Whispers Beyond

[Abigail Asteria Anderson Rare Rare]

In the dimly lit room of the big house, Abby, moved with purpose. The air was thick with ancient energies as she carefully arranged an array of candles on a polished wooden table, each flame flickering with a spectral glow. The room seemed to respond to her presence, its very essence resonating with the magic she wielded. Shadows danced on the walls, casting an eerie yet comforting atmosphere. Abby's eyes, shimmering like moonlit pools, held a mixture of anticipation and reverence. Her abilities as a necromancer were strong, a connection to the realm beyond life that pulsed in her veins like a whispered secret. As she meticulously set up the candles, Abby's thoughts drifted to her closest companion, Lydia. While Abby's talents allowed her to commune with the spirits of the deceased, Lydia possessed her own unique gift because of her parent. With the room now aglow in a gentle, ethereal light, Abby's fingers tingled with anticipation, eager to join forces with Lydia and bridge the gap between the worlds.

@ Lydia Hawthorne

[Lydia Hawthorne Rare]

Abigail had let Lydia know that she would be up at The Big House today for a seance. Typically she didn't really attend those kinds of things, largely because of everything that had happened back in her hometown. But Abigail was different. She was like Lydia. She understood and didn't find her abilities creepy or weird. She also didn't try to use her abilities to make money off others. She just tried to connect and be her friend. And for that reason, Lydia trusted her implicitly. It included sometimes participating in activities that she typically avoided.

As she entered the appointed room, she saw it all alight with candles. "Did you know that three percent of home fire deaths are caused by unattended candles?" Lydia said by way of greeting. It wasn't a condemnation of the presence of the candles. Because of her mother, and in part her father as well, Lydia tended to view the world through the lens of death. As a result the simplest things reminded her of it. She tended to spout off facts about death in random conversations--though she had learned to curb that a bit since coming to the camp when interacting with others--but with Abby she could be herself.