For Damien it really was just another day like any other, singularity or not. Getting up out of bed, he stretched and looked out the window. In the distance he could see the edge of the singularity as it crept towards him. As it stood, he had at least another week before he had to vacate the hotel he had been staying at. He truly was living out of a suitcase, or two as the case was. From where he stood, he didn't see anyone ont he streets, but it had been like that for most of the time lately. Aside from the occasional whitesuits that had all the bearing of the FBI to the few people in jumpsuits cruising around on high-tech hoverboards, he hadn't seen anyone else in his stretch.
In fact this entire ordeal, because that really was what it was, had caught him by surprise. When he had been there before, nobody had said ANYTHING about ghosts. Inf act, everyone seemed perfectly content, as if nothing ever happened out of the ordinary. But even then, they didn't treat ghosts as ordinary. Thinking about it made Damien's head hurt. Turning to look at the provided alarm clock, he was glad to see that the room still had power.
Sitting back down on the bed, he grabbed his laptop from where it was charging and opened it, gave it the time to boot up, and then started checking the news, glad to see that the wireless was still functional for now. As had been the case since it all started, there was nothing at all about this. Which meant there was definitely a government conspiracy, especially with the whitesuits on the streets.
This couldn't have come at a worse time. He had just signed the lease for the shop when the singularity exploded in the intersection closest to him. He didn't even remember what happened next. There were flashes of memory. Of being blasted through glass. Of picking himself up and off. And then of waking up hiding behind a dumpster with a lantern. How the hell had he even gotten the lantern? When he got out of the alleyway, he could see the singularity down the street. Had he just been hiding in a corner hoping the singularity wouldn't see him?
He really had no clue what was going on. And it only got worse when he got back to the hotel. Everyone wanted to get out, was in the process of getting out. And like typical Americans, everyone wanted to use the elevator. His room was on the seventh floor and the stairs were a bitch to get up. He found himself tkaing a break ont he fourth floor landing, feeling unusually sore and beaten up. Well he had gotten blasted by something. All he really wanted to do was get up there as quickly as possible and maybe take a nap or something. For once he really didn't even want to play a game.
When he snapped back to reality, he realized that he was floating and that the placard by the stairwell exit told him he was on the sixth floor. He didn't want to look down and did his best to keep level witht he placard, blinking to try to rob himself of the obvious illusion. When it didn't go away, he was about to rub his eyes, thinking that might help but as he did, he found them translucent. Sure they could touch his face but he could see through them. What the hell? A sense of dread was growing as he looked down, yelping in terror. His legs were gone and all that was left was a ghostly trail and the cement stairs about a two feet below. Instantly he jerked tot he side, throwing himself against the wall for safety from the fall, only to fall through it and into an empty hotel room, recently emptied.
Standing back up, he had his legs again and brought them each up to his chest kissing them thankfully. He was still translucent and that made things an issue. Try as he might, he couldn't force himself back. Closing his eyes and trying hard not to think about it, he willed himself up to the seventh floor, both surprised and not surprised to find himself in a different room, the fire-escape map on the back of the door confirming he was on the seventh floor.
"Okay...I can float and move through walls. Nothing too out of what I'm used to dealing with."
Of course he had referenced his games; they were the only thing that gave him any sort of reference to this sort of thing. He made to walk through the hotel door only to slam his face into the hard surface, the pain instantly shooting through him and rebounding him to the ground where he sat, rubbing both his nose and ass.
"Oh come on.... I was just doing it," he complained.
Still that was one problem dealt with. He opened the door and made his way down the corridors. This had to be a dream. There was no way he could be doing this. And no way that any of this could be happening. This was stuff that happened in games, not in real life. Finding his own room surprised him and he opened it up to find everything as he had left it. He didn't even care at this point. He flopped down onto the bed and took a nap, thinking it was the best way to actually wake up.
Since then he had discovered that it wasn't a dream, that all this was real, and that he might have been uniquely qualified to have what he did. He could remember every game he had every played and his body could remember everything he had done. Once he had figured out certain thing, he would always be able to do it. Like the floating and phasing. Easy to learn, easy to master, hard as fuck not to pop into random people's rooms when they were still there. Still he was getting the hang of it easily. The ectoplasmic bolts were the most fun. At least that's what he called them. He didn't know what he was, but ghost seemed pretty accurate even though everyone seemed able to see him. Still, he could create and manipulate this ectoplasmic stuff pretty easily.
It made him feel awesome to have a 1:1 Buster Sword replica in his hand or to have Ebony and Ivory ready to draw and once he could do it once, he could always do it. He wouldn't say it was a dream but a fantasy, yeah. Now he had everything he could remember at his fingertips. But even with that, he still had an investment here and the singularity was growing. He didn't trust the government to handle things and who knew what the high-tech hoverboarders were after. But he had no clue what he was doing. Sure he could remember quantum physics but to actually use that? Hah. Like that was ever going to happen - he used a calculator for just about anything.
He kind of wanted to do it himself. To go out on an adventure and fix it all. Make a party and save the world.
