nickambrose

[nickambrose]

“Tried turning it off and on again didn’t get anything, not even a little jingle.” He was fairly certain the phone was some kind of waterproof, but to what extend he didn’t know and frankly had never really cared. Lee had forever taken the piss out of him for buying into the apple eco-system, but what else was Nick going to use? It all worked harmoniously together anyway and that’s all he really cared about. “I can pay you for your time, got the creds Walid.” Which was maybe a stretch because Nick had been steadfastly reserving credits to go on a blow-out honeymoon. He wanted to forget the plebs of Panopticon and lay on a white sandy beach for a week, with Mik of course.

‘Are you a mechanic, or a repair-person Walid?’ Ana interjected, dotingly smiling as if Walid wasn’t older than her. ‘I can’t even imagine how you’d repair these sorts of phones with their touch-screens it feels so futuristic! I still have one of these…’ She dug around in what was left of her pockets, to produce a flip phone that was somehow still intact. Save for a totally busted screen once she’d flipped it open. ‘I wish you could fix this for me! But I guess I don’t really have much use for it now. Besides my baby is right here for me to talk to.’

Nick shivered, as his mum had decidedly clung to his shoulder but fell through anyway. “Yeah I really was Walid, figured it’d be easy work for you? Bit of no-brainer downtime between the big juicy jobs?” Nick urged, voice tilting into a riot of enthusiasm. “Hey if you’re busy with the big stuff no worries, I can find someone else.”

'What kind of work do you normally do around here Walid?'

Walid looked confused, then shook their head. “What did you do to fix it?” They pressed their lips together, then went. “Did you turn it off and on again?” There he went, but it needed to be asked. He could feel annoyance take root. He was very often asked to fix things, but at times the requests were simply below his technical expertise. “I guess I will,” he said, biting his lip as he looked at it. 

They’d seen plenty of weird things, so getting used to ghosts around wasn’t such a big thing. Luckily their mother was always a little away, busying herself with… well, she couldn’t really clean things, so they figured she was making tea again. Which she couldn’t drink, but she could make it. And she loved making tea. He wondered how many of his engineers has been fed a litre of tea by now. 

“Nice to meet you, Ana,” he said, smiling like a good boy meeting a new auntie. Though they felt the hair on the back of their neck spring up at the… compliment? “You're really hoping I will fix it, don't you?” They sighed, setting the phone down on the floor and screwing the back off.

[nickambrose]

Nick sucked on his bottom lip, brows pulled up as the sickly sweet droll of Tomas being inquisitive over his school years kicked mum into high-gear. She gushed, nodding along only swallowing her words as Tomas’ haunting piped up with a song. The kind that was destined to shatter windows, and beckon cats to the redhead’s feet. Nick inhaled through his nose, his arms slowly folding over his chest as Tomas decided now was the opportunity to really wring it it. Declaring himself a creative in what was supposed to be a sure-fire way to ruffle feathers. Nick glided above the remarks having already long mastered the art of a politician’s smile. 

Nick turned a little over eager to Libby, the ex-wife. “Well fuck, Libby it’s such an honour to meet you. I would say in the flesh but well…y’know…let’s not linger on that, yeah? What was Tomas like before all this, when he was young and fun, totally not a mood-hoover grump, or whatever?” Nick needled, which undeservedly got a slam-dunked ice cold swat from his mum. He didn’t see why that was needed it wasn’t like he was asking if Tomas was bad in the sack. Nick ran a hand through his hair to note it was full of…goop…ghost…goop. “Gross.”

‘Excuse him I think he’s hyped up on fizzy pop or…whatever it is you kids are drinking these days.’ Ana smoothed over, as if she wasn’t around-abouts the same age as he was. No need to implore that too deeply, the implications were dire and Nick was keen to side-step the crash in it’s entirety. Libby seemed well, she looked a priss but who was Nick to judge on that. He’d spent the last five minutes smoothing out his hair. “No mum just a good old-fashioned hangover.” He muttered under his breath as if they’d been pulled back to the first half the millennia. 

Ana carried on as if she hadn’t heard him. ’Nick was a quiet kid, weren’t you love? So shy, I remember year seven parents' evening they were telling me how you were away with the fairies. I’m so glad to see he’s got friends now, and my little baby is getting married…’ She drifted, and Nick narrowed his eyes at her, she’d embellished on that to paint him a friendless victim. “Actually–” He started, but she beat him to it. ‘I’m so sorry Libby, do you remember how you went? Nick has been telling me the world’s ended? Heavens it sounds a terrifying ordeal.’ 

She smiled, a little shy as she addressed Tomas. ‘Don’t pay my son any heed his taste in music was always dubious we had Autoamerican on vinyl, but he told us it was old-fashioned. You’ve got such a good voice, my husband could sing too but I haven’t a musical note in my body.’

It was bad form, even in front of the deceased, but Tomas couldn't help a derisive, incredulous snort when Ana toodled out loud about her precious baby perhaps having become an academic. "Was your little one very much into school, then?" Tomas asked, in what was probably enough of a sweet tone that Nick would catch on to the insincerity while Ana might not. "I'd say he's a creative. Only he calls it--"

Nick was advocating for himself somewhat at that point, objecting to being talked about instead of with, and Tomas bit back a snicker at the mention of Rapture. "Be pure," he said, almost automatically, rattling on, "...take a tour, through the sewer, don't strain your brain..."

Libby chose that moment to pipe up, her voice pitched as high as humanly possible: "--paint a train, you'll be singin' in the rain!" She giggled, clapping her hands over her mouth. "Oh, now Tomas is gonna scold me!" she said, "for singing in my little chickadee voice!"

One eyebrow raised and the other lowered, Tomas bit back a grimace, his fun in teasing Nick and in singing Blondie ruined. "No," Tomas said blandly to Ana, "I do not, in fact, work at Rapture. I am, in fact, an academic. And creative." He shot a smug look in Nick's direction, which was marred somewhat by the kid asking who Libby was. She planted her hands on her hips, the backs of her wrists and not the heels of her hands, gasping, "Ah! Tomas didn't mention me? His better half? His reason for life and living, his muse, the jelly to his all-natural no-sugar soy butter?"

"This is my ex-wife," Tomas said tightly. "Libby. I may have mentioned her." He had. Vociferously and with much rancour.

[nickambrose]

“Anything!” There was fuck all to hold onto, and the deck was slick with sea water. Another roll, dip and then suddenly the ship was righted again. Nick groaned, feeling the ache from being tossed about the ship like a rag doll. “Not here…dry land…” He’d been hoping for New York, but hadn’t quite got enough credits to dial in all too precisely. Though he did recall punching in a date –– just so happened Nick had been after an old, beautifully ornate, and first edition copy of Frankenstein. Which would’ve roughly landed them somewhere in the 1800s. “Guess work isn’t it?”

Steering. Yes, that would prove useful right now. Nick craned his head against the battering of salted winds, there was a deck above them, at the far end of the ship. They could reach it if they made a dash but there was a risk to that too. On the other hand, they were sitting ducks plonked in the middle holding on for dear life. “Up there.” Nick gestured, and then shifted to hold onto the railing she’d tethered herself too. He just about manoeuvred himself around to the foot of the stairs. His hand had slipped down into hers and slowly, made to move them both up onto the top deck. For better or worse it meant crawling on hands and knees. Reluctantly he let her go. There was some notion of responsibility, he’d brought her out here, and now they were on perilously steep waterlogged steps.

Nick made it to the top, and crouched behind the railing, one arm looped through it. “What I don’t understand.” He shouted, the sting of the wind nearly stealing the air from his lungs. “Is how this…ship is totally abandoned? Here?” Nick held out his hand to help haul Amelia up onto the deck. “Right let’s get this bitch out of here.” Nick scrambled around to the ship’s wheel, hauling himself up and heaving on it to guide the ship from harm. Though he wasn’t even sure there’d be freedom out of the heavy dark hangover of grey.

“What in the fuck are you two doing?” A voice cut through the roar of the storm, and Nick nearly leapt out of his skin, the wheel almost getting the better of him. Climbing up the stairs was a giant of a man. Nick nudged Amelia to whisper –

“Run or fight?”

Amelia had been on boats before. Growing up in California and all, and she'd missed the smell of a sea breeze in Seattle, but this was not how she had pictured finding it again.

She was soaked to the bone as soon as she was there, her hair whipped around and her teeth chattering. They should've used her credits, but sometimes you didn't want to know exactly where you were going, and the teleports had never done anything so unpredictable. The storm snapped her out of her daze, lurching her body violently to one side. She should've stayed in the library, she wasn't keen on the cold. Or dressed for it, but at least she wasn't wearing her skates. (It had been a bad idea to go through the teleport in them one too many times.)

At least she wasn't alone, but no, she may have been able to figure her way around a smaller, sleeker cabin in the gentle sway of the Los Angeles surf, but this was nothing like any boat she'd been on. "Hold onto what?!" She exclaimed, some distant echo of her writers brain writing poetry about how being frazzled in a storm was dangerous because she'd make the air about her crackle with static, and lightning could catch.

Another part of her brain, trapped in a life left behind long ago, made her flinch when Nick's hand wrapped around her arm, but she got past it quickly given everything else happening. The boat lurched again, and her free arm looped through a gap in the railing, trying to tether them both to something as the world tipped around them. They still landed heavily against the side of the ship, but at least they weren't lost in the waves. Covered in it though, again, Amelia's eyes stinging. "Just where were we supposed to end up?" She groaned, though she knew that wasn't really important right now. "There has to be a- a wheel, right? Some way to steer."

[nickambrose]

[nickambrose]

It was a shitshow. A merry-go-round of iridescent haunts. Though not every misshapen ghost was the expected slivery see-through substance. Would it be better to pack the night in? This was supposedly what Halloween was all about, and in some ways it was probably a gift. Except Nick was watching the figure of his mum call out to him. There were some things he didn’t really want to interrogate. Instead, he honed in on Kaz partly because he looked like he’d actually shit himself. Nick snorted, laughter coming out in reels as he held himself high as if to claim the chaos as his handiwork. “Y’know, you look like a riiiight twat.”

Nick hummed, this would all resolve itself with another shot. He disappeared to free a bottle of ciroc from underneath the bar. “God fuck y’know years ago Mik made me go to this…shit what do you call it. I don’t know some haunted house crap they chase you with chainsaws that she-bang.” 

‘Hey kid…’ 

Yeah, yup, nope the ghost of his mother crying out hey kid was not creepy. Nick unscrewed and popped the lid. “You wanna know the truth?” He was speaking with a little too much enthusiasm for someone who was about to knock back neat vodka. Good job Mik was nowhere to be seen. “I didn’t plan any of this and pretty sure that’s my…fucking mum.” She looked gormless, her hair matted with blood and what remained of her dress torn at the knee. Important to distinguish, because she was standing, floating, on what was only one black-blue leg. 

‘¡Escucha!’

“Real mum. Dead mum. Not alive but somehow…she’s here.” Nick chuckled this would’ve been the point, if his night-fuzed memory served him correctly, that he’d been in deep shit. “You should wear pvc more often.” He said, in Kaz’s direction before summing up the courage to turn to his mum. “Welcome to the end of the world mum.” Nick threw his arms out wide, spilling a good portion of booze in the process over some unwitting patrons. “Christ you don’t look good. I’m Nicholas, Nick, now.” Get that hastily out of the way. Then introductions? What was he supposed to do? “This is Kaz I guess.”

Sleep was always difficult for Kaz, even as a child. It needed to be coaxed, coddled, even bribed. So it was very weird to wake up in his stall, in the middle of a party no less. No memory of how he decided on a nap, and not like him at all.

But, the scavenger chalked it up to going too hard too soon after an injury. Orchid flowers given to him rested on a workbench for safe keeping. Kaz noted a small puddle of water beside them, one that wasn't initially there. He ticked through various explanations-- no water source in the trading area, no recent rain, etcetera. However, Kaz flew too high to spend much more time on the curiosity. Off to the after party for him...

Kaz took a shot offered and slapped the glass back on the bar. And then he heard a sudden, out of place sound. Slosh, slosh, slosh. Like someone walked through knee-deep water behind him. Then, the sensation of water churned around his hand. He yanked his hand away and he spun to look. What he saw: If water could be suspended in air like smoke. Wet plumes circulated on multiple currents and obscured a figure at the center.

A voice came from the center of this ominous water feature. 'Kazzy... it's me.'

He staggered backwards to escape, interrupting a deep conversation between Freddie Krueger and Edward Scissorhands (also not great, considering he had a deep cut stitched up on his neck).

Kaz veered and kept the momentum moving forward. As he stumbled to further point in the room, he heard a different voice chase after him: Nick.

And once Kaz came to a halt, someone else piped up too. "Huh? See what, what am I supposed--" Kaz let out a deep shout. Holy shit, well it was a Halloween party.

He backed up to stand with Nick with a sigh, hand over his heart. "Okay, you fucking got me. Scared the shit out of me, but. That was... that was good. Had me convinced I heard..." He trailed off with a shake of his head. (He might have a couple cigs on him, but didn't feel like sharing).

Kaz gestured to the older woman caked in blood and a presumed costume-y death. "Obviously not real. Looks realistic though. But I'm pretty fucked up, gotta admit. Where'd you get all this from?" Then, a look around. "Who else is dressed up then? Anyone else gonna jump out at me?"

[nickambrose]

“Oh fuck off.” Nick uttered, eyes narrowing as Emre bolstered himself by flying out offhand compliments meant to cause catastrophic damage. Falling right for the trap that was laid out for him, Nick brought a hand to his face exasperated by it all. There was a sad kernel of truth in Emre’s words. Ana was a little younger than he was now, and that was the real tragedy of it all. Something he’d never really seen in his angst-fuelled youth. Even now, Nick had done a good job of turning a blind eye to that. Focusing on feeding them all sweet highs. The wedding. His achievements. He, himself, and none of the pitfalls. No self-destruction.

“Mmph…right so jinn are good, but I was brought up believe souls moved on y’know…” Nick gestured with his hands. “They didn’t come back. No, it’s definitely not old memories, or not exactly.” They were an interesting pair, Emre’s ex and his mum, another enlightening moment that he couldn’t quite read her. Not in the way he’d grown accustomed to for those he surrounded himself with. She wasn’t so much old memories rehashed, but so totally detached to him that it was hard to mesh back together. Maybe that was a little bit pessimistic. 

“Space dust. Well Emre tell you what theories like that should really get your name written down in history, enlightening. Fascinating.” Nick drawled, dry and with a sliver of a smile. Melody interjected loud enough for them all to hear about shagging, and that was about as much as Nick needed to learn about Emre’s sex life. It was a rather messy cross-section of life spliced together for a higher chaos.

‘Oh he was–’ Ana was cut off, and in some ways Nick was a little relieved. What was there to say? Melody started spouting off about death, a train, cage fights, he tuned out hearing nothing but fast-paced static until she sung his name. Nick turned back to her, a sly grin. “Of course it is, who wouldn’t want to cut loose at end of the world?” So much for uplifting, Melody turned back to Ana, with another question.

‘Well…’ She looked adrift. ‘Nick’s father and I were going away for a weekend, I had an art show and I believe a lorry went straight into the side of us but if I’m honest it’s all just a smidge hazy. It was a long time ago and Nick well you were such a little kid then, a child.’ His mum seemed to reappoint Emre, a calm smile even though there was tremors under the surface. ‘He was such a shy little kid, my darling angel. I’m so proud of him for coming so far. And well, Melody it sounds like you lived quite the life. I do think, unfortunately, that you are dead love.’

“Well, this is charming.” Nick chimed, eager to side-step to another topic that didn’t involve his youth. “Emre I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on us, keeping Melody such a secret. I don’t think you’ve even ever mentioned the lovely lady.” 

"Obvi it's real. You're seeing what I'm seeing, innit. Your mum's fit, by the way," Emre commented offhandedly. Nick's 'ghost' mum could've been half-decapitated and guts spilling out, and Emre would've still called her 'fit'. After all, this was about annoying Nick, nothing more.

Emre kissed his teeth. "Not demons exactly. Jinn could be good, could be evil..." He glanced over at Nick's mum, and Melody. Melody more tentative and expecting cruelty from a woman so posh. "Isn't exactly like they's old memories replaying," Emre mused, watching Melody's reactions to Nick's mum. Fascinated, really. She was real, but not alive. Or she was a jinn that believed it was Melody. He forced his gaze back to Nick.

"They're here to bother us? Fuck with us? Island's doing? Might - " Emre thought about Walid, and their worship of Flower Tower. "Oi! Might be, erm, time-traveling! The teleports and...electric...erm, misfeed. Space dust..." Emre huffed. "Fucking hell, mate, I don't know."

"It's alright, innit? Could do this." Melody replyied to Nick's mum, perhaps a bit too eager to get on mum's good side. She giggled. "Haven't had a drink though have I. No one's offered -" She threw a glare at Emre; like a good boyfriend, Emre rolled his eyes. "And what's the shagging gonna be like - oop! I mean, erm. Soz, ma'am, no offense and that."

Melody beamed (or rather hummed, like an old LCD tv) at being called 'lovely' by the posh bint, and Emre smiled wanly at mum's question. "I'm sort of an organizer around here, Mrs Nick's Mum," he airily replied. "Mrs Nick's Mum, can I ask you a question? What was little Nicholas like as a little one then? I've been dying to know but your Nicholas here, he's rather shy, isn't he."

"I'm not dead!" Melody protested to Nick, then sided with Nick's mum. "I mean we - we're not dead! Or...well I suppose I am, now that I think about it. A train fell on my head, Emmy. Whole bloody thing just toppled right on me and that was it. Done for. I was doing quite well for myself too. I had a new gig after London fell, didn't I. Bookie accounting for cage fights, in the Underground. Told you I had brains, you're the daft one between us innit. Oh but the cage nights was proper lush, you would've loved it Emmy. You too, Nick! This club yours? Oh it's brilliant," Melody gushed happily, looking back at Nick's mum. "How'd you reckon you died, luv?"

[nickambrose]

“Mmm–-right, yeah no you’re devastatingly handsome Arden.” Nick leaned in against the doorway, “but I prefer not to be a dirtbag in-front of my mum.” Or otherwise reap the repercussion no doubt. Actually, Nick didn’t really have much of an idea what would happen. All those memories of her had been so hazy and distant. How was he supposed to really cling on to anything when she’d passed so long ago? Now she was here and Nick was grateful, absolutely, but also inclined to ask when they would all pass on. Mik had finally come around from his vow of solitude though he was harping on about bad-vibes and bad-energy. 

“Mum this is Arden, the island’s resident handsome doctor, and Arden this is my mum. Don’t mind the err…outfit she’s dressed for halloween.”

‘Right, gosh I’m so sorry Arden this really isn’t my Sunday best.’ Ana had swooped in practically past Nick to peer at Arden. ‘It’s really impressive. Oh, hello back there? Sorry are we intruding? My son here has been informing me of all the different sorts of relationships and well a woman doctor…’

“Riiight, y’know sure, sure uh, actually I did do that but…right I guess I just wanted to ask.” Nick’s voice progressively dropped, until he was at a whisper. “You can see her too right?” It was all good and well everyone in the moment seeing the chaos of last night for themselves, but in the aftermath. Some part of him hoped it was real, or even just a shard of the truth. A thimble. Nick hadn’t clocked at first, or at least had been too absorbed in his own woes to pay much heed. But he could see the way her eyes were a little raw, glassy from tears.

Nick kept the whisper quiet voice as he asked. “you alright? Also...I don't mean to be rude but who is that?" He subtly gestured towards the ethereal woman beside her. Another ghost? Hallucination? Whatever they were supposed to be calling these hauntings.

Arden woke up slowly, a little hungover from the night's festivities. Her Morticia Adams dress and wig lay draped over her desk chair. Arden rolled over and immediately felt a chill, gooseflesh creeping over her body.

"Oh, I'm sorry baby." Elena said. Arden blinked. Rubbed her eyes. Opened them again. Elena was still there, in her bed, looking a little pale but no worse for wear. She was glowing, actually. Arden had no words. She reached out for Elena, but Elena just shook her head.

"I don't think touch is included," Elena continued. "But we can talk. We can see each other again. That's more than we thought we'd ever get again though, right?" Arden nodded slowly, tears in her eyes. But she still couldn't help but reach out again for Elena's hand. She shivered when she felt the air where Elena's hand should be and was repulsed by how wrong the whole thing felt.

"What's happening?" Arden finally asked, her voice hoarse. She couldn't stop the tears from flowing, but it didn't matter. Elena was here, in whatever capacity. And that alone was a miracle of its own. If this was a hallucination, Arden would gladly stay in it forever.

But there was a knock on the door before Elena could answer. Arden scrambled, throwing on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater. Arden paused then, wondering if she turned away if the illusion would shatter.

Elena smiled then and Arden felt something in soul stitch back together. As if the ache she had been carrying for nearly three years was finally beginning to heal.

"It's okay, baby. Go get it. I won't go anywhere."

Arden walked to the door and opened it, hastily wiping tears from her face.

"What, Nick? You don't think I'm handsome?" She felt Elena hovering beside her and did her best not to look back at her, though it was nearly impossible not to. But she saw a woman next to Nick that had the same glow as Elena and her mind began to whirl.

[nickambrose]

Do you think your mom wants what's best for you?

"Yeah absolutely, why wouldn't she? She's probably the most excited person on this fucking island for the wedding."

[nickambrose]

Nick gave Walid a measured look, what did he do? “I didn’t do anything well actually tiny lie I think mum may have fridged it? Somehow.” Behind him a voice piped up, effervescent and floating as if she didn’t have a care in the world. ‘Hey! Be grateful I can’t scold you for that Nicholas…’ It seemed the warmth of their reunion was waning, or Nick’s patience had finally worn too thin. “Not sure what’s up with it but hey, you’ll figure it out won’t you?” They seemed inclined, or at least willing to help and Nick could work with that.

‘You haven’t even introduced me.’ 

No he hadn’t partly because he was hoping they weren’t totally tethered together like a kid with a party balloon. “Walid this is my mother, Ana she’s visiting. Which y’know is lovely we’re all dearly hoping she’ll stick around to stay for the wedding. Ana this is Walid…they’re…” How would Nick describe them? Other than occasionally useful? And not bad to look at? “One of the workers round here won’t find anyone else that works half as hard as Walid.” 

Walid was in a scientific state of euphoria. They were so sucked up by their current task that the whole world didn’t seem to matter. Not the whole world: just the tower. They had all the tools needed right next to them, could continue moment by moment. Such a trance wasn’t something they had often, not without the drugs that Kaz supplied. They were biting the inside of their mouth a lot, probably to a point of bleeding, but their brain was to—

They looked up when their name was called, regarding the familiar face of whom they had forgotten the name. “Huh?” They blinked at the phone that was waved in front of their face. They grabbed the phone, checked it quickly, then looked up again. “What did you already do?” they asked, their nice way of not saying ‘did you try turning it on and off again?’. Luckily it was the type that they could take apart easily.

[nickambrose]

“Well I’ve heard otherwise…but if I’m honest the credits are too good to pass up for sitting about for a few hours. Interesting? Not really. The guy over on screen four has been scratching his ass. Literally, not the figurative kind.” He watched the way she danced her fingers, knowing full well what that meant. Against his better judgement he slid the vintage sliver box over the desk. “Been trying to find something fun to watch, y’know like live action family sitcom only with more death and less laughter tracks.” Thus far he hadn’t found much.

“Thanks by the way, I know final fitting and all that is to come but wedding outfits look good. That’s all that really matters after all.” Nick flicked his cigarette forming an ash pile on the worktop. Probably was some kinda health violation but who the fuck cared? The Flower Tower could sue him later. “Shit…” Nick leaned forwards as one of the screens flickered to a new scene. “That’s Gregory Mooney…” The silver haired fox that everyone loved, more to the point was still alive and apparently thriving.

Nick shifted in his seat. “God he still looks good. He’s even got the battle scars, christ, y’know I wouldn’t turn him down.” There probably wasn’t many people Nick would turn down. “Can’t figure out who it is he’s with…” Gregory was in some dilapidated shopping mall, the likes that should’ve been dead a decade ago. “Jesus fuck it’s all kicking off today. Screen six we’ve got ourselves a stand-off.” 

When Tamyra first got onto Pan, the mandatory watch shifts were both a blessing and a curse - she felt like the tower was taunting her, showing her all the life she could have had, all the things she was missing out, while at the same time, anytime she got a glimpse of the people she loved, she hung onto it like glue, wanting every second to last a lifetime.

Things have been different since the end of the world, since the teleports have opened up - she usually used the time to scour for new places to visit, while also hoping she could find Nakeisha and maybe one day actually bring her here. Going to a shift felt less of a chore these days.

And when she saw that she was assigned with Nick, she gave him a smile. Could have been better, but could have been waaaaay worse, too. "Hello to you too, nice to see you. I'm doing good, thank you for asking," she teased the other as she sat down next to Nick and held out her hands, her fingers dancing as she silently asked for a cigarette for herself. "You know, mandatory means I cannot skip know matter what. Have you seen anything interesting so far?"

[nickambrose]

The voice piped up before Nick really saw her, but she zipped into sight adorned in what was nearly matching trackie bottoms and top. How very cute. Nick snickered in agreement, the corners of his smile not wavering as she—-Melody—turned her attack on him. And his mum. Nick would happily bask in being called pretty boy and ignore the rest, if it wasn’t for the current company. The pair bickered over pedantic details whilst Nick’s gaze cast back to his mum. She was watching it all unfold, but it was impossible to distinguish if she was pearl clutching or accepting. 

Then, as if this entire ordeal couldn’t get stranger Emre leaned in to lower his voice just for them. “Look Emre I don’t want to believe it anymore than you do but I think this is real…” He’d ruled out one long communal trip because it was affecting even those that hadn’t partied it up. Then, there was the theory it was some fuckery being emitted by the tower. Some mass hysteria hallucination, or projections. But it was all too…personal. Their hauntings could talk…interact…they seemed to be no different to their once alive counterparts. 

He didn’t believe the crap they’d fed him at Sunday school, but glancing back at Melody and his mum… “…right demons, say that’s true what purpose do they have here?” Nick drifted catching a snippet of what the women were talking about. 

‘I’m so sorry sweetheart, how are you finding it so far? It’s quite difficult not being able to touch them…’ 

Didn’t seem particularly evil to Nick, but then he was no expert in that. Besides why choose him mum? She’d been gone so long that Nick had half forgotten what she even looked like—how she acted. It all trickled back to him slowly, the effortless way she swanned about. The easy smiles that Nick had unintentionally emulated. “They wouldn’t choose her anyway.” Nick declared, so sure that if a demon wanted to seduce him they’d come in the skin of Jojo or Lee. But he wasn’t sure if they were alive or dead. 

“Melody seems like a right charmer.” Apparently, they chose that moment to reassert their ghostly-demonic energies back to him, and Emre, probably. ‘Nicholas, please, Melody is lovely. What do you here Emre? I seem to be learning everything about everyone! It’s so incredible what you’ve done here…’  Nick had left out a few important facts — one that they weren’t here voluntarily, two that the apocalypse had ravaged everything else. He addressed Melody, feeling a little bit like a sitting duck between the three of them. “Yeah, sure you're really lovely. Except for y'know being dead and all that.” 

‘I nearly joined a group a little like this before I married your father…’ She drifted on, and Nick stared wondering what she meant by group like this. Did she think this was a commune? Some probably would call it such. This little revelation also spurred more questions. “I’m sorry hold up a second.” 

“Can we just rewind back to that for a second? Put a pin in that and save it for later.” Nick wasn't sure at what point the party had started to feel like a drag.

"Erm..." Emre looked down at himself. He had abandoned half of his Halloween get-up late in the night - or early in the morning, depending on how one looked at it. With ghosts in tow, Club Rapture became the afterparty to attend; and with the spirit-chaos, it was Emre's perfect chance to get in.

But he'd abandoned the grills a while back (they got annoying) and his mask was now artfully off to one side of his head, revealing the 'scar' make-up that Tamyra did on his eye and cheekbone. The orchids got lost somewhere at the party too, perhaps handed over to some Matrixy-partygoer.

Now, Emre was left with -

"He's dressed as a twat, is what," Melody piped up, flickering into view behind Emre, like she was airing on a dodgy television screen. She blipped away then reappeared closer to Nick, looking him curiously up and down. She was a tall woman, her hair cropped short and baby hairs pressed. She was bedecked in streetwear - tiny bralet that barely covered her chest, under an oversized Nike zip-up that slid off her shoulder. "And before you say anything to him, you look a proper twat as well, prettyboy. Wot - big mans brought his mummy to a bloody party then?"

"Melz, Melody, calm. Allow it," Emre reached out to Melody - he'd kept reaching out to Melody, only to remember she was dead, when his hand passed right through her. "Nick and Mrs Nick's-mum innt no enemy. We're mates, innit bruv. Just like your mum says. How d'you do, Mrs Mum, course I'm invited to the wedding, Nick'd love having me, wouldn't you, Nick. Right - and this is my ex-girl-"

"Um, excuse me, Emmy?"

"My girlfriend, Melody. Fucking leave it out, Melz, alright? You're fucking dead, how much more ex can you be?" Emre then looked to Nick and said to him, as an aside. "If I'm honest, I don't think this is real ghosts, yeah. Is jinn. Jinn dressed up to be our dead, yeah. Their own fancy dress party and that."

Melody gave a tentative smile to Nick's mum. "Alright, Missus?"

Emre stared. "Right, lovely. Now they're chatting to each other."

[nickambrose]

Nick hadn’t really noticed the other woman. She brought herself into the forefront of attention and for a moment Nick’s gaze cast over Tomas to watch her. She had a face like was she sucking on a lemon. Smiles that didn’t quite reach up to her eyes, but then again she was also hollow and an iridescent silver in the light. Who was he to judge. Evidently, no-one really needed him to partake in conversation because Tomas had turned his attention to his mum. Talking as if Nick wasn’t really there. ‘No! He hasn’t, see I would’ve put my money on him being some form of creative or even…an academic. I suspect I’m very wrong, he’s grown so much I just can’t get over it…’ 

Brows pinched together in anguish-come-confusion, “uh…yeah y’know I’m still here? I bring a little of both mum, this island needs…a creative center and that’s where Rapture comes in.” It was also, on some nights, too much vodka and just a touch of cocaine but probably best not to delve into those stories. Not like Tomas would know much of it anyway. Which in itself was a shame. Nick cast his gaze back from him, to the woman and her halo of red. She too was marred by her own demise though it was subtler than his mum––but she was, unfortunately, missing a leg.

‘What do you do Tomas? Do you work at...Rapture?’ Nick had an inkling there was a modicum of distaste there. It was becoming evident piece by piece why they’d shipped him off to the nuns––and importantly, who'd had a hand in that. “Uh, better question who’s the redhead Tomas?” Who was haunting him. 'Nick, please be polite.' Nick cast Ana a brief look that totaled up to–wasn't he?

"Nick's ... what now?"

Granted, not a terribly elegant or civil response, but Tomas was having something of A Morning himself, a fact he was reminded of when Libby -- or what was a terribly realistic facsimile of Libby, aside from the blood streaming down from her eyebrow over her entire face, bisecting it down to the chin -- peeped over his shoulder to say, "His mum! His mother, his mommy, his maternal unit--"

"I get it. Thank you." Tomas stayed facing stubbornly forward, his gaze trained on Nick and Nick alone, until he felt Libby drift off and away. Lingering in his peripheral vision as Tomas focused on the woman hovering next to Nick, who was looking distinctly stressed.

And Tomas could see why. Even with the unsettling phenomenon of these ghosts, Ana was ... wearing plenty of the evidence of her demise. "Er," Tomas said, then rallied into politeness to say, "Pleased to meet you, Ana. We do work together, your son and I, yes." He refrained from looking over at Nick before asking, "Has he told you much about what he does here? His chosen contribution to our daily life and our community?"

[nickambrose]

This was starting to feel like a bad idea, not just because he was traipsing after Orion through what appeared to be a creepy-ass forest. But because he was coming to realise at the end of it he couldn’t just skulk off and let Orion do the heavy lifting. “Really just anything at this point sweetie! We’ve burned through so much tonight and I can’t be dipping into the wedding-booze.” That had all been specifically curated and was top shelf stuff. It was not for the masses. “Incredible, if we jump around in time is this just like an infinite pool of whiskey? Or you coming out here and brewing it yourself Orion.” Nick smirked, crossing the threshold with just a casual glance over at Orion behind.

“Yes but for my own personal use.” He usually had the likes of Orion, Kaz and others do the grunt work of finding booze, and picking up a few little cheeky extras. They were his suppliers, why should he be getting involved? Nick didn’t want to waste credits on something as mundane as that when they were hard to come by anyway. “I like a little more…luxury when I use the teleports. You ever use them for non-business purposes? Trying to find someone? That seems to be the main kick for people.” Nick would’ve marveled at the giant copper tanks and pipes. It was like a maze. They carved out a path towards the back.

“Honestly I hate whiskey but it’s good for business. What’s your drink of choice?” He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Orion in Rapture.

starter for: @nickambrose

location: Versailles (the one in Kentucky)

"It should be around here." Orion cast a glance around, taking in his surroundings as he lead Nick through the little piece of forest towards the building already visible through the treeline. Why the Woodford Reserve Distillery was so far outside of town, seperated from the rest, Orion didn't know. He had paid enough credits to get them relatively close, but they'd still landed just a bit off, in the woods surrounding them.

"This should just be a quick run. Anything specific you are going for?" Orion asked, casting a glance back at the other man to make sure that Nick was they following as they stepped onto the grass surrounding the Distillery. The building was a little overgrown, clearly abandoned, but otherwise in good condition. What they were looking for was generally obvious- whiskey. "I should be able to take one or two of the barrels back. It should be aged well enough by now."

Orion took a step towards the building. "Do you use the teleports on your own frequently? I believe we have not made a run together."

[nickambrose]

Location: Arden's house @arden-fischer

There was something inexplicably not fun about having his mum crash. Needling thoughts and wishes of not wanting her to stay for much longer would spring up. Quick as they would come Nick felt the guilt creep in. Shouldn’t he be grateful his mum was here? But there was a gulf that had formed in her two decade long absence, one that Nick wasn’t even sure how to bridge. If her being here was permanent or if this was only going to be fleeting. What if she wasn’t even fucking real to begin with? Just some long drawn out trip from the party, or some trippy electro-fuckery from the tower. 

Nick had snuck out of the house, mum in tow, to go make his way over to Fischer’s place. If the holy-man didn’t have the answers, Nick was never going to forget Tomas in that white suit, then maybe she would. ‘Where are we going?’ It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to know where he was going, there was no secret to it. It was the why. “Err…the doctor’s place figured it would be a good place to start. Figure out what’s happening. Mum, there’s something else I need to tell you about me and Mik…” They’d rounded up to Arden’s place, and Nick knowing full well he didn’t want that conversation within her earshot added. “Later, yeah?” He knocked twice, and then politely waited as much as one could with a floating dead mum. ‘Oh! Is he a handsome doctor?’ 

“Christ mum, no–”

[nickambrose]

It was one thing to have the after party crashed by the likes of Emre, but ghosts. It was putting a real downer on what should’ve been some easygoing fun. Nick had been tempted to shut up shop, but where was the fun in that? And, now with Emre here it was a sticking point to stay open. Prove the haunts of their past couldn’t ruin the vibe. Even if his mum was doing a damn good job of it. Nick exhaled, he was just a little too sober to be dealing with Emre. 

“Not…” Nick didn’t get another word in, he was spitballing light on his feet and apparently eager to get the quick jabs in. “Yeah…no, not Samoan. What exactly are you dressed as?” Nick stared, lips pursed trying to decide what it was that Emre had wrangled together for a costume. “Yes we’re—-” The wedding was evidently a beacon because she floated right on back.

‘Yeeeeess my baby is getting married. Hello hello, it’s so lovely to meet you…’  Ana’s gaze flicked between them both as if she'd caught Nick with a friend from school. “Mum this is Emre he lives here on the island too, and Emre this is my mum.” What was he supposed to say? There wasn’t any etiquette surrounding your mum meeting your mortal enemy. Suppose Emre was dressed the part.

‘Are you coming to the wedding Emre? Gosh, I hope I can stick around for it! I just can’t get over how much my boy has grown but…’ He could see the way her mouth quivered even underneath the thick layer of dried-down blood. Glimmers of her in a different light, that teenage him had never noticed. “I don’t know if that’s a…” Nick drifted, unnerved by the entire ordeal. Ana interjected anyway, ‘I love your costume Emre! Let me guess…you aren’t the Phantom not with the turtleneck. Paul Kersey…no...wait don't tell me, gosh! I just can’t get it. You kids are so cute though. My boy the vampire rockstar!’ 

Christ. Nick needed a fag, or something to ground him in the midst of this unrelenting carnage. "Yeah well, y'know it is Halloween." How was he supposed to know the ghosts of their past would appear.

It was really only a matter of time. For all of it - for Emre to find a way to sneak into Club Rapture, and consequently for Nick Ambrose to catch him in the act. Emre resented Nick's success, straight up. They'd arrived on Pan pretty much at the same time; and where Emre transformed from hunter to a farmer, Nick (in Emre's opinion), seemed to stay exactly the same. Nick didn't cleave to the island, he carved out the island to suit himself.

And the worst part was, it was absolutely brilliant, too. A fucking discotheque, in the middle of trade, living, and industry. The people fucking loved it - even when Nick made it exclusive. Typical people just wanted access even more....Emre included. He wasn't above the glamour. He wanted luxe, just like anyone else.

But fucking Nick Ambrose held the key.

Emre hadn't even intended to stay long. He'd just made a deal with a supplier, who left the back door a little ajar. It was...a tad pathetic an entrance, honestly. So when Nick discovered Emre's invasion, it was anti-climactic to say the least.

Still, Emre grinned smugly. "That's racist," he said casually, then nodded his chin towards Nick. "The fuck is you anyway, mate. Haven't yet figured it out. You what. Samoan, like?"

Emre looked to the door, then back at Nick. "Oh come off it, man. You look like you haven't had this much excitement in weeks. Mik withholding until the wedding, then?" A casual gulp of his drink, as Emre worked the 'mood-hoover' situation into something sparkly, angry, fun. For both their benefits, really. He was doing Nick a favour, poking at him. "That even happening?"

[nickambrose]

Location: Halloween party, or after party @kazxraval

Nights often had a tendency to blur, jag around the edges and sink into endless boozy filled pits. This wasn’t really like any of the others. In the sense that Nick didn’t wake up in bed, nor even on the couch, or anywhere close to home. He reeled, hands sticky from grovelling, as he pushed himself up everything spun into a neon garish blur. “Fuck..” He blinked, steadying himself against the bar. “Mum?” Definitely an apparition, some kind of fucked-up-halloween-scare. His mum stood covered in gore was not the high he wanted to be chasing. The music was still blaring, by all accounts the party was still going. ‘Oh my gosh, kid it’s you isn’t it? It’s really you…’

“Hey––UH…who the fuck turned this into a horror house.” Nick’s gaze scanned the nearby vicinity, landing on one moody dealer-come-goth sci-fi boy who had probable cause. He stalked after Kaz. “Hey, hey, hey!” There was a slight misshapen rhythm to his steps, the galloping walk of someone who’d had one too many drinks and not enough Mik-mandated water breaks. Nick immediately changed tacts upon cornering Kaz. Mostly because his mum had floated up behind Neo-Kaz to say. ‘Please can we just talk?’  “Please tell me you can see her…fuck me…” Nick ran his hands over his face. This had to be a bad trip, there was no way someone could make a projection that spot on, that personalised. 

“I need a fag, wait…” Nick had been so painfully self-absorbed he hadn’t noticed the carnage unfolding all around them. “Is this…is this real?”

[nickambrose]

Location: The Agora, the morning after @tomasespinosa

In Nick’s humble opinion it couldn’t be called a hangover if he hadn’t actually slept. Last night’s spilling of the ether, the other side, whatever one wanted to call it, had left it’s mark on them all. Sleep apparently had been an optional extra. Hunched over in the agora with a cup of fresh coffee – about the only time he could stomach to drink it, in dire emergencies, black and several sugars too many.

Beside him, a voice piped up. ‘Sweetie, what did you say you do around here?’ Nick mindlessly stirred his drink unusually quiet only because his mum floated around to face him, he flinched. He hadn’t gotten used to seeing the gore. It was one thing to read about the crash, they’d never let him see their bodies, and now he understood why. ‘Oh! Who’s that?’ Nick followed the point of her finger. “Tomas.” Wait. “Mum wait here, yeah? I’ll just be a sec.”

Nick sprung up feeling all of a sudden bolstered by a hit of caffeine. “Hey, hey Tomas.” He waved him down, like he was hailing a ride off this damn island. Tomas always seemed to be…put together. Good first port of call for, “what the fuck is happening?”

Apparently, Nick’s simple instruction of wait was insufficient. ‘Hello, Tomas! It’s a pleasure to meet you I'm Nick's mum, Ana.’ His mum had floated on up, all broad smiles as if she was greeting a patron. 'How do you know my son? Oh! Do you two work together?'