Posts by Fairylights

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    "There's all the reason, John," Fairy would chide softly as she drifted closer towards John, not caring what he thought of the situation prior. An accident had occured between the tension between her, ghost, and John himself- a dagger had been thrown, a mistake made, and yet, Fairy was still here. There had been no real damage. She hadn't been killed. Not by his hands, anyway. "You're starved, and cold, and you'll get sick from being out in the rain. Clean up, get some food in you. Please, love," she murmured softly, her words at first sounding more like a command, but they had softened dramatically by the time she had finished her sentence. She didn't want to have to boss him around, but he needed to take care of himself, frankly. And she didn't like his currently dismissive attitude towards his own wellbeing. "I can't do it myself, but I can't stand here and see you hurting, either. I'm trying to help in the only way I can right now. Please."

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    Fairy thought that the lack of blanket or cocoa was a lie, but she dismissed it for now as she looked him over. He looked terrible. IT was hard to put it into words. Starvation, the dullness in his eyes, the lack of will that she saw in him. "Hmm," she would muse, wandering around the house as she began to scrounge around the best she could for signs of rags or blankets or anything that could be used. "At least get cleaned up then, hm? I know for a fact you at least have some rags and water. Let's get some food in you, too! I'd get you something but uhm.. Still haven't figured out the whole 'moving things when you're a ghost' thing. Give me a hand?"

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    Though she could have just walked through the door without needing it open, there was a sense of relief that washed over her at seeing him get up. Even if she had to fight tooth and hoof to get him to get up, pulling out all the stops that she could think of to convince him, and no matter how begrudging he was about it, she had won. And now, he was getting up, out of the rain, and it was all that Fairy could have asked for to see John well, even if he didn't want to be well. She murmured a sort of thank you as she followed him through the door to let him know he could close it, the lavender breeze fluttering by as she followed into the house and took a place off to the side, noting already that it was warmer inside, even though such a thing didn't really matter for her anymore. "There you are, love. Do you have a blanket somewhere?" she would murmur softly, subconsciously looking around for the item despite not being able to pick it up. Though, she did have to admit that she was feeling a slight bit better, likely that her soul was starting to piece itself back together again, but by bit. She didn't know the thoughts running through his head; what the rain and her stubbornness had reminded him of. All she knew is that he needed help, and she would be there to help him, no matter what. "Cocoa, maybe?" He needed food, too, though she would take it step by step. It was more likely he'd follow a few little directions rather than nagging all at once.

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    "Yes it will!" she insisted, her frustration driving her. It was odd how in her spirit form, as a ghost, emotions drove her so much more than they had when she was alive. It was like her spirit was clinging to the one thing that had once made her alive. Or, perhaps it was her own frustration. "Barkins..." she murmured, pulling out all attempts that she could to drive him from his spot. If calling him "Barkins' the one nickname she had given to him when she was still alive would do anything to help him, she would do it. "Can't we go inside, please? I can't see well in the rain." It was a lie, but maybe if he wouldn't do it for himself, he would do it for her. He had always been loyal in that way. And if that didn't work?... She didn't know. Did he want her gone? Possibly, but doing that would be just as terrible as if Fairy killed him herself. She wouldn't allow that. "My dear love, please.."

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    "Yes you are, John." Her voice was firm for once, confident only in the fact that somehow she would get him to move. "You can't give up. I won't lose you," her voice had softened again, pleading to him still despite it all. He couldn't just sit out here to die- which he would, eventually, either by sickness or by the stubborn fact that he wouldn't move to take care of himself. Damn it! What could she do to convince him? She stood up, rising over him so that the cold brush of her spirit was still persistant at his side, urging him to move even if she couldn't do it physically, or even show herself. "Get up, John. I won't let you just lie there. It'll be okay. I promise."

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    Her heart ached for him, seeing him like this, yet knowing she was in a world where she was not allowed to be near him. It wasn't like when she was alive. She could've wrap him up in blankets, forcefully move him inside, make him cocoa or talk to him or do any of the silly things that she thought might have helped right now. Instead, she was looking at him through a curtain, like the finest silk in the world, shimmering incandescently, yet he was on the other side of it. Wanting to die- giving up hope, again. Of course she understood. He had been betrayed, thought he had killed her, but she just didn't understand why he refused to accept that she was standing right there besides him.


    "John, please..." she pleaded again, knowing that if she stayed here long enough she'd probably get some more of her power back, but knowing it wasn't good for him to stay out here any longer. "I'm not strong enough again to speak any louder. It's me. It's Fairy. I'm right here." Why didn't he believe her? How frustrating it was to be like this, unable to do a thing. For those few moments, she knew exactly how John felt, perhaps, when she had died. And for that alone, she was still sorrowful about. "You don't deserve to rot. I won't leave you. I promised you that a long time ago." 

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    Why was he like this? It was frustrating that she couldn't draw enough power to show herself, to prove that she was there, instead having to see him curl up misterably, thinking that his mind was playing some cruel trick on him. But she persisted, resting at his side for as long as she dared, knowing that her presence now was a cold spirit, instead of the warm deer that she had once been. "John. It's me." Would he believe her? Or would he continue to let his mind play tricks on him? From the looks of him already, he couldn't stand much longer of this. "Get up..." she continued, though she could feel her own voice falter at the end and briefly flicker out. She took in a breath- or at least the spirit form of a breath, and tried again. "You need to eat. Get warm. Out of the rain."

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    It was hard to explain what had happened to her after that iron dagger had pierced her - thrown by the one she could trust the most, loved the most, and yet its intended target had missed, and instead had eradicated her soul from the spot. But where had her spirit gone? It was an odd sensation- she was forced out of the place she had once been, and for several days- what felt like weeks to her- her spirit had drifted in fragments in the void, like little tiny butterflies flocking like whisps of smoke through the curtain that was the veil. Once her spirit had finally settled again, it took several hours for her to being piecing herself back together. Her spirit was weaker than it was before, currently, but she found, upon looking around, that she wasn't very far from where she had been stabbed to begin with. Perhaps because she knew deep within she was still tied to John. That she still, somehow, needed to look after him, even if she was now dead.


    It took her a while longer to find him back at camp, the rain making it harder for her to see, making her more sluggish, but she could see him, and he looked terrible. How long had he been there? Judging by what she knew of John to begin with, likely since he had broken her spirit apart temporarily. She didn't know why that had happened, in truth, but she figured it was a lot harder to get rid of a spirit permanently than one thought- plus there were still several of her personal belongings that, if mythology was anything to go by, would keep her here for a while. But how would she get through to him? Even when her spirit had been stronger, it had taken her a long time to figure out how to appear and show herself to him. But now she was probably half of her original spiritual power, judging that pieces of her were still trying to find their way back, but seeing him there, soaking in the rain, his pelt clinging to his frame like a skeleton- she couldn't just leave him like that.


    She stepped closer, stepping over him gingerly as a cold brush of air against his back, accompanied by that telltale scent of lavender as she debated what to do. Would he realize it was her? Or would he dismiss it in his own misery? She settled at his side, watching him in silence for some minutes. Poor John... It was strange to think that even though she were the one that was dead, she still would rather never see him suffer- she'd sit here for hours, days, weeks, doing anything if it meant that she could try and comfort him again. She tried to will her spirit to appear, but she could feel the tethers, like strings on her back that kept her firmly tied into this curtain world between the living and the dead. "John..." she attempted, though her voice sounded far away, a little whisper on the breeze, something that might be easily dismissed as a trick of the mind unless one were paying attention to it. "Get up, John.."

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    Fairylights had given up on trying to get Ghost off of her. He had proven already to be stronger than her, and she was in no position to try and fight him off- it was a little known fact that deer, though having a strong torso and neck, were not so great when they were prone. Many deer, actually, in fear of being eaten alive, often went into a state of paralysis when they were caught in a position like this. But she saw Soap, with the knife. She didn't think it would really do anything to Ghost- unknowing that it was iron; but she knew the mythology well enough. She had dared to open her eyes again, to try and search for John, as if he could help her- but then the knife flew, and she felt Ghost's weight on her shift as he flinched out of the way- and then she saw the glint of steel, ripping through the curtain of the void and the real world; perhaps her own fantasy delusions for what she was stuck in.


    Then it pierced her. It was not a cold sensation like the feeling of Ghost pinning her down, but a burning one, like fire through her chest that crawled its way through ever tendril of her spiritual body. She nearly screamed, but she felt herself being pulled away, her ghostly form breaking apart as her form turned into a pure white trail of smoke curling along the ground, before it disappeared right along with her.

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    She wasn't alive. She wasn't alive. She tried to take some morbid comfort in the fact that maybe she wouldn't feel this pain again- couldn't feel this pain again. She wouldn't stand by, letting her chest be broken, her legs torn into, and reduced to a shred of nothing on a cold ground. Maybe, just maybe, just maybe. She felt Ghost's weight on top of her, a burning cold sensation against her ghostly figure that made her struggle further as she shut her eyes tight, praying, hoping, a weak girl. She was weak. She was pathetic. Just like they had said to her once. Ghost was enjoying this. Tormenting Soap- using her like they had. He was no different. He was a monster like the rest of them. She didn't want to hurt John again. She loved him too much. Why was Ghost doing this if he had cared so much about him to begin with? None of this made sense, but she braced herself, waiting for the pain, or whatever happened when a spirit attacked another. Once again, she had accepted her fate.

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    It was no surprise she was being yelled at, but their words were turning now into a blur of sound as she watched Ghost in front of her, leaping at her with the full intent of slamming his weight into her. She felt a cold dread creep back up into her heart. She didn't remember dying, and most memories from when she were alive often fluttered and faded in and out, like she couldn't contain them anymore, but she knew this well. She had lived this before dying- perhaps why it was such a stark memory for the ghost; how she died, what had caused it. An attack, being beaten down, subdued, just like the deer she was.


    Her form disappeared as Ghost tackled her to the ground, reappearing a moment later in a swirl of light as she found herself on the ground, her hooves flailing uselessly to try and get Ghost off of her. The world around her, sans the curtain that she already felt trapped in with the void, was like she had stuffed her head into cotton. Everything was suddenly muffled, and slow. She no longer had any heartbeat, nor breath to show her fear, but she could feel it, sparking along her ghostly form in a visual representation. "No!" she would cry, trying to shove Ghost off of her somehow, but she was rather at a disadvantage; and weaker. "Not again, no! No!"

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    Why didn't she leave? She could run, she could try and get away from Ghost and John in the void, to try and get away, to defuse the sitaution, come up with a plan- or not- what did she do? She was a damn Warrant Officer in the 141- meant to make battle plans and strategies and ways out of situations like this, but when it came down to her, already dead and fearing that she'd be sent away again, she didn't know what to do. She couldn't fight Ghost, yet the tension between the two were growing. And it was being directed back at her.


    You did this. Did she? Maybe she did. She came back somehow, and went straight for John. She had broken some sort of line between Ghost and John that she didn't even know had existed; a bond of jealousy that was now shining through. It was turning into anger, into violence, everything that she tried to prevent John from doing for his own sake. Fairylight's ghostly form stiffened, brightening as she drew what little power she had left in her spirit to try and hold her ground. She couldn't fight him, but she could try to diffuse this, couldn't she? She had to. Was she scared? Terrified. But her mouth wouldn't open to speak, she could only stare wide-eyed at Ghost as he phased through John, making a clear point to her as he stood in front of her. Every instinct that was left in her deer-form was telling her to run; but she could handle this. She had to. Fairy tried channeling everything that John had once yelled at her- to be strong, and not such a coward that she was; in less kindly terms.


    But it was Soap's growl, his sudden anger that made her freeze up anymore. That wasn't John. "J-john, stop it- this isn't you. E-everything's fine. W-we can all just c-calm d-down and talk about this, okay? W-what happened to the 141 wasn't your fault. A-a lot of what happened was beyond your control. I-i know I haven't been here a-and maybe I-i was wrong to come back after a-all of this t-time not knowing what w-was going on but I-i never had any b-bad intentions," her words were tumbling over each other, speaking more out of fear than in any rational thought. It was unlike her to speak so much, but she had a point to make. And two angry men that she didn't want to see hurt- even though only one of them could hurt her. She'd take that, if it meant that John would calm down; though she still took a couple steps back from Ghost. "W-we're all just... g-getting worked up. T-there's no reason to be like this."

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    Fairy knew that Ghost hated her. She knew. And maybe she didn't deserve John. Maybe she hadn't deserved someone though, at war with themselves, had been sweet, and kind, and caring. She had never meant to fall for him- who had ever heard of a dog and a deer being together?- but it had happened. And for the few short, beautiful moments that they had had together before she had died, it had been one of the happiest moments in her life. She couldn't help that she hadn't been there for John. Her revival as a spirit was a new thing for her, and for the time inbetween her death and the attempts that Soap had made, the things he had done, she hadn't been any the wiser they were taking place- she wasn't even aware of it now.


    But it wasn't her fault. BloodClan had left her to starve in a foot of snow; they had beaten her so relentlessly that she couldn't walk, with a broken chest plate- a fragile part of the body for a deer- and several other wounds that would have easily ended any wild deer's life. Even with the Medic's help in SunClan, and a bit of John's, too, it had only extended her life; not fixed it. She didn't know of Ghost's love for Soap- though she was beginning to guess it, and if she had, perhaps she would have chosen her words more carefully. But as it were, social relations had never been Fairy's strong suit.


    But she still found herself putting distance between her and Ghost, who was seeming to grow angrier by the minute. But she couldn't hide from Ghost, not like she could from John; they were both spirits, both in the void, and both within sight distance of each other. Even if she tried, it still didn't save her from an attack. She could see Ghost's agitation- deer were always perceptive as animals of prey to when something might attack, perhaps too much so. She stood still, trying to make herself a smaller target. But there was nothing she could say to the conversation.


    Was she perhaps hurt that John hadn't spoken to her fully about his life? No, in truth. His life was a complicated jumble of a human and animal life, of military operations and things that John likely never wanted to speak about again. She could understand that. What she did know was minimal, mostly spoken after one of his nightmares, but that didn't bother her. Even if it was his cross to bear, she could't force the information out of him. If he had wanetd to tell her, he would have. Then John laughed, and her gaze snapped back at that sound.


    "Please, enough- don't fight.." she whispered out, knowing that she was only painting a brighter target on herself if Ghost was serious about his actions. "I never meant... to insult you, Leftenant... I'm sorry that I have. L-look I don't... know what either of y-you are talking about a-anymore, B-but if it makes you feel b-better I can go..."

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    It seemed Azazel had a sharp mind to know that something was wrong. Fairylights wasn't back- not in this body, though Azazel's work had done enough to pull her spirit from the depths and force her into the void- a world between the living and death, a faint apparition that was stuck, and couldn't get herself out, all because an attempt had been made to break the balance of the world; to pull her spirit from Helios' grasp. But that was hardly Azazel's fault, was it? She just wanted to see Fairylights alive and well again, and who could blame them for that when Fairy had such an unfortunate death to begin with?


    In whatever the case, Fairy's spirit was not strong enough to re-take the form of a body. Or, perhaps the ritual did not go as intended. Was there a part of her here, now, standing in this body that had never been her own? Perhaps a small shred, a small connection to her in wherever she might be. There were more faces gathering around her now, all of them with looks of shock painted across their face it was almost like a horrified Renaissance picture. 'The Monstrous Deer'. Yes, perhaps that is what it would be called in later times. The voice calling out her name made her turn once more. Fairylights. 

    Her gaze leveled with Azazel, and the larger deer that Azazel had found to be a vessel stepped forward in front of the Witch, daring to step close and stare Azazel down, challenging them in a way that was unlike the skittish little deer Azazel thought she had brought back. The deer's mouth opened as if to form words, the blood at its neck still dripping, and after one long moment, it hissed. It was not a voice, nor any words, but a hiss like a wraith as the creature's head whirled around to look at each person in turn. The deer's ears flicked in warning, still animal enough to know that being surrounded was never a good thing- especially for an animal of prey. Its legs were awkward and uneven in its gait, its attempt to pull itself out of the pentagram and the objects they were surrounded by. Perhaps they didn't feel threatened, not yet, but they weren't about to put themselves in a position where they could be.

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    Fairy stood up uneasily, rising to her ghostly hooves as she put distance between her and John. Maybe that was for the best, right now- then again, she wasn't sure what to do with Ghost and John yelling at each other. It was clear she didn't belong here at the moment, but she knew that leaving would make Soap angrier- and ghost even more angry that John was angry that she had left- it was all a very confusing situation for the deer. She was touched that John had stood up to protect her, though she did not point out that Ghost could just... move right through him. She didn't think Ghost would attack her, right? He had a reason to, maybe, but he wouldn't dare... Still, her form flickered further and further, stepping back further away from John and Ghost, unsure of what to do. This wasn't her conversation to fight.

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    Well, this was awkward. Fairy didn't know what to do now, now that John came out and stated their relationship- though did John really consider her his girlfriend still even though she was dead? After all this time? Then again, she hadn't thought to ask how long she'd been gone. She didn't know. But now was hardly the time. Instead, her ears pinned back as she lowered her head, her form dimming as if she were trying to hide herself- though she knew that was impossible since Ghost was a spirit too- she couldn't really hide from him, at least not to her knowledge. She still had only barely figured out how to make herself appear, and that was only likely because Soap had some greater inclination to spirits than others. "I-i'm sure he didn't... m-mean any disrespect t-to you, leftenant," Fairy would state as gingerly as she could, though her voice had gone meek and quiet. She didn't want to start an argument or a fight, and certainly not over something like this. Especially not when Ghost could likely still attack her, if he felt so inclined, and John wouldn't be able to stop either of them. "I-i'm sorry if I caused any d-deal of... of... harm."

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    Fairy gave a faint smile at Ghost's words, trying to remain friendly all the while, while she was certain now that Ghost wanted nothing to do with her. "Mm," she would agree faintly to Ghost's words, trying to encourage him on; not responding to Ghost's previous statements regarding her. Neither of them knew eachother- even Fairy only knew him through the vauge stories that John had once told her. They were strangers. She most of all, since the two had been friends longer than Fairy and John had been dating. "Go for it, John.."

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    "It's too late to think of what could have been," she said as gently as she could, wishing there was more that she could do- wishing she could be near him- with him, again, and only led to feel frustration and guilt and hurt that it was all she could do to stand there while he cried, unable to do anything. "I understand why you left. No one... expected that what happened would... happen. I didn't expect to... We're here now, John... And whatever blessed me to be here, I won't waste it.."

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