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fandomweekly2019-10-24 08:09 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in fandomweekly2019-10-24 08:09 pm
Entry tags:
[#029] Welcome to a Show About Death (Original)
Theme Prompt: #029 - Ghosts
Title: Welcome to a Show About Death
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 753
Summary: Becka takes on an assignment that’s a little bit out there.
Bats flutter out of the attic over their heads as two people make their way in, lugging heavy pieces of electronic equipment with them into the room. Dust swirls up off the floor and gets caught in Becka’s throat, causing her to cough briefly, before shaking her head.
“Man, I can’t believe we’re about to see some ghosts.”
The house they’ve entered has been condemned for years, and there’s always been rumors that it’s haunted, but no one has ever been able to prove it. As a journalist, Becka never says something is or isn’t real before she’s seen it in front of her eyes for herself, but she’s heard all the stories. She’s excited for the opportunity to find actual proof. Once the tech is placed down, she starts snapping pictures with her phone – if the ghosts did decide to appear, at least the aesthetics were right for it.
“Don’t call them ghosts.”
Hanson’s dry voice speaks up from behind the screen of a complex portable computer system, with a portable screen extending from the top. One manicured finger runs through the dust on top of the surface with an equally dry look of disdain, before flicking it away from him towards the floor behind it. Becka flashes him a grin, before going to push up onto the table opposite him, letting her jean clad legs kick out in front of her.
“What would you rather call them? It’s almost like the word already exists for a reason.”
Hanson’s lips press together before he straightens, smoothing down his impeccably tailored suit with a frown. “Calling them ghosts is … reductive. What they actually are is much more complex than that.”
“Is this just you trying to get around needing to scientifically say that ghosts exist, because I think if it is you might have come on the wrong assignment.” That seems to be the wrong thing to say however, because Hanson only seems to clamp down further, turning back to his computer screen, almost as though he’s trying to effectively ignore her for as long as he can. Becka frowns, studying the man across from her. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Just proved that you fundamentally misunderstand what we’re doing here.”
“We’re trying to prove that ghosts exist.”
“No, that’s what you don’t understand. I’ve already proven it.”
Becka pauses from her place on the table, before sliding off and moving closer to him. Her long pink hair drapes over one shoulder. “What do you mean you already have proven it? Then what’s all this for? Why the hell did you hire me in the first place?”
“Because I can find them. But I can’t –” His voice cuts off, and he swallows hard, before extending his hands out to her. “I struggle with connecting to them. I need someone who is better with … empathy.”
Becka’s face softens and she steps forward to place her hand in his. “Okay. I mean, I’m in. I’m already here. But if they’re already dead …”
“They’re not just dead. They’re stuck. I’m not sure of the science behind it but maybe it’s not all science. Not everything can be.” He huffs, and he opens his mouth, about to explain more when one of the sirens starts to go off on his set up. He pulls away from Becka, turning his attention back to the screen as his fingers run over the keys quickly. “They’re coming. We’ll talk about this later.”
Becka’s about to protest – how can she help him when she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to be doing here? – but before she can ask for that clarification, the temperature in the attic drops twenty degrees and her breath clouds the air on her next exhale. The odd thing is, it doesn’t feel like the air simply changed. It feels like the heat in the room has been pulled away from the inhabitants to another point in the center of the room.
The air begins to steam and crackle, taking up the form of something that could be humanoid. As it becomes more defined, it begins to take on a face, old and distorted, almost as though the ghost had been wasting away for some time now. The more details begin to appear, the more Becka’s jaw begins to drop, and she can’t believe what she’s seeing.
“Oh my God.”
Hanson smirks from behind his computer screen, continuing to type away as he takes readings. “Congratulations, Becka. You’ve just met your first remnant.”
Title: Welcome to a Show About Death
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 753
Summary: Becka takes on an assignment that’s a little bit out there.
Bats flutter out of the attic over their heads as two people make their way in, lugging heavy pieces of electronic equipment with them into the room. Dust swirls up off the floor and gets caught in Becka’s throat, causing her to cough briefly, before shaking her head.
“Man, I can’t believe we’re about to see some ghosts.”
The house they’ve entered has been condemned for years, and there’s always been rumors that it’s haunted, but no one has ever been able to prove it. As a journalist, Becka never says something is or isn’t real before she’s seen it in front of her eyes for herself, but she’s heard all the stories. She’s excited for the opportunity to find actual proof. Once the tech is placed down, she starts snapping pictures with her phone – if the ghosts did decide to appear, at least the aesthetics were right for it.
“Don’t call them ghosts.”
Hanson’s dry voice speaks up from behind the screen of a complex portable computer system, with a portable screen extending from the top. One manicured finger runs through the dust on top of the surface with an equally dry look of disdain, before flicking it away from him towards the floor behind it. Becka flashes him a grin, before going to push up onto the table opposite him, letting her jean clad legs kick out in front of her.
“What would you rather call them? It’s almost like the word already exists for a reason.”
Hanson’s lips press together before he straightens, smoothing down his impeccably tailored suit with a frown. “Calling them ghosts is … reductive. What they actually are is much more complex than that.”
“Is this just you trying to get around needing to scientifically say that ghosts exist, because I think if it is you might have come on the wrong assignment.” That seems to be the wrong thing to say however, because Hanson only seems to clamp down further, turning back to his computer screen, almost as though he’s trying to effectively ignore her for as long as he can. Becka frowns, studying the man across from her. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Just proved that you fundamentally misunderstand what we’re doing here.”
“We’re trying to prove that ghosts exist.”
“No, that’s what you don’t understand. I’ve already proven it.”
Becka pauses from her place on the table, before sliding off and moving closer to him. Her long pink hair drapes over one shoulder. “What do you mean you already have proven it? Then what’s all this for? Why the hell did you hire me in the first place?”
“Because I can find them. But I can’t –” His voice cuts off, and he swallows hard, before extending his hands out to her. “I struggle with connecting to them. I need someone who is better with … empathy.”
Becka’s face softens and she steps forward to place her hand in his. “Okay. I mean, I’m in. I’m already here. But if they’re already dead …”
“They’re not just dead. They’re stuck. I’m not sure of the science behind it but maybe it’s not all science. Not everything can be.” He huffs, and he opens his mouth, about to explain more when one of the sirens starts to go off on his set up. He pulls away from Becka, turning his attention back to the screen as his fingers run over the keys quickly. “They’re coming. We’ll talk about this later.”
Becka’s about to protest – how can she help him when she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to be doing here? – but before she can ask for that clarification, the temperature in the attic drops twenty degrees and her breath clouds the air on her next exhale. The odd thing is, it doesn’t feel like the air simply changed. It feels like the heat in the room has been pulled away from the inhabitants to another point in the center of the room.
The air begins to steam and crackle, taking up the form of something that could be humanoid. As it becomes more defined, it begins to take on a face, old and distorted, almost as though the ghost had been wasting away for some time now. The more details begin to appear, the more Becka’s jaw begins to drop, and she can’t believe what she’s seeing.
“Oh my God.”
Hanson smirks from behind his computer screen, continuing to type away as he takes readings. “Congratulations, Becka. You’ve just met your first remnant.”