Post by Manslaughter on Nov 14, 2007 4:06:50 GMT
(Nother Halloween special. Roger's first year anniversary in the BH! I know it's late.. so sue me.)
"Ghost in here..?"
Tugging open the flaps, Roger stands on his toes, peeking inside the dank, recesses of a box long-forgotten in the most distant corner. Junky treasures are all he finds, but not a ghost.
Wiping the dust from his hands, Roger takes another look around the attic as the floorboards groan beneath his feet. He'd heard the sounds of something above him the night before, scouring the attic for something they'd lost and apparently had not found. It only makes sense that a ghost would come out on Halloween, joining the ranks of the spirits that ran wild at the end of every October.
Tracking trails of dust as he drags his feet across the floor, Roger starts at another corner of the attic, poking a box here and there, sometimes asking if Mr. Ghost is home. If he had been, there is no sign of him, no ectoplasm lying in puddles around.
Even after Magneto had left their world and gone to another, Roger comes back, looking for him sometimes, sitting up for a few hours in the night and hoping he has merely become some part of the attic, and reappears only in the early hours of the morning. Eric and Mr. Ghost could very well be one and the same, although it appears logically more appropriate for someone like Eric to haunt his own quarters, not the musty clubhouse headquarters of a psychotic child. Still, it never hurts to check every corner.
Skidding almost on his knees as he slides to the opening in the floor to the second floor, Roger peers down the ladder, seeing no one at the base, but announcing,"No ghost!", to anyone that might be listening, or on the watch like him for any supernatural activity.
Drawing back up into the attic, he pulls his legs out from beneath him, tugging at his shoelaces and kicking his sneakers off without warning until they either fall straight to the floor or tumble and thud loudly down the ladder. His socks follow, one blue and striped that has multiple holes in it, and the other green and decorated in snowmen. How Roger had managed to accumulate such socks is a mystery--such as many other things he has in his possession.
Silently, he disappears back into the attic to do some more ghost hunting.
"Ghost in here..?"
Tugging open the flaps, Roger stands on his toes, peeking inside the dank, recesses of a box long-forgotten in the most distant corner. Junky treasures are all he finds, but not a ghost.
Wiping the dust from his hands, Roger takes another look around the attic as the floorboards groan beneath his feet. He'd heard the sounds of something above him the night before, scouring the attic for something they'd lost and apparently had not found. It only makes sense that a ghost would come out on Halloween, joining the ranks of the spirits that ran wild at the end of every October.
Tracking trails of dust as he drags his feet across the floor, Roger starts at another corner of the attic, poking a box here and there, sometimes asking if Mr. Ghost is home. If he had been, there is no sign of him, no ectoplasm lying in puddles around.
Even after Magneto had left their world and gone to another, Roger comes back, looking for him sometimes, sitting up for a few hours in the night and hoping he has merely become some part of the attic, and reappears only in the early hours of the morning. Eric and Mr. Ghost could very well be one and the same, although it appears logically more appropriate for someone like Eric to haunt his own quarters, not the musty clubhouse headquarters of a psychotic child. Still, it never hurts to check every corner.
Skidding almost on his knees as he slides to the opening in the floor to the second floor, Roger peers down the ladder, seeing no one at the base, but announcing,"No ghost!", to anyone that might be listening, or on the watch like him for any supernatural activity.
Drawing back up into the attic, he pulls his legs out from beneath him, tugging at his shoelaces and kicking his sneakers off without warning until they either fall straight to the floor or tumble and thud loudly down the ladder. His socks follow, one blue and striped that has multiple holes in it, and the other green and decorated in snowmen. How Roger had managed to accumulate such socks is a mystery--such as many other things he has in his possession.
Silently, he disappears back into the attic to do some more ghost hunting.
