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[i][u]Location[/u]:[/i] 25B Faraday Heights
[i][u]Interacting With[/u]: Felix [@McHaggis][/i]
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Ghosts did not sleep.

Endless nights reminded Mona of this crucial fact. Endless, endless nights. She could memorize the colors of the sky with how often she watched it during dusk, she could list off each shade of darkness found above; the red-purple of twilight, the blue-black of nine P.M, the purple and pink hints of planet light that formed just at the witching hour. And then the morning would come, the sun summoned the most beautiful shades of white and pink and blue. Striped clouds dotted those lovely mornings, images Mona could piece together into another daydream. Gorgeous mornings led to gorgeous thoughts, and lazy days.

Today was not a gorgeous morning though. As Mona traced the white-gray storm clouds above she sighed. They hadn’t moved since late last night, and she had spent her sleeplessness watching nothing. Gray was not a pretty color, it was dull and familiar, because she too shared such a tone. Monochrome, boring. [i]Where’s my pretty morning?[/i] Mona silently complained as her back pressed against the air just a few inches above the roof of Faraday Heights. Light had finally reached their dreary streets and she had no good things to think about, such mundane mornings were supposed to be complained about! In a lazy huff the ghost rose, balancing idly on nothing as she glared down at the empty streets below. People and creatures alike would be wandering down there soon enough, ripe for the imagining, but now nothing but a chill she couldn’t feel danced across the cement.

[i]boring boring boring[/i]

A lazy yawn shifted from her lips, parting them but not forming any noise or mist, and Mona huffed haughtily again before lowering down into the roof. Rooms, rooms, and more rooms flashed passed her vision, only for a moment, and she swore she heard a few shocked gasps from a few of them. Of course, seeing a translucent girl descend from your ceiling wasn’t what you normally expected in the morning, but really they should be used to it! Mona wasn’t one for saying sorry, nor was she one to break routine. They screamed every other day! A stifled giggle echoed across one unlit household, and then she was finally home, resting on a couch that she had placed there a mere month or so before.

Mona’s room in 25B was sparse at best. The blue-white couch below her was basically the only piece of furniture, save for a single wooden chair in the other corner and an alcove seat. Lots of places to sit, lots of places to dream. Spray painted white walls and various books and cards made up the rest of the room, all found, aller her’s, and Mona sighed comfortably as she turned and settled visibly onto the couch. Her hair curled above her head automatically, shifting, forming, and bubbling as if suspended forever in water. She watched the effect quietly, combing her gray hands through the kinks and curls for a few long minutes before sitting up and listening to the sounds of the rest of the house.

Felix was awake. Mona knew because automatically her ears started ringing and her body felt a bit heavier. Mediums were noisey, her mind reminded her, and Mona sighed and nodded to herself before drifting towards the door. She opened it out of politeness because, really, she [i]liked[/i] Felix, and didn’t wish to frighten her with sudden appearances. As she wandered into the main room of the apartment, glancing around expectantly for the medium, her soft, whispering voice formed and asked gently,

[color=a4d1cf]”Felix? You awake?”[/color]

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[i][u]Location[/u]:[/i] 5631 Spruce Ave
[i][u]Interacting With[/u]: Miss[/i]
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Faron liked cigarettes in the morning. He liked the way they tasted (awful, smoky, chalky), he liked the way they smelled. He liked the way they formed shapes and spirals as the smoke left his lips and vanished into the chilly January air. The only thing he loathed about them was, of course, was the way they were slowly suffocating his lungs. If Faron lived passed thirty he would be surprised -- that’s how often he smoked. Pushing such a dark thought aside was easily done, though, as Faron took another drag from the fag and leaned further out the window.

Edgetoun was quiet as a snow storm brewed above. Faron only knew it was a snowstorm because of the old radio sitting beside him, which was now spouting some weird poppy song around crackling static. He took another, longer drag as the words from the radio buried deep into his head, certainly planning to play on and on for the rest of the day. Earworm songs could be damned to hell, Faron thought with a slight smirk, sucking in one last puff as the cigarette fell away into ash between his fingertips. The gray-black mist that steamed from his nose and mouth filled the air fully and, for a moment, Faron swore he saw a face appear. The radio crackled into white noise, and whispers filled his mind. A ghost, looking for attention.

[sub][i]fay fay fay fay fay fay fay fay fay[/i][/sub]

They called, teasing. Faron watched the smoke shift with each vowel, a curt mouth spouting the name endlessly. He leaned into his hand, waggling a finger at the spirit as it attempted to enter his room.

[color=a392b2]”Uh-uh, miss. Can’t let ya in here.  Why not pass on for now?”[/color] His voice came out tense and emotionless, though a friendly smile kept his face light. White mist now escaped from his lips, sweeping into the spirit with another chilly wind which made him shiver, and the spirit’s smoky eyes narrowed and became as sorrowful as they could become. Again, the whispers cried,

[i]fay fay fay fay fay fay fay fay fay fay fay fay fay[/i]

And again Faron shook his head and leaned closer, dark eyes sparkling in the half-light of the cloudy day, [color=a392b2]”I have people living with me, luv. Got no more room for another. I am certain you would not enjoy my room either; I’m quite boyish, if you get what i mean.”[/color] The spirit hung idly in front of him, eyeing him suspiciously, and then a sigh formed from the radio. The white noise ceased, and the spirit backed up into the gales that hung between the buildings. She was not passing on, Faron knew that, but she had become bored him his incessant nos. He waved to her, smiling still, and then she was gone in a sudden gust of cold air, taking with her the odd feeling of being watched and the brief comfort of not having to listen to the morning pop music.

[color=a392b2]”Later, luv.”[/color] Faron called to the empty air, pulling back inside and slamming the window shut. He wandered back towards the center of his cluttered room, tripping over fallen tapestries and cloaks until he was able to settle on the edge of his unmade bed. Neat hands patted warmth and life back to his ice-chilled shoulders, and Faron lit a few melted candles before collapsing back onto his sheets. E glanced at the clock on his nightstand, and then yawned. It was still early.

[i]i could get another hour of sleep in maybe[/i]