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Jamie Page

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0 · 481 views · located in Cursed Wood

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Script

Groups

Registered citizen of the Terran National Government

Description

...

So begins...

Jamie Page's Story

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: The Batter
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#, as written by Script
It so happened that the Batter wasn't the only white, semi-luminescent being in the area at that moment. With an eerie wail - or had that just been a yawn? - another figure drifted from the trees, gliding a few inches off the ground and occasionally flickering in and out of translucency. The floating figure was that of a young man, slight of figure and relatively short of stature, and as devoid of colour as the Batter was - aside from the violet-red glow to his irises. He was dressed remarkably mundanely, in a jacket and belted trousers that were just as desaturated as he was.

Jamie Page, ex-adventurer, floated lazily across the glen before his eyes fell upon the Batter. His eyebrows rose. "Now there's something you don't see every day," he remarked, his youthful voice echoing slightly as though not quite of this world. "And there I thought I was the only pure-white person I'd be likely to come across. Solid. Or not, at least in my case."

The young ghost raised a hand in a joking salute, "White power, my companion in paleness." he said, before pausing. "On second thought, that was probably a poor choice of words. White pride? No, still bad. Albino agreeableness? Eh, whatever. Hi there! How's your day going? I'm dead, so you can have one guess about how mine's going."

He paused for effect.

"Time's up, the tension's killing me. Extra, that is. The answer is: ghastly."

Another pause.

"Get it? Ghastly? Because 'ghast'? Lovecraft? No? Eesh, tough crowd."

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: The Batter
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The Batter didn't bat an eye (well... not that you could see his eyes as they were covered by the shadow of his cap) at the jokes. "I am the Batter. You are obviously a Spectre." he simply stated, spinning the bat in his hand. "It's my mission to purify any ectoplasms I find in my quest." the man continued. Well... obviously, he's got some beef with ghosts...

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: The Batter
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#, as written by Script
"Well, the Batter," Jamie replied, folding his arms, "I dunno how you intend to go about purifying my ectoplasms, 'cause I sure as hell wasn't pure when I died. I can be glad of that at least. In some circles I was considered quite a naughty boy."

The ghostly young man winked. "Oh, didn't mean it like that? My bad. But look, dude, fella, brother. Mah man. A ghost I might be, but that doesn't make me a bad guy. That's racist, that is. What happened to white pride, huh? I ain't hurting nobody, buddy, and I don't plan to be. I mean, I probably can't. It's hard enough for me to become solid enough to pick up a pen, I can't see myself hurting anyone any time soon. So we cool? I think we cool."

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: The Batter
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The Batter watched, quirking an eyebrow. True, this Spectre hadn't attacked him on sight most of the other Spectres had in the Zones... After pondering for a bit, the strange man nodded. This spirit will end up getting purified eventually, and he didn't seem to be doing much harm, so he suppose he could leave him be for now. "Fine, you'll get your peace."

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: The Batter
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#, as written by Script
"Sweet!" Jamie grinned, drifting across the Glen closer to where the Batter was. "So what are you, anyhow? You look like a ghost, but I'm guessing you aren't one by the way your immediate reaction to be being one was to want to 'purify' me. I'd say you were some sort of holy ghost-hunter, but the way you're dressed makes you look more like the average major league baseball player. And, well, you're called the Batter."

The ghost shrugged his shoulders, "Colour me befuddled, you're quite the oddity. And that's coming from a ghost, who used to be an explorer. I've seen a lotta weird stuff."

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: The Batter
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The Batter responded with a boat-load of information... and by that, I mean he hardly told Jamie anything. "All you need to know is that I'm the Batter and it's my holy mission to purify the world of all corrupt souls." The Batter was an enigma... and he purposely kept it that way. Nothing else mattered to him... except for his holy mission. He had to purge every world of all corruption... every blight, every sense of evil would be extinguished from every planet, world, universe, zone... whatever. It was his mission.

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: The Batter
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#, as written by Script
"Oh, well, maybe you oughta consider going and batting some politicians in the face then. I mean, it's not just the dead that can have corrupt souls, yeah?" Jamie smirked, "I can't imagine that'd go down as well though, would it? People are probably all fine over ghostbusting, but when it turns into killing people? They'd probably be more bothered."

The ghost tisked, "Which is really a double standard. I mean, I might be dead, but I reckon exorcising me or whatever is still basically murder. From my perspective, at least. I'd feel a lot deader."

The setting changes from the-hidden-glen to Cursed Wood

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: Brother Sam
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#, as written by Gasmask
Brother Sam hated the woods, even more so when he had entered. The place was cursed, and the howls of distant wolves only made him keep a hand on the hilt of his warhammer. It was a brutal thing, that hammer, and it gave him a sense of confidence in this dark place.

His destrier however loved the dewy grass, frequently stomping to chomp up green reeds.

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: Brother Sam
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#, as written by Script
As Sam made his way through the trees, an eerie wailing echoed up from the shadows of the woods. "Aaaaaah..."

The cry resonated unnaturally in the air, sounding both distant and close at the same time. "Aaaaaah..."

From the ground before Sam's destrier, a translucent white form rose shakily, shrouded in mist and with its hands lifted to cover its face.

"Aaaaaah.... CHOO!"

In a rush, the mist billowed outwards away from the figure as it sneezed, lowering its hands to reveal a boyish face with dimly glowing eyes. Jamie rubbed at his nose, before seemingly noticing Sam for the first time.

"Oh, hey, sorry about that mate." he said, voice still just as unnatural as the wailing, "Dusty down there." he added, pointing at the ground. "Tomb."

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: Brother Sam
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#, as written by Gasmask
"Ahuma preserve me." Sam grunted, patting his horse frantically to keep it from spooking. "Easy, girl, easy." The priest held a hand over his heart to stop it from beating, he was right about this place, it was cursed. "It is pretty dusty in tombs, indeed." Sam added, his face not hiding his bewilderment.

Brother Sam removed his hand from the hilt of his warhammer. "I trust you're not here to kill me or possess me?"

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: Brother Sam
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#, as written by Script
"Well, even if I was, I'd have a hard time of it." Jamie replied, "Not very good at this ghost thing yet. Still figuring out how it all works. Can't even go invisible yet. I'm just sort of drifting."

He paused, before giving a short laugh. "Hah. That's funny, because, I'm a ghost. So I'm literally drifting. As in, floati- I'll stop now."

It was quite odd, hearing someone talk quite so... mundanely with an echoing, supernatural voice. Like a being from beyond communing through a mirror just to ask who won X-Factor.

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: Brother Sam
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#, as written by Gasmask
"Strange people, stranger times." Sam replied, the cursed wood had lost a fair few degrees of scariness. The horse made a whuffing noise as the priest swung his legs over the horse and thumped onto the ground. "Do you know why you haven't passed on?"

Brother Sam moved to move his hand though Jamie's face. It was a little rude but how else could he be sure that this wasn't some elaborate prank.

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: Brother Sam
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#, as written by Script
Jamie reeled backwards away from the hand, "Um, okay, first thing's first. That's not okay. Would you just reach out and touch someone's face if they weren't a ghost? I just floated out of the floor in front of you, it's probably safe to say I can go through things."

He folded his arms and glared. "And no, no idea. Probably something to do with some ancient cursed artefact I took from one tomb or another over the course of my miscellaneous underground adventures."

He shrugged. "Shit happens."

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: Brother Sam
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#, as written by Gasmask
"Tombs are sacred places." Sam replied, scratching his chin. "I wouldn't, but you're a ghost. I don't think they've thought up ghost rights yet." Sam chuckled.

"Sorry, can't say I've ever met a ghost that wasn't tortured or angry, or trapped her by some sin or another." He circled around the ghost and then held out his hand, realized that the ghost wouldn't be able to shake it and withdrew it.

"I'm Brother Sam. You are?"

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#, as written by Script
"Jamie - Jamie Page. Intrepid explorer! Or... well, I was. I was a regular Indiana Jones, until I er, died. Indiana Jones never did that. Poison, it was! Realised I was fucked the moment I picked up the artefact in question. Quite a sad moment. Wouldn't want to do that again. But!"

Jamie paused, looked down at himself and shrugged. "Could've gone worse, eh? At least I'm still around. Sort of."

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: Brother Sam
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#, as written by Gasmask
"Still around? An aberration to the natural order of life, but still around. I envy your carefree nature, Jamie Page." Sam replied, smiling warmly. "Do you know where this artefact might be? You could have a way to lift the curse and be resurrect in flesh."

The destrier snorted, padding the ground with a mighty hoof and placidly chewing on a reef of grass blades, eyeing the ghost with an intense stare as it chewed, unblinking.

"I'd offer my services."

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"Aberration is such a dirty word, don't you think?" Jamie replied, folding his arms in a disgruntled huff. "I prefer 'apparation'. And what's natural about life these days, anyway, am I right? I think I'm right."

The ghost pondered for a moment, "The artefact that killed me is a ways away, some old temple or other. I think over a sea. I could probably find my way back there if I just started floating from memory. I've never been a maps guy. Who needs 'em, right? But thing is, I'm not even sure if the thing that killed me and the thing that cursed me are the same thing. Might have picked up the curse years ago, in which case I'm extra fucked."

He paused.

"Aw man, that reminds me. I'm really gonna miss sex. Dammit."

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: Brother Sam
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#, as written by Gasmask
The priest made a noise similar to someone getting a chunk of food caught in his throat. "Maybe more of a reason to find your way, Mister Paige." Sam said, leaning against a tree trunk. The ghost didn't seem sinful except for a rather despicable taste in fashion, even as a man of the cloth.

The horse snorted again, flicking its ears up and looking far off into the distance, tail whipping.

"Do you know why you're hanging around in burrowed tombs in the middle of a ominous wood, son?"

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: Brother Sam
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#, as written by Script
"Old habits die hard, I suppose." Jamie replied with a shrug and a grin, "Same sorta place you mighta found me before I kicked the bucket. Exploring's in my blood. Or, in something, anyway. Since I don't exactly have any blood any more."

He shook his head, "You never really notice how many turns of phrase rely upon you having a body to make sense until you don't have one." he mused.

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Character Portrait: Jamie Page Character Portrait: Brother Sam
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#, as written by Gasmask
"I might not know much about the undead, I know someone who can banish them but I can't say that this might be the best place for you, son. There are always bigger, darker things waiting to eat up the lesser shadows." Sam replied, and as if to add a punch to his statement, that howling in the distance picked up.

The horse whinnied, prompting the priest to put a hand on his warhammer again.

"You want to follow me out of this dark place then, maybe we could help each-other out?"

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#, as written by Script
Jamie shrugged, "Sure, why not? Ain't like I've got anything more pressing to do. My schedule's pretty free since the whole death thing."

He flashed the holy man a smile, "Lead the way then. You seem like a good guy and all, if there's a hand I can lend you, then consider it yours. Y'know, metaphorically. Since I don't have proper hands any more."

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#, as written by Gasmask
"You seem like a good man, if a little on the dead side." Brother Sam snapped his fingers, patting his destrier's face and then leaping onto his horse in a smooth, well practiced move. "Do you have family or friends who don't yet know of your falling?" Sam asked, setting his horse into a quick stride though the dark forest.

"Any foes that need smiting?" Sam laughed, turning his head to smile at Jamie.

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#, as written by Script
"Nah... I think it's been a while, actually. It's easy to lose track of time when you're dead, but as I recall, pretty much everyone I knew when I was alive is dead."

He coughed as he drifted alongside the horse, occasionally absent mindedly passing through a tree branch.

"Cheery thought, I know, but ah well. I reckon I must have been dormant for a few decades at the very least before I pulled myself together enough to start floating around and actually appearing to people. And as for foes, I think I'm good. Never pissed anyone off enough to really get a nemesis. It's almost a shame."

The ghost rolled in the air onto his back, stretching out into a lounging position as he floated along. "How about you? You seem to me like a man on a quest. Where's life taking you, eh?"

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#, as written by Gasmask
"Caldonia. A pilgrimage if you will." Brother Sam chuckled, keeping a tight hold on the reins of his horse, gazing along the distant misty borders of the forest, the bugs and insects only adding to the general atmosphere of the place, Sam could feel the mist clinging to him like a sopping cloak, at least he could take comfort that the dead didn't have to feel the mugginess.

"Damned if you, damned if you didn't, what a way to go, Mister Paige. Just like me."

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#, as written by Script
"G'ael? That's up north, isn't it? Lot of spooky things, lot of superstitious angry folk that hate the undead?" Jamie whistled, "Sounds like a perfect place for a ghost to go on holiday. What's there that you're pilgrimaging to? Some religious site or other, I suppose. It's consistently surprising the strange places people think to put their holy sites. You have to wonder how anyone was ever expected to worship at the Temple of Doom, located in the middle of a pit of lava in the middle of a towering mountain miles from civilisation and surrounded by dangerous animals."

He shook his head, "Shows a marked lack of planning, if you ask me."