Geist: The Sin Eaters

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It's a story that begins with death - with your death.
Why did the Reaper reach out for you before your time? Why was it that you fell between the cracks?
Do you remember the flare of the gun or the sharpness of the knife?
Do you remember the gnawing emptiness or the choking thickness of disease?
Did you fall across the Threshold alone in the wild, or in the heart of the city?

The story begins there - with the moment of death, and with the Bargain that reversed it.
With the cold hand that brought you back to the living world, with the dry whispers that still haunt you, with the presence that has nestled in your soul.

You've returned to a world where the living cannot see the shades that surround them. Every night is the carnivale, because every night you walk with ghosts.

Death is a door. Your the one with the key.
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In Geist, you were an ordinary human, who happened to be placed in the most extraordinary set of circumstances imaginable. You have died, or had a near death experience, and been pulled back from the brink by a Geist. These are powerful spirits, and all they ask in return is to use you as a host vessel, so that they might experience a twisted form of life once again. Another side effect, beyond simply living, is access to otherworldly powers. You have become a Sin Eater.

Things to choose:
Threshold: How did you die? There are five thresholds, each being a broad description of your death. They also determine the nature of your powers. They are as follows:
The Torn: Death by Violence, Passion and Stigmata (Blood) powers
The Silent: Death by Deprivation, Stillness (Stealth and Silence) and Wind
The Prey: Death by Nature, Primeval and Earth
The Stricken: Death by Illness, Phantasm (Illusion), and Water
The Forgotten: Death by Chance, Industrial (Machines and technology) and Fire.

Here are some universal abilities all Sin Eaters share. You can see ghosts, and must actively concentrate to not see them. You can also speak to and understand ghosts, regardless of what language they spoke in life. You heal from injuries unnaturally fast. And finally, you have a sixth sense, with which you can sense the presence or recent presence of the dead.

Post up your bios if you want to join, and feel free to jump in at any time.

"But how do you ignore it??" She screwed up her face in concentration and covered both ears, the racket in her head becoming louder as the other two both spoke to her at once, and far too quickly. She could make out, however, that they'd introduced themselves and supposed she'd better make a proper introduction as well. "Cecilia Bentley," she returned. "Cissy, if you want. Most people do." She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on the sound of her own breathing. It seemed to make the voices quiet down a little, but they wouldn't go away altogether. "How did you know I was one of you...?"

"As you may have noticed, we can see ghosts. Because the Geist sharing your body is a type of ghost, when I look at you, I can see a bit of an overlapping shape, sort of like double exposure on a picture. If you look closely, you'll see the same thing with me and my friend."

Cecilia opened her eyes and squinted at them to see that he had been correct.

"I thought my eyes were just screwed up from...y'know...the bear..." She frowned and tried to concentrate on the two men and the sounds of their voices to blot out the ones in her head, but it was difficult. "So how do y'all get around? I mean you have jobs or something, or squat? Are you cops?"

"Well, until a couple weeks ago, I got around on my motorcycle, but I wrecked it, so right now, I'm walking everywhere or taking public transit. As for a job, I'm unemployed, but my uncle left me a small trust fund when he passed, so I've been getting by well enough."

"So...we live like normal humans, then?" She was quite confused. "What do the Geist get out of that? It's not as if working as a florist or a grocery bagger is exciting."

"I never said life was boring, especially not for the Geist. One thing to think about, is they probably haven't felt the air or tasted food in more years than you've been alive, so even the most mundane sensation is exotic to them. As for us, we don't exactly live like normal people."

"Most of my time is spent dealing with ghostly problems. Right now, for example, there's something really strange going on. There are usually dozens of ghosts on this street, but after a murder earlier today, haven't seen any. I'm trying to figure out what happened."

"Okay...maybe I'm not making myself clear enough." Cissy was beginning to get frustrated. "What am I supposed to do? I can't go back home and I can't get a job that requires a degree because according to OU records, I'm dead! What do I do from here?"

"simple make the records, dissappear for a day or two, then when they go back there is 2 sets of them the original, and the new set which will help you get a job now" i chime in still not liking any of this mainly the fact that there is 3 sin eaters in the one town now

"All well and good for you to say..." Cissy tried not to let the testiness she felt slip into her voice. "I'm not exactly a forgery expert. And where do I live until then? Most apartment managers run background checks these days."

"your talking to the 'forgery' expert and till you can get a place of your own im sure romeo will help you out" i say patting him on the back "ok so what's your name again, i should be able to get things fixed up before the notice" i say pointing to the cops that it seemed like every cop and a 20 km radius was here

"I'll leave it to you then. Cecilia Jane Bently, if you need my full name. Just Cissy, though." She glanced at Logan as Adam patted him on the back, still calling him 'Romeo.' If he really did get around with girls as much as Adam seemed to imply, she'd have to keep a careful eye on him and watch out for any tricks he may have.

"dont worry he will be good since i will be watching him for the most part while fixing your records" i say slapping the back of his head "i owed you that, now back to work" i say running off to get the record

I like this concept.
Hmm, no one has touched the threshold of The Stricken. I do believe I want in with that. I'll make one special for this shortly. How might I jump in once I do?
Also, I don't mind playing a spirit as the need arises. Just tell me how you would like me to act as one, Banather. What should I be doing, and how and when would I come in since there's an apparent stillness in the veil.

"I...what...?" Cecilia looked, confused, at Logan. "So...are you stuck with me until I find a place to live or what?"

These people spoke too quickly, lived too quickly. With a painful pang she found herself longing again for the slow, careful ways of small town Oklahoma. With another painful jolt, however, she was forced to remind herself that there was no going back now. Her fear of death had kept her from crossing the veil, now she would have to live with the consequences.

OOC: @ Estelle, if you ever want to roleplay as a spirit, there are a few things to keep in mind. They almost always want something in return for any information they give, and often don't tell as much as they know. Most ghosts are stuck in a routine, reliving one of their last moments, and are incapable of speaking to, or understanding, anything.

Bic: "You're welcome to stay with me for as long as you need. I have an apartment a couple blocks down, with a few empty rooms you can claim. In the mean time, we should probably get out of here. Too many cops, and this is a crime scene."

I head back to the sidewalk, and begin walking towards my home. There doesn't seem to be any way for us to find clues right now, so I resolve to head home, and think over what's happened before going to sleep.

"Um...Thanks." Cissy hitched up the bag of clothes she'd managed to steal from her room before heading up East higher onto her shoulders and followed Logan. "I'll try to get out of your hair ASAP, I promise. I just need to get a job first, then I'll never bother you again if you don't want me to," she promised quickly. He didn't seem like that type, but just in case.

The clouds were rolling in as the night's cool air grated against the lingering warmth of the daylight hours. Anaya walked with her head bowed, clutching her coat against her chest in a staggering motion. She tried as much as she could to remember where she lived before she was in the hospital, but it was a very long time ago. She couldn't even remember the side of town, where her family lived. She pondered whether or not she should even go. She was not wanted by her parents, probably seen as more of a financial burden than anything else.

She remembered very little other than finally going to sleep in the room and feeling her chest growing too heavy to let rise again. She'd given the candy-striper who wheeled her to the morgue quite the scare when she opened her eyes on the examination table. She managed to stumble into the doctor's locker room and "borrowed" someone's plain-clothes before the alarm went out.

She barely made it out of the hospital at all, and now...she wasn't sure where she was going. She stumbled as her boots hit a puddle and fell into the building at her hand. Her body ached all over. She hadn't been out of bed in a while, so she supposed she understood why. She slumped in an uncomfortable sitting position as she tried to think of what to do next.

I stand outside the door and lean against the wall, waiting for Logan and Adam to return. There was no particular reason why I remained behind. I was still getting used to my situation. It had been three weeks since my accident, but I was learning. It was hard to get used to, but I Logan to help me out, and for obvious reason, I trusted him and the rest of the Krewe. They were like me, and I was so... different. I missed my family, but I couldn't go back to them. Not after what happened.

As we neared the apartment, I saw something that made me to a double take. Standing outside waiting for us was Jade, but she wasn't what caught my attention. Just a few feet away from the apartment's door, sitting on the curb was a girl, she looked thin and weak. I then noticed a tell-tale blur around her, which at first I dismissed as a phenomena of the building fog, but as I got closer, there was no denying it. Another Sin Eater was sitting not fifteen feet from where I lived.

"Adam, you're not going to believe this, but there's another one sitting just over there."

I waved to Jade, and began walking over to the sitting girl.

I smiled as I saw the others approached and waved back to Logan. There was a stranger with him. A girl. A bubbly feeling rose as I saw her beside him. Obviously they had met already. This bubbly feeling was excitement. She had a faint haze to her appearance, and I realized that she was a sin eater. My smile turned into a grin and I stepped forward and away from the wall.

She looked up, her eyes still set in relatively dark pits in her face. She could see someone approaching her and so sheltered was her mind by her life in the hospital that her first instinct was that this person was trying to help her. Nevertheless, she considered briefly the people who were wheeled past her room with wounds inflicted by another, and then her own euthanasia. She recoiled slightly, but only pushed herself to sit upright as the person approached. His face didn't read of aggression to her, so she wasn't altogether afraid.

"Help me," she scarcely choked out--her voice still rather raspy and thin.

"Don't worry, I'm a friend. Please, come inside, and I'll try to explain everything that's going on."

I smile, and extend my hand to help her stand up.

"But, I'm dead...aren't I. I'm supposed to be dead," she said taking his hand hesitantly and stumbling to her feet clumsily as a foal.

"You were, and so was I. We've both been given second chances, I'll explain everything once we're inside."

I take her by the hand, and support her as we walk towards the door. I motion for Jade to hold open the door.

"How are you doing Jade? Sorry for taking a bit longer than I said, we got caught up in something."

Anaya looked around with eyes unfocused. There was little she remembered about the night before, so very little. She remembered that it was cold, and someone was saying something, but she knew neither who or what. She scowled. Why was she able to leave the hospital now? She still felt stiff in her joints. Why?

"Why am I alive," she asked quietly with her face still turned to the floor.

ooc: Why yes, I am talking about rigor mortis.