An Out of Character Experience (Echo)

[Tabula Rasa]

x x

Being on a ranch induced but one feeling in T.R.

PONIES!

Unhealthy obsession? Probably. Where’d it come from? Who knows. T.R. was like that. Either way it was enough that the normally manipulative, sadistic and downright insane hybrid was quite docile as she watched them gallop around inside the fenced field. She was sitting on the fence herself, feet dangling like they usually were, kicking at some of the tall grass. One would almost assume she was just your typical kind of girl, sitting and watching the majesty of the ponies running about. Except for those nasty clawed gauntlets that left grooves in the fence where she was gripping it.

She was even humming a tune to herself, one from some broken past she could only half remember. A jovial little song, it seemed, though there were no words. Needless to say, it was either completely in character for T.R. or completely out of character. Being that she was sitting happily watching ponies, it was probably more to the latter than the former. A happy tune on a peaceful day sitting contently watching animals play. That was definitely out of character for T.R.

But then it wasn’t every day she got to watch the ponies, see.

One of the ponies broke off from the group and trotted over to her, thinking she had food. As it came close T.R.’s eyes went wide and she inched along the fence, away from it. The animal whinnied and came closer, then nudged into her with its nose. T.R. squealed—yes, she squealed—and fell backward off the fence, before scrambling backward on the grass away from the creature. ”Down you! Down!” she nearly screamed at it, unsure how to handle being approached by such an animal.

You see, T.R. liked to watch the ponies. She liked it a lot. The freedom as they ran, the way the muscles all worked in unison under the thin flesh, allowing it to run along at high speeds. But the last time she was close to a pony its blood was all over her hands. She was insane, yes, and this time she didn’t want pony blood on her hands. ”Go, go back to the rest of them!”

[Echo Faust]

From within a barn not too far from the ranch, buried underneath a stack of hay, is a female who didn't seem to mind that there wasn't any air able to get to where she is so far underneath so much hay! Sprawled out on the floor, looking up into the darkness, she couldn't help but be thankful that she found somewhere to remain in darkness now that the sun has risen once more. Oh, how she detested the light so! All it ever did is make her life miserable, all it ever did is make her life boring; she wishes the sun would just go into a supernova already and be done with it! Only then would the world be a better place, with no light and no life to accompany it.

Though, in the middle of this thought, it's train is derailed as the sounds of screaming snap her out of her own mind. Echo couldn't help but think this is becoming a habit now, people screaming and wandering onto her with how it's been happening time and time again. Oh, for shame though, that the sun is as high in the sky as it could be! Though, she supposes, it wouldn't hurt to see just what is going on out there! Slithering out of the hay, as if just simply phasing through it, she floats like a corpse over to the barn's doors; all the while, as the distance between her and those said doors close, her body slowly lifts itself up in a ghastly sort of fashion until she is in an upright position.

With one hand placed on the door, her feet not bothering to touch the ground, she hides from the sun as best she could; with one eye, she looks out into the distance to see another female gathered by the stable, seemingly terrified of a horse. Echo couldn't help but giggle, for if a passive creature could intimidate the other than what Echo has in store for them would be quite the heart attack indeed! Oh, but if only she found the muse to even care about doing anything to anyone else right now! Pent up depression has put a nasty toll on her, the poor thing having lost her care to ruin other people's lives; she's too caught up in her own lack of one.

Le' sigh.

[Tabula Rasa]

x x

Just go away! Go away go away go away! T.R. scrambled backward across the ground putting as much distance as she could between the friendly pony and herself. The claws on her gauntlet dug deep into the ground and a strength hidden behind her arms pulled her along as her feet kicked. Then in one smooth motion with her weight thrown backward, something of a reverse somersault, she was on her feet and backing away from the pony. Toward the barn. The barn where the pony wasn’t. That was her train of thought as she moved much quicker now with her feet on the ground.

More concerned over the pony who watched with tragic eyes as the person it thought would be its friend essentially ran from it, T.R. didn’t noticed the unexpected company as she entered into the barn. She backed up until her back nudged against one of the wooden support beams. The fright caused her to jump, spin around and hack at it with that clawed gauntlet. Once more hidden strength kicked in, as did the sharpness of those claws, and the support beam was cleaved completely in half.

In some sort of sadistic twist of fate this support beam was holding up a rather heavy load of hay in the rafters. T.R. slashed the beam in half, causing the load to lose its only support. There was a sickening crunch from other wooden bits in the bar and T.R. had just enough time to look up as the platform gave out. ”Oh son of a—“ she managed before the hay all fell down on her, knocking her on her back and covering her.

Then everything settled and nothing moved.

A clawed hand sprung from the grassy grave and groped around. Another one quickly joined it. The two hands started digging at the area between them until T.R. was able to shake free, sitting up. Hay was sticking out of anywhere it could stick out of and her hair, normally in two messy pony tails, was even messier. ”Stupid pony,” she murmured to herself in a moment of self-pity.

All well, no one was there to see it all happen, anyway.

[Echo Faust]

Or so our faithful psychotic friend would think, for Echo's eyes see all; she somehow managed to contain her laughter at the sight happening in front of her. So much chaos in so little time and without much effort too! Oh, this one is going to be a real delight indeed. Silently she floats away from the door and to the edge of the barn's walls where she hugs it, rotating counter-clockwise around Tabula until she is on the opposite side of the hay stack that they had knocked over. Once she is clear of the other's view, she slowly begins to levitate up towards the ceiling; it would seem as if she is about to go right on through it, but before that could happen she suddenly floats off to the side. Whilst moving horizontally, her front body leans forward, causing her to do a pseudo-front flip before perching herself on one of the support beams of the barn that hadn't been broken.

From there, with feet kicking in the air, she looks down at the other female through the bangs that hid her eyes and face. At this point, Echo didn't care if the other one saw her or not. It wouldn't be fun to just play hide and seek, topple a few things over and make Tabula fear that she is suffering more so than she could imagine. Though, come to think of it, that does sound like the twisted sort of humor that Echo herself has - but, alas, she just didn't have the willpower to go through all that TROUBLE. For, you see, trouble like that is only worth it on those victims that truly deserve that sort of game. Someone like this, who can't even face a tiny little horse, is no fun to break down.

[Tabula Rasa]

x x

Buried in hay, but at least away from the pony, T.R. was able to relax. She examined her handiwork, where her clawed gauntlet had severed the support beam. Above, the platform was resting kilter, almost threatening to fall down on top of her. It was still attached to some of the lesser support beams, enough that there was no real risk of that, despite the threat. ”All bark, aren’t you,” T.R. cooed up at the platform, then allowed herself to fall back and rest in the hay.

Might as well make do with what you were given, and the hay was comfortable.

That’s when she saw her company, floating near the ceiling above her. T.R. blinked, then tilted her head as she considered the presence. Those gauntlets found their way under her head, where one mightn’t think they’d be too comfortable. T.R. didn’t seem to mind as she stared up at the poe with a curious look on her face.

”What’s wrong? Lost your body?” she cooed, then giggled at her own comment. Was there a joke there? Maybe. She didn’t know. She was insane, remember. ”Won’t do you any good looking up there; bodies have a tendency to suffer to the will of gravity. Maybe it’s down here somewhere, y’think?” she mused, rolling over and looking around the floor of the barn as best as she could. Nope. No body. Not that she could see, at least. There was a huge mess of hay on the floor now, so it could be there.

[Echo Faust]

Thankfully enough, her eyes and face were hidden behind her own hair that fell around her like a curtain for the look on her face; she couldn't believe that the other wasn't terrified in the least bit of her very nature! What is wrong with people these days? Hmph, being accustomed to the famous living dead and what have you. What is that? Regardless of all of that, regardless of the bitter feeling swelling up inside of her, her lips do not part to grace the other with any words. No, instead, she slowly leans forward until her form is completely off of the platform and in mid-air; here, she begins to float down to the floor like a feather. Eventually, after swaying back and forth enough, she finds her way on top of the hay stack that has swallowed the other almost whole. She remains there, like a sprawled out corpse, looking down at the other with an empty look on her face.

Boo, she thought, it isn't fair that she can't have any fun with whomever it is that is underneath her. What's the point of being dead if you can't have any fun? No, no - that's a lie, for you see being dead is a lot more fun than being alive. You have so much less to worry about, so much less to care about; you just don't have any responsibilities or anything, you can just do as you please forever!

...Forever, oh how lonely that sounds.

[Tabula Rasa]

x x

D’aww, such a gloomy look on such a sweet face. And no regards for personal space, either, as she floated down. Of course the feather motion, the back and forth sway she floated down with, that caused T.R. to giggle. It looked like fun! But then an invasion of personal space by a ghost. Then again, T.R. didn’t really have much of a concept of personal space. She was constantly invading it on others, so why would she be bothered by a ghost invading her own personal space?

No, instead she could only focus on that gloomy stare. ”Why so serious, darling?” T.R. murmured with a playful pout. She couldn’t help but giggle afterward. ”Oh, am I on your body? Or maybe it’s here in the hay.” T.R. sat upright, straight through the poe, and looked about as if nothing had even happened. Nope. Outside of her own legs still buried under the hay there didn’t seem to be anywhere a body could be hidden away.

So T.R. lid back down, once more staring up at the poe. ”I can’t see it anywhere,” she said sadly, then shrugged. ”Sometimes you’re better off without one anyway. They only really hold you down.” And once more she giggled, this time at the blatant, mostly horrible pun she couldn’t resist saying. ”Though you have to have a name. What is it?” Poes were different, you see. Poes were among the only things in all of Hyrule that couldn’t burn, that wouldn’t burn. And they themselves had a certain affinity with flame in their own ghostly way. Because of this they held a unique position in T.R.’s mind.

[Echo Faust]

As the other spoke to her in that baby voice one would normally give to a cute little animal, Echo's face still doesn't change at all as the other seems to actually care about the whereabouts of her corporeal self. It isn't until the other decides to sit up and move right through her that Echo herself floats to the side, just far enough to be away from arm's reach of the female and out of the mess of hay that laid there on the barn floor.

How disgusting, she couldn't help but think, that this person dare mock her by actually pretending to care about what it is that happened to her physical form! Oh, if only she could cinch their narrow throat for such a display of arrogance... There isn't much she herself could do right now, especially to this female, for the sun diminishes her biggest weapon of all: her capacity to induce despair. There's a frown now, her head bowing towards the floor ever so slightly; this really is such a pathetic sight.

Though, the silence is broken, by the way her lips slowly part and take in some air - or, of course, so it would only sound like. "Echo..." she speaks in a very abrupt manner, quietly, just above a whisper. "Faust...", she finishes, unsure of why she had just gave herself some sort of humane nature for the other to play on.

How disgusting.

[Tabula Rasa]

x x

Progress! T.R. could only grin as Echo spoke her name, seemingly unwillingly. Echo Faust. Interesting name. Not what T.R. would have called her, but then there was a reason T.R. wasn’t a mother: she’d be a very poor parental figure. Well that and the fact that right now she didn’t see much use for a child, nor did she really want—anyway, that’s irrelevant, neither here nor there. Echo Faust was the name of the poe, which was progress over calling her ‘darling’ and other such pet names.

T.R. did have sort of a soft spot for poes, after all.

The woman rolled over onto her side so she could watch the poe again, the ghost having moved when she sat up. There was something resilient about the poe, like the encounter wasn’t really by choice. But since she could’ve gone invisible, T.R. could only assume she had partially wanted to be seen. Aha! Something clicked in T.R.’s mental processes and she remembered something she knew about the ghostly species as a whole.

The sun was bad.

Very bad.

They didn’t sparkle. The night was when a poe was at its fullest, which means Echo was waiting out the day here in the barn when T.R. barged in. The woman giggled wildly. The thought of the weakened poe seemed oddly cute now. ”Nice name,” she cooed, since there was a lack of conversation in the poe. ”How long have you been dead?” Sensitive, isn’t she?

[Echo Faust]

What a question! The mouth this other female has on her; all Echo could do is wonder what sort of upbringing she had to be so filthy! The way she carries herself, that grotesque tone of voice; if Echo didn't know any better then she would think the other was intoxicated or something! Regardless of all the bad things she thought about this female in front of her, her eyes didn't part from the other's own as they had asked something so cruel! At first, she didn't move or say or do anything at the other's question; it isn't until a couple of moments later that a scoff passes her lips, and her own form seems to become more transparent than it previously was before.

It would seem that Tabula's question is just a bit too out there, that her probing had gone a bit too far for Echo's closed nature! Oh, if only she could strike the other down where she laid; set this whole barn on fire and simply vanquish this disgusting creature off of the face of this planet! How dare she think she is so high and mighty, so pristine and elegant enough to actually believe she deserved Echo's company?! The audacity in this one is just too much for Echo herself to believe!

Instead of responding with the response Tabula is looking for, she waits a few moments before responding back with a question. "How long have you?" she speaks in a hollow voice, lacking the spite and angry feeling she felt swelling up on the inside.

[Tabula Rasa]

x x

Not very talkative indeed, this one was not. T.R. wasn’t sure if she liked that or not. Then again she wasn’t sure if that was just a poe being a poe or if it was just in this one’s nature to be such a recluse. Either way T.R. liked it. See, she enjoyed mind games; despite her insanity the mind was quite a fascination of hers. When people got too talkative they didn’t leave anything for her to guess at, which meant there was no way to unnerve people with accurate guesses.

But this one left her with such a brilliant question to play with. T.R. could only giggle innocently at the simple question with so many layers. ”How long have I? Well that’s an interesting question. What do you mean? How long have I left to live? I wish I knew. How long have I been dead? Oh, I’d say about fifteen years. How long have I wondered how long you’ve been dead, well that’s measured more in minutes than years,” she concluded with another giggle.

Then she shrugged and sat up, freeing her legs from the hay they were buried in. ”You’re definitely not a talker. Cat got your tongue? Where is your tongue, anyway?” she mused and laughed, brushing the hay from her outfit and hair as best as she could. The stuff was like sand: it got everywhere and when you thought you’d gotten rid of it all, you find more. No doubt later that night as she undressed for bath or bed or what have you, she’d find yet more in her clothes. You’d think it’d itch or something. ”Then again your name is Echo. Perhaps you merely echo what others say.”

[Echo Faust]

The other's humor is something Echo couldn't come to appreciate; it's like the other's words were simply just nails on a chalkboard at this point in time. All she had been doing this whole time is undermine Echo and make fun of her, and all Echo has been doing is sitting there and taking it! Echo herself couldn't understand why she was letting this happen or why she wasn't doing something to make the other's life a real living hell! If this were any other day, any other moment, this filthy rascal in front of her would have been put to shame. ...But on this day, today, she couldn't find the energy to really do anything about it.

Her head tilts to the side before hanging limp there, her eyes falling to the ground to look at the other's feet in front of her. "That's not true at all..." she mutters, her fingers twisting inward as her bangs fall over her face once more. That feeling that had been swelling inside of her, that feeling that had been festering into something pathetic inside of her, is completely overwhelming her at this point. This sense of urgency, this sense of loneliness, suddenly setting in out of no where... Echo couldn't explain it, Echo couldn't think up enough reason as to why she is feeling this way at this moment in time!

Perhaps it'd be best if she just disappeared without saying anything. Perhaps if she just left, it'd save her whatever face she still has. Perhaps if she vanquished herself from this moment, she'd feel better. She isn't some animal for others to poke fun and mock, she isn't some loser who would be trampled by others! She's a manifestation of evil incarnate, her mind her best weapon; she is better than this slut, better than anyone else who walks this very Earth! Oh, if only she didn't have this weight on her shoulders...

[Tabula Rasa]

x x

Ever so briefly a look flashed through T.R.’s eyes, as if she were seeing something that wasn’t there. And, in fact, she was, as Intuit Manipulation kicked in and she saw the answers to all the questions she was asking. She couldn’t help but grin, and even giggle, as everything was revealed to her. Just as abruptly as the hay had fallen on her, T.R. was on her feet. How? Well T.R. did hold a hidden agility there somewhere, and she had this way of being abrupt and surprising when she wanted to. Either way, she was on her feet and grinning.

Something most people learned not to be around.

”My, my, my,” she mused solemnly. ”Such a tragic figure. Inexplicable madness, a wayward fever of sorts, and then just silent acceptance of yourself and your fate. So you didn’t lose your body, you just gave it up. Poor soul.” She turned around with a shrug to face her ghostly companion. ”But then perhaps that’s what you wanted. So much unwanted responsibility, a role you didn’t want to fill. This was your escape, was it? But now you’re stuck in this world for an eternity you don’t want to see.”

Her musing ceased and there was a moment in between her words and the giggles that followed. ”And now you’re stuck haunting a barn until the daylight passes. Would you even be able to escape if you wanted to?” To answer her own question T.R. summoned forth Ouroboros, her bladed hoop, and hurled it up at the ceiling. It knocked a huge chunk out of the roof, letting sunbeams venture through the dust and into the shade that was the barn. The hoop continued on outside of the barn before disappearing into wherever it had come from.

”Perhaps with the right aim I could cage a ghost,” T.R. pondered to herself with an innocent, child-like curiosity in her voice. ”But then that would be mean.”