eswareinmal | And above all, no wishing for more wishes

Characters: Rupert Giles and YOU!
Open? Oh, yes.
Where: All around Schwanheim and the surrounding farmland
When: All day 2nd of Rebirth's Decline
What: Giles is stuck in a bottle. Giles would very much like to let out of the bottle. Giles will grant you a wish should you let him out of the bottle. And if you don't want a messed up poltergeist throwing furniture around, you should probably take him up on that.
Warnings: PG - Mayhem and chaos, but probably nothing much worse.
A bottle catches your eye, as you go about your business

It might be sitting on the dresser of your room, on a windowsill as you walk down the street, or just laying in the grass as though carelessly discarded. It seems, in all aspects, to be a perfectly ordinary bottle...except, well, you probably know by now that it's never a perfectly ordinary anything. For one thing, it seems to contain something, a swirling white mist that seems to move throughout the bottle like a living thing, trapped and testing the walls of its prisons. For another, well, for those who can sense it there's an undeniable spark of power about the bottle, a sense of magic, something that just makes it stand out. And for a third, it's just quite a nice bottle.

Maybe it was left here just for you to find. How else can you explain how it wound up here, just where you happened to look at this very instant, sitting just where it needed to catch your eye?

Go on, pick it up. It will fit nicely in your pocket (even if you don't currently have any pockets) and a bottle is a useful sort of thing to have around, isn't it?

Well, once it's empty. Maybe you should uncork it and shoo that strange mist out, first. Can't tell what it might do to whatever you put inside, otherwise.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I know you are."

It's just that it's a trap, Faolan. It's a complete and utter trap.

But, almost as a warning to Giles and his hesitation, an almighty ripping sound can be heard nearby. A glance will be enough to see blades of grass ripping themselves out of the ground in great hunks, hard enough to tear the roots out as well. Giles seems to wilt just a bit at the sight.

Oh, fine.

"Is, um, is there anything you'd like, Faolan?"

Faolan was briefly distracted by the grass carnage, but turned back to Giles when asked the question.

"Yes," he answered candidly. "Faolan wants to play, but Hawk is busy and don't know where Loki or Gretel are. Can Giles play?"

Giles shakes his head, smiling in sympathy. "I'm afraid not, Faolan," he says. "Or, um, at least not very well. Remember?" Here he runs a hand under the ground and then back up. A benefit, of a sort, of utter intangibility.

He can still see the grass twisting itself up over Faolan's shoulder, however. And so Giles is forced to think. "Um...but, Faolan, i-if you're really in need of someone to play with, I can probably help you find someone."

Faolan looked sad at that. Poor Giles.

"Poor Giles," he repeated out loud. "Must not be fun being like that. I wish you could play."

Glingleingleingleingleingle.

A sound like the tinkling of fairy bells surrounds them. Giles looks around, startled, and then he winces in dismay. "Oh, dammit, you did..."

He makes to stand. "Faolan, um, I-I'm afraid I wasn't able to, to fully explain the situation, so if you'll just..."

...and then he stops.

Sensation isn't entirely unfamiliar to Giles, like this. When he's possessing someone, and a couple of people have given their permission thus far, then he can interact with the world, and feel things, albeit at a severely muted level unless he takes full control of the body.

But this is different. This is him, and his hands resting against the grass, and his weight, and his lungs and his heartbeat and and and and...

"Good lord..."

It isn't every day that you get to watch someone become physical, and Faolan watched in awe. He wriggled closer, reaching out a hand. "Giles?"

It isn't every day that you get to become physical. When Faolan reaches out, he'll be able to touch Giles' shoulder. There's really a person here, now.

Giles even starts slightly when Faolan touches him. But the physical contact brings him back to himself. So, sorry, kiddo, but you're getting a hug. Right now.

Oh, a hug! Faolan wriggles happily, returning it.

The kid is released after a few seconds, when Giles remembers to do so. And then Giles just...sits, and stares up at the sky, and thinks.

This is temporary. He knows it is. Not least because he can still feel himself "attached" to Faolan, and that's a power only a ghost should have. If he thinks about it, Giles is sure he'll notice other signs. But this is temporary.

...better make the best of it, then. He takes a breath, and nods.

"S-So. Um. W-What did you want to play?"

Hmm. This requires some thought. Giles is old, so he probably can't play chase too well. And Hawk is the best to wrestle with, and again, Giles is old. So what to play?

"Giles can throw things for Faolan to chase? And we can roll in the grass!"

Rolling is fun! And so is fetch! Giles will have fun!

Giles is old. Giles also fights demons and has survived a couple of wars, but it's kind of hard to demonstrate that other side of yourself when you've spent nearly a week as a ghost.

He looks a bit surprised at these suggestions. Does Faolan really want to play fetch?

...one look at his face is enough to confirm that he actually does. All right, then.

"That sounds perfect. Um..." Here he gets to his feet, dusting some dirt off of his knees. "Let me just, um, find something to throw..."

Faolan bounds to his feet, hopping around Giles to help him. He's been a ghost. He might need help with walking. Faolan can hold his hand and point out good things to throw and catch.

Having weight and mass again is taking some getting used to. He's only been a ghost for several days, but damned if they weren't a long and busy several days where itwas adapting or unpleasantness. So, he'll let Faolan hold his hand. And, after some searching, he'll dig up a half burned branch, remnant of some long cold firepit.

"Will this do?" he asks, holding it up for Faolan to see.

"Yes, Giles!" Faolan claps his hands and bounces. "Watch me run! Watch me catch!"

"I'm certain it will be impressive."

Here's the windup...and the pitch! The stick goes sailing over the grass and into the distance. "Fetch!"

Faolan hares off after it. In a push for speed, he unthinkingly changes into a puppy, body darting forward more. He bunches his legs and gives a leap, catching the stick long before it hits the ground.

Turning, he runs back to Giles, holding the stick up and wagging his tail as he waits for praise.

...that was impressive.

In hindsight, there were probably a great many signs, but werewolves have always been low on Giles' list of potential threats. It never crossed his mind, and yet, as Faolan smoothly transitions from one shape to the other, it...makes a great deal of sense.

Even so, Faolan can expect a good bit of staring as he trots back over, before Giles shakes himself out of it and bends down to pat Faolan on the head.

"Good boy," he says, reaching out to take the stick. "Very fast, for your size. Um, very impressive."

Oh! He is being praised and petted! Faolan's tail wags harder and he moves closer to rub against Giles' leg.

More, grandpa? More? He crouches down playfully, barking once.

And above all, no wishing for more wishes

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