the last to leave, making sure that he’s done his job well and completely, he’s a bit of a workaholic—which is why it just burns that he happens to be unemployed. A wry sense of humor, he’s very adaptable to the worlds around him and hardly complains when he’s moved from one dimension into the next by some freak of nature.
Gifts: He’s got some odd blood in him that, while it’s too weak for him to tap into, does send him spiraling into other worlds at the wrong minute. He considers arriving anywhere naked because you were in the shower, to be a wrong thing. Other then that, he seems completely normal—well, except for the way he manages to stand Augusta. Even the ghost is counting down until the day that he refuses to see her.
***
The first time he had seen this particular… vision, he had been thirteen years old. He had been on the brink of entering that youthful phase known as the teens, and so far, he hadn’t shown any interest in the things called girls.
“Helloo~~” a voice, deep and throaty and full of promise for things to come, purred from the corner of the room.
Cotade looked up, surprised and unaware of the kinds of things the voice promised. Oh sure, he had listened to his older brothers talk—but it sounded a bit gross, really. “Yes?” he asked.
The woman, if it could be called a woman, looked up, surprised. “You can see me?”
He had never seen her before, never had seen … well, someone as curvaceous as her before about to burst out of a red dress. But he was more fascinated with the way the light seemed to stream through her. He frowned, concentrating.
“Yes.” He said, after a moment. “Yes, I can.”
She frowned, suspicious and reached out only to have her hand pass through him. “You are human.”
For a child, he was a bit jaded, and it was apparent in the way he smiled. “Do ghosts usually manage to touch each other like that?”
The woman frowned. “How did you know I was a ghost/” she demanded.
Cotade looked around the room to see that no one had noticed him talking to himself, yet. “Because.” He said pleasantly. “I know my brothers. If they could see you—they wouldn’t be standing around like that.”
And no matter what the apparition said, that was what happened.
***
“Can someone pass me the light over there?” Cotade asked, impatient. Tugging an errant lock of brown hair away from his eyes, he had one hand outstretched, waiting. “Hello? The light is falling. I can’t make out the last of the scrolls, and the librarian refuses to let me come back tomorrow.”
“If you can’t tell.” A voice drawled. “I can’t really help you right now.”
Cotade was used to having that breathy voice whisper in his ears, and he was used to pretending that he didn’t hear anything. That is, pretend like the rest of them that everything was normal.
“Hello?” he cried out again.
“Cotade, your two little buddies left an hour ago for their homes, for dinner and a bed. Now, while I of all people do want you to figure things out… do you think you could leave it off until tomorrow?” briefly, he felt something cool pass by his forehead, and he knew that this was her way of trying to smooth the frown on his face. “You look dead on your feet.”
“Har har.” He said dryly, relaxing now and turning to see the woman. He was alone—he knew this, and knew no one would carry tales about how Cotade the scholar had gone crazy. He watched her. “Where have you been all day? I expected you to help me.”
“By reading?” she scoffed, and sauntered closer.
Dressed in a peacock blue skirt that left nothing completely hidden and a blue gauzy veil as a top, she was something that would appear in the books Cotade’s nephews kept hidden under their beds. Hah. Like he didn’t know about the full breasted lusty poses…
“My my.” Augusta purred, arching a brow as she watched him and tapped her finger against her chin. “I’ve never had you react so in my presence…”
Damn her and her mind reading skills.
“Now now.” She tutted, waggling her finger. “No being jealous of others because they have something you don’t.” she smirked as she said this.
Cotade frowned. “You’re too pleased with yourself.” He moved away, a little bit more unsettled with their talks than normal. Packing the books he had read back into the shelves (in alphabetical order, of course—the librarian would ban him if he did otherwise) he put the ones he hadn’t onto one desk, arranged in priority listings. “What did you do this time?”
Augusta moved through the table and jumped lightly onto it’s surface so that it appeared as if she was sprawled on the mess of books. She was getting better than this floating thing, at making everything look natural. Cotade had to admit—he was impressed.
“Nothing.” Her tone was innocent. And it didn’t suit her at all.
“Augusta.” Cotade frowned, deepening until it seemed like a scowl, except that it was a nicer version. Cotade was too well mannered to actually scowl—and even Augusta, with her tricks never managed to get anything more then this from him.
It was so hard to rile a man with the temper of a monk.
“Let’s just say that my… suggestions to the mayor got across this time.” Her voice was completely delicious, full of amusement and pride as she grinned, her eyes dancing.
Cotade shook his head, but he couldn’t help it.
When he wasn’t busy making a living, when he wasn’t busy researching for Augusta and when he wasn’t busy surviving by doing the necessities of eating and sleeping (although the gods knew, there had been little time for that these days) he had his time preoccupied by keeping Augusta out of trouble. By keeping an eye on her, and being her vocal conscious.
It was just really, really hard trying to be a conscious to someone who no one else could see. He usually came across as crazy.
“Did anyone get hurt?” he asked, concerned.
Augusta snorted. “I learnt my lesson the last time.” She said dryly. She was never, ever going to suggest to any of the farmers again to have their way with their wives in the middle of the fields. If their daughter hadn’t been near by (and oh, how embarrassing the meetings after had been!) they might have been run over by their own tractor. “No one… got hurt.”
“Physically?”
Augusta nodded, pleased.
“Mentally?” he asked.
Augusta hesitated this time, a look of torn amusement on her face.
“Augusta.” He sighed, exhasperated as he collected his tools and the final candles. “What am I going to do with you?”
Augusta watched as the scholar made his way out of the room, blowing out each candle as he made his way to the entrance, and offered hopefully.
“Love me?”
***
It was already night when he stepped outside, but it didn’t bother him any more. Maybe once upon a time, walking around at night, alone except for a half naked ghost as a companion may have scared him—but honestly, with a half naked ghost as a companion, what could scare the death out of you?
No pun intended, of course.
“Cotade, slow dooown.” Came the sultry whine behind him, but Cotade didn’t turn around, or pretend that he could hear her.
A long time ago, when he had still been a boy he had forgotten himself and had kept talking in front of her, as if she was actually there. Suffice to say, he had been dragged to many ‘doctors’, and now while people did remember his perchance for imaginary friends… well, at least no one thought he was crazy.
Cotade was good at adapting to things, and this was one of them. He pretended that he couldn’t hear her when they were in public, and in exchange she didn’t try to do anything weird and have him sent to an asylum. After all, who would help her after?
“Cotade~” someone called out loud, and the young scholar turned, half a smile on his face as he nodded his own greetings. “It’s been a while since you’ve come out with us—don’t you miss Alexa?”
Cotade smiled, stiffly.
“You know.” Augusta spoke behind him, as if part of the conversation. “The boy is right. You haven’t been going out with people in your age group for quite a while—why not? Don’t you miss them? Don’t you miss pressing your body against a young woman, and to flirt with her and wake up with no memory of the night?”
His smile became a little bit more stiff.
“You know.” He said casually. “Stuff. Research for my paper.”
The man arched a brow. “All work and no play.” He began, stopping as he frowned. “But really man, Alexa misses you.”
Augusta sniggered. “Who would think, looking at the boy you are that women actually like you?” she mused out loud.
Cotade ignored her words with ease. She saw it as a game, to get a reaction from him when he was with other people. “I’ll come down next time.” He promised.
“What’s your paper on anyways?”
This time, both ghost and scholar froze.
“You know.” He began. “The usual.”
The man laughed. “Good. Because people are saying you’re obsessed with ghosts now.” He chuckled. “Like ghosts exist, huh?”
Cotade’s smile was a bit weak. “Yeah.” He said, agreeing.
***
“I’m going to give him one good.” Augusta yelled. “Ghosts don’t exist. Hah! The ones I’ve seen—the things they can say—“
Cotade looked up, curious. “So you do see other ghosts?” While they had been ‘companions’ for over fifteen years, it didn’t mean that Augusta spoke about life as a dead creature. It seemed that there were some rules, and that she wasn’t supposed to say—there must be something at stake for Augusta to actually follow the rules.
Augusta frowned, not talking. “But maybe he’s right.” She said. “I was saying the same thing.. if people think you’re crazy…”
Cotade relaxed, slightly. “Augusta, for you to worry about me.” His tone was light as he looked around the room. “I’m almost there. I know it. Give me one more day…”
And suddenly he stopped talking all together. A bright, fierce pain seemed to rip through the center of his body, and with a soft gasp he fell.
“I know” Augusta, still unaware continued to talk. “You know, when we find out how to make me more real, we’ll show them all. Right Cotade?” her tone turned worried. “Cotade?”
***
A dozen curses ran through her man as she moved over, only to find that she couldn’t lift him. She had been alive for centuries, and yet only recently had she actually learnt how to control her body, to float so that it looked as if she was sitting on tables, on chairs and on beds. Wringing her hands and feeling useless, she looked around.
Cotade’s attacks never came so frequently before… she frowned, wondering why and didn’t know what to do. It always made her coldly furious—which was stupid, because she was always so cold.
“Cotade? Cotade?!” repeating his name, saying nothing but continuing to speak to him, she didn’t know how much time passed when his eyes fluttered open.
“Again?” was his first word, a bare whisper.
He looked… so young there. For a moment Augusta was so relieved, and then she was even more angry. “How dare you faint on me like that! What did you expect me to do?! You could have been more considerate as to do it outside.” She sniffed, aggrieved and trying not to show any kind feelings.
Cotade lay on the ground, blinking and for a moment Augusta felt her heart wrench.
It had been a long time since anyone had seen her. Usually they were crazy people, and even times like this, when she was angry at him, she was too relieved of being spoken to, to care.
Ghosts were some kind of company. But they were crazy people as well.
“I’m fine.” He said, his words pinched. “We’re going to have to work harder…”
The first time he had skipped worlds and vanished, she had been with him. She was always with him now, checking in every five minutes in case he did it again. Cotade might think it was because she wanted to play with him, because she got bored—but honestly, Augusta was scared that one day he might trip worlds and she would be alone again.
She was hoping that he would find a cure for her.
But most of all, sometimes she hoped he would arrive in a world where people could see her.
“The last time you had an attack this fierce…” she said quietly.
His eyes softened. Augusta didn’t know how he did that. How he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking even before she did herself. She liked to think of herself as evil, a bit cruel but times like this…
“We left the world the next day. See? We have one more day.” He said, smiling warmly.
“Where.. where do you go, when you faint?” she asked.
Cotade looked surprised that she wanted to know. “Why are you dead?” he asked right back.
Augusta smiled.
How was it that they had been together for so long, and yet they had never spoken?
“Swap stories?” Augusta suggested.
Cotade nodded.
***
“When I was a child I could see into different worlds. It was flashes in the mirror, in the water. It wasn’t a good thing because no one else could see it. I thought I was imagining things until a couple of years ago, when we arrived in one of those worlds. The things I can see…” his words took on a slightly reverential tone as he smiled. “Creatures in myths, dragons and serpents as big as buildings…”
“Don’t go off track.” Augusta interrupted, snippy.
Cotade smiled. “It’s only been in the last few years that I’ve actually been able to travel. I think it’s because of you, somehow. Maybe the magnetic energy a ghost carries…I don’t know. It hurts, when I pass out, but…
But when I pass out, I’m in another world. I’m visiting these places that makes it so hard to wake up. It’s always a different place, and while I’m not really living there..” Cotade hesitated. “But enough about me. How did you… die?”
Augusta laughed, and it wasn’t pleasant.
“When I was young, I was in love.” She said briefly. “Typical tragedy. We promised to die in each other’s arms rather than have fate pull us apart… and we did, die. Except someone managed to save him. A healer with renowned skill. I died, and when I did I saw him come back to life…” for a moment her eyes grew dark, furious. “He was so… relieved. I could feel it.”
Cotade reached out to touch her hand, and then hesitated, remembering too late that it wasn’t something he could do. “Augusta.” He began.
Augusta resisted his touch, pulling away. “It’s nothing.” She said, brightly. “I’m just…”
“Augusta.” He said again, persisting. “What happened?”
Augusta turned to him. “I can convince people to do things they don’t want to do. I was angry.” She said, her voice slightly dead. “I don’t regret it. But I killed him.”
“Killed…”
“He died thinking of me. Everyone died, succumbing to their worse vices. It was fun, while it lasted and sometimes…” she closed her eyes. “It gets warm, when they die.” She whispered. “I feel… warm.”
Cotade left it at that.
***
“Did you find it?” Augusta asked.
Cotade swatted at her and felt his hand pass through cooler air. “No.” he snapped. “Now leave me alone.”
“…”
“What about now?”
Cotade looked up, exhasperated. “No! I’ve been saying that for the past hour. Time will go by faster if you just left and gave me space.”
Augusta scowled right back.
The moment yesterday had been too… intimate for them to handle.
“Well, if you could work a bit harder.” She said, and he made a face.
“Augusta.” He began, and then paused. “Augusta?”
Augusta watched his face fade, and knew what was happening.
“Aw.” She said. And swore.
***
While she couldn’t touch him, ghosts seemed to be able to hold a mental link that was equivalent to holding hands. And maybe it was because of this, but Augusta always managed to follow him when he left worlds.
He was good at adapting, pretending. He looked young enough that it worked all the time. And she? No one saw her anyways.
But this…
“Augusta?” he asked, quietly scared. “Are you…”
Augusta wriggled down on his lap, and when she turned around her eyes were shining. “I’m alive.” She whispered.
“Not quite.” Someone chuckled. Someone dark.
Both Augusta and Cotade looked up to something watching them with a slightly evil smile.
***
“And that’s how it happened.” Cotade told Shy.
“That’s it? You just landed at the Citadel, and they assumed you were chosen for the clutch and let you stay?”
Augusta was too busy primping in front of the mirror to care.
“And someone, one of your creatures had been visiting to send a representative, and found us.” He said honestly.
Shy arched a brow. This man was nice, almost kind but there was nothing… good about him. He was neutral, really but with the capacity of either great good or great evil. Justified evil, because Shy knew this kind of man. He would never do anything for spite.
Maybe for revenge, though.
“And yes, here you are.”
Once one of his creatues had bought these two to his attention, he had tracked them down, curious to see the man who could go between like a dragon. Except it hurt. Of course it did. He had promised to help them, to give Cotade lessons and to give Augusta something closer to life.
It seemed, the way good candidates experienced a shift in personality, as a odd ghost she had become more physical. It had not been permanent though, and oh—her scream of fury!
“Thank you. Did I say that?” Augusta asked, distracted as she ran her hands down a chair. She was fascinated with touch, with food and it was enough that Shy liked her.
Shy liked her, because she was beautiful and he was always collecting beautiful things. “You did.” He purred. “Do you like it?”
Augusta smirked. “You mean, my body?” she asked archly.
Shy never got embarrassed.
He knew the kind of woman Augusta was as well. She was the kind who pretended to be good, to be neutral and yet was evil. As if something had gone wrong… deep inside. He knew her, because he recognized the darkness in her eyes.
That only lighted when Cotade came by.
Shy watched them, considering. “Well.” He purred. “I’ll come back for a visit soon—and for the hatching as well.” His smile turned slow, considering as he watched them both. “Will you two be okay?”
The two exchanged glances.
Being…physical together, had opened so many new doors.
Close, intimate doors.
“Well.” Cotade started, blushing.
“Yes.” Augusta said, using the same purr Shy had perfected. “Yes, we’ll be fine.”
Shy arched a brow, wishing he could watch, but instead bowed, and took his leave. “Until the hatching.” He said.
***
One of the hatchlings screeched in hunger, despite three muzzles covered in blood and bits of flesh, and seeing Cotade, rushed forward as if to tear him apart. The charge was halted by the sudden action of another little monster, a black beastling nearly covered in red spines. Cotade is not your prey! With a hiss, the hungry hatchling looked for another, and the black monster turned all six crimson eyes to the young man. Zoleir will not allow to harm what is his.
Augusta. I will give you warmth. I am Ishtah. The feminine voice purred to the ghost-woman as a speckled violet beastling made her way towards Cotade's companion.
Chosen: Cotade
Name: Zoleir
Gender: Male
Dam: Kahan
Sire: Breasal
Breed: Mix (Whorling/AAM Beast)
Rank: Imperial
Abilities: Telepathy, Poison
Notes: Zolier is neither Shadow-Touched nor Shadow-Tainted.
Chosen: Augusta
Name: Ishtah
Gender: Female
Dam: Lao
Sire: Echothet
Breed: Mix (Whorling/Hath-Hydra)
Abilities: Telepathy, Dark Vision, Fire Breath, Poison
Notes: Ishtah is Shadow-Touched.
