sanctuaryrpg | They don't make jukeboxes like they used to...

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Current Location: D-Level
Current Music: showtunes

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They don't make jukeboxes like they used to...

To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To reach the unreachable staaaaaaaaaar....

From the kitchen that she'd designated as the focal point for de and reconstruction, Sabine barked, "Mimi!" and then choked out a laugh that was half a sob. Man of La Mancha had always been one of Byron's favorite musicals.

"What? You can't build without music and you don't have a boombox!"

"No one has a boombox anymore. Don't make me regret manifesting you." She shook a finger at the showgirl ghost who was lounging on the back of the couch like it was a baby grand.

Unrepentant, Mimi went on singing,

To right the unrightable wrong
To love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star.

"I love that line, don't you?" Mimi teased not just Sabine but Scott, even though he was out of earshot.

"Zip it, or it's Tsura's turn," Sabine snapped, cringing at the reference to their chaste, but far less than pure love.

"What was that?" Scott emerged from the next-door apartment through the hole he'd put between them to make testing the walls for support beams easier. There were two more like it in the filthy foursquare they'd chosen to turn into a community area -- for the time being.

"Nothing. Mimi was just asking your favorite musical so she could sing for you. Isn't that right, Mimi?" Mind-to-ghost she sent #Don't even contradict me.# Forbidding it with power was the simplest of her abilities, but Sabine didn't abridge her free will.

Mimi just laughed and laughed, sticking to Impossible Dream until the next person joined them Then she started in on songs from Annie:

It's a hard knock life for us!
It's a hard knock life for us!

Sighing, Sabine shot Scott and the newcomer an apologetic look then shrugged helplessly. "It's not like she's wrong."

[ooc: Gathering post! Sabine and Scott are clearing out a group of four apartments to start with to make a communal kitchen, dining, sitting area on level D. Mimi is audible and vaguely visible as a holographic figure of a showgirl with an indistinct face. She won't interact unless you ping me and ask for her. Will, Molly, Marie, Jack, Sebastian, Nick, Porthos, Maggie, all got a message inviting them for potluck and construction. Anyone else can have heard from them or have seen the 'excuse our dust' sign and stop by. Feel free; all are welcome. Tag Sabine with a note in the subject line; all other tags are top levels.]

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Nick snorted out a laugh as he made his way to the communal area, back in his standard issue scrubs for the construction needed. He saw a vague shape next to Sabine and frowned slightly, his mind already thinking Shade but not about to ask it to reveal itself.

"Yeah, well, so long as no one expects me to turn my hair red and badly permed, it's all good. I hear you need some construction work in here?"

"Ciao, bello," Sabine called to Nick in greeting.

He'd been polite and even kind when first they met, and that had been enough to justify getting to know him better. Especially since Scott had also met him, and Scott needed more people in his life here--for however long it would last--than she.

"Apologies for the music. The jukebox appears to be busted--" In fact, nonexistent. "--and no one seems to have turned up with a boombox, so we're stuck with showtunes for the moment. Eventually she'll tire of them."

"Caio, bella," Nick returned. "And unfortunately, my iPhone hasn't turned up yet, so no luck there for music. Luckly, I have a soft spot for showtunes, so by all means. I might end up singing along, and for that I apologize in advance. My singing voice is rather like a bucket dragged across concrete."

"As long as your songs aren't pointed, semi-coded messages, you're already one better than Mimi."

Who shook her tail-feathered skirt and hastened over at the mention of her name. Sabine invested a little of her power in the ghost so that she could appear more fully, although it did nothing to resolve her face. Still, she was a reasonably clear figure in silvery-blue with purpleish detail, more like a hologram than a person of substance.

"Nick, Mimi. Mimi, Nick," Sabine said and then her mouth curved in a playful little smile. "I'm not exactly human and she's not human any more."

"And I was never human according to some," Nick returned with an easy smile. "Nice to meet you, Mimi. Sorry about the not being human anymore thing if you are. If you're happy the way you are, then cheers."

He looked at Sabine. "You're a medium?"

Mimi flashed a ghostly smile and scooted toward Nick with a hand out. Sabine appeared only to give her a stern look, but actually sent a firm #Don't. Best behavior, please.# It wasn't an order, but a polite request, and Mimi acknowledged it with a nod and returned to her post on the couch back.

"She says hello, but I wouldn't let her say it with her fingers and your derriere, which is why she's gone back to the couch," Sabine explained and only then let out a quiet sigh. "Among other things, yes, I have the gifts of a medium. Although I really dislike channeling them. The risk of possession for me isn't as high as it would be for others, but a particularly malevolent spirit might manage it, and then we'd all be fucked until I could fight my way back."

"I doubt she could so much damage," Nick shrugged, "so you don't really have to worry about that. She might be able to take residence in my body as I don't have a soul, but the demon side of me would most likely kick her right the hell back out again."

His mouth opened to ask if she could reach his mother but he slammed it shut before the words could come out. His mother was dead, was gone, and was at peace. He needed to leave her there, leave her at peace, and continue carrying on with his life.

"Damage?" Sabine couldn't help herself. She giggled, and then because it felt good to laugh, kept chuckling a little longer. "Sorry," she said when she'd caught her breath. "It's just... Mimi's a giant flirt. She'd pinch your butt because it's... I mean you--" She grinned again and winked at him. "Are cute."

Obviously, he'd had something he meant to ask, but she had no idea what. So she simply added, "She's harmless. But it's good to know you're probably more or less immune to possession."

"Ah, well. It's been a while since a pretty lady goosed me, so if she's son inclined, I'm not about to say no," Nick offered with a quick wink in the girl's direction.

"It's just a theory, and I could very easily be wrong about it. I'll keep myself attuned to anyone else rattling around in here with me, just to be on the safe side."

"Oh god, don't encourage her," Sabine said with a warm, friendly laugh. "I only stop them when they don't have consent." And sometimes not even then. She grinned a little brighter recalling Jack's reaction when Mimi goosed him. "I try to give my companion spirits as much free will as possible."

As Mimi ghosted closer, head tilted with the suggestion of a lifted eyebrow, Sabine shrugged and continued talking to Nick. "As for possession, so far I have no reason to believe there are any malevolent spirits on the station. They tend to present themselves fairly quickly to challenge me. Still, it's a good practice. I don't like to think what one might do in a more than human body."

Nick gave an involuntary shudder at the effort it took to block the memories of the night he died the first time, and the reason he'd shot himself. "Yeah. Possession isn't ever pretty, and possession of a body harboring power is even worse because it rarely comes with an ability to control that power."

Because he hadn't invited her into his confidence, Sabine didn't venture her awareness that he'd been dead, probably more than once. But the shudder was impossible to miss. Gently, she offered, "If it happens again and you can fight at all, text me or find me. Even if the possessing entity isn't a ghost, I should be able to help."

"I wasn't the one possessed, but I appreciate the offer." Nick managed a smile and shook the dark memories away. It was the past, his past, and one he couldn't change. Or at least, not yet.

"How long have you been doing the ghost whisperer thing?"

Ghost whisperer. Like she hadn't heard that one before. On the other hand, it confirmed their universes had at least some similarities. Besides, what hadn't she heard before? She was the one who had named them the Soul Train, after all. "Since 9/11," she answered him, and before he could ask for an elaboration she didn't want to give, she added, "All of those angry ghosts triggered my genetic ability. Afterward, I was institutionalized."

"I can't imagine that would be the easiest thing to have landed on your head, or maybe in your head is a better way of putting it. I'm going to guess that being sent off didn't exactly improve things?"

It was just a guess, but he'd watched enough TV to know that if you were looking for ghosts, former mental hospitals were the place to go. He couldn't imagine she'd found any peace there.

Sabine shrugged, not awkward but not all that interested in talking about it. "I was catatonic for most of it. Juvie was worse." So had the trial where no one believed she hadn't killed that girl. No one but Bo, but it hadn't mattered. No one believed him either.

"I had 'uncanny' knowledge of where a body was buried. They though I put it there."

"Sounds like the way most cops would think," Nick nodded. "We're a little more fortunate since we have a network of what we call squires, both on the force and in the medical examiner's office, that understand the more supernatural elements that go on around them. Helps with those kind of sticky situations. Must've been tough for you, dealing with all of that."

"Actually the cop was the one person who believed me," she said, remembrance fond but no longer painful. "But he was a pretty extraordinary guy. The squires sound useful. Interesting, too." It seemed best to explain, though that, "People know about 'us' in my world. It's just that they usually don't think of mutants having powers like mine. Which is just as well since I'd never have made it out of the U.S. alive if they did."

Mutants. Okay. Well. Why the hell not? It wasn't like the weres he knew couldn't be called mutants as well on a good day. And just because they didn't appear in the world he knew, that counted for pretty much nothing in the grand scheme, or so he was learning.

"Where did you go when you left the US?"

"Scotland, if you'd believe it. The mother of--" Oh, Kevin. She hadn't thought of him hardly since she'd been here, and the memory of moments shared provoked a soft pang in her chest. "A dear friend," she managed. "Inherited a castle and a title. She's an MD with a specialty in mutant genetics. So when the U.S. started imprisoning us, she turned her castle into a refuge."

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They don't make jukeboxes like they used to...

Sabine

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