Eileen Mulford's Story

In wing city's underlayer below the hospital the place its unfortunate inhabitants self-deprecatingly called the "Meat Locker" had little to do but rest. Some simply asked to remain in stasis but the Jinhai had to bring them back to thought periodically so their minds did not decay. The seats of mankind that were salvageable remained here as Jinhai collected the bodies of recently dead throughout the city. Prioritization was certainly in order, from their perspective, but they had a limited amount of spare parts with which to rebuild children thanks to Gaia. Sadly one predated the Aetherkind's effect on the city and was left untouched. The Jinhai advanced their own equipment to provide for her and allowed the child to roam so that stasis did not inhibit the Humankind's growth.

A crushed body and mind held alive on a lucent dias within a soothing dim room inside the meat locker woke from her dream. Eileen popped into existence a translucent astral projection enabled to serve the mind as a body. It nearly scared a mortuary worker to death and Eileen fled upstairs. She ended in a closed cafeteria in the dead of night, having simply phased through locked doors, and was busily eating muffins from the break room.

Her dark eyes looked about as visible muffin bits in her mouth that slowly turned to ectoplasm and vanished. A thought came to her with the end of a bite of muffin. She needed milk for her muffins! The misty lower half pointed parallel to the floor as she pushed a stool with muffins atop it over to a closed ice box.

"I want milk too, Mr Muffin!", a hollow child's voice echoed against the tile.

Elsewhere, a small floating girl squinted her eyes with an armful of muffins thinking with a pursed lip of someplace else she wanted to be.

Earlier she'd poit-ed home but it was just an empty lot now with a square spot of floor where her bedroom used to be. She hovered over the square floor, wailing until midnight, but nobody in the slums would come near the translucent little 'ghost' hovering in mid-air over where her bed used to be. She woke up the next morning having went to sleep hovering sideways in some dusty shack that still stood up. The muffins she'd gotten from the hospital after waking up.

A wet noise came in midair as a small ectoplasmic projection pointed to the gardens. Eileen's arms flailed and she squealed out worry at being so far off the ground displaced upward as she was. The ground, namely a particular Russian, shortly got a not-quite-orbital bombardment by a half-dozen loose muffins.

Clover used the unexpected distraction to get away, bolting away out of the garden on all fours. It was now or never!

Russian looked up in the skies as he heard a noise. "What on Terr--" He started until he was silenced by muffins raining down on him. If there was a flying muffin delivery truck...then he really hated whoever was driving that. Muffins...Random muffins?

"Seriously...Muffins? What a day this is." He shrugged.

Eileen was translucent and stories in the air she could almost feel something in her chest beat harshly while whipping her arms around. Then like standing up in a shallow pond she realized she wasn't falling. It took Eileen a moment to figure out how to... down. She could fly! She stretched her arms out thinking of going up until realizing up didn't seem to work.

"Awwwww," She pouted then remembered, "My muffins!"

Flying straight down a child's voice rapidly approached entirely forgetting brakes, "My Muffiiiiiins!"

In a hard splort of ectoplasm she made small puddle then immediately popped back up into shape head swimming, "Um, owie."

Clover ran as fast as she could, not looking back once until she was back in Wing City...

Russian looked at the sound of the voice and after rubbing his eyes to make sure he was not on something, he saw the ghost of some small kid. A ghost?...with Muffins?...Ok he has seen many things like a samurai that can cut tanks to a catgirl with a hammer bashing some entity in the face. But a ghost with muffins? Now that was unheard of. Well...He was just going to relax...nothing creppy about a ghostly child...with muffins...Seriously...was he one something today? He thought as he sat down on a bench.

The ghost girl looked up at the man to bend up at some indiscernible waistline. She grabbed the few muffins below her and held them close. Her black eyes had more of a slightly dusty spot than a pupil like some black pearl but one could tell where she was looking at.

She looked at him demurely with a voice small and hollow, "Um, sorry mister man. I dropped my muffins on you."

One that had broken open the plastic packaging caught her sight, "Aw I broke one! It'll go bad!"

The translucent girl shifted slowly over to the splattered bit of muffin and started picking the pieces off the ground. They immediately went into her mouth and one could see the dark bits floating slowly inward where a stomach ought to be. Mother always said waste not want not! The muffin parts slowly started to vanish inside her and Eileen looked down to watch for a moment poking her tummy.

Russian raised his eye as he...watched a ghost eat some muffins and they somehow began to vanish like they were being digested. In response he grabbed his canteen in uniform and took a sample of the alcohol inside before putting it in his device. It concluded that the alcohol inside was regular Whiskey. Nothing added. So much for that...Of course the ghost apologized and the man simply nodded slowly. "Thanks...I guess..." He spoke.

Without any effort of floating and little sound the little ghost girl took her armful of broken muffins to the bench. The largest piece of the remainder of the destroyed muffin plastic held in her small mouth. Bounty between them dented though her muffins now were. Scuffed black pearls for eyes still lit up with boundless optimism like any child's did. Hair fluttering partly weightless at the ends lay as if dirty and clumped together as the discordant flaps of ectoplasm that formed her lower half like a tattered skirt.

Her left hand refined out of indistinct fluff to offer one of her dented treasures to the man, "Are you hungry, mister man? You can have one. I can get more."

She leaned in whispering with a finger of her right to her lips, "I was hungry when I got to the hospital. Don't tell the dark man!"

Okay...This event has made the top ten most weirdest moments of his life. A ghost was offering him a muffin, yeah...no...If a ghost made a muffin then who knows what it was made of. "Thanks, but I am not hungry." Russian replied. "And sure...I wont tell the dark man..." He added just to humor her.

She smiled full of approval at the russian, "Yay! The dark man gets me new legs! They're all flat now so the dark man cut them off."

Small fingers poked at her skirt, "My old ones dinna work anyways. I dun wanna make him angry!"

The scuffed pearls looked down at her tattered skirt, "Where do you live, mister man? I went home but after all the shaking the slums are gone now. Everything is flat squares now. I guess I live under the hospital with the dark men now."

All Jinhai stopped in their tracks overcoats billowing in some unseen wind. The three pivot turn in unison to address the question put to them unmoved by the threat to their person. Each gloved hand held at their side, listless. Mouths seen under bandages did move when they spoke but with a bare imitation of a 'face' hidden underneath. Firstly a momentary discussion ensued among them to evaluate the request.

"The Almanac indicates such a group is not under the purview of the Living Emperor."
"Irrelevant. All humankind is within the perview the Living Emperor."
"Stated group is inconsistent with a threat to humankind. No related affiliation dicta exist."
"Agreed. The request is permissible by humankind; group affiliation is of no concern."

Each used the same voice as the closest answered literally, "We have finished rekindling the humankind. We took your elevator from below."

Another pointed at the man's head describing purpose, "After rebuilding a body for viable thrones of mankind we must return completed humankind to your care."

Another raised the flat of hand as black dust leaked to shape a shadow dragon of black smoke to inform constraints, "Recent events tainted unused replacements. Our duties require destruction of fallen tainted humankind."

One then pointed to the elevator to specify their origin, "A stasis facility was constructed underneath this human construction to hold damaged thrones of humankind until they have completed rekindling."

Two behind the one that spoke gestured to the woman and the confused man, "They have been rekindled. The life of humankind now resumes. We have no further interest."

The closest cocked its bandaged head volunteering status updates from below, "Upgrades are in progress to permit more live but incomplete humankind to remain in aetheric projection until parts are available. 14 projection upgrades have been completed."

~~~

The man's terrified face darted to soldiers aiming weapons at him breaking his focus on the new tattooed legs. His eyes raced for an explanation and stammered, "I... was dead? Wait, wait, guys, I'm not a soldier! The prison tattoos aren't mine! I am... was... uh I am just a EMT! Please don't shoot me! I don't want to die again!"

A small child's voice peeped from a vent on the ceiling down the hall as Eileen stuck her white translucent head stuck through the grating, "Don't shoot the dark men!"

As Administratum determined Eileen's caregivers were deceased and had no path to caregivers her long-term state called into question. Confining a Humankind to the hospital forever would be tantamount to imprisoning one thus lacking interest in the orphanage system considered other venues. Her long and dedicated exposure had developed a mild psionic affinity thus it was determined to enhance her projection locus to access the Way network. Wherever their small mouse-holes crisscrossed reality she could move her projection. They'd provided her with travel brochures from city hall and after she'd read several decided on a pretty planet she wanted to explore. A simple interface provided to the little one left the 9 year old to her own exploration.

Using the book the dark men gave her to take pictures the floating girl could conjure things to wear. They were not real but she could feel them finally having more than the frock in her stasis well. Behind a bush hiding her lower half sported a top hat with goggles that did nothing and a bright red tailcoat jacket. Laced up gloves on each hand what she lacked as Doreen moved closer would be legs underneath. If nothing else the whiteless void of black eyes and blinding alabaster skin. Hair more of the same though unkempt stuck out from the cap brim. Able to pick small things up now after some practice fiddled with making a flower crown while looking back the way Doreen came.

Eileen smiled and waved the brown lacy gloves as Doreen approached.

"Pretty flower, yeah?" Doreen smiled at the small girl with the flower, then jut a thumb over her shoulder north. She had yet to notice the girl was floating.

"Did you happen to catch that this morning?" Over the girl's head, far far far down the main way, Doreen could see a mass forming at the Harbor. Port Goldengear was bustling more than usual. A large airship floated around a rock formation and came to dock, coming from the Cogsman University of Technology. Her eyes widened- she wasn't the only one who saw it, couldn't have been!

Eileen looked up from under her top-hat brim the shining orb voids for eyes focused on Doreen little dampened a child's chubby smile, "Yeah! I've been picking up things for hours! The flowers are so far away."

Eileen looked at the ground to bend forward and back chanting to herself, "Down down down down down."

Distracted she rotated in place without a sound to follow Doreen's gaze replying with one hand rubbing her top hat and goggles, "Well, I was here and I felt something moving all the little gossamer strings. It tickled in my head!"

Doreen paled as she made eye contact with the girl, as she watched her rotate in place. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Was this happening? She blinked hard and stiffened in place recognizing the signs from the posters plastered around the city. A supernatural entity! But the way the ghost hunters and dead talkers made it seem wasn't all like this. Aside her looks and otherworldly presence there wasn't much truly scary about the little girl. Just, unsettling.

"Well that's a very nice crown, you've got, there," Doreen tried not to let the panic she felt in her gut show. She could handle the mountains by herself, what was a little girl ghost to what lurked in Knightheart Valley?

"I'm going to check up on the hubub down there. It looks like the University is getting ready to dispatch a mission! Are you here, alone?"

Shrugging through her red tailcoat jacket replied Eileen purse-lipped, "The dark men said my Mom and Dad died. My house fell in and they were too squished. The dark men are nice and keeping me from going bad until they get parts to fix me. Somebody took 'em all! They let me go wherever I wanna now."

Innocent of the fear Eileen looked up and threw the woven crown of small yellow and white flowers aimed to land on Doreen's head. Very much normal flowers she'd picked from the tallest plants they had their own faint scent. Even if Eileen herself had none.

Her toothy smile burning as bright as her throat was dark cheered, "Here! You can have the crown! Carrying stuff makes me kinda tired. I wanna see the floaty ship too!"

Goldengear Harbor

Bustling harbor of Port Goldengear, sits at the bottom of the main road. Airships coming and going, with the occasional ship docking at the few sea docks. Please wait for customs to debrief your vessel before disembarking.

Doreen got the cold creeps again as the little girl talked about her death, and her parent's death, and shared more details of her lack of mortality. When she mentioned the right parts, Eileen's mind began to churn, which did a good job of suppressing much of her fear.

The flower crown floated down onto Doreen and she couldn't help but giggle. Even though she was still uneasy, it seemed everyone was getting ghosts all wrong around here. She wasn't so bad; definitely not a knightbear, or a bandit.

"Thank you! Speaking of parts," Doreen adjusted the crown to make sure it stayed in place and started towards the harbor, "The Cogsman University has many great scholars. Myself, I study there in mechanics. Lots of fixers, lots of parts. Perhaps someone will know something?" She half held out a hand for Eileen to grab if she could.

Eileen did indeed reach up with her ornate leather glove and put her hand in Doreen's. Everything said a substance was there, with hints of flesh and bone inside, as if small fingers idly moving. Though some of the senses denied or inconsistant. The faint wrinkles of leather present to Doreen's fingertips a bit too smooth. As was the rustle of mittens not leather between fingers came to ear. Neither cold nor warm however expressed a presence to doreen in partial void of that sensation. If anything Eileen's small glove kept heat from escaping a larger hand supremely well.

Floated along beside to the city without the constant bob of legged people her cheer bobbed instead. Humming to herself reached into her small tailcoat jacket to pull out a book. A feather popped from the spine of a book bound in downy black cloth, On its front a label of sterile grey letters 'Eileen Mulford, Humankind, Anchored, Viable' a label also written shadowy places of dark stone.

Manipulated with one hand the book refused to totter away from her touch. Bobs and weaves balanced on her fingertip Eileen's gyroscope and compass. She raised it and looked to the environs though inside the clearly open book Doreen would see nothing. Just empty tan vellum pages spread open.

Eileen's moving gaze in rapt attention to the page belied something there as did her cheer, "There's so many little lines! The dark men must look here a lot! They're really busy though. They said I could go anywhere I could see the lines."

She looked down past her tailcoat where an amorphous overlong torso of white simply ended. Where legs ought to be had never been at all. The lower half ill-structured and wavy as if half-forgotten.

In a child's passing interest of serious things looked up to ask, "Do you think the university has legs? The dark men said they weren't allowed to change my busted legs. I dunno."

She bobbed side to side a hips underneath push her red tailcoat at angles, "I guess I like this better than my old wheelchair. Stupid no-legs!"