Shades of a ghost (Merry)
Aug 28, 2013 23:44:47 GMT -7
Post by Draven on Aug 28, 2013 23:44:47 GMT -7
Christopher Ryen opened his eyes up in his small loft tucked away with in the walls of the brigade near the portals. He was close enough to absorb it's power to live on. And yet still far away to be unnoticed. The only way to enter was phasing through the walls. It hoped to one day put a door in. That was for one person only, Merry.
She keeps pushing him away. No matter how are he tired. If it was any other girl he would have shrugged and said their loss. But Merry was, he could feel it deep down. He loved her. For what ever reason. Chris struggled everyday to find why he cared for her so deeply. Even the first time he saw her.
His loft was coved with pictures of different landscapes on the wall. He hoped that one of them would be were he was from when he was human. He knows he is a Prince. But all other memories escape him. Why? Other ghost complain about loves lost and what they had done when they were human. Chris wishes he had their problems. A strained of lights hung on the top part of the wall. And act as his only light source. And the floor is big enough for one mattress. He does not need to sleep but like to lay down and think. Thinking keeps him alive. At lest to him.He sat up and started to work on his song. He was writing it about his relationship with Merry. He was almost done and hoped to sing it to her soon.
After an hour he had to get out of his hole, as he called it. Walking down the streets of the market. Some saw him, others didn't. He did not care. At one point he did. He would mess with anyone who could not see him, haunting them. What else did he have to pass an eternity with. Now it just seemed childish. After that night at the restaurant with Merry, something inside of him changed. He hoped for the better. And he hoped she would forgive him. Right now he would let her have her space. That was what she needed.
Something caught his eye at an antiques cart. It was what looked like an old oil panting. The edges were burnt and torn. The painting looked to have seen better days. But it was the couple in the painting that caught his eye. A prince in a military like red uniform and a lovely women in a white ball gown, That looked like himself and Merry. He was confused and fascinated all at once. He had to show this to her. In the past he would have just taken it. But he could not do that to the old man running the booth.
"Excuse me sir. Can you see me?" He asked.
"Of course I can. Am not blind. Not yet anyway." Chris sighed in relief.
"Can you tell me about this painting. Who are they?"
"All I know is that this is the Prince of Redwood and his bride, That was what I was told when I bought it. That painting is old, two three centuries maybe."
Could that really be Chris? And if it was, was that Merry and were married? He knows he was a Prince.
"How much do you want for it. Never mind here." He gave the man all the money he had. He was able to phase it from his hole to his pocket. It was more then what he was asking, but he did not care.
He rolled it up gentle. He had to show this to her even if she was still mad at him. This clue might help him uncover his past. And if she was apart of that then she needed to know.
He phased on his black tee and jeans. No show this time. He would be in front of her simple and his true self. His black hair unkempt and the only hint of glam was a thin line of eye liner under each eye. It only served to deepen his gaze. Knocking on her door felt strange to him. He would normally just phase in. But he wanted to show her the new Chris. He knocked again. Maybe she was not home. He waited. And knocked again. It had been four weeks since he last saw her.
She keeps pushing him away. No matter how are he tired. If it was any other girl he would have shrugged and said their loss. But Merry was, he could feel it deep down. He loved her. For what ever reason. Chris struggled everyday to find why he cared for her so deeply. Even the first time he saw her.
His loft was coved with pictures of different landscapes on the wall. He hoped that one of them would be were he was from when he was human. He knows he is a Prince. But all other memories escape him. Why? Other ghost complain about loves lost and what they had done when they were human. Chris wishes he had their problems. A strained of lights hung on the top part of the wall. And act as his only light source. And the floor is big enough for one mattress. He does not need to sleep but like to lay down and think. Thinking keeps him alive. At lest to him.He sat up and started to work on his song. He was writing it about his relationship with Merry. He was almost done and hoped to sing it to her soon.
After an hour he had to get out of his hole, as he called it. Walking down the streets of the market. Some saw him, others didn't. He did not care. At one point he did. He would mess with anyone who could not see him, haunting them. What else did he have to pass an eternity with. Now it just seemed childish. After that night at the restaurant with Merry, something inside of him changed. He hoped for the better. And he hoped she would forgive him. Right now he would let her have her space. That was what she needed.
Something caught his eye at an antiques cart. It was what looked like an old oil panting. The edges were burnt and torn. The painting looked to have seen better days. But it was the couple in the painting that caught his eye. A prince in a military like red uniform and a lovely women in a white ball gown, That looked like himself and Merry. He was confused and fascinated all at once. He had to show this to her. In the past he would have just taken it. But he could not do that to the old man running the booth.
"Excuse me sir. Can you see me?" He asked.
"Of course I can. Am not blind. Not yet anyway." Chris sighed in relief.
"Can you tell me about this painting. Who are they?"
"All I know is that this is the Prince of Redwood and his bride, That was what I was told when I bought it. That painting is old, two three centuries maybe."
Could that really be Chris? And if it was, was that Merry and were married? He knows he was a Prince.
"How much do you want for it. Never mind here." He gave the man all the money he had. He was able to phase it from his hole to his pocket. It was more then what he was asking, but he did not care.
He rolled it up gentle. He had to show this to her even if she was still mad at him. This clue might help him uncover his past. And if she was apart of that then she needed to know.
He phased on his black tee and jeans. No show this time. He would be in front of her simple and his true self. His black hair unkempt and the only hint of glam was a thin line of eye liner under each eye. It only served to deepen his gaze. Knocking on her door felt strange to him. He would normally just phase in. But he wanted to show her the new Chris. He knocked again. Maybe she was not home. He waited. And knocked again. It had been four weeks since he last saw her.
