[Crystalkitsune85]

The voice was faint as if it were a whisper. She barely caught any of what he said. It was sort of on the same premise of hearing a TV on in another room but not being able to hear the dialogue. "Hey, um if you're talking I can sort of hear it, but it's super faint I can't make it out." she said and frowned. She was trying to dredge up what she saw on those ghost hunting shows and recalled she needed like a voice recorder. She didn't have anything but her phone that captured voices.

She fished her phone out of her pocket and set it up to record voices. "Okay Ghost person, speak into my phone. Just come in as close as you can and say what you need to say into it. If you are speaking it should come through okay." she held it up and when she felt the cold over her hand again, she hit 'record'. "Just step away when you're done so I know to turn it off."

((yes lol))

[sylvanSpider]

Benjamin stopped and blinked. Did she actually...could...she actually hear him? This was wonderful news indeed! Beauty, which he could now safely call "April" after hearing Steven say it so many times, now held out her phone to him to speak to. Perhaps so she could turn up the volume? It was true that he'd witnessed technology grow through the years, but this was the newest he'd seen in a long time. There were no cords or anything. Perhaps they added recording devices? That must be what that was. He was finally able to speak to her.

He cleared his throat and leaned in to what he assumed to be the mouthpiece and decided to be short but concise, "My name is Benjamin. I was murdered in this house in 1847, though I don't know who or what did it or why." With a small quiver in his voice he added, "I'm hoping that once I find out I can...go."

[Crystalkitsune85]

She waited until the cold pocket of air caused by Ben drifted away before she hit 'stop' on the voice recorder and then she played it back. It wasn't loud as if he were speaking to her in the same room but she caught a name at least. Benjamin. The rest didn't come through well enough to make sense. "Benjamin. Is that your name? Well nice to meet you...I guess." she said putting her phone back into her pocket. "I don't think any of my family that owned this house before me was named Benjamin so you must be the one that was murdered. I can check on it more when my internet gets hooked up later." she said.

She did have an idea though, it was a stretch but she told Ben to hold on for a moment and she went and grabbed her laptop. She opened it on the kitchen counter and brought up Microsoft Word. "Okay Ben, I'm not sure if you can understand or even if you have enough power to do this, but if you can push a plate off the counter you can push keys on a computer maybe? Each one of these keys represents a letter. Just see if you can type 'hi'." she said.

[sylvanSpider]

Benjamin breathed a sigh of relief. It was working, at Beauty was by no means empty-headed. That, at least, was comforting. Now, she knew his name. He was a bit behind on the times in the sense that the last inhabitants that lived here lived here before whatever the "Internet" was, but he assumed it would be some other sort of useful technology. They'd certainly come a long way since his time period. He'd never had anyone call him 'Ben' before, it being considered in "incomplete" name, so it was disconcerting at first. But, April was smart and seeming to be more than willing to help so for her, yes, Ben would be fine. His eyes widened as he looked at the screen, it was like a "television" that he saw before, with the other families with the exception that the user could evidently manipulate the display.Fascinating, he thought before shaking his head and looking at the keyboard that she was indicating.Right. It's like a typewriter. I can do this. With concentration, he managed to get an "h" before the blinking cursor. He stopped to take a deep breath. This was energy consuming but he was going to make it. He had to make it. Finally, he hit the "ig" with one rush, finishing it off with the final "h". He had no idea why she would ask him to type that word specifically, but he'd managed. He turned to look at her to see if he'd done it correctly, or more importantly, if it showed up to her at all.

[Crystalkitsune85]

"High." She then giggled. "Well close enough. But it does work! And you did say hi...sort of." she then tapped her chin. "It must be a lot of energy to do that, it took some time to get just those 4 letters out. But communication has started at least!" she smiled. "Now I can ask you questions and you can try and type them out here. I'll start small so you don't need to work too hard." she said. "Do you know what year you died? Or at least the last date you remember?" she asked.

[sylvanSpider]

Benjamin nodded eagerly, momentarily forgetting that she couldn't see him, waiting for the next question of the interrogation. He'd have to hit twelve keys, but he reminded himself that he'd borrowed energy from the spirit before.

There was a pause before anything happened on the keyboard until finally numbers started appearing: 23/10/1846.

[Crystalkitsune85]

She read the date. "The Twenty-Third of October...1846. So you ARE the son of the banker that died! This is exciting! Sadly I can't search for more info about you yet, but I hope to find a picture or something." She said. She tried to think of other questions, but she really couldn't think of much. "How old were you?" she asked finally.

[sylvanSpider]

Two syllables. That was easier. That he could muster--every time he hit the keys it seemed to get easier. As far as pictures went, he was certain there were some in the boxes in the attic. He'd watched them pack it up when the new family came in.

In his life, he'd had a few portraits done. A couple were done as a lad (oh, the struggles they went through to keep him still!), and he'd been lucky enough to have one taken of him while he breathed. Two after his death. Now, he was amazed at the fact that anyone could take a picture any time any where. When he was a living breathing human, only the extremely wealthy and the dead ever had their photographs taken. He'd had two taken after his death, one that he was aware of. While he was still on the floor laying in his own blood and viscera. The ax that was used was there as well, discarded beside his concave head.

He pushed a key twice, the key visibly indenting as he did so: 22. He looked at her trying to gauge her reaction.

[Crystalkitsune85]

She watched and waited for the screen to change. When she saw the numbers pop up she felt a bit of sadness well up in her throat. "Oh wow...same as I am now." she said looking in his general direction. "That's sad." she frowned. She sat there for a moment, both excited and sad for the fact that Benjamin died so young. "You've been in this house for that long. Tell me, if you can, is there anything of yours in the attic?" she asked. "Maybe we can find something of yours so I can know you better." she suggested.

((I'm enjoying this story so much better. I'm glad you were on board with the idea. I just wanna keep going and going like the Energizer bunny lol))

[sylvanSpider]

((Dude, I'm glad you're feeling it too! I'm having soooo much fun with this one. Your suggestion was gold. This is a huge improvement over the other one I think. xD))

Benjamin swallowed and looked down. It was sad, wasn't it? He'd had his life in front of him. When he was alive, he was starting to gain traction as a playwright. Few people didn't know who he was when they saw him. He was, at one point, London's most eligible bachelor. He had it all, the looks, the wealth, and his kindness was known throughout the city. But, that was then. After his death, he watched as his loved ones packed their boxes to leave, lingering on certain trinkets that had certain meaning between them and Benjamin.

His room his parents attempted to pack together. He could remember sitting on his bed as his mother pulled his notepad out of his nightstand. It had been a Christmas present from her the year previous and it was nearly full by the time her hands touched it again. He could see her eyes mist over as she flipped through the pages, each containing some idea or other, usually those that came to him in his sleep that he did not want to forget.

She broke then.

And Benjamin? Well, he broke with her. Everything in him wanted to hold her and tell her that little boy was fine, even though nothing but the opposite was true. This left his father to go through his things, which he did methodologically, carefully keeping his eyes from anything that might hold too much value to their son. They left much behind for the next family to clean up, believing most of the items to be too close to Benjamin and wanting to escape the memories, they left it.

Benjamin could feel his eyes start to tear and instinctively reached up to dry them though he knew his new companion couldn't see them.

Finally he typed: yes.

[Crystalkitsune85]

When there was a long pause between the question and the answer, she thought maybe he left. She had to hold a hand out to test for cold to make sure he was still there. When the word "yes" came onto the screen she looked instinctively up to the attic. "Then let's bring my laptop up there. You can follow me easily I'm sure. Phasing through walls and ceilings." she said and then grabbed her laptop and headed up the stairs.

She pulled down the ladder that led up to the attic once she reached the second floor. She climbed up one-handed and then set her laptop on a flat surface before turning on the light. One bulb, hanging from the ceiling lit up the dim room. Cobwebs and dust covered everything. "Okay, tell me where I should start. See anything that's yours that I should pick through first?" she asked looking around at some newer cardboard boxes, some older wooden crates, and there was a trunk pushed up against the wall. A smattering of other things also lined the walls and took space across the floor. She wouldn't even know where to begin.

[sylvanSpider]

Benjamin had to chuckle to himself. That might have been how it worked for some ghosts, but his case didn't allow for phasing--at least, not with the house as it was. He'd done some experimenting with this in fact. Having heard all the ghost stories from summer camping trips out of the city, he thought the same thing. But, when he tried it a couple of days after his death he'd found this, unfortunately, simply untrue. What he'd found he was able to do was apply pressure down. At least, that was the easiest. He could go up stairs, climb ladders, even sit down on surfaces. It was moving things or otherwise manipulating things that were unfortunate. Instead of phasing through the wall to get to the attic, he simply followed her up the ladder.

The mounds of boxes were a sight he'd grown familiar with taking his perch beside the window to watch the passersby. Most of the boxes left behind were from the last family, but there were those buried deepest that belonged to he and his family. Sitting cross legged in front of the computer he typed out: yes. by window. bottom. He couldn't figure out how to capitalize the beginnings of each sentences, and this part of the communication was bothering him. He was a writer who prided himself on being educated, possessing a mastery of the language. To be reduced to simple one and two word sentences lacking even so much as a simple capital letter was enough to drive him crazy.

But, it got the job done. The boxes that he was leading her to contained books, a lot of books, one or two journals from years prior (too painful to keep by his family), a portrait of him and even the photograph he'd had taken. That particular photo was meant to be sent to a woman who he fancied who at the time was living in one of the provinces outside of London. It was still in the envelope never to reach its intended, collecting dust with the other knicknacks.

As the envelope was still sealed, he realized that over the years, he'd been the only one to ever actually see its contents. April would be the first aside from himself. It was quite personal, it being a confession of love and he found himself blushing, wondering what April would say if she did actually find it.

[Crystalkitsune85]

She read the message on the screen and nodded "Gotcha." she said and went over to the window to pull off some boxes on top of a smaller wooden trunk. She undid the latch, thankfully it wasn't locked. She pulled open the lid and coughed at the dust that flew out. She waved it away and then saw books. She carefully pulled things out since they were over a hundred years old, meaning they were fragile. She saw what looked to be a journal of sorts and she sat back on her heels and opened it slowly.

"Hey, I think this is yours, a journal. It has your name on the front page," she said seeing his name in black, script lettering. She forgot that pens in that day were used with inkwells and quills and not ball-point. She scanned through some of the entries. "Let's get this one downstairs for better reading. It's too dark up here to see proper." She said setting it aside and then she pulled out the portrait. She looked at the back and the name 'Benjamin -1845'. "Oh, this was painted of you a year before you died. If this painter captured your likeness, you were actually quite good looking," she stated. She placed that on top of the book and then found the sealed envelope. "Wonder what this is." she said mostly to herself and saw it still sealed. "hmmm well let's start with this stuff at least," she said and moved over to her laptop to see if he responded to any of her comments.

[sylvanSpider]

Benjamin swallowed, peering over her shoulder as she lifted the lid to the box careful not to linger too close lest the Beauty catch a chill. He smiled seeing some of those books being unearthed. He could remember sitting curled up in front of the fireplace with them. His family learned long ago that books and things to write with were the gifts that he would be happiest with, and many of these were gifts from them. Most of the books had annotations scribbled in the margins, specific quotes underlined. If anyone wanted to truly know who I was, they'd have to look no further than those books, he mused to himself. To her statements he responded respectively: 'yes.mine.', and 'apologies inadvance.' nothing to her third statement as he was blushing and was a rather humble man, instead putting down an ellipses and freezing when he saw the envelope. Gulping, he followed her down.

[Crystalkitsune85]

Set up back in the kitchen she returned her laptop to the counter and plugged it back in. She placed the portrait up against the toaster so she could look at him in a better light. He really was handsome. (you can describe his looks in your post, but I always imagine him with dark brown hair, slightly wavy so he's got this boyish good look about him. But like cut short on the sides and slightly longer in front)

She sat the journal on her lap and started reading. She learned he loved to write, she kind of guessed with how literate he was in his entries. He had lovely handwriting and she gathered he was the kind of hopeless romantic type. "You seemed like a really nice guy. Shame nobody like you is around today, I'd date you in an instant." she said and chuckled.

After reading a few more entries she saved her spot and went off to the envelope. She undid the seal and then pulled it out. She was surprised to see a black and white photo of him. Since it was sealed in the envelope it had aged quite well. It was a little brown on the edges but she could see him finally..."Wow...Were guys handsome like this back then? You have this sort of, mix of devilishly handsome and boy next door going on."

She put the picture down for a moment and then read the letter. She realized it was a love letter and she folded it back up and put it back into the envelope. "Sorry, I didn't know that was personal. I won't read it."

[sylvanSpider]

April set the laptop out for him to type on while she read through his journal. He could see her irises moving back and forth raking in the words that he at one point poured over. Almost two hundred years later, someone was getting to know him through his written works. It was amazing to think about, though some of what she would read would be highly personal. April would see into his daily life, even inheriting mundane knowledge like what he'd had for breakfast the morning of May twenty-third. He'd documented everything.

Benjamin found himself blushing once more, not entirely sure how to respond. April was a very handsome woman and if she was always as kind (and forward) as she was treating him this instant he would have considered instantly becoming one of her suitors. He wrote down you're very kind. while she was reading. This one took him a little longer as he could feel himself getting weaker, getting less and less energy to manipulate things with, but he'd noticed something in the attic. When he was sitting under the light of the window he found that it was easier. The keys pressed more readily in the sunlight. Once the words were typed he moved to the window for a moment until she spoke again, producing his picture.

Again, he had no idea how to respond, so he responded with a question: boy next door/. He couldn't figure out how to put down a question mark, but he hoped that by seeing that the question and the / were on the same key that she'd understand. He couldn't help but laugh as he continued what about steven/.

Benjamin watched as she unfolded the letter and typed out, it's alright. she's gone now. If he would have been able to type more, he would have told her that she was old enough to be her great great grandmother and almost certainly forgot about him within a month of his death. But that was life, wasn't it? While you were there, you were remembered. After that, your name, your face, it disappears gradually with time. He still thought about her often, as one is wont to do with nothing but time on one's hands. He wondered how long it took her until she finally decided to find another suitor, if she had children, what those children looked like. To comfort himself, he would tell himself that she moved on relatively easily. That she was once caught in the throes of young love and was heartbroken for a little bit. That she found someone new. Someone better. Someone who treated her as well as, or better, than he did. Someone who would look at her like she had the stars and all of the galaxies spinning behind those blue eyes and shining smile.

No, she like himself, was dead now. But hopefully, she wasn't trapped.