![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
This is probably old news now for most, but we are getting Play Arts figures of KH Cloud and Seph! X3 **has known for several days, after Lisa found pics, but hasn't had time to blog.**
And according to Angelflare, the release date for the CC Play Arts has been set to February. X3 CDJapan has them on pre-order, but for $37. **anime fall.** I'm hoping to find them elsewhere at a price comparable to the other Play Arts figures.
I had a weird dream involving Rockapella wandering through a cemetery. And Double Trouble was there as well. LOL. So ... a blurb happened. I plan to make this a full fic, but if I don't get to that, this blurb is nice and creepy for Halloween. X3 The cemetery is entirely inspired by a real one, save for the nasty thing floating around, of course.
(And I actually have advanced some on Diamond Rose Glass. I know basically where the rest of the chapter is going, too. Nancy Drew will be a large inspiration.)
Fictional Rockapella, loves. ♥
Elliott's eyes narrowed as he wandered around a hill with cobblestones set in the side of it. This was one of the most intricate cemeteries he had ever explored. Or maybe it was the most intricate; tramping through cemeteries was not a big hobby of his. It was really ridiculous that they were all lost in it now; all they had wanted was a shortcut, and instead this was one of the longest cuts they could have possibly taken. He would be sure to remind the others of this the next time they thought crossing a cemetery would be faster than taking a normal path.
Grass and leaves crackled somewhere behind him. He stiffened, whirling to look. But the spot was empty. None of the others were there.
He crossed his arms in annoyance. "Okay, Sean, is this another one of your pranks?" he asked the night. There was no place for Sean to hide, unless he had dived behind the large monument to the right.
A low, eerie whistle answered him. Either it was the slight breeze picking up, or Sean was indeed trying to play a prank. He had already made Scott jump nearly out of his shoes upon their first realization that they were lost in the cemetery, by hiding behind a tree and suddenly grabbing Scott's shoulder. He either found it a huge joke that they were stranded in a cemetery, or else he was trying to make the others see it that way. But after having been here as long as they had been, Elliott was not in the mood to make a joke of it.
Annoyed now, the brunet slipped around the tombstone he was standing by. Two could play at this game. If Sean wanted to play tricks, then Elliott would give him a taste of his own medicine. Was that a slight movement next to the other monument? He crept forward, making sure not to step on any leaves or twigs.
Icy fingers reached under his dark curls, touching the back of his neck. Instantly he stiffened. That was not Sean.
"Who dares to play on my grave?" a cruel voice hissed.
Elliott whirled to face his assailant. Still nothing. But now the air around him was cold, nipping at his cheeks and hands.
"I'm not playing on anyone's grave," he retorted. "As soon as I find the others, we're leaving. Then you won't have anything to worry about."
"Foolish boy," the invisible spectre said. "You have already trespassed. The only way to leave is through death!"
Unseen hands gripped at his shoulders, digging through his dress shirt and into his flesh. He gritted his teeth, pain shooting into his body. If this thing could touch him, why couldn't he touch it? Struggling to raise his hands, he clawed at the phantom's limbs. His hands only passed through thin air. And a frozen numbness was beginning to spread through his arms. They dropped limply to his sides.
At the same moment he was thrust to the side, the monument only too happy to make his acquaintance. The last thing he remembered was the splitting agony of the stone connecting with the side of his head.
****
Scott was uneasy.
They had already been here for far too long---over an hour, according to his watch. And now they had all gotten lost from each other. Possibly more disturbing was that his comb phone would not work. It was just like it had been in Egypt, with something jamming the signal. There was a chance it was just his phone that was malfunctioning, but he doubted it.
There was something unsettling about the entire place. Everything seemed so dark and desolate. Even the white lights from the lamps on the block corners appeared much more dim than they should. Was there some kind of film or fog over the entire cemetery? That sounded ridiculous, and yet with their luck, and their misadventure in Egypt, it did not seem as impossible as it once might have.
The tombstones just ahead looked more modern. Was that a good thing? Maybe it meant there was an exit close by. Not that it mattered. As long as he was without the other three, he was not leaving.
As he rounded a corner, he slammed into someone else. A stunned yelp left his lips as he stumbled back, pushing up his hat as it fell forward over his eyes.
"Whoa! You pack a pretty big wallop!" a familiar voice informed him.
"Sean!" Scott exclaimed, seeing the taller man looking back at him. "Where have you been, man?!"
"I was going to ask you that," Sean replied, crossing his arms. "You disappeared right after Elliott did! And then I lost Barry somewhere back there." He glanced around as if to make sure they were alone. "Finding them isn't even our biggest problem now."
Scott stared at him. "What do you mean?" he frowned.
"We're not the only ones here!" Sean told him. "I saw Double Trouble a while ago. They were wandering around acting lost themselves."
"Double Trouble?" Scott repeated, incredulous. "We're lost in a cemetery with Double Trouble?!"
"It looks that way." Sean sighed. "I tried following them, but when they went over that hill into the new part I couldn't keep up. They disappeared somewhere around the section where there's a lot of Chinese and Korean graves."
"Oh, well, that's just great," Scott said. "I wonder if they've stolen something."
"We'll never know as long as our phones are on the fritz." Sean looked to the left, his braids sweeping out and then falling against the side of his neck. "Have you poked around over there?" he wondered, indicating an older part of the cemetery.
Scott shook his head. "I was going to check out the new part to see if there was an exit," he said. "Then we'd at least know somewhere to go when we find the others."
"There isn't an exit," Sean said. "There's just a chainlink fence, and a bad drop on the other side."
Scott frowned, looking in that direction. Aided by the dim lights of the streetlamps ahead, he could just make out a grave marker that was tall and triangular shaped. One side of it was jagged.
He sighed, looking away. "Okay," he said, "let's look through the older part."
He walked alongside Sean as they began to move in that direction. The last thing he wanted to do was to lose track of the other again. They needed to stay together. And in this cemetery, it was far too easy to become separated.
"Where did you lose Barry?" he asked.
"It was over near a really big angel statue," Sean said. "I was just looking around and when I turned back, he was gone."
Scott glanced to the side. Barry and Elliott would not have been . . . spirited away, would they? That sounded off-the-wall even considering everything else they had seen, but maybe it wasn't. Or maybe he was just letting his imagination get away from him because of the eerie atmosphere here. He turned back, just in time to nearly be smacked by a gnarled claw. His mouth dropped open in disbelief, but almost instantly realization dawned. It was a tree branch. Shaking his head, he moved to the side.
He was just being ridiculous. He and Sean were both here. There was no reason why the others would not be, especially if Double Trouble was there. Surely the spirits would get angrier at those crooks than they would at Rockapella. Of course, if Double Trouble had not stolen anything and were just aimlessly wandering, too . . . well, it really depended on how much the ghosts disliked visitors in general.
". . . Do you think Barry and Elliott are alright?" Scott said at last.
"Sure," Sean replied. "Why wouldn't they be? This place is so big they must just be wandering here and there and everywhere."
"I guess. . . ." But now Scott was only half-listening. This older section was so mysterious. Several sections, likely family plots, had cast-iron fences all the way around them. Inside, the grass was long and unruly. Apparently, since the spaces were not big enough to accommodate lawn mowers, nothing had been done at all. Maybe the old locks on the gates would not even open anymore.
The trees were very tall and old, stretching high above them and into the dark sky. Even the tallest of the monuments came nowhere near the trees' height. But their size was still impressive, anyway. They must belong to important and wealthy locals. Scott paused to gawk at one whitish-gray slab that had to stand at least fifteen feet, if not higher.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say this place goes on forever," Sean said.
"It feels like it does," Scott sighed. "And is it just me or is it darker here than it even should be?"
Sean shoved his hands in his pockets. "It isn't just you," he said. "Where's a really good flashlight when you need one?"
"I wonder if even a really good one would work here tonight," Scott muttered.
As they turned the next corner, Scott's eyes widened in surprise. A figure was wandering among the gravestones on the next block. Then it paused somewhere near the center, as if seeing something. Had Scott and Sean been sighted? No, the figure was beginning to bend down next to one of the monuments, a dark hat falling forward on the person's head.
"Hey," Scott said in realization, "isn't that Barry?"
Sean perked up. "I think so," he said. He hastened forward, crossing the road to the next block. Scott hurried after him, not bothering to worry wondering if dashing over the graves was disrespectful to the dead.
His heart leaped into his throat as the full scene came into view. The figure was indeed Barry, and he was bending over a lifeless form sprawled on the ground. Having heard the others running through the grass, he had briefly glanced up but then had returned his attention to the body.
"Elliott!" Scott gasped. Flying the rest of the distance, he crashed to his knees by their fallen friend. Elliott was slumped in a mostly prone position, facing away from them. He did not stir as Scott laid a frantic hand on his shoulder, and from Barry's expression, Elliott had not moved when Barry had arrived, either.
Scott gripped tighter at the slackened shoulder. "El . . . what happened to you?" he spoke, his voice clearly reflecting his disbelief and horror.
Sean fell to his knees as well, alarmed at the sight. "Is he . . . ?" He could not bring himself to finish the sentence.
Barry shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted, his tone and expression grim. "I tried to feel for a pulse, but I couldn't find it. His skin's like ice."
"Ice . . . ?" Scott swallowed a cottonball in his throat as he began to turn Elliott to face him. The brunet fell into position, his head turning to the left. A gasp left Scott's lips. Elliott's flesh was almost whitish-blue in color. His eyes were closed, with no indication that they would open any time soon. His hands shaking, Scott grabbed Elliott's wrist to search for a pulse. The cold chill that swept through him nearly made him drop Elliott's hand back to the grass.
"What's wrong with him?!" Scott cried, clutching the frigid hand. "It's like he's . . . he's frozen alive!" If he was alive. . . .
Sean reached out, touching the sculpture next to them. An involuntary shiver went down his spine.
"I've got the feeling that whoever's buried here wasn't a nice person," he exclaimed, pulling his hand back.
"Then maybe getting Elliott away from here would help?!" Scott suggested, panic-stricken as he stared down at the lifeless form. Elliott had been fine the last time Scott had seen him. He couldn't be beyond help now. That was unthinkable!
"Maybe," Sean said, frankly disturbed and confused by the situation.
Without warning Elliott stirred, a moan slipping from his lips as he forced his eyes open. He blinked, trying to focus as Scott stared down at him.
"El!" he exclaimed, relief and joy washing over him. "Are you okay?!"
Elliott blinked again, then winced, a hand slowly moving to his head. "Ow," he hissed. "Something hit me . . . or . . . no, I hit something. . . ." He grimaced, his fingers locating the cruel bump. "Something threw me into something. . . ."
"Like the person who's buried here?" Sean frowned.
". . . It was some ghost, so probably so." Elliott frowned too, bewildered. "I remember my arms went numb right before it pitched me into the thing . . ." Shakily he sat up, turning to stare at the monument. He had hit his head on that? No wonder he was dizzy. Well, dizzy was a mild word for what he was feeling.
Scott reached to touch Elliott's hand. "Your skin still feels really cold," he declared with a shiver. But thankfully, it was a bit warmer now that he was awake. Some color had started to return to his face.
Elliott gave him an odd look. "Cold?" he repeated.
"Yeah . . . like you were bewitched or something," Scott said.
"Maybe I was," Elliott said, massaging the bump with care.
"But we hadn't even done anything to help you yet," Scott objected. "We were going to take you away from this tombstone thing, and then you woke up."
Elliott gave a helpless shrug. "I can't explain it," he said.
"Of course not," the Voice sighed.
Everyone started. "What do you mean?" Scott frowned.
"The reason why he was so cold was because there was an extraordinarily large amount of negative energy," the Voice said, as if it should be very obvious. "The three of you brought enough positive energy to outweigh it."
". . . Oh." Sean blinked. "Well . . . that's good to know."
"Now, all of you should get out of here while you still can!" the Voice scolded. "The spirits here don't like intruders."
"I think we've figured that out by now," Scott retorted. "We'd be glad to get out, if we knew how!"
And according to Angelflare, the release date for the CC Play Arts has been set to February. X3 CDJapan has them on pre-order, but for $37. **anime fall.** I'm hoping to find them elsewhere at a price comparable to the other Play Arts figures.
I had a weird dream involving Rockapella wandering through a cemetery. And Double Trouble was there as well. LOL. So ... a blurb happened. I plan to make this a full fic, but if I don't get to that, this blurb is nice and creepy for Halloween. X3 The cemetery is entirely inspired by a real one, save for the nasty thing floating around, of course.
(And I actually have advanced some on Diamond Rose Glass. I know basically where the rest of the chapter is going, too. Nancy Drew will be a large inspiration.)
Fictional Rockapella, loves. ♥
Elliott's eyes narrowed as he wandered around a hill with cobblestones set in the side of it. This was one of the most intricate cemeteries he had ever explored. Or maybe it was the most intricate; tramping through cemeteries was not a big hobby of his. It was really ridiculous that they were all lost in it now; all they had wanted was a shortcut, and instead this was one of the longest cuts they could have possibly taken. He would be sure to remind the others of this the next time they thought crossing a cemetery would be faster than taking a normal path.
Grass and leaves crackled somewhere behind him. He stiffened, whirling to look. But the spot was empty. None of the others were there.
He crossed his arms in annoyance. "Okay, Sean, is this another one of your pranks?" he asked the night. There was no place for Sean to hide, unless he had dived behind the large monument to the right.
A low, eerie whistle answered him. Either it was the slight breeze picking up, or Sean was indeed trying to play a prank. He had already made Scott jump nearly out of his shoes upon their first realization that they were lost in the cemetery, by hiding behind a tree and suddenly grabbing Scott's shoulder. He either found it a huge joke that they were stranded in a cemetery, or else he was trying to make the others see it that way. But after having been here as long as they had been, Elliott was not in the mood to make a joke of it.
Annoyed now, the brunet slipped around the tombstone he was standing by. Two could play at this game. If Sean wanted to play tricks, then Elliott would give him a taste of his own medicine. Was that a slight movement next to the other monument? He crept forward, making sure not to step on any leaves or twigs.
Icy fingers reached under his dark curls, touching the back of his neck. Instantly he stiffened. That was not Sean.
"Who dares to play on my grave?" a cruel voice hissed.
Elliott whirled to face his assailant. Still nothing. But now the air around him was cold, nipping at his cheeks and hands.
"I'm not playing on anyone's grave," he retorted. "As soon as I find the others, we're leaving. Then you won't have anything to worry about."
"Foolish boy," the invisible spectre said. "You have already trespassed. The only way to leave is through death!"
Unseen hands gripped at his shoulders, digging through his dress shirt and into his flesh. He gritted his teeth, pain shooting into his body. If this thing could touch him, why couldn't he touch it? Struggling to raise his hands, he clawed at the phantom's limbs. His hands only passed through thin air. And a frozen numbness was beginning to spread through his arms. They dropped limply to his sides.
At the same moment he was thrust to the side, the monument only too happy to make his acquaintance. The last thing he remembered was the splitting agony of the stone connecting with the side of his head.
Scott was uneasy.
They had already been here for far too long---over an hour, according to his watch. And now they had all gotten lost from each other. Possibly more disturbing was that his comb phone would not work. It was just like it had been in Egypt, with something jamming the signal. There was a chance it was just his phone that was malfunctioning, but he doubted it.
There was something unsettling about the entire place. Everything seemed so dark and desolate. Even the white lights from the lamps on the block corners appeared much more dim than they should. Was there some kind of film or fog over the entire cemetery? That sounded ridiculous, and yet with their luck, and their misadventure in Egypt, it did not seem as impossible as it once might have.
The tombstones just ahead looked more modern. Was that a good thing? Maybe it meant there was an exit close by. Not that it mattered. As long as he was without the other three, he was not leaving.
As he rounded a corner, he slammed into someone else. A stunned yelp left his lips as he stumbled back, pushing up his hat as it fell forward over his eyes.
"Whoa! You pack a pretty big wallop!" a familiar voice informed him.
"Sean!" Scott exclaimed, seeing the taller man looking back at him. "Where have you been, man?!"
"I was going to ask you that," Sean replied, crossing his arms. "You disappeared right after Elliott did! And then I lost Barry somewhere back there." He glanced around as if to make sure they were alone. "Finding them isn't even our biggest problem now."
Scott stared at him. "What do you mean?" he frowned.
"We're not the only ones here!" Sean told him. "I saw Double Trouble a while ago. They were wandering around acting lost themselves."
"Double Trouble?" Scott repeated, incredulous. "We're lost in a cemetery with Double Trouble?!"
"It looks that way." Sean sighed. "I tried following them, but when they went over that hill into the new part I couldn't keep up. They disappeared somewhere around the section where there's a lot of Chinese and Korean graves."
"Oh, well, that's just great," Scott said. "I wonder if they've stolen something."
"We'll never know as long as our phones are on the fritz." Sean looked to the left, his braids sweeping out and then falling against the side of his neck. "Have you poked around over there?" he wondered, indicating an older part of the cemetery.
Scott shook his head. "I was going to check out the new part to see if there was an exit," he said. "Then we'd at least know somewhere to go when we find the others."
"There isn't an exit," Sean said. "There's just a chainlink fence, and a bad drop on the other side."
Scott frowned, looking in that direction. Aided by the dim lights of the streetlamps ahead, he could just make out a grave marker that was tall and triangular shaped. One side of it was jagged.
He sighed, looking away. "Okay," he said, "let's look through the older part."
He walked alongside Sean as they began to move in that direction. The last thing he wanted to do was to lose track of the other again. They needed to stay together. And in this cemetery, it was far too easy to become separated.
"Where did you lose Barry?" he asked.
"It was over near a really big angel statue," Sean said. "I was just looking around and when I turned back, he was gone."
Scott glanced to the side. Barry and Elliott would not have been . . . spirited away, would they? That sounded off-the-wall even considering everything else they had seen, but maybe it wasn't. Or maybe he was just letting his imagination get away from him because of the eerie atmosphere here. He turned back, just in time to nearly be smacked by a gnarled claw. His mouth dropped open in disbelief, but almost instantly realization dawned. It was a tree branch. Shaking his head, he moved to the side.
He was just being ridiculous. He and Sean were both here. There was no reason why the others would not be, especially if Double Trouble was there. Surely the spirits would get angrier at those crooks than they would at Rockapella. Of course, if Double Trouble had not stolen anything and were just aimlessly wandering, too . . . well, it really depended on how much the ghosts disliked visitors in general.
". . . Do you think Barry and Elliott are alright?" Scott said at last.
"Sure," Sean replied. "Why wouldn't they be? This place is so big they must just be wandering here and there and everywhere."
"I guess. . . ." But now Scott was only half-listening. This older section was so mysterious. Several sections, likely family plots, had cast-iron fences all the way around them. Inside, the grass was long and unruly. Apparently, since the spaces were not big enough to accommodate lawn mowers, nothing had been done at all. Maybe the old locks on the gates would not even open anymore.
The trees were very tall and old, stretching high above them and into the dark sky. Even the tallest of the monuments came nowhere near the trees' height. But their size was still impressive, anyway. They must belong to important and wealthy locals. Scott paused to gawk at one whitish-gray slab that had to stand at least fifteen feet, if not higher.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say this place goes on forever," Sean said.
"It feels like it does," Scott sighed. "And is it just me or is it darker here than it even should be?"
Sean shoved his hands in his pockets. "It isn't just you," he said. "Where's a really good flashlight when you need one?"
"I wonder if even a really good one would work here tonight," Scott muttered.
As they turned the next corner, Scott's eyes widened in surprise. A figure was wandering among the gravestones on the next block. Then it paused somewhere near the center, as if seeing something. Had Scott and Sean been sighted? No, the figure was beginning to bend down next to one of the monuments, a dark hat falling forward on the person's head.
"Hey," Scott said in realization, "isn't that Barry?"
Sean perked up. "I think so," he said. He hastened forward, crossing the road to the next block. Scott hurried after him, not bothering to worry wondering if dashing over the graves was disrespectful to the dead.
His heart leaped into his throat as the full scene came into view. The figure was indeed Barry, and he was bending over a lifeless form sprawled on the ground. Having heard the others running through the grass, he had briefly glanced up but then had returned his attention to the body.
"Elliott!" Scott gasped. Flying the rest of the distance, he crashed to his knees by their fallen friend. Elliott was slumped in a mostly prone position, facing away from them. He did not stir as Scott laid a frantic hand on his shoulder, and from Barry's expression, Elliott had not moved when Barry had arrived, either.
Scott gripped tighter at the slackened shoulder. "El . . . what happened to you?" he spoke, his voice clearly reflecting his disbelief and horror.
Sean fell to his knees as well, alarmed at the sight. "Is he . . . ?" He could not bring himself to finish the sentence.
Barry shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted, his tone and expression grim. "I tried to feel for a pulse, but I couldn't find it. His skin's like ice."
"Ice . . . ?" Scott swallowed a cottonball in his throat as he began to turn Elliott to face him. The brunet fell into position, his head turning to the left. A gasp left Scott's lips. Elliott's flesh was almost whitish-blue in color. His eyes were closed, with no indication that they would open any time soon. His hands shaking, Scott grabbed Elliott's wrist to search for a pulse. The cold chill that swept through him nearly made him drop Elliott's hand back to the grass.
"What's wrong with him?!" Scott cried, clutching the frigid hand. "It's like he's . . . he's frozen alive!" If he was alive. . . .
Sean reached out, touching the sculpture next to them. An involuntary shiver went down his spine.
"I've got the feeling that whoever's buried here wasn't a nice person," he exclaimed, pulling his hand back.
"Then maybe getting Elliott away from here would help?!" Scott suggested, panic-stricken as he stared down at the lifeless form. Elliott had been fine the last time Scott had seen him. He couldn't be beyond help now. That was unthinkable!
"Maybe," Sean said, frankly disturbed and confused by the situation.
Without warning Elliott stirred, a moan slipping from his lips as he forced his eyes open. He blinked, trying to focus as Scott stared down at him.
"El!" he exclaimed, relief and joy washing over him. "Are you okay?!"
Elliott blinked again, then winced, a hand slowly moving to his head. "Ow," he hissed. "Something hit me . . . or . . . no, I hit something. . . ." He grimaced, his fingers locating the cruel bump. "Something threw me into something. . . ."
"Like the person who's buried here?" Sean frowned.
". . . It was some ghost, so probably so." Elliott frowned too, bewildered. "I remember my arms went numb right before it pitched me into the thing . . ." Shakily he sat up, turning to stare at the monument. He had hit his head on that? No wonder he was dizzy. Well, dizzy was a mild word for what he was feeling.
Scott reached to touch Elliott's hand. "Your skin still feels really cold," he declared with a shiver. But thankfully, it was a bit warmer now that he was awake. Some color had started to return to his face.
Elliott gave him an odd look. "Cold?" he repeated.
"Yeah . . . like you were bewitched or something," Scott said.
"Maybe I was," Elliott said, massaging the bump with care.
"But we hadn't even done anything to help you yet," Scott objected. "We were going to take you away from this tombstone thing, and then you woke up."
Elliott gave a helpless shrug. "I can't explain it," he said.
"Of course not," the Voice sighed.
Everyone started. "What do you mean?" Scott frowned.
"The reason why he was so cold was because there was an extraordinarily large amount of negative energy," the Voice said, as if it should be very obvious. "The three of you brought enough positive energy to outweigh it."
". . . Oh." Sean blinked. "Well . . . that's good to know."
"Now, all of you should get out of here while you still can!" the Voice scolded. "The spirits here don't like intruders."
"I think we've figured that out by now," Scott retorted. "We'd be glad to get out, if we knew how!"