Forums » General Roleplay » Ripley and the Ghost Club (1x1)

"Oh... great... old people," Ripley said unenthusiastically, completely ignoring Livia's outrage. She followed the others out to their bikes and picked up hers. "Let's get going, then. I'm supposed to be home in two hours, so I have about three, maybe four before I have to get back."

Livia simply glared at her for that comment. Disrespecting elders was bad, but not nearly as bad as disrespecting Livia's own mother. Francis pulled up the directions on his phone and lead the way on his bicycle.

Unlike the church, Pine Rest Clinic was clearly a building designed for its current purpose. The sterile, white structure towered over the others nearby to it. Francis and Livia locked up their bikes and went inside. Due to their height, they were forced to peer over the reception desk.

"Excuse me." Francis said. "We're here to visit Nadrie Chapman." The receptionist, a middle aged woman, eyed them suspiciously.

"You family?" she asked.

"Uh, no, we're friends from church." Livia told her. It wasn't entirely a lie. At least not for her.

"Right...where's your parents?"

"Um..." Livia hadn't thought that far ahead.

"At work, like most parents tend to be," Ripley said promptly, stepping in again. "We're testing out an after-school program where kids come to rest care homes like this one to spend time with older folk, especially kids with no grandparents of their own. Like me. I never really had the chance to know my grandparents, so I signed up for this trial run to see what it was like to talk to grandparents. To get, like, wisdom and stuff from an older generation." She looked down and to the side as if trying to hide her expression while subtly making sure the receptionist could see her pitiful, sad look as she pretended to think about the connections she'd never had.

Then she shook her head and smiled up at the receptionist. "Besides, I once read a depressing article about how only one in ten parents are visited by their children once they go to a home, and that just sounds so stinkin' lonely. I sure would like a visit from my grandkids if I were them. Wouldn't you? I mean, we're not literally their grandkids, but something is better than nothing, right?"

Francis had to catch himself from watching Ripley in admiration of her ability to lie to adults. Instead, he played along, adopting a somber expression. The receptionist continued to look suspicious at first, but by the time Ripley was finished, her eyes were welling up.

"Of course, of course." she cooed, grabbing a tissue for herself. "Miss Chapman is in room 303. Go right on up. Bless your hearts for visiting her."

"Thank you, ma'am." Livia said. She needed to sound relieved that she was being allowed to visit her dear surrogate grandmother, which wasn't hard, since she was actually relieved that their lie had worked. They made their way down the sterile, white hallway, and into the elevator.

"How do you do that?" Francis hissed once the doors closed.

Ripley grinned as she walked with them and tried to toss her tangled hair over her shoulder. "It's a gift! Seriously, though, you guys are terrible at this. Adults rarely take us kids seriously even if we are telling the truth and being serious. You have to be able to give them something they want to hear." She glanced at Francis curiously. "How have you guys gotten around with your ghost stuff before now? Adults sure don't like ghosts, so you can't have been telling them that." She glanced between the three dubiously. "Right?"

"Of course not!" Francis said. "Adults don't have favorable reactions to finding out our field of business. We...lie as best we can. But we aren't as talented as you are. If that doesn't work, we've had to sneak into places on occasion."

"I wish there was a better way." Livia sighed. "Lying is a sin. But I've resolved to minister to these ghosts and vanquish demonic presences. All I can do is what I must, and then pray for forgiveness afterwards."

The elevator opened up to the third floor. Francis counted out the room numbers. "301, 302, ah! Here's 303." He allowed Livia to go inside first since she somewhat knew this woman. The room was clean and sterile, but had a nice view of the town out the window. Nadrie was an older woman with frizzy blonde hair that was starting to go grey. She was dressed in a hospital gown, laid up on the bed with a heart rate monitor and IV.

"Miss Chapman?" Livia called out. "Hi, me and my friends came to visit." The woman smiled warmly, a mix of her natural kindness and the painkillers that were being injected through her IV.

"Oh, hello Livia." she croaked out. "That's so very kind of you. You're actually the first visitors I've had." Livia approached the bed and placed a hand on hers.

"How are you feeling?"

"Well, I'm alive, praise the Lord, and my back doesn't hurt anymore."

Ripley hung back. Old people were not her strong suit. Her only real interactions with them were usually being told off about something or having to sit still and behave properly for an interminably long time. Sometimes, they even pinched her cheeks, and that hurt! She was quite happy to stand back and let Livia do whatever it was she needed to do. She glanced around the room curiously. There was so much to touch! Quickly, she tucked her hands into her pockets. The last thing she needed was to break a super expensive machine.

Francis followed Livia right into the room. But when Visia reached the threshold, she froze. He turned back to whisper to her. "What is it?"

"I feel...hatred." she responded.

"From her??"

"No. From whatever attacked her. It wasn't an animal. Animals can't hate like this." While Francis thought about what she said, Livia continued speaking to Nadrie.

"What happened to you?" she asked. The woman took a shuddering breath and shook her head.

"It was early this morning. Exactly 3am when I looked at the clock. I woke up in a cold sweat. It felt like something was in the room with me, but I couldn't see nothing. Behind me, it's cold, like someone opened a window back there. But all of mine were closed. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my back. I reached back there and my hand came back bloody. At that point, I called 911 to come get me. They said an animal must've clawed at me. But there weren't no animal in there."

Ripley raised a finger to catch Francis' attention and hopefully not distract Livia from performing whatever magic she had with old people. "Hey, if these people are, like, religious believing-type people, how come there isn't some sort of... magic barier thingy protecting them from what you assume is a demonic attack? I mean, I'm not a religious-type person, but I thought demons and angels were on opposite sides, and if you did your part to be the religious type, the angels were supposed to protect you from the demons," she said quietly. "If that's how it's supposed to work, doesn't that put doubt on it being a religious thing? Or were the people who were attacked just fakers?"

The finger did catch Francis' attention, and he discretely sidled over to see what she had to say. After hearing her out, he nodded. What she said made sense in theory, but it didn't match what he'd seen in practice.

"If only it were that simple." he said, also speaking quietly for once. "Simply being religious doesn't make you immune to demons. I've seen Livia contend with demonic forces, and it's more like...a battle of wills. Her faith versus their...sheer malice." He smiled in her direction. "That being said, her faith-based methods have proven to be the most effective at pacifying demon-like entities." Livia had no idea she was being complimented as she focused on Nadrie.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you." she said. Despite how abrasive she could be at times, she sounded genuinely sympathetic.

"God bless you, dear." the woman responded. "I hope nothing happens to no one else. Poor LeVerl and Kailan." Francis pulled his notes out to review what he'd written down so far. As he was looking at the list of victims, his brow furrowed.

"How curious. Do you notice that the victims were attacked in alphabetical order by their last names?" He tapped them with his pencil, indicating it to Ripley. "It's only three, but that would be quite a coincidence, if it is just that."

Ripley frowned, not really getting it, but not about to argue, either. She was getting bored and antsy, to be honest, and really not wanting to hang around here. "Three isn't much of a pool of info, Sherlock. I think you need more than that to really get any sort of admissible clue. Or something like that. I dunno. The Nan never lets me finish an episode of any of the crime shows."

"We can't convict a spirit in the court of law." Francis said with a shrug. "But I see your point. It may simply be a coincidence. I just wish there was a way we could determine who's going to be the next target. If there is one." The woman moved to pat Livia's hand.

"Well, thank you for visiting, dear." she said. "You'd better get back home. I'm sure your mother's looking for you." It seemed the Prudence family's helicopter parenting was common knowledge.

"Okay, I'll be praying for you." Livia replied.

Once they were back out in the hallway, Francis brought her up to date on what Visia had felt. "So it is a demon! I told you!" she gloated.

"It's still too early to jump to conclusions." he replied. "All we know for sure is that it's not an animal."

"Whatever it is - animal, demon, or other - why would it or they be attacking a group of three people, possibly in alphabetical order?" Ripley asked. "Is there anything other than the church that connects them? Did they all buy the same ham at the store, or help or not help the wrong person?"

"No, it's just the church." Livia said. Presumably, she would know best, besides possibly her parents. Unless, of course, the three of them did something she didn't know about. "Wait, did you say alphabetical?" Something seemed to click in her mind when she heard that. She pulled something up on her phone and her eyes widened.

"Look! Those are the first three names on our church's directory!" She showed them, and sure enough, the first three entries appeared as such:

Allyn, LeVerl
Burgess, Kailan
Chapman, Nadrie

"Next on the list is Dayer Christiansen." Francis mused. "If this is truly the order of attacks, perhaps we can tail him and catch the attacker red-handed."

"Why does everyone around here have such weird names?" grumbled the girl called Ripley by choice. "Well, come on! We'd better find Dayer Christiansen, then, and see if he gets attacked by a cat or a badger or a psycho man or what." She turned and walked out quickly.

"He lives at 1200 North Avenue with his wife Edrie!" Livia said. The elevator took them back down to the first floor. As they left the clinic, the receptionist watched, placing a hand over her heart. Clearly, she was still moved by Ripley's fake story. Livia knew where they were going, so she lead the way on her bike. They had made it a few blocks when a voice called out to them.

"Livia, there you are! I've been looking for you."

If it was anyone else, they normally could have ignored them. But the girl turned pale and skidded to a halt. It was her mother, her face now lit up with anger. "Livia Magdalene Prudence, you get away from that boy right now! I thought I recognized him. He's the president of that occultist 'Ghost Club.' I thought you knew better than to associate with people like him."

Livia looked between her mother and the other kids, clearly torn about what to do.

"Oh, for cryin'," Ripley sighed. A girl's work was never done. She turned to Livia's mother with the most sincere, open, wide-eyed look. "People like what, Ma'am? I don't understand. Livia told me it's her life's work to try to reach out to people and help them find the right path. I'm not quite sure what that means, but isn't it hard to show someone the right way to go if you don't talk to them? I mean, I guess, unless you can't talk. Then I guess you'd have to do that hand language thing. Signing? Is that what it's called? That's a swell way to be able to talk to other people so you don't have to write it all down, right? That would be a pain and a half to have to write everything down, don't you think? It would take forever to talk about anything complicated. Livia's fabulous about answering any kind of question someone might have, like what happens after you die. Do you ever think about things like that? About what happens after you die? Livia has all the answers! And she listens, which most adults dont, you know, to kids. They get squirmy when kids like us talk about death, but it's just a natural thing, isn't it? A natural part of life? And kids talk about stuff adults won't, but they don't have the answers adults do. Except Livia here. She knows lots of answers. I guess her folks actually talk to her about stuff and trust her to talk to people who don't have answers and tell them the true answers because she's way too kind and will talk to anyone who has big questions."

Livia's mother stared down her nose at Ripley as she listened to her. Well, "listened" wasn't entirely accurate. Nothing that she heard would have changed her mind. She took pride in that. To her, it was a sign of how resolute her faith was. But in reality, it was just proof of how closed-minded she was.

"'Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness?' 2 Corinthians 6:14." She quoted this with no context, as though the quote itself was enough to prove her point. "And you're right. Livia knows exactly what happens after you die. The righteous ascend to heaven and spend eternity in God's glory." She fixed a pointed gaze at Francis, which he wilted under. "...and the unrighteous burn in hell forever."

"B-but Mom, what we're doing is righteous!" Livia protested. "We're helping people! And helping spirits go to heaven!"

"'There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch. Or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer. For all that do these things are an abomination unto the Lord: and because of these abominations the Lord thy God doth drive them out from before thee.' Deuteronomy 18:10-12. The Lord expressly forbids communing with the dead. Now come home so we can pray for your forgiveness."

The girl didn't have any response to that. Even though she could be abrasive at times, in this moment, there were tears in her eyes. She turned to her former friends one last time.

"I'm sorry..."

With those final words, she somberly walked her bike over as her mother lead her away. Francis reached out to her, but didn't know what to say. Once she was gone, he slumped over the handlebars of his bike.

"Crud..." he muttered, not having any big words this time. Visia stared at him, wanting to help, but not having the emotional intelligence to do so.

"Wow... that was a lot," Ripley said quietly. She glanced at Francis. "I don't even want to know what all of that was, but can we even continue without Livia? Like, will Mr., uh, Dra Christian... thingy... talk to us without her?"

It took Francis a moment to collect himself. Despite how much they butted heads, he valued his friendship with Livia, not to mention her contributions to the club. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke.

"We have to. Somehow. Members of this church are under attack. If the source is supernatural, we're the only ones who can stop it." Briefly, he took off his glasses to rub his eyes with his arm. "You're better at this than I am. What do you propose we tell Mr. Christiansen? It would be ideal if we could stay in close proximity, so we can wait for the culprit to strike."