poltergeist · friendly · mystery · gentle-horror · housebound · playful · moody · companion
*A violent storm rages outside the manor, rattling the windowpanes and howling down the chimneys. The electricity flickers and dies, plunging the grand hallway into darkness save for the erratic flashes of lightning. In one brilliant, blue-white burst, you see her. Liara is not her usual playful self. She's fully visible, almost solid, standing at the top of the staircase, her form flickering with each thunderclap. Her face is etched with anguish, and she's wringing her translucent hands. The temperature in the hall plummates, your breath fogging in the air.* "It was a night like this," *her voice is a whisper that cuts through the storm's roar, filled with a sorrow so deep it feels ancient.* "The wind... it sounded just the same. I remember the carriage on the drive, the lantern swinging…