ph_logs | [OPEN] She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

[OPEN] She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

Who: Chris Freeman (

thelatechrisfreeman) & you (or maybe you? perhaps you?)
What: the bitch is back, baby!
When: the month of July
Where: various places around the island
Warning(s): discussion of illness and death likely

I said 'I'm just tired', she said 'You're just high.' [Back to Work]
The reason that Chris hasn't been social, like... at all? For about two months now? Post-flood outbreak of pneumonia among patients of the Winterbottom Clinic. They took full responsibility, refusing much in the way of help, and thus their days have been full of treatment and sometimes palliative care for the most frail.

There were also concerns about not burning through the antibiotic supplies for this particular outbreak, which led to some difficult decisions and even more difficult days and nights...

But now, finally, things are looking up. There haven't been any re-infections for a whole week. Chris walks from their house to the clinic proper, looking forward to a shift filled with cases other than infectious disease.

Feel free to swing by the clinic to say hello, now that they've finally emerged from their self-imposed sequestration.

Oh, I make you cringe now; don't I make you cringe? [Something Life Balance]
Newer arrivals may not remember this or not have been present, but Chris was downright weird upon first coming to Marrow Isle. They've apparently reverted back to that, what with being found up a tree, or on a roof, or wandering along the surf's edge and chattering away to empty air.

Perhaps you feel like figuring out what's going on with them?

Lover come hold me, head's on the fritz [Breaking Bread]
Chris could probably cook for themself, sure. They've had enough practice with baking, and simple cooking. But sometimes meals are about more than getting fed. Sometimes meals are about community.

Perhaps you catch Chris at one of the meals after Wednesday service in the Temple of Sacred Roots. Or maybe you notice them sitting at a table at the Oak and Iron some other night. You'll be waved over to sit beside them once they notice you!

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Lev/Lyubov is on hir way home from a morning shift at the library when sie comes across Chris sitting up in a tree, but it's not the oddness of the situation that makes hir come over to see what's up — the fact it might be odd doesn't even occur to hir. It's far more that sie's missed Chris.

Sie peers up into the canopy, shielding hir eyes against the summer sun.

"Gitn tog!" sie calls up to Chris, smiling. "Art thou like, occupied up there, or hast thou the time to chat?"

There are a lot of good reasons to be climbing a tree in the middle of the day, even if Lev/Lyubov can't think of any offhand right now.

"Talking to a ghost!" Chris calls down to Lev. They can be heard saying, "Let me know if you see her around, all right? And ask around if anyone thinks they'd be able to get through to her."

After that, Chris descends from branch to branch until they are sitting upon a low one where neither they nor Lev will need to shout to be heard. There is a twig and a bit of lichen stuck in Chris's hair, which they don't seem to notice as they smile at Lev.

"Hello! How have you been, dear?"

"Ohhh," says Lev/Lyubov, as Chris climbs down to the lower branch, "nu, right, of course." Sie doesn't sound at all sarcastic, actually — more chagrined that sie didn't think of something so obvious.

Sie suppresses the urge to fish the lichen and twigs out of Chris's hair, at least for the moment.

"Feh like, I've been terrible?" sie says, easily. Sie certainly looks at peace with the situation, as sie leans one shoulder against the trunk of the tree, so sie and Chris can face each other but sie can also take some weight off hir feet. "Except the last while. Since the ship. Nu, mostly. There was some unpleasantness one Shabbos, but nothing like, out of the ordinary for here? Nyura's here now, so things cannot be bad now. But like, never mind me. What hast thou been like? I've ..." Lev/Lyubov pauses, not wanting to push Chris into talking about things they might want to let fade into dim work memory. "Nu. I know why thou wert so busy. Art thou ... like, getting decent rest now?"

Sie starts to say something else, and then cuts hirself off, not wanting to accidentally make hir concern seem perfunctory. Questions about the ghost thing can wait a minute or two.

"I'm not exerting myself as much physically, which balances out with the amount of rest I'm able to get," Chris answers. This is not a 'yes I'm getting decent rest' and Lev/Lyubov should be able to pick up on that. "It's more a change in what's taking up my attention, rather than the demand easing up, but I'll manage."

They reach out, and pat hir on the shoulder. "I'm glad that you're not lonely now. That you've got your people."

Lev/Lyubov does absolutely pick up that Chris is avoiding hir question, and for the moment chooses to say nothing direct regarding that. Instead, sie decides to try a more subtle tack — sie can't force Chris to rest, but sie can at least invite them to dinner sometime; socialisation is no replacement for sleep, but it's a kind of rest just as necessary.

And this way sie can be sure Chris is skipping one less meal that week.

"It's been wonderful having him here, yes," sie says. "... thou ought to meet him. I'd like to like, nu. Introduce him to my friends here?"

"I would love that!" they say, with a warm and genuine smile. "What is a good day and time to come visit?"

After a moment, they finally notice the twig in their hair and pluck it out. There's a faint blush coloring their face as they drop the twig aside.

"Nu, like, Friday evening's always good," Lev/Lyubov says, carefully feigning obliviousness to the interactions between Chris and twig, "or say ... Shabbos, around 5 PM or so? For the third meal. But like ... that aside ... if thou hast time to talk now?"

Sie cocks hir head to one side and pauses, chewing on hir lower lip. Finally, sie says, carefully, "might I like, bring up the whole ghost thing with thee? I've ... nu. Back where I was born, such talents are not so uncommon as to be a novelty, but many find it a delicate matter and discuss it not. But ..." sie pauses, flustered. "Like ..."

Sie glances up into the tree; as expected, sie can tell someone is there, if sie concentrates ... but sie loses the concentration easily, and then the canopy is merely a canopy, and the presence of the ghost is merely a strong suspicion, like the feeling of someone standing behind hir — hard to trust, but often as not accurate.

"I think thou would'st have insight here, nu?"

"I'll give you a call, morning of, to give you a heads up," Chris says in reply to those options. It will be nice to share a meal with a friend, and hopefully make a new one.

Chris nods at the question about bringing up 'the whole ghost thing', and watches with interest as Lyubov looks up into the tree. They answer, "I don't find it delicate. I just tell people that I can see ghosts, and whether or not they believe me is up to them. Do you... can you see them, too?"

"If thou call'st Shabbos morning and we pick up not, assume thou'rt good to come over and we'll like, know thou'rt coming?" Lev/Lyubov says. "And if thou call'st not, we'll assume thou'rt busy or like, not up for visiting, neither of which are snubs by either me or mine husband."

And now that Chris's asked hir outright about the ghost thing, sie can't try and meander away from the subject and pretend sie never brought it up.

"Nu, like, that's the whole problem? I used to. See ghosts, I mean. Easily. Just like ... like, that!" sie snaps hir fingers to emphasise. "But here, I have to ... to think about it. To look and look hard, and try to see, and then half the time my concentration like, it slips? And that's. That's never happened before."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll keep that in mind."

From where they sit on the tree branch, they swing their legs back and forth a little as they think.

"I don't know if you were here at the same time as the Shade. But normally, he's able to see the spirits of the dead, and he couldn't really do it here." Chris chews on their lower lip for a moment, then asks, "Did you used to help the ghosts move on, love?"

Lev/Lyubov begins to shake their head, freezes mid-gesture as sie considers that Chris wasn't necessarily asking if sie's a professional physician-necromancer and tried to turn the shake into a nod. Sie clears hir throat awkwardly and ducks hir head.

"Nu, like, yes? Kind of, like? But not like, not as my profession. That's Nyura's job. Mine husband's. I helped him, since like, I'm more sensitive than he is, but he's more ... practised. And sometimes seeing the ghosts too easily, that itself hinders helping any specific one. But. Yes. And some what were not ready, or some who'd gotten stuck halfway between here and there, we would help shield them from those what would call on them to reveal knowledge they wished to keep private."

Chris nods in understanding as Lev/Lyubov gives that explanation.

"We can't help the ghosts move on yet. With the barrier still up, they are as trapped as the rest of us. Mortanne told me so in a message. What we can do is help them find... a measure of peace and happiness, even if they have to linger here." They give Lev/Lyubov a little smile. "Maybe that's why it's harder for you to see them? I don't think Mortanne wants anyone to hurt themselves trying to reach past the barrier to help ghosts move on."

With a sheepish look, Chris admits, "Once, I tried reaching out to a spirit native to my home universe, and my body went wandering out at night as well. Which isn't how that's supposed to work. I'm just lucky I ended up on a friend's porch."

"Good, good that ... that thou hast such friends, who'll object not but help thee," Lev/Lyubov says, very earnest. "I mean, like ... nu, by thee, such things are uncommon, but by me, by us back where I was born, any contact with those not yet moved on, even with those what died and died not fully, it requires some contact with the Silver. And, feh. For some of us, the Silver is like an intoxicant, or bright lights. Not always, but often enough. I don't wander, but I've had fits?"

Sie sighs, also a little sheepish.

"They've always said, I have one foot already in the Silver. Nyura, he can walk in and out like fetching jars from the pantry, nu? I have less control. So I'd suspect thou hast the right of it, and Mortanne's like ... protecting us as much as anyone could. Since I think the barrier would keep me out of the Silver, too, if it even reaches this far."

Sie refrains from specifying outright what or who sie thinks Mortanne is, figuring there's no need to get into the weeds of the angels appointed to watch over the nations.

"Whom hoped'st thou to contact? If like, that's not too private a matter. If it's like, private, then feel free to say not."

"It's overwhelming at times," Chris says with a nod. "Especially before I got some lessons from my teacher? I felt like an overflowing cup, with the pitcher still pouring. And it does have a draw to it. It can be hard to resist."

(While Chris isn't a convert, they've picked up on the devout vibe from many of their patients. If Lev started speaking of Mortanne being an angel rather than a goddess, with the two of them in public, Chris would counsel caution regardless of their own views. Perhaps in a more private setting, it would feel less risky for Lyubov and Chris to discuss. As it is, since sie refrained, that caution goes unvoiced.)

"It's not private. There was... I suppose you could call him an old sage. Lord Arion lived during what we call 'the Ninth Age of Magic', when there were many Lords of Order and Chaos. It is 'the Tenth Age of Magic' in the current day of my world, and I think there is only one of each now. I had hoped for some insight... but due to the barrier, I never even had a change to speak to Lord Arion."

Lev/Lyubov sighs.

"I never considered not, that the Silver is part of why I can do the things I do," sie says, a little glumly. "This place, it has always felt ... strange, but all places feel strange. But the longer I spend here, the more aware I become of it. Maybe it is merely the barrier, nu? Or ..."

Sie shrugs, shrugging off the thought. It's unknowable right now. And anyway, sie's much more interested in the details of Chris's world right now, and in the mysterious Sage they'd mentioned.

"Spoke'st thou to Lord Arion before, then? Or ... wert thou hoping thou would'st never have the need?"

"You said that you've always had some trouble separating from the Silver, yes?" Chris asks. They elaborate, "I had a teacher here, for a short while. The Shade. He taught me some meditation techniques that help keep me from being overwhelmed by interacting with ghosts. I could teach you as well? Just in case it helps."

Chris nods. "Just once. A descendant of his was killed... and I helped her get justice by figuring out clues to her killer and making sure the police were able to pursue the man. Lord Arion was happy to welcome her to what comes after, once she was at peace. And he said I might call on him for help should I need it."

"Trouble not walking through the door when it opened, nu?" Lev/Lyubov says, cryptically. "And like ... I do know some ... like, I suppose they're meditation techniques, but mine uncle never had to guard himself as much as I did, from the Silver. I think ... if thou'rt willing to teach me, I'd like to learn those techniques from thee. Please."

Lev/Lyubov considers what Chris said about Lord Arion, and then smiles, and looks at Chris with a little surprise, as if some matter has finally clarified itself to hir.

"So thou did'st the same work mine husband did, nu?" sie says. "At least like, in part? Making sure the dead linger not where they can only haunt."

In answer to zir question, Chris replies, "The dead have gone through life, and deserve some peace."

Lev/Lyubov nods.

"Nu," they say, a little sadly — yes, true. But regrettable that such things are not a guarantee. "But like, I got the impression ... by thy world, such callings as thine, they're, like. Rare?"

"I only know of one other person who is like me -- he died and came back, same as me, and has the power to help spirits move from the mortal world to the subtle realms, as well as the Between. He is Mr. Keeper, and he says he can't answer my questions, but at home he does help me sometimes. Helping me to help the ghosts."

Chris frowns a little, the upset rooted in what they will have to describe, not anything that Lev/Lyubov has said or done. "There's two reasons that my, uh, calling -- as you say -- is rare. First, I don't think that there are many who can do what I do... what Mr. Keeper and I do. Second... it isn't safe to advertise that you have powers in my world. You'll either get drawn into fights between the supervillains and the superheroes, or the government will snatch you up and make you work for them."

"Ah," says Lev/Lyubov, and winces, not least in sympathy.

"Nu. I mean, like. I suppose back home, such things are too common to receive such focused attention ... but. Feh. Nyura and his sister, they really had little choice of profession, as soon as it became clear they like, took after their grandfather and could talk to those what others see not."

"But ... there is little danger of ..." they gesture, a little vaguely. "I'm not like, sure what thou mean'st by superheroes, but like ... I get the gist it involves trouble of the kind most people prefer to never encounter. But Nyura, like. Nyura's had to go looking for such trouble. It would have found him not, if he sought it not."

[[ OOC: Have an opening to infodump things Chris maybe should already know by the time of the dream event... ]]

"You mean government trouble?" Chris asks, rather more bluntly than before.

Lev/Lyubov winces, but not at Chris. It's the topic itself that's sensitive.

"Nu, I suppose?" they say. "Nyura, he. Well. He was a courtier?" They pause, looking down at the ground. It's best if they avoid scrutinising Chris's face just now. Best if they don't try to pre-empt any reaction. Chris, after all, is their friend and deserves their honesty.

"He was ... pretty high up, too. Like. Feh—"

They take a deep breath and look up, though they still avoid meeting Chris's eye — but not out of shame, nor shyness. Merely conserving energy. Even from the little Chris has said, Lev/Lyubov has heard enough to surmise this conversation is going to be a taxing one for both of them.

"I suspect thou ... know'st, nu?" they say. "They offer protection with the right hand, and throw one into peril with the left. They offer status, as long as thou'rt a credit to them and their plans. And if Nyura had like ... if sın Falk had not ... if Nyura had never been one of the Court Physicians, I doubt he would've been noticed."

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[OPEN] She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

don't I make you cringe? [tree-climbing]

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