HumanXGhost (TheMadIceCreamMan/JackSkellington)

[Bye.]

A chuckle of question began to rise up in Irene's chest. What does he mean by 'I scare people too'...? Irene wondered. She smiled and crossed her arms, leaning her head against the doorframe. "So, you scare people too? How do you do it?" She asked, a smirk planted upon her lips. Timothy seems so harmless to her, but then again, Irene isn't the toughest looking herself. She isn't scary at all, really, she's actually quite the opposite.

She found her face turn to a light shade of pink as he told her he wants to hear her voice sometime. She's never sang in front of anyone before. "I'm not that great, really. I just hum my way along to pass the time...not really anything special." She said a bit nervously. Irene gets shy when it comes to performing at all in front of anybody. "...but, I guess I wouldn't mind..." She concluded.

To get her mind off of singing in front of Timothy, she thought about what he said. He likes to plant. "Hmm...plants are a nice accent to living space." She stated happily. "I suppose that the days go by quickly for you since you're always busy. I can't imagine how tired you are at the end of the day." Her mind wandered, she honestly couldn't imagine the feeling of being tired.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Morning (7:31 am)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy took in the fact that he was conveying himself an overworked individual. He bit his tongue a bit at the idea of conveying that. "Well I'm busy due to my choices. That is to say I like being busy as it shows I'm being efficient." he states firmly, "As such I suppose being tired is symbolic of that fact." He shifts his body over and leans on the bathroom door frame. "Now I tend to be quite good at scaring people by having them look at my face. Makes people run I tell." he said as if he were serious before breaking into a grin, "In all seriousness though when I was young I tended to derive joy out of scaring my father and siblings, though my mother always seemed to see through my schemes...for a time. Still I do think I have scared a few people with my face." he says as he feel nostalgic about the past.


His thoughts trotted back to her mention of being willing to sing, the subject seemed to make her nervous. "Also if it means anything I can't sing myself." he said upfront. Timothy didn't want her to be nervous. Without turning his head he glances his eyes over at her. The dress itself was of a clear creme white, yet through a brief inspection he could see it gathered a lot of dust on the backside. Was she sitting on the ground all night? he thought to himself. Upon a few moments of more thinking he settled with that fact that there were chairs she could sit on. Upon catching the scent of morning dew near her he had an idea of where she was. A quick shade of pink flashed on his face as he realized he was staring. He set his gaze to the ceiling, "Were you out in the balcony all night?" he asked after taking some time to put the observations together.

 

[Bye.]

"Well, being busy does mean that you get a lot done." Irene smiled. For a moment Irene was confused at what Timothy said then began to laugh. "Oh my goodness, that is terrible to say about yourself." She giggled. If he hadn't been joking around it wouldn't have been funny, but by the grin on his face she seemed to catch on. "Well, you definitely seem like you were the mischievous child out of the family." Her eyebrows furrowed when he mentioned people running by looking at his face again. It was hard to tell whether he was being serious this time. She began to wonder if Timothy is self conscious. If he is, it is absolutely absurd because he has nothing to worry about. He seems to be a wonderful person all the way around.

Irene smiled at him. "Practice makes improvement." She said. There was silence that filled the walls of the room. Her gaze from the floor shifted to look up at him. She couldn't help but giggle as she saw him looking at her. Her hand was then held over her mouth to block the wide smile she was showing.

A new conversation was quickly brought up as he awkwardly looked away from her and placed his eyes on the ceiling. Irene was still chuckling slightly underneath her breath. "Oh...yes I was...." She trailed off, remembering her thoughts from just a couple hours before Timothy had gotten up.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Morning (7:35 am)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy fumbled around with his thoughts. Usually he could handle a casual conversation, but having her as a permanent forced him to be more crafty. He wasn't sure where he was going with his observations. In the silence of the room her muffled chuckles bounced around the room make his face turn redder. Is she laughing about my face joke? he thought to himself. "Never being able to sleep I'd imagine you have a lot of time to think." he says. The statement itself was only a half-baked assumption. As such he could only wonder what occupied her thoughts. Briefly he thought maybe he himself was on her mind as she did change her daily pace. A quick shake of the head and the thought was shelved as it made him feel egoistic, something he wasn't fond of.


Awkwardly he opened up the bathroom. She seemed quite charmed and curious, talking with her revealed a deeper pool to her being. Timothy wasn't sure how to delve into this pool. "I-I'm going to get prepped up so I can head out soon." he states nervously as he enters the bathroom. With an audible sigh he leaned up against the sink. "Why do I keep being awkward when I talk with others..." he mumbled to himself. Looking up into the mirror he saw a distraught man looking back at him.

 

[Bye.]

The sun had risen even more since their conversation had started. Now that there was a silence in the room Irene stared outside. Her eyes were faced towards the balcony, peering out, but her body stayed tucked inside the doorframe. She found it a comfortable spot to just stand and look around. As she heard Timothy's voice she placed her answer together, getting ready to make her reply. Her head nodded as what he assumed is entirely true. She does have a lot of time to think. By now she's probably thought the universe inside out for how long she's been dead and alone. All she ever did was think. Now that Timothy has moved in she wants to learn more about him. She wonders if they share any of the same interests.

"Yes, I do get to spend a lot of my time thinking. If there were other things to do I would do them, I get myself lost in my thoughts sometimes..." She trailed off, leaning her head against the doorframe again as she let out a quiet sigh. Her eyes again adverted towards the outside world. The blue sky hovered above everything. Trees swayed with the light breeze. Cars continued to honk, but the sweet noise of birds chirping their morning songs seemed to over lap the loud angry sounds. Irene had found herself spaced out from the rest of everything else and jumped a bit when she heard Timothy's voice. "Oh, okay. I'll let you get ready so you can get on the town." She smiled then watched as he made his way into the bathroom. She heard him mumble something, but figured he was only talking to himself since he is usually clear when he speaks to her.

Her mind wandered on what she was going to do while he goes out. She figured that she'd probably just do the same thing she's been doing. Nothing wrong with that, its not like she has a choice anyway. She slid away from the doorframe and went into Timothy's room, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her head was cupped in her hands as she stared at the floor. In her mind was the reality that someone is actually living here now. Every time she thought about it, excitement rushed through her. She knows now that she no longer has to spend her days alone.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Morning (7:45 am)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy took a moment to steel his nerves again. A deep inhale followed by a shallow breath outward that fogged up the mirror. Turning around he looked around he studies the humble bathroom.The tiles embedded in the walls were of a porcelain white, but fainted hints of brown and yellow indicated their age. The air of the room gave him chills and a metallic scent sat in the air, he figured it to be from when the people fixed the pipes. He suddenly felt happy to have forced the manager's hands or he would be forced to where the grime of yesterday. Rubbing his hands over the smoothed corners of the sink he found the bathroom to be quite spacious and luxurious. Exploring the rest of the apartment he decided would be fun.


Looking down onto the floor he found the blue dress sitting as a heap on the dusty tiles. It took him a few moments to register what it was before the image of her in it last night clicked in his mind. Certainly most his age would find arousal in this situation, but as he bent down to grab the gown curiosity enveloped his desire to grasp the cloth. Stroking his hands over the folds of the cloth he found that it carried an odd chill that it certainly was not meant to have. Beyond that he looked closely at it to find it seemed like a normal dress in its stitching. How odd...can she make anything she holds invisible he thought to himself.


With the tender hands of a house maker he hung the dress on a nearby wall hanger, knowing well that folding it would only cause creases. With that he took only the same care with his own dirty clothes as he striped down. Hesitantly he moved over to the bathtub to inspect it. His main concern being whether mold had taken hold in the hold tub. Not so shockingly to him this wasn't the case, the tub hadn't been shown use in maybe over fifty years. After a short time under the hot water and a layer of soapy foam he got out of the tub. He shook his head remembering that he didn't need to rush anymore since his siblings were not around. He thought of going back in to enjoy the hot water that seemed to loosen up his muscles and tired spirits. His desire to save time denied him this littlest of refuges.


Soon enough he exited the bathroom with a new gusto of energy as steam diffused from the bathroom. His attire was strict and smoothed, as was his hair. The only physical disturbance he felt being the annoying grunt of his stomach. Walking into his room he wore a grin on his face as he looked over to her. Having time to think in the tub he figured he might just tease her a bit. He gently placed her blue dress beside her on the bed. "You know wearing the same undergarments for a hundred years isn't a good thing?" he states a grin still on his face. He figured he might try a new way of talking with her that didn't leave him blushing.

 

[Bye.]

Irene heard the water turn on a few moments after Timothy had entered the bathroom. She felt the velvet covers underneath her hands as she ran them across the surface. After a few minutes of sitting on his bed, she decided to get up. On one of his walls a large mirror hung by small nails sticking out of the wall slightly. The mirror had a wooden frame and intricate details carved into it, making it pleasing to the eye. This is one thing that the lady had left behind. The lady that had lived here before Timothy.

As Irene stood, she looked at herself in the mirror. What she saw was an old ghost trying to hold on. Lately Irene has been slipping, unable to keep her grip on things. For a ghost, Irene sure does have some life left in her, but it has faded a bit over the years. Her body turned around and she noticed the backside of her dress had some dust on it. She brushed it off, making sure nothing was left. The dress definitely looks expensive, so from now on she's trying her best to keep it clean.

After a couple more moments of looking at her lifless figure in the glass, she sat back down on the edge of the bed where she had been before. A door opened and she saw Timothy walk out. He seemed to be looking quite sharp as his hair was neatly done and his clothes were placed smoothly. He had a new look upon him, he seemed to be more awake this time. Irene looked away quickly once she noticed she had been gazing at him for a bit of time. Something familiar was held in his hands and as he came into the room, she recognized it. Her old dress.

Her face turned pink but she began to laugh at his comment. Irene has a sense of humor, unlike the others who would leave embarrassed. She continued to laugh, shaking her head. A smirk crossed her lips. "Well, look who's being a wise guy." She smiled, raising a brow. The blue dress had been placed next to her, and she rubbed the silk fabric between her fingers. "Feel better?" She asked, crossing her legs and gathering her blue dress onto her lap.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Morning (7:51 am)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy pouted a bit like a child who failed at his prank. "Yes, I feel much more awake now compared to yesterday." he said as he stroked his shirt of any latent dust particles. Timothy found himself chuckling a bit as she laughed, she was a good sport. Curiosity overlapped into what he talked about next. "Irene is there a story about that blue dress of yours if you don't mind my asking." he questioned softly. The dress was humble in nature unlike a lot of attire sold today. The shop he visited yesterday reflected this much to him anyways.


Awaiting her answer he moved over to his bag again. Slowly he started to set out his clothes in an organized manner. Soon enough he got a hold of his tooth brush that seemed to have lost its way to the bottom of his bag. Looking at the bottom of the said bag he found he didn't bring many things that were of personal value to him. Packets of seeds, some plugs, and other debris sat in the bottom, but something associated among the mess brought back a sense of nostalgia. Lifting out of the bag he held in his hands a humble picture frame. It was made of simple wood frame and the glass case meant to hold in the picture was missing, shattered long ago. With heavy eyes he stroked the side of the frame looking at the picture, except the picture was turned around so that only its backside could only be seen. The word mother scribbled on the back as to picture laid hidden. Remembering a tentative room mate was in the room he put the picture over to the side. He then busied himself by organizing the scattered packets of seeds that he swore he placed in a plastic bag.

 

[Bye.]

Irene noticed Timothy's behavior after she began laughing. It seemed to her as though he wanted it to be some sort of tease. She smiled at the thought of it, but hasn't experience teasing in so long she forgot what it even was. Now she remembers. Her brain dug deep into her memories, trying to remember the story of the blue dress. A spark lit up, soon igniting into a full flame. Her eyes gazed down at the dress, running her hand over the smooth material. The memory was faint, but the more she thought, the more that came back into her mind.

"Ah ha!" She exclaimed a bit too loudly, holding up a finger. She smiled innocently at Timothy for her random outburst of excitement. "Anyway, I remember....my father. He wanted me to marry this man. I don't remember the man's name, but he was a rich fool. I, on the other hand, was in absolute disagreement of my father's decision. Back then, women didn't have many rights, so I had to follow up on my father's demands." She sighed, shaking her head. "Long story short...the Rich guy bought me this dress in hopes to win me over. It didn't work, I'm not fond of diamonds being a girls best friend as they always say." She let out a weak chuckle. "But yeah...that's how I got this dress. That man and I never got married, thank goodness." She smiled, looking over at Timothy dig through his bag.

Something interesting approached her eyes as she saw him holding what seemed to be a picture frame. The look in his eyes, such a confusing expression. Her eyebrows furrowed as she wondered what his thoughts were. What does that picture mean to him? She wondered. A small frame such as that can hold so many good memories, yet it can also hold pain and the longing to see someone that you've missed. Her mind wondered as to who or what he was looking at.

Irene struggled to keep her curiosity bundled inside of her. "T-Tim? Are you okay?" She asked, watching him put the picture aside and occupy himself with something else.

@TheMadIceCreamMan
​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Date: February 3rd


Time: Morning (7:55 am)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Her sudden question shook him as he put down the picture. It was clear enough she worried, yet thoughts laced with fear and suspicion flooded into the young man's mind. In his old house the picture stood seldom on a wood top desk in his room. His siblings and father rarely took to question it, all for good reason. Her question was light yet like a domino effect its effect was consuming. All the while Timothy was organizing the seed packets with a face bare of emotion as he thought. Am I okay? What would be wrong? It is in the past. Why does she care anyways...it isn't her business he thought to himself, Then why don't I flip the picture over? he thought retorting all is previous thoughts. His mind was circling itself as he had only excuses.


Timothy turned his head over to Irene, "Yes, I'm okay." he stated with a plastic smile on his face. Placing the seed packets down they were solicitously organized by whether they were evergreen, grew fruits, grew vegetables, was a succulent, and even how the leaves grew among other things. His thoughts may have been patronizing him, but his actions seemed calm and precise. Always one to appear in control, though in truth that is always up to question with him. "Thank you for asking though." he stated.


"I'm sorry you got forced into a marriage. It is true that women were used as tools back then, but I think you'll find that reality is changing. Well rich people ares still quite pretentious by the end of the day." he said as he turned back into his bag, "What makes you fond of the dress I got you then?" he asked half-curious, half-trying to alter the subject from the picture. Maybe she wanted a new dress as a way of separating herself from a bad past he thought.

 

[Bye.]

Irene was having a hard time reading his emotions. She couldn't tell whether he was lying or whether he was actually fine. Her eyes followed his gaze to the little seed packets. Looking back up at his face she doubted her thoughts. Her eyes narrowed a bit, still furrowing her brows. It was killing her inside not knowing whether he was telling the truth. Usually it's easy for her to read people, but Timothy is different. He has uniqueness. He's not like everyone else. He's not like every other person in their twenties who goes out and does absurd actions. He's an adult.

Irene sighed and then nodded her head a couple times. "Okay, well if you say that you're fine, I'm going to believe you. I have trust in you that you're telling me the truth." She stated then stood up from the bed and leaned against the wall. Her mind still wandered about the picture he had. I don't want to get into his business, so I won't. But no matter how much I try to forget about it there is still going to be a spark of curiosity. She concluded.

"Don't be sorry. It's in the past, and plus, the marriage never happened. It ended up getting canceled." She laughed. She motioned herself to the bed again, sitting in the same spot where she was before. Once he asked her about the new dress, she looked towards the floor. "Oh..." She started. "Well...it's not that this blue dress isn't pretty or..that it doesn't fit me...the man who I just told you about, the one that bought me the dress, he uh..." She cleared her throat and clenched her fists, trying not to remember but for some reason this memory stuck to her like glue. "Whenever I see it I think of him. He was a very bad man. He...he.." She sighed and shook her head. I might as well tell him. I'm dead anyway, it doesn't matter anymore. Irene thought. "He abused me. Badly." She said quickly and with no emotion, just trying to get it over with. "Again, don't say sorry. It's in the past." She said.

"I wanted a new one so that I didn't have to see myself bathed in that bad memory." She smiled faintly, looking down at herself in the new dress. "And thank you again, it is lovely." She smiled, looking over at Timothy. Her mind was corrupted again. That man is in the past now...but the scars he has given me still remain. Irene thought, picturing one large scar held at her side.

​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Morning (8:10 am)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

His eyes never lifted up from his work as he busily shuffled the seed packets. His hands were swift, but without purpose as the work was now pretentious. The seeds were already thoroughly organized. Each word she spoke following his own felt like a drop of acid on his skin. As she continued with her own emotions seemingly draining away with each word the venom slowly streamed onto him. The guilt of it all could only build as it piled up and weighed him down. His attempt to lightly blow over the subject had thoroughly backfired as he made her recall a horrid memory. His thoughts on the meaning of the dress was right, but he wished he was wrong.


In a fit of raw emotion he slammed his fist down onto the bed as she finished. The result of his punch made the seed packets scatter from their neat and organized stacks, but he couldn't care less. Timothy turned his head over to the girl in white. An odd calmness had washed over his face, "Of course I'm not sorry. I wasn't the cause." he stated softly, yet firmly. His posture was tall and straight as he looked down at her ensnaring his eyesight with hers. It certainly wasn't pity he felt for her rather he felt burdened, while being angry with himself. In a gentle and swift motion he grabbed the blue dress sitting in a sad pile on the bed. Looking at the dress its cursed cold drilled into his hands. A wrong doing upon another he couldn't accept, his grip on the material hardened as he felt the urge to see it in pieces...just like that picture. It was upon this realization that his grasp seemed to soften, this item held her past in it. Is she trying to run from her past he thought solemnly.


"You know. It is never good to run from your past. After all it is what makes us who we are in the end." he said softly, as he looked over to a particular glass jar filled with green and hope on the bed. Not waiting for a response he got it in hand and opened the lid. As he did the deed he looked up at her with a stone gaze. The jar itself was large enough to hold such a light material dress inside, but could it hold away the deeper meaning of it all. Soon enough the dress was locked away in its new glass prison. "Tell me do you know what this jar means now?" he asked firmly.

 

[Bye.]

As Irene's head was held down, her eyes closed and her shoulders slumped, her reaction to his fist being thrown against the bed was a jump of surprise. Maybe even a jump from shock. She didn't know that he'd react so seriously, so angrily. Her wide eyes continued to meet his as he stood tall, towering over her as she continued to sit on the bed. Her posture was limp as she ran her hand through her hair. She was short of words to say, unable to come up with something calming or collective. Her eyes traveled back down to the floor and she sighed, furrowing her eyebrows. For some reason she felt angry at herself for telling him that. Her intention was never to make him angry, in fact, she actually had no intentions at all to begin with.

When Timothy said that he doesn't feel sorry because he wasn't the cause, Irene nodded. "Good. I don't want you to feel pity. Especially for me." She stated, clenching her fists, her hair falling in front of her face slightly. The blue dress that Irene had once wore was snatched by Timothy as he went for the glass jar. The dress was then stuffed into the jar, along with the money inside. She had not the slightest clue as to what he was doing. Why is he so angry? Irene wondered. Is it even anger?




The way he had grabbed the dress, with such anger at first, and then a flush of calm had seemed to wash over him. Irene stared blankly at the jar as he held it in front of her. Her eyes flickered up at him then back down at the jar. A long silence filled the room after he had asked the question. She knows the answer. It's simple. Yet the meaning is complex. She looked back at Timothy, holding his gaze.

"It's what remains of my past. It can either be my future now, or, I can keep it as the past, and forget about it. It means that I can let go. That I don't have to see myself as a helpless child looking for their way home anymore." As she said this, she stared at the jar. Once she thought she had said enough she looked up at Timothy again. As if she was asking 'was that the answer you were looking for?' What other answer could it be? What Irene just said is the truth, but is it the answer Tim will be satisfied with? "What are you thinking about?" She asked, remembering the picture frame he had held up only a few moments ago.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Morning (8:25 am)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Drumming his fingers against the lid of the jar he listened tentatively to her answer. Once the final words left her lips they both shared eye contact again. Each of their facial expressions seemed to convey calmness, but through this facade their thoughts were full of tension and questioning. For Timothy his thoughts were still in a fit, though a certain foundation seemed to form from her choice of words. Yes this is your past. This is what made you... he thought to himself. With a quick intake of air he steeled himself. "I'm thinking about things. Perhaps to many things.." he spoke softy, though he felt less conviction in his words as he spoke his mind. "This is certainly your past. The sooner you accept that the sooner you can move on. To simple hold onto emotions that were formed so long ago is madness, it is stagnation. What I hold is but a memento." he stated as he looked not at her, but through her. Looking on into a distant memory.


It was at that point that he grasped onto his hair, tightly squeezing it. It was at that point that he realized the words he spoke while directed at her were also aimed at himself. It was at that point that he couldn't keep a calm facade as memories floated into his mind. Certainly the young man had broken himself up with these thoughts before, but never in front of another. Her curiosity the catalyst of it all. Still clenching onto his hair he placed the jar onto her lap, "N-Never forget what creates you." he mumbled out, sadness melded into his words. The defined man who exited the bathroom in full spirits just minutes ago now felt like a child who was lost. Breaking out of his thoughts his eyes settled onto Irene again. That's right. She is here... he thought. With another deep breath he steeled himself as he remembered a person was in the room. A small smile took form on his lips, "Do you understand?" he asks addressing her and not himself. His words now calm and clear cut this time. That's right she went through worst.. he thought to himself. The facade back on he suppressed his well of confusion and sadness that only threatened to flood moments ago.


Silence remained between the two before Timothy got off the bed. "Sorry about my rambling." he stated as he bent down grabbing the scattered seed packets that were strewn across the cold tiles.

 

[Bye.]

Irene tilted her head a bit and smiled. Is there such a thing as thinking too much? She wondered, listening to his carefully placed words. Everything he says seems to be well thought out. The words he uses have no simple meanings, they are intricate details formed into a complex sentence. Something about it is confusing, yet it is so easy to understand. Who is going to use dull words to describe such an important topic? Certainly anyone could, but not Timothy. Something about him is different from everyone else, and it's not a bad thing at all. It's quite the opposite.

But how am I supposed to forget my past if that's what I am? I am my past. I don't have a future. I'm stuck in the past. There is no living in the moment. Simply not because I'm not living or breathing, but because I have nothing ahead of me. This will remain the same forever. Of course she'd never reveal these feelings to Timothy, not after what they've talked about. She's supposed to be hopeful, but years locked away in a dungeon placed inside of a crumbling castle has made her lose faith. She no longer can believe that there's a way out. The thought can ponder in her mind as much as it wants to, but the fact might just be impossible.

She watched closely as he switched moods. What kind of sadness is lingering inside of him? What is he hiding? What was his past? Irene asked herself, furrowing her eyebrows as she watched him try to collect himself. She nodded her head. "Yes. I understand." Her voice spoke quietly but sincere with every word. A sigh of relief escaped her as she watched him stand from the bed.

Rambling? Irene frowned and shook her head. "No, not rambling. It's never rambling. Remember, I've been here for years and even the most boring of conversations would keep me company. Your conversations aren't boring though, they interest me." She stated, sliding down from the bed and onto the floor. She inched her way over to the seed packets and picked them up, placing them into her hands. "If you ever feel comfortable enough...I'd like to know about your past sometime...if that's okay?"​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Morning ( 8:33 am)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

He shifted on hands and knees with no general direction as he picked up the seed packets. Timothy's mouth twisted up for but a moment as he knew what she meant by his past. Tell her... what would that accomplish he thought sadly to himself. "I suppose in due time I'll be able to inform you of my past. Depends really."he states not sure of his own words and as such making no promises. His pointless shuffling on the cold tiles came to a stop as Irene offered him some seed packets. Looking her over as he grabbed the seed packets it seemed she was more then willing to give an open ear. Even now she was trying to help him and get understand him. Timothy wasn't sure how to take this. What did she think about what I said..he thought to himself trying avoid her encapsulating gaze. "Thank you." he stated.


Getting up rather swiftly he moved back to his bag. Just as quick he put the seed packets into the bag, no longer caring for their organization. The words he exchanged with her still weighed heavily on the young man's mind. Preaching is what he has been doing, but no real action had been taken. Was false hope all he was good at providing since that is all he could give himself. As if that thought were to heavy to carry Timothy crashed down onto the soft covers of the bed. The covers were soft and promised to rid him of his troubles, still his mind couldn't trust even the comfort of velveteen blankets. In an odd mix he felt tired yet oddly aware. For only one fair night he had come into contact with this women, yet her ever drilling curiosity had brought him down. Still his mind did not linger on this, but at the fact that she had shown kindness and truth to him so far. He knew they would keep each other company for a while and as such the thought of having to keep a secret unnerved him.


In all honesty the young man felt like a lair as she knew he had something to hide while she had bared all to him. Thinking back to the photo only made him grit his teeth. Feeling caught between a rock and a hard place he could only lay on the velveteen covers hoping their little promises were true, else he be crushed. Disgruntled he sat down on the bed and looked over to Irene with a lazy stare. Thinking over the photo only made his throat tighten up, as such he simple grabbed the wooden frame and offered for Irene's curious inspection, though it took him a while to outstretch his arm. Timothy not being a dumb individual knew it would be best to deal with this now rather then in the future when his emotions may be boiling. He didn't care to cause he any trouble. The subject of the frame had never come outside of his household so it took him some to adjust to the idea of being forced to open up. Like a clam forced to reveal its pearl.

 

[Bye.]

Irene didn't know how to react to the situation. Why did I ask if I could know his past? Ugh...how nosy of me. She thought. She has a hard time keeping her thoughts caged up inside of her head. Despite all the others, this problem may be one of the worst. Once he took the rest of the seed packets from her hand she stood up. "Okay, sounds...good." She said, a bit unsure of herself. Irene was annoyed with herself at the moment, Timothy's life is none of hr business.

By the way he was acting he either seemed tired or really, really bothered by something. Maybe even both. She watched as he laid in the bed seeming to be in really deep thought. When he sat up and grabbed the picture he was holding it out to her. She stared at it as he held it in his hand, she didn't see the picture itself, only the edge of the frame. Lifting her arm up she pushed it back towards him. "It's okay...I don't need to see it. It's none of my business. I should've never asked..." She said. "Excuse me please." She said then walked out of the room. Her insecurities were kicking in. Even ghosts have anxiety. She walked out of the room and went to the balcony, this is where she goes when she thinks.

If she had taken the picture, she would've felt wrong about it. She has no right to be snoopy. She elt as if she was invading privacy or cracking him open too early. She shouldn't be this pushy. Why are you so pushy? She asked herself.
​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Morning (8:45 am)


Location: City Streets

Timothy's mouth hanged open as she started to walk away, but no words came forth. Wait you don't have to go... is what he wanted to say but it remained but a thought. His arm still out stretched he pulled it back rather swiftly, like one would when touching something hot. Resting his forehead on his free hand he felt he had the worth of dirt. Oils and water never mix, nor would his feelings of relief and anger that swirled messily in his head. Clutching the picture to his chest he felt happy at not having to show it, but this happiness could only spark anger in the soul. I wasn't trying to force you... he thought. Certainly he knew this to be a lie as he desired simple to get the issue over with. Now with her sudden reaction he wasn't sure what she was thinking or what he was doing.


Timothy rose from the bed and headed over to the balcony, but stopped as he was about to push the door open. He intended to say sorry, but now he questioned why there was a need to. Wasn't she curious.. he thought to himself, confused. Without clarity in his mind he couldn't bear to speak another word to her. In a rather disgruntled fashion he returned to his bag to retrieve his wallet. The day was young and Timothy knew he still had things to do, among those things was now to think. His wallet in his pocket and pride swallowed back he quietly left the room without informing her. Guilt at feeling realized at leaving her behind built up in him as the elevator went down to the lobby. The sudden 'ding' as the elevator doors opened interrupted his thoughts.


"Ah, Mr.Smiton. Did you enjoy to renovation we did in your room?" stated the old manager upon Timothy's arrival in the lobby.


Does he probe all his guests this way he thought to himself. "Yes, I think being able to see all the finer details of the room is quite grand." Timothy states with a plastic smile. Not in the mood to talk with the ever suspicious manager he started to head over to the exit.


The manager must not have felt done on the issue as he kept up with the young man's pace. "That is excellent to hear. Also, I do hope you are not keeping guests in there anymore." he stated coldly.


"My room is as barren as your pockets are of a friendly tip sir." he said calmly at the old man, a smile still on his face. With that comment he left the building, the old man not seeming particularly happy.


Hailing a from the night before made it much easier to accomplish this morning. The yellow car pulled around the curve. As Timothy opened the cab door he looked up the third floor's balconies. The glare of the sunlight could only make him wonder if Irene was looking down at him. With that he was off into the city.

(If you need to feel free to take control of the staff and guests again.)

​

 

[Bye.]

Irene still stood leaning on the ledge of the balcony. She had no clue that Timothy had gone already and was about to open the doors to apologize. Is there even any need to apologize? Well, she was going to say sorry for getting too nosey. She felt as if maybe she had pressured him. The sun wasn't high in the sky yet, but it was definitely working its way up there as the rooftops glistened. She took in one more moment of the view and turned back inside, looking around. There was a feeling of emptiness as she entered, but she figured he was still in his room laying on his bed. She poked her head into his room only to see a bag of his stuff, a jar full of money and a dress, and both of those things sitting on a bed.

Is he in the bathroom? She wondered, but the bathroom door was open and the light was off. For extra precaution, she looked behind the shower curtain. The place is empty, the only soul present is a wandering ghost. She peered down at the floor and sat on the edge of his bed, kicking her feet gently agaisnt the bed frame. After a couple seconds of spacing out she went back to the balcony and looked down, seeing a taxi drive away. A sigh escaped her lips. I'm sorry if I confused you in any way...Irene thought to herself.

She could understand if he was confused. After all, she was curious but at the same time rejected looking at the picture. She did that because she knows its not hers to bother, and its Timothy's personal belonging. While she was caught in her thoughts, there was a knocking at the door. Her eyebrows raised. Timothy...? She wondered, walking over to the door slowly. She figured that if it was Timothy he'd walk right in since he forgot to lock the door on his way out. Standing tall, she reached the peep hole and looked, seeing the old man from downstairs.

Doesn't he know that Timothy is the only one that lives here? And then she remembered what Timothy had told her yesterday. They had seen her and assumed he had a guest staying. She turned invisible. The door handle jiggled and turned, opening. This made her angry. Yes, this old man shares ownership of the building, but it gives him no right to go into someone's home. She wanted to say something, but she was smarter than that.

Luckily the old man didn't do anything other than look through all of the rooms, making sure no one was here. The only place he didnt check was the balcony, which its doors are closed. Once he left Irene let out a sigh of relief. To make sure no one else got in she locked the door. Little did she know that the old man was outside the door still, waiting to hear something.

As soon as he heard the door lock he got out his spare key to this room and opened the door, thank god Irene was still invisible. He looked around, expecting to see someone now that the door locked. The door couldn't have just locked on its own. The dumbfounded look on his face when he found no one there even after checking the balcony made Irene want to laugh. Now it was her turn to make someone paranoid. The old man had left the front door open. Irene shut it loudly, making the windows shake. The old man jumped nearly out of his skin. After that, she opened windows and continued to shut them violently. He ran out, dropping his spare key. He ran all the way to the elevator, pressing the button multiple times and zooming inside of it as it began to go down.

Once she made sure he was gone Irene howled with laughter, shutting the door and locking it. She turned visible and held onto the key. The key was rusty and seemed old, she put it on the kitchen counter. Oh boy, I wonder if I should tell Timothy when he comes back. Irene thought, still chuckling a little remembering the old man's face after she had scared him.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (1:01 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor

Timothy had yet to gain a map of the general region of the city he now lived in. As such he couldn't help but to be suspicious of the cab driver. Asking to be brought to the nearest food market was now a forty minute excursion into the city. Either he was going to have to buy in bulk or he was being played. As such he made sure to look out the window for a potential place to stop. Even with the clear scent of agitating smoke in the car Timothy had found himself much calmer. With his thoughts now rationalized he felt that he had caused the trouble back in the apartment. Not having someone drill him with questions about the picture before he was shocked over his own agitation when the subject was breached. It was in the midst of these thoughts a sign with the words 'The Grub Stop' flashed before his eyes. "You can stop here." Timothy stated firmly.


Giving the cab driver his money was a disheartening act. His suspicions still lingered on whether he was taken advantage of. Still giving the man his trust he thought past this as he looked on at the structure of 'The Grub Stop'. Living in the country side most food markets were humble lone buildings, yet before him 'The Grub Stop' was sharing the same building with many other businesses. The building seemed to extend quite far down the block before an alley way separated it from the next. A curious sight to the young man. Entering the shop his presence was altered by the chime of a bell. It quickly came to light for Timothy that this was far from being a food market. There were only five isles, each not very long. Watching over the store was some youth, who seem as underwhelmed as Timothy with the sight. Shopping was a dull task as he had to look through named brand chips, cookies, and other junk food. Timothy was use to preparing his own meals so it all seemed rather unappealing, though his stomach had other words on the subject. In the end he settled for some cans of vegetables, powdered potato, and some proper cooking oils. Getting a cold jug of milk was off the table as the trip back would take too long. He chuckled as he grabbed styrofoam plates and a metal cooking pan. It appeared his younger sister was right in that he should have took some plates from home before leaving. Exiting the store he was weighed down by the bulk of cans and a skillet, only the blazing sun was there to greet him. Being able to buy his own food gave him a sense of independence that allowed him to shrug of the heat of the sun and soreness in his back as he moved down the block to get on the right side of the street.


Now in a cab he wondered how to make up for his little out burst. Timothy surely felt he had caused her trouble in making her remember a bad time of her life. Under normal circumstances he said sorry to his sisters by preparing them a grand meal. For him the words were never quite enough to signify true forgiveness. The off putting thought of her being a ghost certainly made a preparing a meal a wasteful one. Soon enough the cab driver was nearing the a familiar part of the city. At reaching a certain point he asked to get off. Handing the cab driver his cash Timothy turned around to see a familiar sight. The clothing store seemed off in the daylight. In the cloak of night the lights hanging around the display window was what caught his eyes. The slight debt he put himself in buying Irene a dress was one he planned to deal with.


The cling clang of a bell went off as he entered and soon enough a floral scent danced around his nose. Looking around he still couldn't quite get over why there were so many odd varieties of dresses. Walking up to the counter he waited for the sells person to finish up with a customer, who seemed to be uncomfortable all of a sudden. Timothy wasn't well accustomed to the fact that a man, certainly a near teen-age one, shouldn't be in women's clothing store. Looking around he was off put by a pair of frilly undergarments on display. Always being the one prepare the laundry in the house he would scold his sisters he ever found them to wear something of that nature.


"Umm..sir. How can I help." stated a nervous voice. The women was a little on the short side with curled brown hair, her facial expression suggested to Timothy that she was a bit disgusted. The young man couldn't be sure as to why.


Timothy put on a business smile, "Hello my name is Timothy. I came here to speak to your manager about a purchase I made yesterday." he stated firmly.


"Oh, sure." said the brown haired women, whom seemed to be named Lora by her name tag. Turning her head she suddenly yelled out, "Ms.Kater! One of your patrons are here!" to which the sound of something falling over in the back room was heard.


It would be a lie to say Timothy wasn't startled by the sudden yelling. He set his gaze to the door where the sound of collapse came from. Patron.. he thought to himself. Soon enough a familiar middle aged women exited the backroom. The clear sand in her eyes indicated to Timothy that she was slumbering back there. Timothy wondered if she was they type of person to overwork themselves.


"What Lora?" she softly said before looking over to Timothy. A devilish grin grew on her face, "Oh, Tim. I didn't expect you for a week or so. How did the dress fit?" she asked.


"Oh, it fit surprisingly well." stated Timothy happily. Looking over at Lora her eyes squinted at him like some suspicions of hers was confirmed in that moment. Timothy held up his hands. "Wait don't get the wrong idea it wasn't for me." he said sheepishly


"Oh, but huns I told you would look sexy in it." stated Ms.Kater, a grin still on her face.


Lora shot him one last look before walking away, "We get all kinds here don't we?" were her last words before going into the backroom.


Ms.Kater chuckled as Timothy narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm glad to see things went over well then. I assume she enjoyed getting a nice dress from a handsome lad like yourself." she states as she walked around the counter to attend to a dress falling off its hook.


Timothy's mind lingered on Irene walking away so suddenly. "Yeah...I suppose." he stated quietly. "I came here to pay back some of what I owe you."


"Oh? If you pay it off to quickly it would be a shame." she stated as she straightened out some ruffles on an odd looking dress.


Why is that? he thought. "You don't have to worry. I was also looking to buy something today as well." he states.


Quickly Ms.Kater turned to Timothy, like a wolf catching the scent of a sheep. "Oh, choking the piggy bank some more are we? She must be quite special." she said, putting emphasis on the last few words.


Timothy shrugged, "Yeah whatever tickles your fancy. Um what do you think would go well with that dress?" he asks curious since he lacks a sense of social fashion.


Ms.Kater pouted for but a moment when Timothy shrugged off her tease, but her grin soon resurfaced. "Hmm well for such a simplistic dress I would suggest something like blue ear rings or a blue necklace to match her eyes. Still we don't sell jewelry here." she said as she walked, Timothy in toll. "As such something just as simplistic could really tie the dress together and give it a humble feel." she said. It seemed they reached an accessory section which included belts, silk gloves, hats, and scarfs of sorts.


To Timothy it seemed that Ms.Kater really cared for her work as she spoke passionately on the subject. This made him respect her quite a bit more in spite of her teasing. Her facial feature softened as she spoke a variety of dress accommodations. She seemed almost thrilled to be able talk about it. Timothy listened trying to keep up with her bursts of information and pep. Soon she waved a pair of white silk gloves near him.


"These are elegant, yet simplistic. They don't sell well anymore though." she said as she out stretched her arm pointing near her elbow. "It extends to almost the elbow, but their silk materials make them wonderfully soft. As you can see the only major details are these slight linen frills at the end." she said as she put them back with the other pairs of fancy gloves, gently so as well. "Now due to them failing to sell they were going to go on sell in a few months."


"Why did they fail to sell? They seem quite nice, even the materials are of good quality." he asked curious on the subject.


"It can't be helped. With the way fashion is today they are not 'hot' as it were. Still I thought you would be curious about it going on sell" she said giving him direct eye contact.


"Yes, of course. I was curious about the other thing as well..." he states feeling his words falling apart. "I need them today. How much are they? I can't wait for them to drop in price."


"Quite special indeed!" she loudly spoke. "Well they are originally around 180 dollars, but how does 120 dollars sound?" she asked starting to grab the gloves again.


Timothy swore his wallet was crying in that moment. "Since they lack the chance to sell in the formidable future making some cash on them should be quite good for you. How about we say 80 dollars?" stated Timothy. Some sweat was on his brow as he wondered if the 40 dollar drop was too much. The sale itself would cost more then all the food he bought even at the price he was bargaining for.


"That is utterly ridiculous Tim, but I can't rightfully stop a blooming relationship now can I...so deal." she stated as she offered the gloves. Her words were swift but didn't lack in sweetness. Certainly a people's person.


Timothy wondered if he should mention that this was an 'I'm sorry' gift, but he was going to have to work around the edge he had. "Yeah I think this will be enjoyed quite a lot by her. Thank you ma'am." he stated with a smile full of honest cheer.


It was only for a moment but Ms.Kater's eyes darted off to the side. "Oh, certainly dear you'll find they are quite nice on the skin with the way it hugs it ever so gently. The things you could do with a silky smooth touch such as that. It'll fit you perfectly huns." she stated loudly with a devilish grin again as she stroked his arm.


Wait why is she getting creepy? he thought to himself as he squinted at her. The sudden slam of door indicated everything. Timothy could only wonder over the impression the store clerk, Lora, had of him. "You enjoy doing this to people quite a bit don't you?" he said.


Taking in a breath of air as he left the store he looked to the sky. It seemed there was still a lot of day to go. In light of this he felt quite productive in what he had accomplished so far. He remembered Irene mentioning for him to explore the city. The idea of doing so didn't seem like a good one in light of him not having a map and skipping breakfast, along with the dinner last night. For Timothy exploring a delicious stir fry seemed like a much more excellent idea. After a few minutes of being impatient he got a cab to halt for him. The trip back to his apartment, his new home, was one filled the thoughts of food. Timothy felt much calmer and composed, though the subject of the frame still wracked his nerves he knew anger wasn't an answer. Even if with this knowledge he couldn't quite trust himself. Soon the matter would be faced as the cab neared the building.


Looking up at the third floor from outside he felt nervous of what would come of all this. Each step felt a bit more difficult but the youth soon was back in the lobby. As he neared the elevator he expected the manager to approach him again. To his surprise he seemed to be no where in sight. This was most inconvenient as Timothy had planned to say sorry to the old man for his rudeness in the morning. As the elevator went up his grip on the little brown bag holding the gloves grew tighter. Upon exiting he was taking deep and controlled breathes. He was about to knock on the door,but was unsure of himself. Shaking it off her knocked, "Irene?" he stated. Surely he could enter, but he felt he needed permission this time around.

 

[Bye.]

While she waited for Timothy to arrive back, Irene tended to the bed. She took his bags off of it, placing them onto the floor carefully. After that, she gathered the blankets and spread them gently over the bed. She fluffed the pillows and placed them neatly upon the bed, leaning them against the wall. Once that was done, she grabbed his bags and placed them back on the bed, right in the middle in a neat pile.

Once the bedroom was done, she headed for the bathroom to dry some water left on the counter. She placed the shower curtain back outside of the tub to give the bathroom some color. Right after this, she heard the knocking at the door. Using her brain this time, she tip toed over and looked through the peephole. Once she saw it was Timothy she smiled and put her hand on the doorknob. For a quick second she stopped, wondering why he knocked. But then she remembered that she had locked the door. Opening it, she stepped aside so he could get in. She was wondering why he had left without saying goodbye, but figured that he had just been in a rush and let the thought slide.

"Hello..." Irene greeted, a bit nervously. She hoped that Timothy wasn't upset about how she stuck her nose in his business.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (1:05 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

The small chime of Irene's voice was heard as she opened the door. Is she disappointed or angry with me? he thought to himself as she came into view. A smile curled on his face as he tried to keep up a positive mood in general. "Hello Irene." he stated as he stiffened up a bit, "I'm sorry for the pressure I placed on your earlier...it was immature of me as a person." he said mumbling the last part. The thought of her suddenly dashing off still lingered on his mind, but he couldn't allow his words to linger in this fashion. "On my little trip today I have done some thinking." he said. In an ironic twist Timothy was a bit happy about the possibility of the first cab driver leading him off course. It allowed him the time to think and work past emotions that she would have otherwise triggered. Furthermore more it allowed him to gain for her a proper gift to show he meant he was sorry.


Looking at Irene now he could see there was more to her than strong curiosity and a quick tongue. She may have been a open book on the terms of her past, but her truthfulness ran short when it came to her emotions. Timothy could tell this much when Irene suddenly ran away in contrast to her apparent curiosity just hours ago. What are you really feeling? he thought to himself, though he wouldn't voice this to avoid jumping on assumptions. His smile became a bit more natural at these thoughts as he rarely met people that teased away at his mind. Timothy was always one for a good mystery. "Is it okay if I come in to talk with you, my roommate?" he said ready to move forward.

 

[Bye.]

Pressure? But...I was the one placing pressure...not Timothy. Irene thought. Never had the thought crossed her mind that Timothy was the one placing pressure. She always thought that she was pressuring because of her nosey behavior. Everything by now must be a misunderstanding. "No, please...don't be sorry." She said. The whole reason she had left the room was to get her nose out of his business. Looking back on it now, he might be curious as to why she left. She didn't really give him a reason, and now he's saying sorry for something that she didn't think was his fault.

She nodded her head. "You have?" She asked. I wonder what...Irene thought. She continued to stand, a bit awkwardly as she thought about how things had started today. She brushed herself off and looked at him, tilting her head a bit at his question. "Timothy," Irene started, chuckling a bit. "You don't need to ask to come in. You live here now. This is your home, there's no need for you to ask permission." Irene smiled. "I'm more than happy to talk." She smiled, walking a couple steps from the door.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Date: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (1:10 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy adjusted the collar of his shirt as he walked into the room, "Thank you." he states. The room itself had a chill about it that he more then welcomed from the heat of the city, though he questioned if this was due to Irene. Looking down he noticed the bed was already prepared to which Timothy felt a bit guilty since he was the one who messed it up. He sat down on the bed gently as to not disturb the nicely set blanket. "You know I feel like we both have ownership of this room." he said looking towards her. Though from a contractual standpoint you still own it he thought. Setting the bag full of cooking supplies beside him it gave off a metallic sound as the pan knocked around a bit.


He drummed his fingers a bit as he calculated his words, "So...the picture. Even talking about it even now is a bit difficult. Still I just met you not long ago yet I have already caused you discomfort." he stated with a follow up sigh. I have to be honest he thought. "The main reason I shoved it towards you is because I didn't care." he said giving a weak chuckle at the end. "That is what I thought at that point at least, when you had me panicked. Reality is I'm scared to show you or more specifically anyone." The subject was bearing down on him again, but not like before since he prepared. Thinking about it privately was an easy task as he found it hard to put into words, the thought as to why this was pestered the young man's mind. "I'm sorry I projected my insecurities in that fashion rather then just being upfront with it." he said bluntly. Timothy didn't find any humility in his words as that is simple how things were.

 

[Bye.]

Irene focused on the sound of the pans for a moment then soon realized what it was. She figured that he'd go buy some eventually after remembering that there were none left behind for him. A few moments after he sat on the bed she joined him, sitting a little more than a foot away. She didn't interrupt him as he talked, nor did she say anything at all. She waited till he was done. Listening to his words made her more angry at herself. She didn't want Timothy to think that he made her uncomfortable, because he didn't.

Her head shook. "No Timothy. No need to be sorry. I'm sorry. I'm the one who was getting nosey. Please don't say sorry, I'll forgive anything anyway. You've gained my forgiveness just by staying here. You don't know how many times I've tried to make people stay, but they didn't. For you doing this has made me ever so grateful. So, no need to say sorry." She said, a long moment of silence falling after she spoke. "Besides...there's no need to say sorry to a ghost." Her insecurity of not living was beginning to come out. She said the last part in a mumble, probably hard for him to hear.

Her gaze continued to stay at the floor. "Thank you...for not leaving." She said it quietly, but clearly. For some reason she was feeling sad at the moment. But it was a different kind of sad. More of a 'feeling bad' type of sad. She hoped that Tim didn't stay here just because he felt bad. She feels bad if that's the case, but for some reason she doesn't think he'd do that. The thought lingered on her for a little while longer as she stared at the floor in silence.​