First: here Previous: here Next: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1266999270 PNM1, Grian (This name may vary depending on nicknames he has in the story) TW: bl00d, injvry, mentions of d0m3st!c v!0l3nce, mvrd3r, pointy thing used for cutting I'm ready right out of the gate. Skizz is running cold imaging to discover the name of our ghost, and Gem an' Dad are right behind me. Shelby and Drift identified the ghost type as an Onryo, most likely a victim of d0m3stic v!0l3nce. Impulse's job is to spread crucifixes and firelights throughout the house to prevent hunts. Majority vote decided not to take precautions in case of an Onryo-Demon hybrid. 'The ghost doesn't appear to be aggressive. Me and Impulse have eyes on him, he's under the bed in the master bedroom. Crying.' Gem's voice rings over the comms. "On my way." I respond. The ghost is startled when I enter the room. One look at him, and I can tell it's a mvrd3r case. His throat is sl!t open, and his left eye is missing, a kn!f3 left behind in the socket. Coating his hair is a bright blaze of fire, and behind him, a long rope of obsidian uncoils from his tailbone, ending in a puff of flame. A mix of emotions resulting in an Onryo-Demon hybrid-type ghost. I fix my face from forced shock to forcing out a plausible comforting smile. "Tango, right? Our tech ran cold imaging to match your face to a name that fit your death criteria. I'm Grian, He/Him. This is my adopted sister, Gem. She/They. And one of our adopted fathers, Impulse. He/It/They. What are your pronouns?" "It/They." It stutters. I softly push a lit candle towards them. "You like fire, right?" It nods, cradling the candle in their hands. "It's cause it's pretty an' stuff." It says, sniffling. They appear to have stopped crying, but it still looks sad. Maybe such a man like me could still make a difference in this world. Not that anyone other than me knows about my apathy diagnosis. I've worked hard to keep it a secret, to portray myself as sensitive and emotional, mischievous and light-hearted. "So, we have some nice real estate here. I took some nice scenery photos. Maybe when we're done here, you'd be okay with us selling it, Mr. Onryo Demon? We'll get your stuff, of course, and we'll use the money to outfit you a room in the warehouse." Scar interrupts my thoughts. Tango's fire perks up in curiosity. "Warehouse?" They ask, Flickering out from underneath the bed. "Yeah! We have a whimsical ghost-finding business, and we own a warehouse where we live and store our equipment!" Scar chirps happily, and Tango perks up further. "You'd really let me join you guys?" It asks excitedly, tail wagging behind them rapidly. "Of course!" I answer warmly, forcing my face to twist into a bright smile to match my words. "Only if you want to. Nobody's going to force you to do anything you don't want to do." Gem assures it. "I'd love to!" They shout, jumping up and down. Case 081: Tango T. Tek, Onryo-Demon Cause of d3: Mvrd3r $3x assigned at birth: Male Pronouns: It/They $3xv!ty: Bir0m!ic, @$3xval Likes: Fire, technology, birds, ghost-hunting Dislikes: Bl00d, it's reflection, loud noises {specifically yelling} Abilities: Fire manipulation, telekenesis, corprealization Weaknesses: Holy symbols, water, salt Current lover: N/A Current nemesis: N/A
PNM2, Abolish (This name may vary depending on nicknames he has in the story) TW: mentions of v!0l3nce/h0m0c!d3, arguing | v "Mom-" "No buts, Abolish. You have missions lined up all day. Go get ready." She says tursely, closing off any possibility for further conversation. I don't let people close things on me. "Mom! You have to give me days off at some point! Seriously!" She doesn't even turn away from her paperwork when she yells back. "Abolish Regret Veylocke! You and I both know you don't need days off for any conventional means, so you're doing these missions, and that is final! Now go get ready." Just as I'm about to Flicker back to my room, she says one more thing. "You're letting yourself get emotional again." ~~~ "Case is an open and shut. A Yokai and a Mimic committed h0m0c!de, k!ll3d off a whole town of cultists. Children were spared." "Wasn't this case taken by G.I.G.G.S.?" I ask the man next to me, keeping my tone to disinterested boredom, my face showing no emotion. He rifles through the case file. "They're here to ask the ghosts to join their corporation. We're here to arrest them." I crack my knuckles and lean against the wall of the truck. "Oh. Well, at least it won't take long. I blew the transmission in their van." "That's our Veylocke!" He shouts, and the rest of the team cheers. I roll my shoulders back and rotate my neck, restraining myself from flinching at the cracks. When we pull up next to the van, the one I would assume is the leader steps out. Grian Solidarity-Moon. Cryptid, Avian type, Scarlet Macaw variant. "Instruct the rest of your team to come out with your hands up. You're under arrest for harboring dangerous spirits." He laughs in response, his eyes duller than coal. "And you think you can catch us in that big, slow truck of yours?" He asks. "It won't be much of a chase with your transmission shot." He winks at me, and I respond by smoothing a wrinkle out of my suit. "Our tech man is really good at what he does. It took him less time to replace the busted transmission with an ecto-proof one than it took me to say those words." I raise an eyebrow. "Ecto-proof equipment is harder to come by and even more expensive." He laughs again. "Then why is all of your gear ecto-proof?" His eyes flash purple, and for a moment, I think I see emotion behind them. Then it's gone, leaving behind that eeriely familiar apathy.
