farrowday | OPEN PROMPT POST

[He's definitely settling in here as time goes by. The other ghosts are still standoffish, but weren't people the same way with him when he was alive? No one's ever really trusted him, and even now that he can only burn Ryan, the flames are enough to create a barrier around him when combined with his temper and unstable nature.

The odd thing is that Ryan does trust him. He wasn't fazed when he got burned, not beyond the actual pain of it. He wasn't fazed by the story of John's tempestuous life when it finally came, from problem child to street kid to disenfranchised student to terrorist. Or if he has been fazed, he at least hasn't started treating John any differently. He's remarkably tolerant, and although it's probably just because John's no danger to the world anymore - he is still a danger to Ryan. A personal risk, and Ryan doesn't bat an eye about it.

It's weird. And intriguing. Something he never found in life, at least not for long; even Bobby was always full of warnings and admonishments about John's behaviour, and Magneto encouraged him for his own needs rather than out of any kind of acceptance (something it took him far, far too long to realize.)

Pretending to sleep is probably a pretty dumb form of subterfuge for a ghost, but when Ryan enters the living room while John's sprawled out on the couch, he still closes his eyes and puts on the act. Or slits them, anyway, watching the tall, gangly man move about as subtly as he can.

Intriguing.]

[He's found John intriguing in his own way, really. Understanding his motivations went a long way toward feeling like he actually gets the guy-- and Ryan's come away with the impression that he's someone the world failed, more than being a problem in his own right. That's something he can't fault him for. It had gotten him killed, brought him to an early death (as most tempestuous lives do), and Ryan's role has been, since he realized it, helping people who aren't here through any fault of their own.

He always gets attached, though, he can't help it. They move on sometimes, just as living people die, but the knowledge a ghost might not always be around has never kept him from closeness. It's just the kind of person he is: when he opens doors, it's all the way or not at all. He opens his home to them, his life, gives them his attention and aid when they need it-- there's not much else one can give a ghost, after all. John's the one he's closest to, who spends the most time with him and talks with him, and in a way he's been giving Ryan what he needed but never asks for as well. He never asks anything of them, really.

Ryan's spent too long around people who don't need to sleep to be fooled when he spots John on the couch-- some of them do like to rest though, close their eyes and let their minds drift like they're trying to go to sleep, so he doesn't bother to call him out on it. Instead he stops in front of the couch, reaching down to give John's shoulder a light nudge.]

-hey. Give me a little room, here?

[Busted.

When he gets that nudge to his shoulder, he does sit up, but not facing forward - his body's still parallel to the back of the couch, which makes it pretty clear that he plans to lie right back down when Ryan is seated. Ever since the first time he touched Ryan, the light finger up his spine, he's looked at him just a little bit differently. Not just mentally or emotionally, but physically.

It's probably way too weird even for this guy, what he contemplates sometimes. He's still a ghost, still dead. But thanks to the nature of his life, pubescent years spent in a fight for survival and later ones either trapped in a fishbowl full of people with repellent values or in an actual war, he died a virgin. It's not something he wants to talk about, ever, but Ryan's reaction to that touch stirred something brand new in him because even touches that he found exciting in his life (playful, boyish nudges back and forth, aggressively platonic wrestling matches) were never reciprocated. He was the master of wanting what he could never, ever have.

And now, he probably still is. But if Ryan goes for it, damnit, he's lying with his head on his lap.]

Get comfy, 'cause I'm going to.

[That definitely gives him pause. He can see what John's getting at here, and it throws him off-- for a few moments he looks a little bewildered, and when it sinks in it brings a faint flush to his cheeks that he tries hard to ignore. Ryan hasn't missed that the guy's attractive, but- well. He never asks anything of them, and it extends to things like affection. He'll give it where it seems to be wanted, but his own desires have always stayed quiet. What if it's weird for them, what if they don't want to be tied to someone still alive?

John's not the only one who's good at wanting things he can't have, though in Ryan's case it's all his own doing. He doesn't know he couldn't have them, but he's too afraid to find out.

He decides to go for it eventually, taking a seat in the space John's left clear for him and giving him an almost hesitant look-- one that says all too clearly he isn't sure he'd been serious.]

[Is Ryan blushing?

God, he is. It must be weird for him, John suddenly realizes, ghosts being just like people except dead. Maybe the boundaries get crossed in his head, too. Maybe it's mean to play with him like this out of nothing but curiosity.

And after that unscheduled moment of empathy, John promptly lies back down. Head in Ryan's lap. He shifts a bit to get comfortable just as promised, shoulders inching down until Ryan's bony legs make something of a pillow, then closes his eyes again. Fully this time, just feeling what this is like. This kind of contact.

It's not bad.]

I know you know this, but you need to get out more. You're always around here. Doesn't it mess with you, only ever seeing ghosts? [This isn't quite a test, but it is a light prod for more information. Just where the boundaries actually lie.]

[It's not a type of contact Ryan's used to either, and it takes him a moment to actually relax. One arm drapes over the back of the couch, the other on the armrest; John may be making himself comfortable, and he may kind of want to settle a hand in his hair, but he's too uncertain to do it yet.]

You guys aren't that different from living people, you know. Besides, being out messes with me more.

[His tone says it's meant to be joking; his expression, if John's looking, says this is not a comfortable subject. He continues, though.]

...being the same is kind of the problem. Y'know how I can touch you? I don't-- there's literally no difference for me. You look alive. Unless they happen to walk through something I can't tell who out there is living and who isn't.

[He does open his eyes curiously, and the expression surprises him before Ryan elaborates.]

Shit. [His brow furrows a bit.] I always wondered what manifesting was like for a telepath. Suddenly you can hear what everyone's thinking - how do you know you're not just nuts all of a sudden? Do you know? If you can impel people, when d'you figure out why people are all doing what you want all the time, or is that normal to you?

[It's his way of saying he understands. Putting it in terms he gets. You're living in a completely different reality.]

When did it happen? As long as you can remember?

Grew up with it, yeah.

[He'd known John would understand. It's why he's bothering to explain in the first place. A lot of people don't know what it's like to be different; some understand it happens but simply can't believe that seeing things is just as possible as telekinesis, and when he was little abilities like that weren't all over the news. Known, but not the first conclusion.]

And you don't know, not until you can manage to prove it to yourself well enough that you can ignore what anyone else says, because there's no way to prove it to them. A telepath can get in their head but how are you ever gonna prove you see dead people? You can go to a place you've never heard of in your life and tell them the name of the ghost you're talking to, all kinds of details about them, and they'll say you researched it first. That they somehow managed to pick a place you knew the history of. They're never going to believe anything they can't see.

You never met another one?

[It's actually enough to sober his playful mood, distract him from his casual attempts at - whatever he's doing. Is this seduction? Teasing? He doesn't really know.

But now it's forgotten, because there were always other mutants. Not another pyrokinetic, not that he met, but certainly others who had the constant presence of their power in their head. Like Callisto, always registering the power levels of mutants around her and even ones from great distances if they were strong enough. Control was only an option up to a point with some mutations, like he'd tried to tell Ryan - when you had no off switch, and the knowledge all pointed to destruction, action was nearly impossible to avoid.

Ryan, though, he had no context. No frame of reference. And the whole idea's written off as crazy by most people.]

So that's your control. Hiding. [It's not said with the slightest bit of judgment. He doesn't know what he'd do.]

...yeah. Kind of is.

[He shrugs, shifts uncomfortably, reaching up to brush stray curls from his face in an anxious little gesture.]

I've talked to others who say they can see the same things, just- only online. There's not many of us, and none of them have it as strong as I do. They can hide it.

[And there's a definite note of envy in his voice, there. Even the others are never going to fully get it, it's as simple as 'don't talk to transparent people in public' for them.]

[John watches that gesture carefully - he'd kind of like to touch Ryan's hair at some point. Apparently he's got a thing for curly blonde hair.

Something odd passes across his face at that thought, almost a wince, but it's gone quickly.]

I've met three blue people. One who could change it and didn't. The other two - one was furry and one had a tail.

[It's not the most solid point given what he's already established, though, and his gaze shifts again right after he's said it.]

Then again, there were three of them. At least.

[He's had his eyes mostly averted, the way John watches him doesn't quite get caught-- but that near-wince of an expression does, even if he isn't sure what to do with it.

Or with the words, either. Ryan understands what he's saying, but taking reassurance rather than giving it is wholly unfamiliar. In the end, he decides not to try to force it, and finally lets his arm drop from the back of the couch to fold onto John's shoulder instead. Long, delicate fingers stroke tentatively over his hair, not quite running through it like he wants-- seeing how the touch is taken, first.]

...I'm okay with what I have. At least I've got something I can do with it.

[His eyes widen a little when Ryan's hand drops onto his head, then immediately close when he starts stroking his hair, a little sigh escaping through parted lips. Oh, that's nice. That's nicer than he would've expected. It's not like his heartrate can go up or his skin can prickle, but he still feels it all through his body, and it's - really nice.]

Must get lonely, though.

[Something he never would've admitted in his life - that he can understand and empathize with loneliness. It was his most constant companion, really.]

...I guess it does.

[The admission's a little hesitant, and it isn't something he'd tell any of the others-- but John comes to him, talks to him more often, keeps him company in a way most of them don't.

His touch is less tentative when John accepts it, fingers combing through his hair instead of simply running over it, and he relaxes a bit.]

Just- not all the time.

[Not now, is the implication.]

[He actually lets out a quiet murmur when Ryan's hand shifts again; he can't decide if it's relaxing or arousing, or some strange combination of both, but that feels even better. Without realizing it, he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and bites down lightly on it, just drinking in the sensation of being - caressed, really.

What a strange thing not to feel until after you've died.]

Why am I here? [It's a quiet question, one he's avoided for awhile now but finally has to know.] What - makes a ghost?

[God, but that just makes him look even more attractive-

It's a thought Ryan tries to stifle, but it's true. He'd never really noticed that his mouth looks like it'd be really nice to kiss, not until John inadvertently drew attention to it... but his question pulls Ryan's focus away in a way he hadn't quite been able to do himself.

The attention doesn't stop, but it's slower, more intentionally soothing.]

I don't know.

[Apologetically, without really needing to add I'm sorry out loud.]

It's- not different for everyone, but there's different reasons. Some people want revenge on whoever, or whatever, killed them. Others have connections here that're strong enough to hold them back. They're just not done, somehow, that's... it's usually what it is.

Edited 2014-11-14 05:00 (UTC)

Unfinished business. [His mouth curls a little, unpleasantly.] My whole life is unfinished business.

[What is it? Anger at Magneto for being such a disappointment, one for whom he threw his whole life away? Bobby, for inadvertently killing him instead of doing it the honest way? All the way back to his parents, for starting him down the bitter road that led to his death? He doesn't even know.

It's certainly not a connection to someone, unless -]

I never had a strong connection. [It's so strange how their conversations can do this, draw intimate things out of him because they just don't seem to matter anymore. No one other than Ryan knows that he still exists, so what power could they hold?] Not a two-way one.

[He's wondering if that's why he's so attuned to Ryan. If it wasn't a need for something that was, that had been, but something that never was.]

...it kind of makes sense in your case, honestly.

[The hesitation never entirely left, it rarely does- but it's stronger at points, and this is one of them. Maybe it's too much of an assumption, too invasive.]

With what you've said, I mean. It sounds like-

[Ryan has to stop to take a calming breath there, because the reason they're here really is a big conclusion to draw about someone; even if it's obvious, putting it into words isn't always something they want to hear.]

It sounds like you never got to live the way you wanted. That everything kind of fell through, you weren't ever really happy with it, and- then you died early. Didn't get a chance to change that. [And then he moves on to a question, almost abruptly:] If you'd gotten to decide, would you have been ready to go? Or would you have decided to stay?

[Having his life laid out so neatly and concisely - a series of events that were never quite what he wanted - hurts. It hurts in that irritating way that isn't because it brings offense, isn't due to an insult or a deliberate attack, but because it resonates so deeply. It'd be self-pity if he said it, but someone else coming to that conclusion just hammers the point home.

There's a clear struggle with what Ryan's said, before he just decides to answer the question.]

I don't know what I'm staying for. [And his expression softens a bit here.] But it's not bad.

Edited 2014-11-14 05:39 (UTC)

[Ryan peers down at him almost worriedly-- shit, it was too much, wasn't it, he should've kept his mouth shut-- but when John finally answers, when his expression softens, he manages a tiny smile. The pad of his thumb brushes at John's cheekbone, in an affectionate gesture he just can't keep suppressed.]

...so long as you don't mind being here. Or- here, specifically. I kind of worry you're gonna get bored and leave.

[His cheek curves upward a little when it's touched, a tiny smile. That's definitely a caress, and he doesn't mind that much. Not really at all.]

Well, yeah, I am bored. Being dead is boring. But what am I gonna do anywhere else? I'll still be dead. At least here I've got living company.

-you could still have other company, though. I mean. There's always other ghosts, you're not...

[Another pause, biting his lip while he searches for the words he wants. That answer's still a little bit worrying-- if he really is bored, maybe he will want to go.]

You're not stuck here, is what I'm getting at.

Did you even hear anything I said about my life when I told you?

[His smile broadens, warms just a bit.]

I've never stayed anywhere I didn't want to be.

[That seems to soothe his nerves; he exhales a breath he hadn't quite realized he was holding, giving him a small, sheepish smile.]

...okay, point. I just don't-

[Don't want you to leave.

His fingers comb through John's hair once more, threading into it at the nape of his neck and resting there.]

You're the only one who really spends that much time with me.

They're all probably used to it by now, right? Being dead?

[He finally sits up again and turns to face Ryan, crouched on his haunches on the couch to lean in quite close.]

You don't get it. You're still alive. That's - not to trash any of my fellow ghosts out there, but that's different. You're alive and you can see me. [His turn to touch Ryan's hair, at last, toying with a curl near his temple.] You can touch me. I can touch you. I'm not just gonna give up on living people yet.

[Which makes it sound like it doesn't matter who John would've ended up with, and that's not totally true.]

And it worked out that you're actually cool, so yeah, I've got nowhere else I'm planning to go.

ghost-verse shipping because of the picture

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