[As Wilhelm leads their strange parade through the streets of Nott, he keeps an eye on the children. They chatter among themselves, crashing into one another to slip whispers into ears. They skip and jump and do normal kid things, but every once in a while someone's gaze snags on Wilhelm's bag on the back of the bicycle. Then they fall into silence into a spell, as if scheming how to get the doll back.
The boy, Adair, seems reluctant to part ways with his friends. Or with the doll. But he scurries into his house, slamming the door behind him.]
Are you sure about that?
[Wilhelm is half joking, but with so many strange things to account for it's hard to say. Where do the boundaries of magic lie? How far and wide do they stretch? Then they're onto the next one. Oisin and Jessalyn, brother and sister.]
[ the remaining children start walking again without waiting for their say so, although river briefly makes eye contact with jessalyn to nonverbally confirm that they are in fact taking the path toward their own house. all three of them seem to stare at wilhelm as they walk past, silent and intense for a long moment before they return to their whispered conversations.
river can't quite detect any malice in them but it's vaguely disconcerting nonetheless. it's almost like looking into a mirror; maybe this is a time to self-reflect...
no, that's nonsense. there are ghosts to catch! river continues to watch the kids closely as they both follow behind the group this time. ]
There's no scientific basis to the concept of spectral entities like ghosts or poltergeists, but reports of unexplained phenomena are pretty much universal across various cultures throughout recorded history. And in a world where everything is magic and anything is possible...
[ she trails off, giving a hapless shrug, and smiles at wilhelm. ]
I thought it would be fun to find out together. Not sure this is proof of anything, but look. Can you see them?
[ river isn't sure if he can, if it's only there by virtue of her third eye or because she looked into the doll. ( she doesn't discredit the notion it could be a figment of her own overactive mind either; it's not like she's a stranger to hallucinations. ) but she'll try to point it out to him anyway, where the shadows on the ground seem to move on their own behind the children that seem otherwise oblivious. ]
[And in a world where everything is magic and anything is possible... His thoughts stray, as they often do, back to Erik. When he imagined he was talking to his brother down in the hopeless darkness of the pit, and he'd clung to the possibility that whatever was left of Erik in death had somehow found him across the universe, it must have been a hallucination. He was on the brink of starvation, and spores were warping his mind.
But what about at the end of the summer, when the Heralds swept across the land? Was he really only imagining that Erik was there, or...? It hurts to wonder, the hope of it a double-edged sword.
River points to the children's shadows, stretched out behind them as the sun sinks toward the horizon, and Wilhelm looks but doesn't see what she wants him to see. He shakes his head.]
The shadows?
[All he sees is the children sneaking looks at his bag, as if making sure that he hasn't run off with their precious doll.]
[ she can tell when his thoughts drift away from the children and their quest, and suddenly it doesn't seem quite so fun anymore. try as he may to hide it, wilhelm wears his emotions on his sleeve, and there are always dark clouds that linger just above him even when he otherwise seems to be in good spirits.
river understands. well - she doesn't, not really. the world has torn her apart from simon more than once, leaving her with the despair of thinking she might never see him again, but she at least has the comfort of knowing that he's ( theoretically ) still alive out there somewhere in the 'verse.
rather, what she understands is the way that grief wrings wilhelm's heart until it feels like it may never beat again. it dulls his vision, shadows cast over an empty world without erik in it.
they've never talked about it. perhaps they ought to, someday. as it is, river's hand lowers slowly, her tone and expression falling to something more neutral even as her eyes remain on the children, distantly curious. ]
Yes. They whisper nonsense and disobey the light. The doll has one too. They're doing mischief - they're mischievous.
[ slowly, her gaze slides back to wilhelm and she weakly offers: ]
Maybe it's just "kids will be kids" instead of ghosts. Seems like they're having fun.
[He's not so sure. And from the sound of it, neither is River.]
Yeah, maybe. [He finds a chuckle.] It's the cool new thing. We're just too old to understand.
[The knotted problem of what's behind all of this twists in his thoughts as they finish shepherding the children home. Is it just mischief, or is the mischief a mask for something more sinister? By the time they drop the last girl off, and she skips to the door with the precious doll clutched to her chest, the sun is slanting low in the sky. Afternoon is beginning to sink into evening. Wilhelm looks at River.]
Do you want to keep looking for answers? Or should we head back?
no subject
The boy, Adair, seems reluctant to part ways with his friends. Or with the doll. But he scurries into his house, slamming the door behind him.]
Are you sure about that?
[Wilhelm is half joking, but with so many strange things to account for it's hard to say. Where do the boundaries of magic lie? How far and wide do they stretch? Then they're onto the next one. Oisin and Jessalyn, brother and sister.]
no subject
river can't quite detect any malice in them but it's vaguely disconcerting nonetheless. it's almost like looking into a mirror; maybe this is a time to self-reflect...
no, that's nonsense. there are ghosts to catch! river continues to watch the kids closely as they both follow behind the group this time. ]
There's no scientific basis to the concept of spectral entities like ghosts or poltergeists, but reports of unexplained phenomena are pretty much universal across various cultures throughout recorded history. And in a world where everything is magic and anything is possible...
[ she trails off, giving a hapless shrug, and smiles at wilhelm. ]
I thought it would be fun to find out together. Not sure this is proof of anything, but look. Can you see them?
[ river isn't sure if he can, if it's only there by virtue of her third eye or because she looked into the doll. ( she doesn't discredit the notion it could be a figment of her own overactive mind either; it's not like she's a stranger to hallucinations. ) but she'll try to point it out to him anyway, where the shadows on the ground seem to move on their own behind the children that seem otherwise oblivious. ]
no subject
But what about at the end of the summer, when the Heralds swept across the land? Was he really only imagining that Erik was there, or...? It hurts to wonder, the hope of it a double-edged sword.
River points to the children's shadows, stretched out behind them as the sun sinks toward the horizon, and Wilhelm looks but doesn't see what she wants him to see. He shakes his head.]
The shadows?
[All he sees is the children sneaking looks at his bag, as if making sure that he hasn't run off with their precious doll.]
no subject
river understands. well - she doesn't, not really. the world has torn her apart from simon more than once, leaving her with the despair of thinking she might never see him again, but she at least has the comfort of knowing that he's ( theoretically ) still alive out there somewhere in the 'verse.
rather, what she understands is the way that grief wrings wilhelm's heart until it feels like it may never beat again. it dulls his vision, shadows cast over an empty world without erik in it.
they've never talked about it. perhaps they ought to, someday. as it is, river's hand lowers slowly, her tone and expression falling to something more neutral even as her eyes remain on the children, distantly curious. ]
Yes. They whisper nonsense and disobey the light. The doll has one too. They're doing mischief - they're mischievous.
[ slowly, her gaze slides back to wilhelm and she weakly offers: ]
Maybe it's just "kids will be kids" instead of ghosts. Seems like they're having fun.
no subject
Yeah, maybe. [He finds a chuckle.] It's the cool new thing. We're just too old to understand.
[The knotted problem of what's behind all of this twists in his thoughts as they finish shepherding the children home. Is it just mischief, or is the mischief a mask for something more sinister? By the time they drop the last girl off, and she skips to the door with the precious doll clutched to her chest, the sun is slanting low in the sky. Afternoon is beginning to sink into evening. Wilhelm looks at River.]
Do you want to keep looking for answers? Or should we head back?