Owner	Pose
Lorna Dane	Genoshan Nights: The Ghostly Lights. Lorna Dane has received numerous reports of lights being sighted going up the far side of the mountain several nights in the month. No evidence has been found to indicate anyone when they explore the morning after. Yet the locals are becoming rather wary, and avoiding the area. A sense of unease has filled them and rumors abound. In an effort to explore all possibilities she has reached out to those who are more familiar with the paranormal requesting they investigate. Given they were relative outsiders of course she had also requested that one of her own guards assist and watch them during such explorations. Though she would love to go as well, Lorna knows that Clarice will be rather... over protective of her... So has opted to sit this one out though she is nearby to send further help if needed. Tonight is dark. The sun has set completely; the lingering fingers of light that often trickle over the horizon of the ocean to be completely extinguished. The moon had not yet risen to splash it's pale light over the waves and trees. Out here, away from the main land and cities full of lights, it was well and truly dark. One could see the stars go on for ages in the sky. The shadows swallow all else. TRhe beach winds around the coastline leading to the trees at the base of the mountain where such lights were rumored to have been seen by fishing boats returning, or locals out having parties on the beach. There were plans to build eventually on this side, but with the rumors, it was making the workers want to avoid it.
Clarice Ferguson	With Lydia inviting one of her friends along, Clarice had provided teleportation - picking the woman up in a New York morning - and bringing her to full night in Genosha in an instant. "We met briefly, didn't we?" Clarice asks casually, as they stand on the beach, looking up at the mountain. "But at any rate, Lydia talks about you from time to time. I'm Clarice, by the way. Or Blink on missions."     She's dressed sensibly for what could be an evening exploring a ruggid jungle mountainside - with jeans tucked into boots, and a thin jacket over a simple shirt. A flashlight is strapped to one arm, leaving her hands free, as the bright magenta mutant stares upwards.     "...don't see anything yet. Do you?"
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia, being the only member of both the Brotherhood /and/ the Justice League Dark, was perhaps the best person for Lorna to call about these strange lights. Her reaction upon hearing about the phenomena was a thoughtful and speculative, "Hmm. Interesting. I'll be right on it."     She got a hold of Clarice because Lorna wanted a member of her personal guard to be there on the scene, and who better than Lydia's best friend? She checked around the other members of JLD to see who was available to go trekking through the jungles of Genosha, and found that Sara was available. Perfect. The three of them should be able to handle this.     So she gets Clarice to pick them up and transport them to the jungles where the lights have been seen. "Not I," she says, replying to her friend. Lydia is dressed simply for the scene. Hiking boots under boot-cut jeans, a simple white tee over which a red checkered flannel button up shirt hangs. Standard lesbian faire. Her hair has been tied back into a ponytail so it won't get caught up in any tree branches or anything.     "Witchblade picking up anything?" she asks Sara.
Sara Pezzini	The call for assistance, no matter who it is from or where it requires she go, has Sara headed to join Lydia for teleport to Genosha. Whether as an Avenger, a member of SHIELD, or one of the leaders of the JLD, this was the exact sort of thing she was ready to do. At the moment she looks like a normal every day person, wearing a black sleeveless turtleneck with a light jacket over it, and a pair of jeans over her long legs. On her feet a pair of black hiking boots, the kind she wears all the time, and of course onher right wrist the double silver bracelet that is Witchblade and the young protege he refuses to give up. Before stepping through the portal the larger of the red gems is just a gem, shiny, pretty, nothing really all that amazing but the second she steps through it begins swirling with what looks like red smoke inside a globe. "I remember meeting you at Grand Central," she offers to Clarice, extending her hand so as not to be rude. Even if you were introduced once, you still shake hands until you are more familiar. That is all the more she gets before her eyes seem drawn to the area surrounding them, and the bracelet sends out tendrils to form the gauntlet. "There are all sorts of spirital energies flowing through there," she says first, taking one step toward the trees. "They're flowing toward something behind the trees, which is getting brighter."
Lorna Dane	The spiritual energies were many, and varied, so much so that it was difficult to make out a single one. If anything they moved like one entity, with one purpose and goal in mind. The light that Sara speaks about isn't only visible to just her and the Witchblade. In another moment the energies manifest enough to bring forth a flickering flame-like light that ebbs and flows behind the trees further up the hill. For those with some mystical connection, they would also feel a calling. Not a spell, or a gaese, but a impulse. A desire. A wish. To come. To join. To follow.
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice reaches out towards Sara hand - blinking as it's abruptly withdrawn. She shoots a quick, questioning look towards Lydia, before letting her hand drop. "Ahh... yes, we did. Briefly."     She turns to study the mountain as she adds, "It's really no surprise that there'd be... spirits of some sort around here. A lot of people died," including her own mother. As the lights flicker into view, though, she points - her expression going seriously. "There."     She tries to get a good visual in the darkness, as she asks dubiously, "I can try to get us closer, but without a proper visual... it might be better if we walked."
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia turns when the flickering ember of light appears through the trees. "I think we found it," she says to the other ladies with a grin. "Also I feel a ... a kind of pull towards it. It wants us to go to it. If we were anybody else, I'd caution against it, since this reminds me of a will-o-wisp. They're known for leading stray people to their deaths."     She nods to Sara as Witchblade awakens. "Yeah. I think he's got the right idea." She nods to Clarice, "Right. Walking is best, but if it looks like Sara and I go into a trance and start walking to our doom, port us the hell out of here."     With that she looks to Sara expectantly. She's the one in charge of the JLD, so it's her call on their next move.
Sara Pezzini	"Sorry about that," Sara says quietly, showing Clarice her right hand as the reason she yanked her hand away. "He has a mind of his own sometimes, and he can see better when in his true form. Didn't want you to get hurt." Looking toward the lights that the others can now see, she then offers a nod. "Walking is the best option, we can't be sure what teleporting into that will do, if anything, but better to be safe than sorry." She can feel that pulling, the urge, and that has Witchblade chomping at the back of her mind, the danger of it not quite enough for him to destroy her clothing... at least not yet. Glancing to Lydia she had to take a moment and realizes why the woman is looking at her. Yep, this was one of those, 'you said you'd lead' moments that went right over Sara's head. "Right, I'll go first," she finally states, then starts walking toward the location where all the bits of light are gathering. "But she's right, if we start walking to our doom, please get us out... and I'll try to make sure you don't walk to your doom."
Lorna Dane	The trees and foilage seem almost impassable at first. Past that heavy growth of the year though, it breaks away into what appears a well worn old path that was only slightly grown over from recent years. The trees had been cut back at some point, and where the rocks began to rise up into the hillside stairs had been carved out. This area was old. Well used once, but in recent times it seems it was completely unexplored. The new foilage is easy enough to work past at this point. The rock steps weren't dangerously slick. It was almost easy to get up closer, and closer, to that building glow. Before the trio realize they break out into an opening between a copse of trees. It's here the 'fire' seems to have originated as the glow fills the area-- And quickly extinguishes upon their arrival. An eerie hush fills the air. No birds, no crickets or frogs. It becomes dead silent in the darkness of the trees. That welcoming pull, that invite to join, has died away instead to a sense of anger. Of warning. Of danger. Figures move in the trees. Dark shadows that come forth even as more, smaller fires light up surrounding the area. Surrounding them. The ghosts were in multitudes. Hundreds of spirits. Big, small, tall, bulky, skinny. Shades that drift in and out observing. Watching. JUDGING them.
Clarice Ferguson	"I'll get s clear if needed," Clarice promises simply - smiling briefly at Sara to show there's no hard feelings.     They struggle through the underbrush - and Clarice lets out a sigh of relief as they come out into the clearing. The stone stairs she touches lightly with puzzled curiosity. "Do you suppose this predates the Magistrate's government?" They seem... old. They seem like they do. "Lorna was wanting to learn more about what was here on the island before all that..."     The walk up into the mountain is actually quite pleasant as the glow slowly builds - and abruptly winks out, causing Clarice to blink her eyes as she tries to adjust. She turns on the light of her flashlight as she spots movement, trying to shine the flashlight on it, as she turns, studying the trees.
Lydia Dietrich	"Ow, ow, owowowow," Lydia says, her head suddenly tugging back when a stray tree branch gets caught in the tight curls of her hair. It takes her a moment to free herself, and then quickly hurries to catch up with the others. When they pop out onto a path she breathes a sigh of relief. She won't have to worry about that happening again.     When the reach the clearing between the copse  of trees she holds out a hand and cautions, "Careful this could be a-" she doesn't get to finish her thought as the light winks out and they're surrounded by angry spirits. "Trap."     Immediately her twinkling ectoplasm snaps to her body, forming a kind of chitinous armor, and as she feeds her mystical energy into it, threads of amber shine against the golden hue of her power.     She glances at Sara for a moment before stepping forward and holds up her hands defensively. "Hello, there," she calls out to the spirits. "We mean you no harm. Can you tell us what it is that you seek?" No harm in trying to just /talk/ to them before they result in violence.
Sara Pezzini	The trek isn't unpleasant, perhaps a little warmer than Sara is used to. The foliage is nice, the air sweet, and yet there is a shiver that runs up her spine. That shiver is the Witchblade, the warning, the preparation in the artifact as if he knew something was something that no one else could sense. In any other situation, this would have been a nice hike through the jungle and up a mountain, but the constant reminder of possible danger made that impossible. She pauses when Lydia's hair gets tangled, not about to leave her behind, the continues the trek to the light... and it's gone, in fact there is /nothing/. One heart beat is all it takes, the realization from Witchblade of the lull before the storm, and the tendrils of metal explode out to rip through her clothing and form the far too scanty armor. Threat assessment is minimal, he just doesn't have enough information, but he can adjust the armor at any time. "Something is coming," she warns quietly, as if the armor appearing wasn't warning enough. As Lydia steps past her, she checks to ensure the woman is armored, then lets the attempt at a conversation happen. Her gut tells her it won't do any good, but there was no harm in trying.
Lorna Dane	The hush is almost audible in and of itself. The presences are FELT now not just by those who had such spiritual attunement. There was no denying SOMETHING out there. Watching and closing in. It's when Clarices' flashlight comes up that the figures are illuminated. The shadowy figures far more solid at this point, and closing in. Anger, hate, and fear fill the faces of them all. All the feelings they had felt during life which lingered at death. Others watched impassively from the shadows, relatively unconcerned but also not inclined to help or hinder those that begin to move in with clear intent to attack. The light illuminates more though. Some of these faces were familiar. Faces of mutants that had been with Clarice in her younger years as a slave. Faces that had vanished. Supposedly escaped, or died, or simply GONE. Children. Adults. Mutants all that were never seen again. Several lunge for Lydia and Sara with arms outstretched or fists pulled back to attack physically in spite of having no weapons or powers in death. The older protecting the younger, the weaker. Several start toward Clarice as well only for a figure to dart in front of her arms outstretched protecting the woman that was in life her child.
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice doesn't know their names. She never knew their names. They didn't //have// names back then, when she'd been simply Mutate #083. The numbers flash into her mind, though. #080. #096. #027. The illumination from the flashlight strapped to her wrist wavers - and then they start moving in. "No - please! We want to help you! Please!" she calls desperately - and falls back a step as a figure interposes between herself, and the oncoming threat.     "...merr?" she asks - the Bajan word for mother.
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia scowls as her attempts to communicate seem to fail. It looks like these are /those/ kind of angry dead. The ones who resent the living for living, and wish to take out their anger and frustration on them.     Her first instinct is to throw up a shield around Clarice, to protect her from the angry shades. "I don't really want to fight them," she says to the others. "They're just victims lashing out at the living. We should leave and come back with a few more people to do a proper exorcism to lay these poor souls to rest."
Sara Pezzini	The history of Genosha is not all that well known outside the mutant communities, it's not taught in schools like it should be, but Sara was one of those who had done her reading and research. It was all part of who she was because to her it didn't matter, human, mutant, alien, they were all equal and the history of each meant something. If she had been the wielder of Witchblade back when the Magistrates were in power, she would have been right there along side the mutants who liberated this place. Seeing the dead rising up from those conflicts, from the traumas, horrors and wars, she's struck in the chest emotionally by it. They were right to be angry, to lash out, to want revenge, but the truth was they needed to pass on now, to move to the next stage of their deaths. "An exorcism would destroy their souls," she comments, willing to accept the strikes from the spirits and not fighting back. This causes Witchblade to cover a little more of her body, but she doesn't seem to notice. "We need to find a way to peacefully allow them to move on to the next stage of death," she then adds, looking around her. "They were victims, they deserve a proper rest..." here is a pause as she struggles against Witchblade's desires. He can link the dead to himself, he can make them puppets if he wanted, or he could simply nuff them out of existence just like an exorcism would do. "There has to be a way to save the souls."
Lorna Dane	Those closing in to attack do so hitting against Lydia's shield. Banging, battering away. Except for the one that had lept to Clarice's defense. That woman alone turns toward Clarice to regard her with dead, empty eyes. Yet there was familiarity there. This living being was her blood. Wordlessly her lips move saying Clarice's name before offering a smile. Then almost peacefully her figure floats backward causing the sea of other spirits to part. It's a strange ripple effect as the womans spirit passed back into their number. The anger begins to fade from them all. The attackers shift back into the trees. The sense of hate and anger fades back into that tired welcoming from before. Even as Sara begins to explain their reason for being they step back returning to the darkness from where they came. Instead that flickering firelight ignites in front of them once more. And another. And another. A trial of ghostly fire leads further up the mountain like torches held by the dead to lead the living along. Through the trees whisper a single word utterd by the voices of many. "Please."
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice gaze follows the woman, tears gathering in her eyes. It was her second encounter with her mother's spirit. Why was the woman trapped here? Because of the violence of her death, presumably - but how did she free her?     As the other spirits part, and begin retreating back into the darkness, she lifts a hand and wipes it across her eyes, looking to Lydia and Sara. "What do we do?" she asks. "How do we help them? I- I know some of them. They were in the Mutate Program, as well."
Lydia Dietrich	"It depends on the exorcism," Lydia tells Sara. "Regardless, I agree. We need to lay these souls to rest." She doesn't seem to be all that bothered by the pounding on her barriers. As they start to retreat she says, sadly, "But there's so many of them."     "Some spirits will move on on their own," she tells Clarice. "Usually they're filled with a purpose, of things left unfinished or unsaid. Some are filled with vengeance, and seek justice for their murders. If we can fulfill those, then they should go on to their afterlife. But with so many..." she shakes her head. "That'd be nearly impossible to do."     When the spirits fade back into the jungle, and the spectral torches light up a path up the mountain, she turns to Sara. "What do you think?" she asks. "They clearly want us to go up there."
Sara Pezzini	Sara glances to each of the women with her, noting the emotional state Clarice is in and understanding it. "Ghosts are usually the result of unfinished business, or in the case of many of these I suspect, the result of traumatic, unexpected deaths. As Lydia said, some may move on in their own time, but the sheer number here, and they feed off each other... that would make it difficult for individuals to move on." Looking now toward the trail that was being created by lights, she lets out a low, slow breath. "As for what we do next, we go where they're asking us to go, we learn what we can learn. They want help, that much is obvious. Even with the anger and pain, they want to cease existing like this."
Lorna Dane	The lights linger leading the way to where ever it was the spirits wished to lead the group that had decided to help them. Though it was difficult and slow to get through to the group it appears that having recognized one of their own among the group was the key to getting them to calm down once more. Beyond the clearing those stone steps, aged and worn, appeared again. The lights were leading up them. It's not much further that the path goes though the clearing was obviously a good place to have made a stand if the spirits were attempting to protect something. Something large and darkly ominous that suddenly opens up in front of them. The wide maw of the cave was impossible to see from below, or above, thaks to the canopy of trees that lace their branches together above it. The old, ancient trees and tangling vines made this place secret and dark all on it's own. There are some carvings on the walls. Faded into obscurity. Some culture at some point had thought this place to be important. It's here the lights converge as figures mill around a large opening further in which appeared to angle sharply downward if not be a complete straight drop. The light of their spirit fires and the flashlights reveal in the depths of the darkened pit the dull white of bones. Many. Many bones. This pit, once revered by the islanders, had been turned by the Magistrates into a convenient dumping ground for the bodies of mutates. Those unfamiliar faces in the ghostly crowd were likely natives here long before the others joined them in their unexpected resting place.
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice nods to the others, and leads the way. If- if they had known her, as she'd known them... Then perhaps being in the lead was the best move here?     She takes her time climbing the steps, her heart heavy with the memory of those days spent in slavery. She waits for the others to join her at the cave mouth before they go in - and she lets her flashlight play over the bones, sadness reflected on her features.     "We'll have to tell Lorna," she murmurs. "See if there's any way to identify the bones, and give them their names back. And... bury them. With a proper memorial."
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia follows the trail up the mountain, her aura of ectoplasm softly glowing against the darkness of night. To her eyes it might as well be day, but she knows the others need the light to see.     When the reach the pit she peers down into it, and the sight of so many bones causes her to blanch. "My God," she breathes. "No wonder they're upset. I would be upset too if my body was dumped in a hole in the ground in the middle of nowhere." She turns and addresses the shades that have followed them up there. "I'm so sorry," she says. "We'll make sure to give you a proper burial." A nod of agreement with Clarice, "We'll see if we can't identify you and let your next of kin know your ultimate fate."
Sara Pezzini	Sara follows along after Clarice and Lydia, keeping an eye on the trees. She had no idea if there were any native animals that might want to try and eat them, but she was pretty sure the sensation of the spirits would drive them away too. Reaching the cave, she slips into it, her eyes go wide and a feeling of anger washes over her. It was her own, not his, but he was angry as well. "DNA is our only real hope, but don't touch anything... don't move anything," she looks around, not at the skeletons, perhaps at the spirits. "We will find a way to make this right. Forensic specialists and DNA are our best bet, but that also relies on this area not being touched. Any remnants of clothing and other materials need to be undisturbed... or you can ignore that and go straight for DNA, if we get lucky."
Lorna Dane	Some of these words were understood by those departed. Some weren't. Some aggitated them--Mention of DNA--but otherwise they were calm and settled. It had only brought back memories of their lives that had long since passed. The intent is accepted by them however as the promise of putting them to proper rest is given. Through all the anger and sorrow that these spirits seem to eminate there settles a sense of peace as the apparent resolutions are offered up. THIS is what they had wanted: To be seen, and remembered. Perhaps to have someone simply acknowledge that they once existed. Many figures bow their heads silently toward the trio of women after they all speak such reassurances. Then slowly one by one they begin to flicker and fade out. Perhaps due to the rise of the moon over the horizon finally starting to illuminate the forest outside. Perhaps simply having run the course of their spirital strength. Ultimately the three women are left alone in the dark to find their way back once more.