Chris begins to wake up. rocks and dirt begins to move near the warriors..A Death Company shoulder plate sticks out from the rubble and then a helmet. Chris sits up and groans a bit. He stands up and looks around.he turns to the warriors his claws still engaged. he retracts them and pulls off his helmet. His right ear hanging slightly and trickling blood. Chris looks at everyone for a moment and begins to look confused..

" Can anyone tell me what happened? i have been unconcious for quite a while. "

Chris walks up to the others and stands a little bit behind them all. he looks around at the battle field..Half back to normal half destroyed. he spots the 2 statues and other things and frowns a bit..

" Whats going on? "

(ooc: ::winks at Poiupp:: Heh...you'll get this better than anyone here...)

Cerularius, who was already behind Fei, watches in awe as the two restore the beauty of the Umbra. "Whew..." He murmurs, then turns back to Fei.

"So, in essence, she's sort of like your girlfriend? I wish I had that kind of feelings for mine...she's quite possessive, actually, and if it weren't for her threats of tearing out my liver if I ever leave, I might actually let the thought pass through my head..."

Cat snickers, and gives Fei's ear another lick, then turns blue, "Heh heh...you think his renindition of her is bad, listen to this-"

"Cat!" Cerularius glares, "She's MY girlfriend and I'LL tell it! Right, well since you haven't protested, or had a chance to," Here he winks, "I'll tell you the story."

"Nothing keeps a relationship on its toes so much as lively debate. Fortunate, then, that my girlfriend Margret and I agree on absolutely nothing. At all."

"Combine utter, polar disagreement on everything, ever, with the fact that I am a text book Only Child, and she is a violent psychopath, and we're warming up."

"Then factor in my being English while she is German, which not only makes each one of us personally and absolutely responsible for the history, and the social and cultural mores of our respective countries, but also opens up a whole field of sub-arguments grounded in grammatical and semantic disputes and, well, just try saying anything and walking away."

"We have shower issues. Today I had a shower and she's put out some kind of weird cosmetic soap."

"I flinch at the idea of guessing how much this soap must have cost because it's utterly rubbish, which is usually a good indication of knee-buckling expense (Cotton flannel - 50p, Skin-lacerating wad woven from dried bark and nasal hair by Amazonian tribeswomen who will use whatever money they make from the sale to buy cotton flannels - £12.50)."

"This soap did not wash, but instead covered me in an iridescent film of grease - and, sadly, I'd made a last minute change of plans and decided to spend today sitting in front of the TV rather than swimming The Channel. Tch - irony, eh?"

"Anyway, I had to have another wash to remove this oleaginous soap from me. This was the Third Thing. I'll come to the Second Thing in a moment, but the First Thing is the ferocity of our shower."

"British showers are risible, this is a fact. Most people's noses run faster than the average British shower and one of Margret's longest held desires has been to get a shower like those in Germany."

"Thus, she got one fitted when we moved to the new house here and it is, indeed, German. Now, as much as I'm against the feebleness of British showers, I must ask if it's entirely necessary that a shower should hurt?

"This thing has a setting called 'massage' and it's not a massage. A massage involves relaxation, the soft, enquiring hands of a 22-year-old Scandinavian woman, and possibly an exchange of cash."

"The setting on this shower ought more accurately to be labelled 'Jumped By Thugs', you could mount the thing on top of a truck and use it to crush riots. This is all the more horrific when we approach the Second Thing. Because not only does Margret leave our shower set to maim, she also leaves it on cold."

"Margret has cold showers first thing in the morning. How unsurprising is that? In fact, I could have not told you all this and merely said 'Margret has cold showers first thing in the morning.' and everyone reading would have been able to infer the rest."

"I, it won't surprise you to learn, don't like mornings to begin with, and definitely don't want to find a cold shower lurking anywhere in them."

"Today, then, I stumbled sleepy-eyed into the shower, wrenched it on, and was immediately hit by a roar of icy water travelling at twelve-hundred miles an hour."

"My 'O'-eyed, bared-teeth face is going to be stuck like this for a week. Then, once I'd scrambled the settings back to within human limits, I got to cover myself in grease.
Words will be exchanged."

He sighs, then smiles a bit, "I don't suppose Tamrissa does anything of the sort to you, eh?"

Shenba looks away as Soul Talks to him. She gets up and wipes her tears away. She walks behind Soul and stands a fair bit from the others.

" ....Sorry for leaving...I'm still upset "

The halls and chambers still rumble and groan as the others enter the palace. Details are still being added all around them as they walk. As Fei directs the phantoms to get food and tables, all of the other spirits begin to come alive. They peer out through the walls, float down from the ceilings, and draw nearer and nearer to the tired, wounded guests.
When the phantoms return, the other ghosts flee. Two tables are set down, smooth ebony-stained wooden tables. The food simply appears out of invisible hands. Meats, steaming vegetables, sweet fruits and heady wines. Chairs appear also, transparent hands pulling them out to ready them for the guests…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Meanwhile, an angry, tired, grieving Tamrissa slams the door of the large chamber she has claimed for herself. She frowns at the darkness of the room, it reminding her of her chamber that she held when Naraka had been a handsome, friendly guest.

“Lights, now!” she yells at the walls.

The candles flicker into bright flames and the fireplace alights on its own. Afterwards, the chamber grows deathly still. She brings her fingertips to her lips and walks slowly towards the bed, perching on its edge. Her eyes grow wide as she brings back the memories of the past few months. The darkness, the abuse and the man’s evil voice.

“My sweet,” she mumbles to herself, tears held back in her dulled eyes.

The softest touch makes her turn. A smiling young woman’s face stares back at her. It is pale though, translucent and pale. She is standing in the middle of the bed, her legs and hips swallowed by the burgundy silken sheets and fluffed mattress. She is standing in the center of the bed as if she were standing on the floor below the bed. Her hands reach out and slowly pull Tamrissa’s curls up on top of her head.

“Go away,” Tam frowns at her.

She shakes her head and the door at the other end of the room swings open softly. The bath lies beyond, steaming water already running into the porcelain tub.

“I don’t need or want a bath. Go away,” she slaps at the ghostly hands, succeeding in only knocking her hair free.

The spirit giggles silently, her hand pulling a sticky bloodied curl out to the side from Tam’s head.

“Alright, I need a bath, then will you leave me alone?”

She only smiles and waits for the golden-haired woman to stand. When she does, the ghost floats into the bath chamber.

“I don’t need company.”

Tam frowns again and follows her. She hesitates at the edge of the tub, glancing at the spirit staring at her.

“This will take some getting used to…constant eyes watching me.”

The ghost giggles again and spins around, facing away from her.

“Oh that helps,” she smirks as she fills her voice with slight sarcasm.

Stripping off the ripped and blood-covered white gown, she eases into the tub as quickly as possible. Her fingers find the edges and she slips into the water, a sigh hissing out of her. She closes her eyes for a moment and then leans back. The ghostly figure flows over to her, a bath sheet over her insubstantial arm.

“Mmm. Just leave it there. I would like some time alone, my friend,” she smiles up at the ghost, who seems very pleased with herself at getting Tam to listen to her.

The woman nods and the bath sheet is left on a nearby chair before she disappears through a wall, the door shutting with her passage through the wall next to it.
Tamrissa breathes in, hands swirling the water. With another deep breath, she slides down into and under the water, curls following her. Bubbles wriggle and shake their way to the surface, making small noises as they pop into the air. The memories and visions start behind those closed eyes beneath the water...