>You awaken to the sound of a clap of thunder loud enough to shake your old house to its foundation.
>Not too surprising, since it's been storming every night for the last two weeks or so, but still aggravating.
>With a sigh, you roll over and cast an eye over to your antique grandfather clock.
>12 o' Clock.  Midnight.
>Oh well.  At least you don't have to get up early tomorrow. If there's a good side to all this weather, it's the fact that the office has been closing on particularly bad days.
>You start to drift off to sleep again...
>Only to hear something else.
>A quiet, tentative knock at the door.
>You at first figure it's your imagination, then you hear it again, a litle louder this time.
>Who could that be at this time of night, in this kind of storm?
>You climb out of bed and creep to the door groggily.
>When you open it up, you immediately let out a groan of sympathy.
>Standing on your doorstep, soaking wet, is a cat woman.  She stands a few inches taller than you, and her blue-gray fur is dripping.  She's clad in a rather elegant, deep blue gown with black lace trim and a pair of long white gloves.
>Sorrowful blue eyes meet your gaze as she wordlessly pleads to come in.  Without hesitation, you open your door wider.
>With a small frown, she silently enters your home, tracking rainwater behind her.
 
>You lead her to your living room, not minding the trail of wet footprints she's leaving.
>On the way, you turn up the heat a little; that rain is pretty chilly, after all.  She nods appreciatively, still frowning.
>Once you get to the living room, you quickly light your fireplace.  Your guest sits demurely by the roaring fire, expression unreadable.
>The flames are reflected in her blue eyes, to an oddly striking effect.
>You gently place a hand on her shoulder, to which her only reaction is to glace at you silently.
>"I'll go get you a hairdryer.  Be right back."
>She nods briefly, and you rush off.
>You grab the promised hairdryer, and swing by the kitchen to start some hot tea.
>It doesn't look like you'll be sleeping any time soon...
>But you can't help but feel bad for her.
>When you return to the living room, she's still sitting on the floor by the hearth, tail waving slowly.
>You plug in the hairdryer and hand it to her; she takes it and scrutinizes it with another little frown, then turns it on.
>Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to make much headway in drying her off.  At least her fur isn't outright dripping anymore, though.
>She wordlessly hands the device back to you.
 
>"Hm.  Hold on, I'll grab a towel."
>She blinks a few times, then nods before returning to watching the fire with that same unreadable expression.
>You rush off and grab a towel, stopping to pour her a cup of the now-piping hot tea on your way back.
>When you return, you drape the towel over her shoulders and hand her the tea.  She carefully blows on the steaming drink, then takes a cautious sip.
>She frowns slightly, blinking a few times, then blows on it a bit more.
>You sit down next to her, prompting her to glance at you with those blue eyes momentarily before looking back at her drink.
>You break the silence with an introduction and a warm smile.
>"So, I'm Anon.  Nice to meet you.  Do you mind if I ask for your name?"
>Her frown deepens as she stares down into her tea for a few moments.  Eventually, she sets her teacup down, turns towards you, and uses her fingers to make an 'X' over her throat.
>...she's mute.
>"Oh.  Sorry..."
>A tiny, apologetic smile flits across her face, only to give way to the inscrutable, melancholy look from before.
>"So, ah... what are you doing out on a night like this?"
>She gestures to her gown, then stands and mimes dancing for a moment, then sits back down.
>"Oh, a party?"
>She nods before taking another drink of tea.  Again, she frowns before blowing on the hot beverage.
 
>"Hold on one second."
>She nods as you dash off and grab a pen and paper.  When you hand them to her, another little smile crosses her face momentarily.
>She tentatively tests out the pen, then nods as she writes something down.
>'Thank you.  My name is Emily.'
>You smile and gesture to her tea.
>"Well, Emily; would you prefer something less hot?"
>She shakes her head, taking another sip.
>"Well... alright then.  Are you hungry?"
>'No, thank you.'
>Her handwriting is elegant and neat, but it seems to take her a while to write things out.  Perhaps because she takes her time properly forming each individual letter.
>"If you change your mind, let me know.  Mind if I ask where you live?  I could give you a ride home in the morning."
>She frowns deeply, carefully writing her response.
>'I would prefer not to share that.'
>"Are you sure?  I don't mind taking you home..."
>'I will be fine, thank you.'
>"If you insist."
>She nods emphatically before draining the remainder of her tea.
 
>"So, why walk home on a night this stormy?  Couldn't someone have given you a ride?"
>Another frown accompanies her writing.
>'I dislike asking for help.  I arrived at my destination alone, and I enjoy the walk.  I had not anticipated such weather, however.'
>"Oh, I see.  Well, it's rained every day for a while now, so... I'm afraid that's just how it is."
>She shakes her head morosely.
>"Anyway, why my house specifically?"
>'It was on my route home, and your home reminds me of my own house.  You have a very stately residence.'
>You live in a historical district of your town; your house is pretty old, but it's well upkept.  You've grown to love the antique style a good bit.  Reminds you of your grandparents, who lived in a similar house...
>"Thanks, Emily; glad you like it.  Want me to get some dry clothes, or a bathrobe?"
>She stares silently for a moment, blue eyes searching your face.
>'I imagine nothing of yours would fit me.  Though if you happen to have a robe, that will do.'
>You nod and go fetch your bathrobe.  It's the least you can do.
>When you present it to Emily, she begins looking around the room, frowning.
>'Do you have a privacy screen, or anything else I may change behind?'
>"Uh... no, but I can leave the room, if you want."
>She nods, and you leave her be.
>After several minutes, she pokes her head out of the living room and beckons for you.
>Her dress hangs above the fireplace, along with her gloves and a few... other articles of clothing.
>Your robe fits her well enough, albeit it's a bit loose thanks to her lean, lithe figure.
>'Thank you, Anon.'
>"You're welcome."
 
>You smile at her, hoping to coax a happier expression from her.  The faintest of grins crosses her face.
>"...say, Emily.  Are you sure you're not hungry?"
>Her smile fades again as she writes.
>'I am certain, thank you.  There were refreshments at the dance.'
>"Well, if you need anything, or if anything's wrong, you can tell me."
>She smiles again... but it seems bitter.
>'I do not believe I can TELL you anything.  I can, however, write you a message.'
>"...sorry.  I should've picked my words better."
>'You are fine.  My apologies for seeming combatitive.'
>"It's fine, really."
>You glance at the clock, remembering it's after midnight.
>"If you'd like, you could borrow my bed for tonight.  I'll gladly sleep on the couch."
>Another little frown accompanies a flurry of writing.
>'I do not wish to burden you, Anon.'
>"You're not a burden; I promise."
>She looks away for a moment, then reaffixes her gaze on your face, that same sliver of a smile returning.
>'Thank you.  You are a kind host.'
>"I'm happy to help."
 
>Excusing yourself again, you run off to change your bedsheets.  
>You make sure that the new ones are good, clean, and soft.
>You also grab a soft, warm blanket for yourself, as well as a pillow.
>Satisfied, you return to Emily, still sitting by the fire.
>"Okay, I've got the bed ready for you whenever you'd like to turn in."
>She nods.
>'Thank you.  But I believe you will find me rather nocturnal.  My apologies.  I shall attempt to turn in earlier than normal, so as to avoid bothering you.'
>She slowly rises, curtsies, then makes her way past you, leaving damp pawprints behind her.
>When she reaches the end of the hall, she turns and heads off towards your bedroom, casting a smile and a nod your way.
>Satisfied, you chuckle and lay down on the couch.
>It's always nice to help someone in need out.  
>You burrow under your blanket and start to doze off with a contented sigh.
 
>...you awake with a sudden realization:
>How did Emily know where your bedroom is?
>The thought kind of unnerves you, making it hard to sleep.
>...did you tell her and just forget?  
>Wait.
>Maybe she just saw you carrying sheets that way.
>Yeah, that has to be it.  Just as simple as that.
>Satisfied with your answer, you fall back asleep, a tiny twinge of concern still lingering in your mind...
>...you wake up and gasp.
>Blue eyes gaze sorrowfully at you.  It takes a moment for your drowsy mind to remember that they belong to Emily.
>You blink and look up at her frowning face.  She holds an elegantly-penned note up.
>'I could not sleep.  My apologies.  If it is alright with you, I would like to pass the time either in here or another room until I am sufficiently drowsy.'
>"Mm, sure thing... make yourself comfortable."
>She nods, still frowning.
>'Thank you, Anon.'
>She walks away and sits by the fire again, gazing into the flames.
 
>Emily slowly lowers herself into a rather uncomfortable-looking position as she continues to stare into your fireplace.
>You're momentarily concerned, then shake it off, remembering she's a cat.  But...
>You're still worried about her sorrowful attitude.
>You walk over and sit next to her.  Emily glances your way with those melancholy blue eyes.
>"If something's bothering you, you can tell me."
>Her frown deepens as she scans your face warily.  Her sapphire eyes gaze into your very soul, it seems.
>Eventually, she writes a note.
>'It is nothing, truly.  The rain seems to bring out a more somber part of me.  I apologize for burdening you with my demeanor.'
>"You're not a burden; I just want to be here to listen if you want to talk about something."
>Again, she writes, this time with a strained smile.
>'I do not believe I shall be TALKING about anything.  Though I appreciate the sentiment regardless.'
>"Okay then, sorry for my word choice."
>She nods with a tiny, genuine smile, then stares at you silently.
>"...Emily, how did you know where my bedroom is?"
>Her pupils dilate slightly, but she otherwise maintains her minuscule smile.
>The rain suddenly intensifies, banging against your roof harder than ever before.
>'You told me where it is, Anon.'
>...that's right, you did.  It was silly of you to forget that.
>The rain dies back down to its previous strength.  Emily glances upwards.
>'Sounds as if the tempest has no plans of stopping.'
>"Yeah... it'll probably rain all night."
>'Indeed.'
 
>A faint shudder hits you for an unknown reason.  You shake it off and return Emily's little smile.
>"So, when do you usually fall asleep?"
>'It varies, but usually in the wee hours of the morning.'
>"Ah.  Do you work late?"
>She frowns, looking a bit confused.
>'No, I am not employed at the moment.  I did work the night shift at my previous occupation, however.'
>"Been there.  I know that can mess your internal clock up.  ...is there anything you'd like to do to oass the time?  I could put on some music, we could play chess..."
>Emily's smile returns faintly.
>'I would thoroughly enjoy both options.'
>You pull out your phone and open up a classical playlist on Youtube.  It immediately begins with Danse Macabre, and Emily's ears perk up.
>'Oh, my favorite.'
>She slowly rises and begins dancing throughout the room, the haunting music accompanying her elegant moves.  She keeps her eyes closed, a wider, more genuine smile across her face.
>As the melody draws to a close, she performs a final curtsy and opens her eyes.
>'I have always loved that composition.  Thank you.'
>As the playlist advances on, you break out the chess set.  
>There's something oddly ethereal about the game that follows.  Perhaps it's the music almost perfectly syncing with the events transpiring.  Perhaps it's the serene smile Emily maintains even when slaughtering your troops.
>Perhaps it's the wind and rain continuing to assault your house, their intensity ebbing and flowing constantly.
>Whatever the reason, you've never lost a more pleasant game of chess.
>Emily smiles and bows her head.
>'Thank you for playing.'
>"It was nothing.  I had fun."
>'As did I, Anon.'
>She seems to be more at ease now, her posture becoming a bit more relaxed and her expression softer.
 
>"So, uh... how was your party?"
>She smiles somewhat nostalgically.
>'Wonderful.  Everything was so elegant and beautiful.'
>"That's great; glad you had fun.  ...say, what WAS your old job?"
>Her smile immediately vanishes.  In its place, a sorrowful frown.
>She hesitates for a long while, then shakily writes her response.
>'I used to sing.'
>A few tears stain the note.
>"Oh... I'm sorry.  How long have you been... mute?"
>Another long pause.
>Emily's blue eyes fill with tears as she hurriedly jots down a reply.
>'There was an occurrence, some years ago.  I'd rather not discuss it.  Ever since, I'
>The rest is nearly illegible from tear stains.  Frustrated, she pens the last sentence again, lower on the paper.
>'Ever since, I have been rendered wordless.  Voiceless.  Silent.  A broken instrument incapable of producing a single note.'
>She blinks back a few tears, then gently lays down her pen and paper before burying her face in her hands.
>Thunder rattles the house as a particularly bright flash of lightning illuminates the room via the windows.
 
>Your guest sits with her face hidden, but you can see tears leak from between her fingers.
>Poor thing.
>You gently wrap your arms around her, hoping to comfort her with a hug.  She stiffens up at your touch, but otherwise makes no attempt to reciprocate or resist.
>Her blue-grey fur is cool to the touch, and still feels slightly damp even now.
>You maintain your embrace, gently giving her some consoling pats on the back.  Emily sniffs once, then gently takes her hands away from her face, revealing her sorrowful blue eyes, glistening with tears.
>You smile.
>"Emily, even silenced, you can still show beauty to the world.  Like your dancing earlier; that was wonderful.  In fact..."
>You release your grip on her and stand, then bow and present your hand.
>"Would you like to have a dance with me?"
>She stares, still crying, and shakily stands.  She takes your hand with a tiny smile, then nods.
>As your phone continues to play some classical music, you and Emily waltz around the room slowly.  She closes her eyes, a more genuine smile slowly spreading across her face.
>Her movements are far more elegant than your own, but you keep pace decently.
>The rain outside ebbs and flows, the wind and lightning intensifying whenever the music grows exuberant.
>Eventually, the dance comes to a close.  Emily curtsies, and you bow.
>With her eyes still closed, she gently takes a seat, smiling with a few tears lingering in the corners of her eyes.
 
>Emily breathes deeply, then opens her eyes once more, her blue irises shining with tears.  She smiles sadly as the music quietly dies.
>The rain outside eases for a moment, only to return to its prior strength in minutes.
>You bow to the cat once more.
>"You are a very good dancer, Emily.  You really put me to shame."
>Another tiny smile crosses her face.
>'Thank you.  I have had much practice.'
>"I can tell.  And it's definitely paid off."
>She nods slowly, then yawns silently.
>'My my, it is certainly getting late.  I believe I shall retire for the night.  Thank you for your hospitality, Anon.'
>"My pleasure.  Sleep well."
>With a nod, she strolls out of the room, glancing at your wall clock as she goes.
>Once you hear her open and close the door to your bedroom, you lie down on the couch, then try to fall asleep.
>What time is it, anyway?
>You cast a glance at the old clock on your wall.
>12 O' Clock.  Midnight.
>Ah well.
 
>...wait.
>Wasn't... wasn't it midnight LAST time you checked the clock?
>...
}Of course not.  You're just imagining things from exhaustion. Besides, that old clock has been broken for months now.
}You should really get that fixed sometime.
>...shrugging off your momentary panic, you yawn and burrow under your blankets.  The rain continues to fall, the wind continues to blow.
>The warmth of your blankets and the white noise of the storm outside combine to quickly lull you to sleep.
>With a tiny, nagging feeling of concern quietly dying in the back of your head, you fall asleep.
>You don't dream, but you do get a restful sleep...
>...until you awaken to a booming clap of thunder.
>Bah.  Stupid inopportune storms...
>You hope your guest is sleeping well, at least.
 
>Maybe you should check on her?
}No, she's surely asleep by now.  It's past midnight, after all.
>...nevertheless, you creep down the hall.  You press your ear to your bedroom door...
>...nothing.
>You gently push the door open and peek inside.
>Emily is nowhere to be found.  Another rumble of thunder shakes the house as you start to panic.
>Where could she have gone?  Did she leave in this weather?
>Wait.
>What's that sound?

{https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmdyeXnJe6A}

>...someone's playing the old piano downstairs.
>Logic dictates that it must be Emily, since she's a nocturnal musician with an appreciation for antiques.
>You creep downstairs, following the music...
>In your parlor, Emily sits at the old white piano, still clad in your robe.  She idly plays some oddly ethereal tune, wincing each time she hits a sour note.
 
>Well... no sense in interrupting her.
>You take a seat and silently listen to her play.  The piece is somber and haunting; you don't recognize it from any composer you're aware of.
>She plays through the song slowly, eyes closed, and sways slightly to her own music. The song seems to linger in your head, each note swirling around within your mind.
>Eventually, Emily's song comes to a close.  She opens her eyes and stares down at the keys silently, expression unreadable.  With a sigh, she closes the lid over the keys, then simply sits with her head hanging low.
>You slowly walk over to join her, sitting next to the mute on the piano stool.  She glances at you, then composes a note.
>'I feared you might awaken.  My apologies.'
>"It wasn't your music, it was the thunder.  You did a wonderful job... what was that song?"
>The rain intensifies.
>'Elegy for the Rain.  An original composition of mine.  I wrote it years ago... shortly after I lost my voice.'
>"Well, it's beautiful."
>'Thank you.  It is poorly composed, and I am rather out of practice.  If it were rewritten and performed by more skilled hands... perhaps it would be of more merit.'
 
>"Don't be so harsh on yourself.  I thought it was wonderful, out of practice or not."
>Emily puts on a faint smile.
>'That's very kind of you.'
>She idly plays short excerpts of her composition as the rain ebbs and flows outside.  An odd chill runs down your spine...
>You glance at the clock.  12:10.
>...
>"Say, Emily... isn't it odd that we've done so much... and it's still dark out?"
>She immediately stops playing and turns to you with a frown.
>'Beg your pardon?  I have not noticed anything out of the ordinary.'
>"Huh?  But... we played chess, danced, I went to sleep for a good while... and it's still only a little after midnight."
>She narrows her eyes slightly.
>'Anon, I believe your imagination is getting to you.  Nothing is wrong here.  Please, relax and enjoy the music; it will soothe your worried mind.'
>She turns and begins her song anew, and you quietly sway to the music, feeling that chill melt away.
 
>Despite feeling a little more at ease, you still have a nagging feeling that something's not quite right...
>The music continues to drift throughout your parlor, mingling wonderfully with the storm outside. Emily closes her eyes, smiling.
>...you have the odd notion that her music may be... controlling you somehow?
}...no, no, that's absurd.  She's merely playing an original piece for you, nothing more.
>You shake your head to clear your thoughts.
>"...but Emily, think about all we've done; surely more than 10 minutes should have passed."
>She opens her eyes and frowns, halting her performance to write a response.
>'It has indeed been more than ten minutes.  I arrived here at Ten-o-Clock, Anon.  Do you not remember?'
>10 o' clock?  Wasn't it mid-
}No, no... it was definitely ten.  Curse your memory.
>Oh well.  
>"Oh, I remember now.  Sorry."
>She nods, then resumes her playing, soon smiling again.
 
}Everything is amazingly relaxing... almost ethereal.  Your doubts start to dissolve.
>But not entirely.  You've slept twice and only two hours have passed?  Something is definitely wrong... and it kinda scares you.
>You clear your throat.
>"Uhh, Emily, is it alright if I play a different song?"
>She frowns and stops playing the piano.
>'Of course, you are the host, after all.'
>You nod and pull out your phone, then play the 1812 Overture.  Emily sways slightly to the rhythm, wincing and flinching at the cannon blasts.
>Thunder begins to boom almost in harmony with the explosions, which doesn't help your concerns.
>You quietly make a note on your phone of the current time... and the apparent time your guest arrived.  You also set a timer, just in case.
>Emily frowns at you.
>'Is something the matter?  May I ask what you are doing?'
>"Err, just... I was gonna record your song."
>Her eyes light up.
>'Truly?  I would be honored.'
>You nod and start recording as she once again plays through her Elegy for the Rain.
>Once the song ends, you stop recording.  The two of you share a smile... and you can't helo but blurt out a question.
>"So, how DID you lose your voice?"
>Her smile immediately fades.
>'I would rather not elaborate on the accident.  It was rather traumatic, and I dislike discussing it.'
 
>You gently lay a hand on her shoulder.  Emily tenses for a moment, then relaxes, a minute smile appearing on her face.
>"Sorry for prying.  That was rude."
>'No, no, there is no need to apologize.  I understand.  A woman you have never met arrives upon your doorstep amidst a storm, unable to speak and unwilling to discuss her past.  It is only natural you would be curious.'
>You subconsciously squeeze her shoulder, and her smile grows a bit.
>"That sums up my thoughts exactly.  But... I keep noticing odd things."
>'Odd?'
>"Yes.  Things like the thunder matching your wincing... the time being weirdly fuzzy..."
>Emily stares at you, pupils narrowing to slits, then hangs her head, staring into the piano keys.
>There's a long pause as the rain outside intensifies, then she begins writing.
>'It was a stormy night, much like tonight.  I performed a concert for a private party.  It was beautiful, Anon.  The hosts decorated everything in blue and silver.  I sang for hours, and the crowd loved me.  And I loved them.  The party lasted well on into the night.  I departed at midnight, and walked home, as the venue was but minutes away from my home.'
>She wipes tears from her eyes, trembling.  The rain intensifies further.
>'The storm raged on, and so I rushed to my home as quickly as possible.  Alas, perhaps... too quickly.  As I ran down the pathway to my home, passing by the river, as always, it happened.  I slipped.  Unable to regain balance, I tumbled over the riverbank.'
>She sighs, tears flowing rapidly.
>'That night, I drowned.'
 
>Your blood runs cold as her tearful blue eyes stare into your face.
>"D-drowned?"
>She nods... and a voice rings in your head.  Rather soft and low, with a noticeable Irish lilt to it.
>"Yes, drowned.  Mister Anon, you are being haunted."
>Her mouth never moves, but you hear her sigh regardless.
>"If you're a ghost, then... how can I see you... how can I touch you?"
>She raises a hand.
>"It would be more accurate to refer to me as a spectre, rather than a ghost.  It is an important distinction.  My tangibility is merely an effect of this distinction."
>"Why haunt me?"
>She smiles, and a laugh echoes through your head.
>"Ah, I anticipated such a question.  Mister Anon, your home reminds me so very much of my prior house.  I suppose that drew me here."
>"IS this your old house?"
>"No, no... my home was in the Otherworld.  I trust you know of such a place?"
>"Yes... I've been there a few times."
>"Truly?  Wonderful.  I come from a time before the worlds were so intricately linked."
>"How long have you been..."
>"Ah, the other big question.  My death was 25 years ago tonight."
>"Oh... how old were you?"
>"Mister Anon, it's rude to ask a lady her age."
>"Oh, sorry.  So, the rain, the time... all you?"
>"Yes, all me.  The nature of my death gave me intrinsic ties to storms, as well as the hour of midnight.  I suppose one could charitably call them perks."
>"...am... am I dying?"
>"Heavens, no.  You're merely my host."
>You stare in silence, then hug her tightly.  Emily gasps in your head, and returns the gesture stiffly.
>"M-Mister Anon...?  Are you not frightened?"
>"I am, but it's a tragedy for someone as beautiful as you to die so young."
>She silently embraces you, the storm- no, HER storm, calming.
 
>Still keeping your arms around her, you let the questions keep flying.
>"Are ALL spectres mute, or..."
>"Ah, some.  Myself, well, I'm simply incapable of speaking normally due to the water."
>"The... water?"
>"Yes, indeed.  Listen."
>She pulls your head down, pressing your ear to her chest.  She shudders a bit... and you follow suit at the sounds you hear.  You can tell her lungs are absolutely filled with water, as the fluid rushes madly from her movements.
>"That is why I'm mute, you see."
>"O-oh.  So, you can only speak like this?"
>"Aye.  Well, I can attempt to speak normally, but..."
>She sighs and opens her mouth to speak.
>Horrid bubbling, gurgling, choking sounds escape her throat as water spills from her mouth. Embarassed, she clamps her jaws shut.
>"As you can see, ah, things do not work as I'd like."
>"Well, at least I can hear your voice.  It's as beautiful as I'd imagined, actually."
>A faint, blue blush comes to her cheeks, shining through her grey fur.
>"You flatter me, Mister Anon."
>"I mean it, really.  Oh, another question: why haunt at all?  Have you done this before?"
>"I've haunted several people over my 25 years of death, yes.  Each one has seen fit to exorcize me, trap me, run me out, or otherwise be rid of me.  Aha, I can only assume you too will want me to depart from here.  I can understand that.  Who would want a spectre lingering around their lovely home, tracking river water and staying awake all night...?"
>You hug her tighter.
>"Emily, I'm not afraid of you.  I'm not gonna run you off.  You can stay here as long as you want.  ...how long CAN you stay?"
>She gasps again, leaning back and scrutinizing your face.
>"You... don't mean that.  You don't want a melancholy woman like myself haunting you.  But... I can linger here as long as I am allowed to do so.  I merely extended the hour because... I feared that, should you realize my true nature, you might panic.  If needed, I was prepared to reset the night to the stroke of midnight.  But, it seems you are a patient, understanding gentleman.  Thank you, Mister Anon."
>"I DO mean it, Emily.  You're welcome to stay.  I want to help you if I can, and I enjoy your company. But... may I ask why you're here, rather than in the great beyond?"
>"Ah, that IS the question, is it not?  Mister Anon, I won't be dishonest with you.  I haven't the foggiest why I linger here.  Rather than dwell, I prefer to make the best of my time here."
 
>"So what is it you want, exactly?  Do you want help moving on?  ...if given the choice, WOULD you move on?"
>A thoughtful look crosses her face.
>"Mister Anon, I have been contemplating that for decades now.  Truth be told... I cannot say what I would do if given the choice.  I enjoy lingering here, to some degree... but then, there is some part of me that wonders... what it's like.  Ah, but I ramble.  I would rather like to stay here, if you are certain you don't mind hosting me...?"
>"I don't mind at all.  Stay as long as you want."
>She smiles earnestly as the rain calms down.
>"Thank you, Mister Anon."
>"You can drop the Mister, Emily.  You live here now; no need for formality."
>"Are you certain?  Very well, ah, Anon.  Your hospitality is much appreciated."
>"Think nothing of it.  Do you suppose you could maybe empty your lungs?  Maybe into the bathtub or something?"
>"Ah, I have tried that.  Seems it is a fool's errand.  I do believe I am effectively stuck with filled lungs for eternity.  Though I suppose it isn't all negative.  I have an unlimited supply of water... though I don't recommend you drink it.  It has been useful for fires and such, however."
>"Oh.  Well, it was worth a shot."
>She nods in agreement.
>...
>"Emily... may I ask what it was like... dying?"
>Her face gets rather solemn.
>"...I was terrified, Anon.  I was always afraid of that river.  Imagine my horror when I realized my fate was sealed.  I tried to keep my head above water, but to no avail.  My ensemble, waterlogged, drug me to the depths.  All I could hear was the rush of the currents, the flow of the water... and my own thrashing.  Then?  Silence.  Silence..."
 
>You hold her close as she cries, trembling.  You can't help but notice she's cool and damp to the touch even now...
>"It's okay... sorry I brought it up.  Just let it all out, cry as long as you need to."
>She sobs in your head for a moment, then you hear gurgling as water runs down your back.  She lets out choked sobs for several minutes before eventually regaining some composure.  Emily buries her face in your shoulder, sniffling.
>"It's okay.  I'm here for you if you want to talk."
>Her voice, punctuated by sniffling, echoes in your head.
>"N-no... please... I'm sorry, but... I just can't.  Not right now."
>"I understand."
>You hug her closer, not caring about your soaked sleepwear.  More river water flows down your shoulder as she continues to cry.
>"Would some music help?  I have a song from a wonderful composer on my phone."
>She nods, head still buried in your shoulder, and you play back her own Elegy for the Rain.  Outside, the storm rages again.
>Emily sighs deeply, faintly rocking back and forth to the music.
>The song plays out... and at the very end, you hear something that sends goosebumps across your body.
>In your head, Emily softly sings along to her music wordlessly.

>Sensing she really just needs comfort, you hold her tightly.  Emily continues to sway gently, her ethereal voice still singing within your head.
>Occasionally, she lets a sob escape her, along with a short downpour of icy water.  You're absolutely soaked to the bone, but it's alright.
>You quietly hum along to her composition, eliciting a momentary pause in her singing.  She sighs happily, then continues.  You slowly attempt to rise from the piano seat, trying to coax her into a dance.
>Emily resists your motion, remaining firmly seated.
>Oh well. You sit back down and hug her close again, running a hand through her damp hair slowly.
>Eventually, the song draws to a close.  Emily sighs deeply as she stops singing.
>"Still just as beautiful as last time, Emily.  Would you teach me to play that song sometime?"
>"Mm, perhaps later.  I am afraid I do not quite feel up to it at the moment."
>"I understand. ...do you suppose there's anyone we could call about your condition?"
>"Alas, I have tried many a time to rid myself of this watery curse, but to no avail.  Mayhaps there is a spirit capable of lifting it, but I have yet to find one, sadly."
>"Can't hurt to try, right?  Where would we start?"
>She gently pulls away from your hug, blue eyes still full of tears.
>"...Anon... I would rather like to drop this issue for the time being."
>"Alright.  Sorry."
>"It is fine. I just... need a moment, is all."
>"Take all the time you need."
>She nods, a faint smile momentarily crossing her face.
>"Thank you. You are an excellent host."

>You smile gently.
>"Host, huh?  Aren't we past that stage?"
>"...perhaps.  Do you consider me more than a guest, Anon?"
>"I'd call you a friend."
>That same blue blush shines through the fur on her cheeks for a bit.
>"That's very kind of you."
>"What about you?  Would you consider us friends?"
>"...aye, if you would call me a friend, I don't see why I cannot do the same."
>"Great."
>You yawn, and Emily looks apologetic.
>"I have kept you awake long enough.  Please, go enjoy a good night's rest.  I shall find something to possess till morn."
>"...possess?"
>"Indeed.  As a spectre, I do not need to sleep, nor can I actually do so.  It is somewhat tiring to maintain this form, however.  Possessing an item allows me to rest my weary body."
>"I see.  What are you thinking about taking over?"
>Emily runs a hand across the lid of the piano keys.
>"...would you mind terribly if I inhabited this instrument for the night?"
>"Of course not."
>"Thank you.  Goodnight, Anon."
>Emily seems to vanish as a stream of water splashes over the piano, apparently absorbing into the instrument instantly.  Shrugging, you head up to bed and promptly collapse onto your plush mattress.  It's moments before you fall asleep.


>You awaken at noon feeling as if you've slept for a whole day.  You feel more refreshed than you've ever felt after a night's sleep.
>The sound of a familiar piece echoes from the parlor.  Seems Emily is playing Gynt's Morning Mood.
>You stroll into the parlor after getting dressed to find your new friend seated at the piano, as expected.  
>You're pleasantly surprised when she actually smiles.
>"Ah, good morrow.  I trust you slept well?  I took the liberty of extending the hour a bit more, so as to allow for more rest."
>"I feel wonderful, thank you."
>She stands and curtsies with another smile.

>"So, what do you want to do today, now that you live here, Emily?"
>"Ah, I believe that is your decision to make.  I am merely haunting you, remember?  Ha..."
>"That may be so, but I still want your opinion."
>"Hmm... to be truthful, I haven't the faintest notion of anything to do.  I suppose I'll simply tag along with you, wherever it is you go today."
>"Well, I'm off work today, so... I guess we can just stay here."
>"Ah, wonderful.  I must admit I would rather like to get more accustomed to this home of yours."
>"Home of mine?  Don't you mean home of ours?"
>"..."
>Emily hugs you gently, then almost immediately lets go, blushing.
>"I... apologize.  That was unbecoming a lady."
>"I didn't mind."
>"B-be that as it may, 'twas still rude of me."
>"Either way.  I'll give you a tour of the house today, sure."
>"Splendid.  Where shall we begin...?"

>"Well why not tackle it from the bottom up?  We can start with the cellar."
>Emily tilts her head slightly, but nods.
>"Unusual starting point, but very well.  Lead the way."
>She follows extremely close behind you, bumping into your back every time you stop walking.  Her damp fur has left a very faint, but noticeable spot on your back, a fact she has apologized for many times now.
>As you walk, a nostalgic smile lingers on Emily's face.
>"My, my... your house resembles my old estate eerily... it feels like I'm home..."
>She flinches.
>"Err, don't mind my presumptuous musing.  This is of course your home, I am merely staying here..."
>"Nonsense.  Consider this place home if that makes you happy."
>"Truly?  ...thank you."
>You smile and nod as you head down to the cellar.

< youtube .com/watch?v=YhIf_zV6yK0 >

>Truth be told, you don't like it down here.
>The sole bulb in the cellar hangs mournfully, pitifully casting a dim light with the revenant of a filament that's been burning for years.  The air is icy and damp, with a smell not unlike that of a foggy morning.
>The ceiling occasionally drips, indignant at carrying the weight of the water flowing through the house's myriad pipes.
>Shelves lined with old tchotchkes moulder in brooding silence, dust and cobwebs the only things that deign to touch them anymore.
>A faint, maddening drone thrums within the dark chamber, ostensibly emenating from the house's inner workings, the wiring and plumbing.
>In short, the cellar is not a pleasant room.
>Emily bears an odd expression, a mixture of trepidation...
>...and intrigue.

>"See something interesting?"
>Emily gently strolls over to a shelf, gingerly picking up an old record. She stares down at it wordlessly, expression inscrutable.
>"..."
>"Something wrong?"
>Silently, she presents the record to you.
>It's an album by a singer named Emily Rainier... she flips the cover over to reveal a photograph of herself on the back.
>"I... remember recording this.  Shortly before my accident.  It was the happiest day of my life."
>She smiles, a few tears welling up in her eyes.
>"Ah, it was so magical.  Performing, knowing that my voice would be immortalized in recording form... 'tis a shame then that my life came to an end not a month later."
>She sighs, letting a small stream of water spray from her mouth.
>"I never did feel that... alive, again.  My performances felt so hollow after that session.  I poured my heart, my soul into this album."
>She chuckles, but it seems false.
>"How ironic then, that my life's greatest achievement find itself wasting away amongst dust and decay.  Ah, but I ramble.  Anon, do you mind terribly if I... have this?"
>"Of course not.  Please, by all means."
>Emily happily tucks the record under her arm, casting another look around the room.
>"Thank you.  I must say, there are rather a lot of trinkets down here."
>"Yeah... left over from previous owners."
>"Truly?  How interesting.  This room could function as a sort of... museum.  Ah, if only it could tell us the tales of people long gone."
>She daintily lifts an old hunting rifle.  The barrel is absolutely caked with rust.  You wouldn't trust it to fire if your life depended on it.
>"Imagine, if you will, the stories this could spin.  Tales of glory, of opportunities seized and prizes won.  Tales of despair, of crucial shots missed and lessons learned..."
>She sighs once again.
>"...oh.  I'm doing it again, aren't I?  Terribly sorry.  I get so... sentimental, sometimes.  I suppose it comes with the territory of being a spectre, ha..."

>"I understand.  Nothing down here is sentimental to me PERSONALLY, but I can appreciate the history behind every single item.  It's fascinating really, that everything in here meant something to someone..."
>"Ah, my thoughts precisely.  I suppose being deceased makes me more inclined to think about this sort of thing, though."
>"It's good to be thoughtful about that kind of thing.  Recognize anything else?"
>"Hmm."
>She strolls through the cellar, eyeing every shelf curiously.
>"I don't... see anything else that leaps out to me at the moment.  There are a few interesting things, but nothing relevant to myself."
>"Alright.  Ready to see more of the house?"
>"Certainly.  Please, lead the way."
>You carefully fumble your way back to the stairs... or try to, anyway.  You instead end up deeper in the cellar.  This darkness is a pain to navigate, but eventually you find the way out.
>For a fleeting moment, you swear the stairs vanish... but it must be your imagination.
>At the top of the stairs, Emily pulls out her record once again, smiling nostalgically at her old photograph.
>The Emily in that picture has a wide, genuine smile, something you've never seen on the spectre herself.  She glances at you with sadness in her eyes.
>"Ah... what I wouldn't give to feel that way just once more.  To taste that unrivaled joy again..."
>There's a pause, then Emily suddenly bursts into tears.
>"It isn't fair, Anon.  To have my pride and joy wrested from me in death.  I-it simply isn't fair..."
>You wrap an arm around her supportively.
>"I know, it isn't. I'm sorry it happened to you."
>"It is no fault of yours... allowing me to reside here is... help enough.  Thank you, Anon."
>She regains her composure slowly.

>After Emily calms down, you give her a relatively uneventful tour of the ground floor, ending in the parlor.
>"You know, I have an old record player, if you'd like to play your album."
>"Truly?  That would be interesting."
>You take her record over to the player and start it up.  After a grainy pause, that same voice you've been hearing in your head rings forth from the speakers.
>Emily immediately sighs, closing her eyes and swaying to the sound of her own singing.
>Unconsciously, she opens her mouth to sing along, succeeding only in issuing a variety of gurgles and bubbles as water spills all over your floor.
>But she doesn't notice.
>Emily keeps her eyes shut firmly, mouthing along to every word of her old songs.  Her tail curls about happily, snaking through the air.
>A rather large pool of water now surrounds your guest, running across the floor as her every "word" brings forth more and more liquid.
>Eventually, the album draws to a close.  Emily wipes her eyes and opens them slowly.
>"...the best day of my life, all on that one record.  Isn't it amazing, An-"
>She trails off when she notices the water surrounding her.  Emily blushes, shamefaced.
>"O-oh.  My apologies... I got too absorbed in the music."

>Smiling patiently, you dash off to grab a towel.  Once the water is sopped up, you hug Emily gently.
>She stiffens up awkwardly, a confused look on her face.
>"...are you not upset about the mess?"
>"Nope.  It's just water.  Easy to clean up, no fuss."
>"I'm terribly sorry, regardless."
>"Don't apologize, it's fine.  You were enjoying the music."
>"...I only hope someday I can sing that way again."
>"Well... so you suppose we could look into a way to solve your water problems?"
>"...perhaps.  It would take someone very knowledgeable about spirits to lift such an affliction."
>You idly pull your phone out, googling.  Emily stares with fascination.
>"My, my.  Technology never ceases to impress me as it advances."
>You nod as you come across a promising site.
>It lists instructions on how to summon spirits of various descriptions.
>"Emily, do you suppose another spirit could help?"
>"Aye, potentially."
>"There's a list of known summons here..."
>You read them aloud as you scroll.
>"Let's see... there's a few spectres, Blanche and Jackie... a phantom, name unknown... and an unclassified, unnamed spirit."
>"Hm.  Perhaps it would behoove us to look into some of these, Anon."
>"Right... but who to start with..."

>Hm.
>Emily has turned out to be an exceedingly polite, harmless individual... but you can't be sure that ALL spirits are gonna be friendly like her.
>Better read the details first.
>"Blanche: spectre of a deer.  One with nature, seems sensitive about her past.  Motherly personality, safe to interact with."
>"Jackie: spectre of an opossum.  Was a mechanic in life, greatly enjoys fixing things.  Brash, loud, but generally safe.  Has a tendency to overdo it when "upgrading" machinery."
>"???: phantom of indeterminate species.  Female, judging by silhouette and voice.  Has never indicated her name to any summoner.  Affinity unknown, as entity typically keeps to herself.  Safe?"
>"___: unknown name, unknown species.  Classification uncertain.  Female.  Safety rating unknown, defaulting to "utilize mild caution."  Has been successfully exorcized with the use of salt water on at least two occasions, if need arises."

>"Hm.  Let's try Blanche first.  Seems like a safe bet."
>Emily nods.
>"Aye, my thoughts exactly."
>You read and follow the instructions given.  The room fills with a warm green light.
>The scent of springtime wafts through the air on a cool breeze as a woman strides into your parlor.
>Blanche is a tall, slender deer woman clad in a rather conservative gown.  She smiles warmly from beneath a sunhat with a handful of flowers shoved into the band.  Friendly green eyes seem to glimmer in the light.
>Most strikingly, however, her head is mounted.
>Where a neck should be is an ornate wood placard, hovering above her shoulders slightly.  She nods sagely in acknowledgement of you and Emily.
>"Oh my, another day, another summoning... though, being called to a home with a spectre already present is a surprise."
>She calmly strides over to the nearest chair and takes a seat, tracking leaves behind her.
>"So!  How are you two doing today?"
>"I'm fine, thank you.  I called you here to see if you could help us with Emily's condition."
>"Condition?  Hrm.  Emily, dear, come here for a moment."
>The cat complies and demonstrates her predicament.  Blanche frowns thoughtfully.
>"Hm.  Seems you have a negatively manifested affinity.  This happens, occasionally, when a spirit forms an intrinsic bond with something they feared or hated in life.  If you don't mind my guessing, I assume you had a fear of drowning and met your fate that way?"
>"Aye, that's true."
>"Hmm.  Well, let's see.  I've dealt with these before... but it has been a while.  Sorry, dear, but it may take some time for my memory to come back.  Do you mind if I take a moment to collect myself, summoner?"
>"Of course not.  And call me Anon."
>"Alright, Anon, dear.  I'm sure the method to curing one of these will come back to me in due time.  But, in the meantime, is there anything else I could do for you two?  I don't like to answer a summons without at least making myself useful."

>"Maybe you could have a look at the garden out back?  I've got a black thumb, myself, the plot's been empty since I moved in."
>Blanche grins ear to ear.
>"Ohh!  I'd love to take a look.  What sort of garden are you thinking?  Practical, with some nice veggies? Colorful, with plenty of flowers? Maybe you'd prefer something more exotic, like a cactus patch?  Ooor we could get seasonal, with some pumpkins...?"
>Blanche seems to steadily grow more and more excited at the prospect of gardening, then catches herself.
>"Ha, sorry.  I just- I don't get to DO gardens much anymore.  I'm usually just called in to handle things like thorn infestations and whatnot.  It's refreshing!"
>"It's fine, really; glad to see you excited.  As for what kind of garden, do what you think works."
>"Really?  I'll do you proud, dear.  Your garden will turn heads for sure."
>You lead Blanche outside, and Emily follows.  The cat takes a seat on a bucket as the deer gently digs in the rich soil with her bare hands.
>Blanche hums a merry tune as she works, and Emily soon joins in.
>"Hm?  A music fan, are you?  That's swell.  I guess that's your other affinity, huh?"
>"Not exactly... mine are storms and water."
>"Ah.  Well, those aren't bad, dear.  When we get your water sorted out, you'll learn to love it.  How long have you been dead, if you don't mind me prying?"
>"25 years."
>"Aww, you're still new to this, then.  60 and counting for me, dear."
>"...does it get easier?"
>"Ha... for some, it does.  I've certainly grown to accept it.  A girl your age, I'm sure you'll be fine.  I know what you went through was hard, and it's very hard to move past one's death, but you'll learn to cope.  Emily, I believe in you!"
>Blanche nods happily as a row of flowers blooms in the garden, then steps down to the next row.
>"Now... let me think.  Negative affinities... wasn't there...  mph, curse my memory!  I'll recall it soon enough, dears, don't fret."
>"Take your time, Miss Blanche."
>"Ha, you dont have to call me Miss, Emily.  I appreciate the sentiment though."
>As the two spectres chat, you vaguely wonder if summoning Jackie might let her install some drains in your floors or something...
>"Hey, Blanche... do you know Jackie?"
>"Hm?  Oh, the mechanic?  Smart girl, great with machines.  A bit rude at times, but she knows her stuff.  Why's that, dear?"
>"Do you think she could set up some drains for Emily?"
>"Hmmm... perhaps?  You are aware that her upgrading sometimes goes a bit overboard?"
>"I am."
>"Personally?  I would wait, dear."
>"Alright, I'll trust your judgment."
>"Thank you.  Now, err, what were you saying, Emily?"
>"Oh, I was just asking... how you passed on?"
>Blanche's smile fades.
>"Oh.  I don't want to be rude, dear, but... can we not talk about that?  It's a rather difficult subject."
>"Aye, I understand completely.  Sorry I brought it up."
>The deer woman almost immediately regains her smile.
>"You're fine, dear."

>"So, Blanche: how bad of an idea would it be to summon spirits willy-nilly?"
>"Mm, very inadvisable.  There are plenty of harmless spirits like myself and your friend out there, but we aren't ALL friendly.  Bringing in spirits at random is a good way to bring in someone dangerous."
>"I see.  Do you know anything about these unnamed spirits on the summoning site?"
>"Oh?  ...I can't say I do, dear.  My apologies."
>"It's fine.  What's the difference in a phantom and a spectre?"
>"Unlike Emily and myself, phantoms are incorporeal spirits.  They have more poweful affinities, but are incapable of manifesting as more than a shadow UNLESS they possess an object.  Even then, phantoms experience a deep discomfort when inhabiting an object that doesn't match one of their affinities."
>"Oh, interesting.  Speaking of affinities, have you met spectres with negative ones before?"
>"...I believe so.  Mmf!  I just cannot seem to recall how to fix those... maybe if I finish this garden.  I'm really sorry, dears, I know waiting must be frustrating."
>"It's fine, really."
>"Now, let me think... spectres I've MET.  Well, Jackie is one, but her affinities are both positively manifested.  Then there's... no, no, both positive.  Maybe... no.  Could it have been...?"
>Blanche suddenly jumps, a beaming grin appearing on her face.
>"Ah, I remember!  It was that cosmonaut!  Poor dear had a crippling negative affinity with space itself.  But... how did we go about fixing that...?  Hm.  Well, I'm a step closer to remembering, dear, I'm certain I can do it."
>"Take your time, Blanche."

>The deer spectre happily works the garden, idly chatting away with you and Emily.
>"Hmm.  Let's see, what DID we do for that poor dear with the negative affinity...?  Hmm.  HMMM!  Oh, phooey.  Curse my memory.  I was forgetful in life too, ha."
>"Well, maybe talking about affinities in general would help jog your memory?"
>"Maybe!  Let's see.  Spirits typically have two affinities: one is generally tied to their interests or something that relates to them personally, and one often has something to do with their cause of death.  Now, these are GENERAL cases!  In some cases, an affinity may be due to the environment near their death place.  For example, Emily, I'm certain you passed during a storm, yes?"
>"Aye."
>"Right.  So your affinities are storms and water, because you drowned during a storm."
>"And your affinities are nature and...?"
>Blanche grimaces and tugs at the collar of her gown.
>"Err... it's not one I use, really.  Not even worth mentioning."
>Seems she doesn't want to discuss it... time to change the subject.
>"Anyway... do you know any spirits who could help?"
>"Hmm.  Well, perhaps one more powerful than me could take a look, if I can't figure out a cure.  I'm sure I'll re- OH!  OH, I REMEMBER!  Emily, to cure a negative affinity, you must face the fear it stems from!  So... you'll need to go back to that river."
>Immediately, sheer terror appears on the cat's face.  She shakes her head rapidly.
>"No, no, no, no, no, I-I cannot.  I cannot face that horrible place again."

>Blanche gently drapes an arm around Emily.
>"Emily, dear... it'll be okay.  I know it's hard.  But, I have faith you can do this!"
>You step close and hug Emily.
>"I'll be with you.  You won't face it alone."
>"...th-thank you both.  But... I cannot do it.  I'm sorry.  I just CANNOT."
>"It's gonna be hard, I know.  But, Emily: if you want to sing again, this is your best chance at it."
>"...that is a good point.  But... I do not think I can do it.  My fear is... too strong for me to overcome."
>"You can do it, dear.  If that brave explorer could face her fear of the cosmos themselves, you can certainly handle this river.  If it would help, I can go along for support."
>"...is there possibly another way?"
>"Well, I can't rule out the possibility, but any such method is beyond my station, dear.  You'd need a more potent spirit."
>"What would you do in my situation, Blanche? If you had to face your worst fear or never do what you love most again?"
>The deer looks genuinely thoughtful.
>"...Emily.  I can't deny, it would be very hard for me to do that myself.  It won't be easy, but it will be worth your while.  But, if you want to seek an alternative method..."
>Blanche gently hugs you and Emily close.
>"I want you to know that I will support whatever you decide to do.  I'll stay with you and Anon until you're cured."
>"You would do that for a stranger?"
>"Of course, dear! You need help, I can help, it's my duty as a good spirit to aid you in any way I can."
>"Thank you, Blanche."
>Emily sighs deeply.
>"...Anon?  What would you do?  Brave it?  Or do you suppose it may be fruitful to seek alternative solutions?"

>"Emily.  I know it's difficult, but I think it would be best to brave it.  We can do some research, go in prepared, handle it in small bursts.  It doesn't have to be an all or nothing thing."
>The cat trembles and hugs you tightly.
>"I-I don't want to go... but... if you will be there, maybe it will not be so bad?"
>"There you go.  Come on, we'll look up some pictures first."
>You gently lead Emily to your computer, then search for the river she names.  A few photos of a large, winding river pop up...
>...as well as an article.
>"Local Singer Drowns In Freak Storm"
>Emily goes silent.
>"..."
>You quickly scroll past the article, but she's obviously upset.
>"...Anon.  Could you... possibly find information on me?"
>You comply, searching for Emily Rainier.  Practically everything that pops up is about her death.
>Most articles mourn the freak accident. A scant few, however, suspect foul play, or even, in one case, that her drowning was no accident on her part.
>Tears well up in Emily's eyes.
>"Ah.  Seems my demise has overshadowed anything I ever accomplished in life.  H-how fitting.  Thank you, Anon... for confirming my suspicions."
>"Hey.  Don't let that bother you.  The public always talks about the death of someone famous.  I'm sure there's plenty of people who remember your life."
>"...thank you, Anon."
>You pull up the river images again, and Emily sighs, trembling.
>"Ha... even a mere picture brings me to trembling like a child.  I do not stand a chance, Anon."
>"Nonsense.  I'll be with you.  You'll get through it."
>She smiles slightly, still shaking with fear.

>As you google, you try searching for Emily's album...
>There's a full, if grainy, upload of it on YouTube.  You start playing it, to her utter amazement.
>"See?  People DO remember your life."
>"I-I..."
>She falls silent, swaying to the music.  You scroll down through the comments, finding a surprising number lamenting her passing and talking about how much they loved her music.
>Emily smiles genuinely, reading the love for her work.  She then sighs and nods curtly.
>"I must do this.  I must face that river again.  I must sing again, Anon.  Just... once more."
>"There you go.  You can do it.  It won't be so bad.  We can start just by going out and looking at it... maybe eventually build up to dipping a finger in, possibly even swimming if it comes to it."
>She starts trembling again at the thought of it.
>"Why don't we start with some smaller bodies of water?  Like... the bathtub?"
>Emily narrows her eyes.
>"Anon.  I think I can handle a tub of water."
>"There you go, that's the spirit."
>You quickly head off to fill the bathtub up, then lead Emily there.  The whole walk there, she idly boasts about being unafraid of the water...
>Only to shriek and scramble out of the room the instant you help her dip a finger in.
>Emily dashes to your parlor and dives "into" the piano, possessing it and vanishing.  The lid rattles quietly as the whole instrument shakes.
>"I-I cannot do it, Anon.  It's worse than I thought..."
>"It'll be alright, Emily.  We can try again."
>"But... very well.  May I take a moment, please?"
>"Of course.  Take your time."

>Eventually, Emily comes out of the piano, smoothing down her dress and hair, embarrassed.
>"Well that... could have went better.  My apologies."
>"Don't apologize, it's perfectly normal to be afraid of something like that after what you went through.  We'll take it easier.  Say, I have an idea: could you possess me like you do the piano, and feel the water that way?"
>"No, I cannot possess living creatures.  Only objects.  That was a good thought, though."
>"Well, alright.  Let's try less water, and I'll hold your hand the whole time."
>"...thank you, Anon.  I appreciate your patience with me.  I know my fear is... childish, really."
>"Not at all.  It's perfectly understandable."
>You lead her to the kitchen, and fill a large glass with water.
>"There.  Easy, right?"
>You take her hand, and she immediately clutches it in a death grip.  At your encouragement, she hesitantly dips a finger into the glass.
>She shakes violently, letting out quiet whimpers of fright in your head, but doesn't flee.  Her already-tight grip becomes painful as she squeezes your wrist even harder.
>Eventually, she pulls her finger out of the water, then wraps her arms around you, teary eyed.
>"......I-I did it.... but..... I am not sure I can handle more water than this."
>"It's fine, we'll work on it."
>Blanche strolls into the room, smiling.
>"Garden is done.  Now then!  What are we doing, exposure therapy?  Hard stuff.  Hang in there, dear."
>"Thank you, Blanche.  I want to work on my fears... but do you suppose any of the listed spirits may have more experience with these negative affinities?"
>"Hmm.  Let's see.  It's me, Jackie, a phantom, and an unclassified spirit?  Depends.  The phantom may know something... and if that unclassed spirit turns out to be something particularly potent, she could well be the ticket to fixing this without exposure to the river."
>"I see.  I will endeavor to build up my resistance, but it is good to have alternatives in case the fear is too much for me."

>"Let's work on building you up, then.  We may give that phantom a try later if things get too rough for you."
>"Very well."
>"Let's try... letting you dip a finger without holding my hand."
>"V-very well."
>Emily gingerly prods the side of the glass, eyes filled with terror.  She casts a glance at you, to which you respond with an enouraging nod.
>With a deep breath, she closes her eyes tightly and dips her finger into the wate, almost immediately drawing it out with a short squeal.  She blinks a few times, then repeats the process.
>A tiny smile crosses her face as she repeats her motion a few times.
>"...it isn't so bad..."'
>"See?  You've got this."
>"Thank you.  M-maybe a short recess, though.  My teeth are chattering."
>"That's fine.  Take all the time you need.  Oh, by the way: could that possession idea work if you possessed my shirt or something?"
>"Hmm.  It is a possibility."
>"How does that feel for you, anyway?"
>"It is as simple as the host object feeling like an extension of my body.  I feel whatever it goes through.  I can also control some things, like the piano keys."
>"Interesting."
>Emily sighs and takes a seat, slowly calming down.  As she does, an idea begins to form in your head.
>"Emily, follow me, I have an idea."
>She tilts her head, but follows you outside.  You quickly set up your surprise for her, then turn the sprinkler on, watching the mist form a rainbow in the sunlight.
>Emily smiles at the display, then at you.
>"That's rather nice."
>"You're not afraid?"
>"Only of BODIES of water, it seems.  This does not frighten me at all."
>"Well, in that case..."
>You extend a hand to her.
>"...shall we dance?"
>Emily smiles broadly and takes your hand.  The two of you twirl and dance through the mist, getting soaked to the bone.  Emily chuckles in your head, for once sounding actually...
>Happy.

>Eventually, the dance comes to a close.  Emily smiles broadly, giggling in your head.
>"My, I haven't just... let loose like that in some time.  It felt... nice.  Thank you, Ano-"
>You interrupt her with a peck on the cheek, pulling her close.  That ethereal blue blush creeps to her cheeks again.
>"O-oh my..."
>You keep an arm wrapped around her, feeling her damp dress and fur.
>"You're so graceful, Emily; I could watch you dance all day."
>"Why, thank you.  I owe some of it to my feline heritage, and some to years of practice."
>"Practice that certainly paid off."
>"You flatter me, Anon. You are simply too kind."
>Emily sighs and nods.
>"Hmph.  I believe I want to try the tub again.  ...b-but, I would rather appreciate your presence..."
>"Alright, let's give it a shot."
>You lead Emily to the bathroom once again, offering words of encouragement the whole way.
>Once there, she almost immediately tenses up and trembles at the sight of the water.  She gulps nervously, and shakily takes your hand, squeezing it tightly.
>Slowly, ever so slowly, she reaches a trembling hand towards the water...
>...
>...she manages to dip a finger in, only to immediately draw it out with a violent shudder.  Emily leaps up into your arms, only to vanish.  
>Your shirt seems to vibrate wildly for a moment, then Emily manifests behind you again, apparently fighting the urge to sprint out of the room.
>"....I-I-I cannot do it..."

>Again, you hug her close.
>"There, there.  You'll be alright.  Emily, it won't be easy, but I believe you have the strength to do this."
>"You believe wrong, I'm afraid.  I am simply too weak, too frightened."
>"You are not weak.  You'll get over this fear, I know you will.  It's just going to take time and more exposure."
>"...very well.  Have you anything smaller than this tub?"
>You nod and fill up the sink.  She eyes it apprehensively, quaking, but steels herself.  With a deep breath, she plunges a finger into the water.
>Emily forces herself, at your encouragement, to keep her finger there.  After a full minute, you let her retreat.  She gasps as if for air, then blinks in shock.
>"I... did it?  Anon, you helped me do it!"
>She hugs you, then releases quickly, blushing.
>"Good job!  Think you're up to the tub now?"
>"Err..."
>"Come on~ we'll go for just a half-minute with that."
>She reluctantly allows you to pull her to the tub, then, amazingly, plunges her whole hand into the water.
>It's only 15 seconds before she screams, pulling her hand away and hyperventilating in your head.  She even opens her mouth, accidentally spraying the room with copious streams of river water.
>Emily drops to her knees, teary-eyed.
>"Why...?  Why can't I do this, Anon?  Am I truly doomed to failure?"
>"No, you aren't."
>You kneel down and take her hands into yours.
>"Emily.  You are doing better than you realize.  You just dunked your whole hand instead of just a finger.  You're making great progress even if it doesn't feel that way."
>"But... I'm so frightened..."
>"And that's normal.  The goal is to build up so instead of being afraid of water, you smile.  You can handle it without fear.  That goal is a ways away, but with a little faith in yourself, I know you can make it there."
>She smiles and slowly rises, gently smoothing her dress down.  Without your guidance, she again dips her whole hand in the water, this time the sink rather than the bathtub.
>She reaches for you with her other hand, taking hold of your hand.  She closes her eyes tightly and breathes deeply, then exhales (coating you in a fine mist in the process).
>To her delight, she's managed to keep her hand in the water the whole time.

>Emily manages to keep her hand submerged for nearly 4 minutes, to her growing happiness.
>"Anon, I... I can't believe it."
>"I know!  You're making great progress.  Let's take a little break, grab lunch, maybe."
>"Very well, I would rather appreciate a respite, anyway."
>You and Emily head to the parlor, where Blanche is quietly sitting on the sofa, smiling and looking out the window at her garden.
>"Oh, hello!  How goes the therapy?"
>"It is going rather well, thanks to Anon."
>"Great!  I hope you don't mind me lounging on your furniture, Anon."
>"Of course not, make yourself comfortable."
>Blanche nods appreciatively.  Emily takes a seat, demurely folding her hands in her lap with a dainty smile.
>"Anon, do you mind terribly if I ask you a few questions that have been nagging at me?"
>"Of course not, go ahead."
>"Very well.  How long have you been inhabiting this house?"
>"Oh, uh... 5 or 6 years now?"
>"Ah.  How do you like it?"
>"I love it here.  I've always loved these older houses and the history behind them.  It's amazing to live in one."
>"Indeed.  My old home was rather similar, so I understand.  Anon, do you have a musical background?"
>"Afraid not.  The piano came with the house."
>"Oh... a shame.  Thank you for sharing said instrument, Anon.  I took lessons from an early age... I wonder if my old instructor still lives...?"
>Blanche smiles gently.
>"Emily, dear... it's not healthy to wonder and worry about that sort of thing.  Trust me, you'll be much happier if you don't think about it."
>"...perhaps you are correct.  Thank you, Blanche.  ...may I ask you something as well?"
>"Yes?"
>"Do you... do you suppose it would be safe to summon that unknown spirit if the need arose?"
>"Well... there's a banish method listed, yes?  If the need arose, I think it would be alright.  Just... use caution, as when dealing with any spirit."
>"Thank you, Blanche."

>"Anon, do you think it prudent to summon that spirit?"
>"Honestly, no. You're making great progress.  It'll take a while, but I don't see any reason to abandon your therapy now."
>"Very well. I must admit, despite my fears, I agree.  Though it is good to know that such an option exists."
>"True. Thanks, Blanche."
>"My pleasure!"
>"By the by... Blanche, what can you tell me about your summoning?  The site isn't all that detailed."
>"Oh!  Well, once they reach a certain 'age,' spectres can be summoned by following a simple ritual involving items that represent their two affinities and something more personally associated with them."
>"So, in your case, I used a leaf, a trowel... and a bullet casing?"
>"Err, y-yes.  Well.  The leaf of course is my nature affinity.  The trowel is my love of gardening."
>"And the bullet...?"
>"...sigh.  Alright, alright.  My second affinity is... firearms."
>"Really?"
>"Yes, really.  I'm not proud of it, nor do I make use of it, but I have it."
>"...sorry for bringing it up."
>"No, no... it's fine.  I should have been more open about it.  I was fatally shot in life, so... that became one of my affinities.  Rather at odds for a pacifist, no?"
>"How does that work, anyway?"
>"Oh, I can manipulate guns and bullets... nothing I particularly care to do, mind you.  I am content to hone my nature affinity."
>"I understand."
>Emily puts a hand to her chin.
>"So... eventually I will become summonable?"
>"Well, yes, but one can opt out, more or less."
>"Ah, splendid.  I wonder what items would summon me...?"
>"Let me see... for you?  Some bottled water, something to do with storms, and something musical."
>"Aye, that makes sense."
>"Speaking of music... Emily, do you play piano?  I overheard you possessing the instrument earlier."
>"I do.  Would you care to hear a composition of mine?"
>"I'd love that!"
>Emily nods and heads over to the piano.  Rather than her melancholy Elegy for the Rain, she plays a more upbeat, yet still elegant tune.
>"I never named this one... but I believe I shall call it Sunlight After the Storm."
>"A lovely name."
>Emily nods, and plays her song through as Blanche smiles.

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7H569skHkE]

>Emily politely curtsies after finishing her song, to Blanche's applause.
>"That was wonderful, dear.  Keep at it, music is such a wonderful talent!"
>"Thank you.  I have been practicing piano for a long time... I'm happy to see that you enjoyed my composition."
>Emily smiles and daintily crosses the room, settling back in the same chair as before.
>"Blanche, thank you for coming here and helping Emily out.  Can I ask how long you'll be staying?"
>"I can stay as long as I like, and I am NOT leaving until this dear is cured!"
>Blanche hops up and runs over to Emily, pulling the cat into a hug, then gasps and blushes green, smiling sheepishly.
>"Oh, err... that is... i-if you WANT me to stay, dear.  Anon, as my host, I won't stay unless you allow me to."
>"Of course I want you to stay.  You've already done a lot for Emily and I, we'd really appreciate your support through this therapy."
>"Well, alright!  I'll stick around and offer what help I can, then."
>Blanche hugs you too, the scent of springtime reaching your nose as her warm body presses against you.

>Chuckling warmly, you reciprocate Blanche's gesture.
>It's surreal... she feels like springtime.  Like a warm, sunny afternoon.  Unlike Emily, it feels as if she gives off a radiant heat.
>Hm.  That must be related to their affinities.  Emily is perpetually cold and damp like a rainy evening, Blanche is sunny and dry like a spring day.
>These spirits are increasingly fascinating...
>"Say, Blanche, Emily... do you two personally know any other spirits?"
>"Ah, no.  I have rather kept to myself in my death..."
>"A few.  Though, the only one I'm certain about how to get in touch with is Jackie, and you already know about her.  I remember that Cosmonaut, the poor dear, but... what was her name again...?  Well, either way, she opted out of being summonable.  Preferred to stay in solitude.  Erm... let me think... if I'm honest, dear, my memory is acting up again.  I can't seem to recall anyone else at the moment."
>"That's fine, Blanche.  Emily, I understand.  I was just curious."
>"You're not the first, you won't be the last!  I've often met mortal folk who are amazed by spirits.  Warms my... well, I would say it warms my heart, but it's a tad late for that, isn't it?"
>The deer giggles at her own little joke.

>"So, Blanche, what are some types of spirit besides spectres?"

>"Let me think.  Poltergeists are the weakest of spirits, literally nothing more than manifestations of the deceased's will and emotions.  They're barely aware, the poor dears.  Spectres, like Emily and myself, are fully corporeal, but may duck into inanimate objects.  Phantoms may possess any object, even living beings, but experience discomfort and even nausea if inhabiting an object that isn't affiliated with one of their affinities; they cannot manifest a corporeal form.  Revenants are fully corporeal, and cannot possess objects; they do not have affinities, but because they are completely corporeal, they are stronger, and generally fit into mortal society better.  ...oh!  I remember meeting a revenant once... a rather bony girl, she was.  Big fan of puns.  Err, anyway... there are quite a lot of classifications, each one unique."

>"Interesting.  Thanks for explaining that."
>"It's my pleasure."
>"This is all really fascinating to me.  I think... I may summon Jackie, if you think that's alright?"
>"Why, I don't see any issues there.  Jackie is a perfectly safe spirit, barring her tendency to overdo mechanical upgrades sometimes.  A bit brash, but ultimately a sweet girl."
>You nod and gather materials.
>Let's see.  A wrench, some motor oil, and... anything leather, apparently.  Hm.
>After gathering the materials, you perform the prescribed ritual.  Seconds later, the room fills with a metallic grey light.
>There's a loud series of clinks and jingles as Jackie strolls into your parlor, the metal on her boots glinting.  She grins cockily and tips up her cap, revealing irises that look almost chrome.
>The possum hangs her leather jacket on a chair, hastily adjusting her black t-shirt, then flops down in the same seat. Her shirt, pulled taut over a modest bust, reveals her midriff, as well as a long black tire track crossing her stomach.
>"Howdy."

>"Hi there.  You must be Jackie, right?"
>The spectre nods.
>"Yup.  That's me, alright.  Need something, or did ya just want to shoot the shit?"
>"Well, uh.... let's just get introductions out of the way first."
>"Alrighty then.  Fire away."
>"I'm Anon, this is Emily, and this is-"
>"BLANCHE!"
>Jackie leaps from her seat and dashes over to the deer, playfully slapping her on the back.
>"Good ta see ya!  Whatcha been up to?  Ah, save it, I know the answer anyway: gardenin."
>Blanche chuckles warmly.
>"That's right."
>Jackie stretches and walks over to you, extending a hand.
>"Put er there, Anon."
>Upon shaking her hand, it becomes obvious that Jackie is quite literally as tough as iron.  Her skin has absolutely no give to it, making it feel very much as if you were shaking a statue's hand.  Compared to Emily and Blanche, her temperature is pretty average.
>"Attaboy."
>She socks you on the shoulder; it feels like she hit you with a brick...
>"So!  What's the story here, eh?"
>"Well, Miss Jackie-"
>"UGGGH.  Cut the 'Miss' shit, alright?  Can't stand that."
>"O-oh.  My apologies.  Jackie, I am suffering from a negative affinity, and Blanche has been offering aid.  We were hoping perhaps you could also give us some advice?"
>"Yeowch.  Negaffinities suck ass.  I knew a guy who had one with fire.  Poor bastard fried himself every time he opened his eyes.  Uh, anyway.  Best way to handle it is to man up and face your fears."
>"Ah, well, I have been working on that."
>"Good.  But, uh, if ya get sick of that shit like my buddy Bernie did, there's other fixes."
>"Such as?"
>"Get in touch with someone with a shit-ton of mojo, they can do all kinds'a shit.  One of em fixed Bernie's fire, anyway."
>"I see.  Thank you."
>"Yeah, yeah. No prob, Em."

>"So, when you say 'shit-ton of mojo,' you mean like... a medium?"
>"Naw.  Hell, technically YOU'RE a medium now, and you ain't got no more mojo than that chair.  What I'm talkin is spiritual energy.  You need to get yer hands on some spirit with a hell of a lot of that to reverse a negaffinity.  I'm talkin something above spectres."
>"What kind of spirit helped Bernie?"
>"Uhh... aww, hell, I don't remember what he called himself.  I wasn't there at the time.  Somethin stronger than all of us put tagether."
>"Hm.  COULD we summon a bunch of weaker spirits to get that kind of mojo?"
>"Shucks, probably?  Beats the hell outta me, pal.  You'd need a lot more'n what we got right now."
>"How dangerous would a spirit that strong be?"
>"Hell, you wouldn't last a second if they wanted ya dead.  But, that's the case fer us too.  You mortal folks ain't real sturdy, heh."
>"That's true. Know anything about that phantom on the summon list?"
>"Huh?  Which'n, the quiet one?  Yeah, I know a little.  Shy gal.  Wouldn' hurt a fly."

>"I see.  Blanche?  Emily?  Do you think it's safe?"
>"Well, dear, if Jackie says she's safe, and the site says she's safe, I suppose it'd be fine.  But, if you'd rather go through the rest of Emily's exposure therapy, you should probably do that before summoning her."
>"Anon, I believe it will be fine.  I... do not know if I can conquer my fears.  I know you believe in my ability to do so, however.  Ultimately, as you are the summoner, the decision falls upon you."
>"Hm.  I see.  Does anyone know anything about her affinities or anything?"
>"Well, lemme think.  I reckon she's summoned with a scented candle, any piece'a cloth, and any amount'a money.  So... whatever y'all can gather from that."
>"Thank you, Jackie, dear.  Hm.  Perhaps she works with candles and money?  Or... hm."
>Hm indeed.
>"I'll think about all of this... in the meantime, Jackie, how long would it take for you to install floor drains in the house, just in case we can't fix Emily's water problem?"
>The possum chuckles heartily.
>"Boy, I could have that done in no time.  But, I ain't gonna do it till I know ya need it.  No sense'n messin up a perfectly good floor."
>"Thanks."

>"How about some lunch while we think this over?  ...CAN you three even eat?"
>"Of course, dear.  We don't NEED to, but... it's nice to have a little comfort food every now and then."
>"Gotcha.  What are you girls in the mood for?"
>"Eh, not hungry, pal.  Thanks, though."
>"Hmm.  I don't suppose you'd mind if I made myself a fresh salad from your garden, would you?"
>"I am not hungry either, myself.  I would rather like a glass of milk, if you don't mind."
>"Easy as pie.  Blanche, help yourself, you grew that garden."
>The deer chuckles with delight and dashes outside.  Jackie stretches and stomps off to the kitchen.  Emily patiently waits for the mechanic to get to her seat, then stands and elegantly strides after her.
>You quickly fix yourself a sandwich, pouring Emily her drink of choice. She thanks you, then takes a sip, barely opening her mouth to do so.  A tiny, but genuine smile spreads across her face.
>"Ah.  I haven't had a nice drink of milk in years... thank you, Anon."
>"You're very welcome."
>Blanche returns from the garden, carrying an armload of vegetables.  She whistles a jaunty tune while fixing her lunch, pausing occasionally to talk.
>"You know, Anon, dear: it's awfully sweet of you to go through so much effort to make us comfortable.  And all the work you're doing for Emily... you're such a thoughtful young man."
>"Indeed, I cannot thank you enough, Anon."
>Jackie fakes a yawn, winking.
>"Yeah, yeah, Anon's the best, whoo-hoo."
>She playfully sticks her tongue out.
>"I'm just screwin with ya.  I ain't been around ya long enough yet."
>"It's fine.  I hope you like it here too."
>"Heh.  Well, so far I gotta say this ain't the WORST house I've been called to."
>"Thank you."
>"Heh.  Don't mention it."

>Blanche smiles expectantly at Jackie.

>"Well...?  What was the worst summon you ever answered?"

>"UGH, shit.  You really gonna make me tell it?  Fine, fine.  The stupid sack'a shit that summoned me didn't even know what was wrong with his truck, told me ta figure it out.  So, I give the whole thing a once-over; nuthin.  Look it over again; nuthin.  Tell the asshole there ain't anything wrong, he starts bitchin and moanin about me being 'lazy.' I looked again, still nuthin.  Dragged his sorry ass with me, SHOWED him nuthin was wrong.  Turns out, the jackass didn't have a problem with that truck; he wanted me ta fix his bratty-ass kid's RC truck.  Son of a bitch didn't bother to tell me till I worked up a hell of a sweat.  Kid starts screechin and fussin at me, pullin my ears and tail and shit.  Little asshole even tried to steal my jacket!  So, I fixed the little shit's toy, alright.  Y'ever seen what kinda damage a piece'a shitty plastic will do to a wall when it's goin 50 miles'n hour?  Heheheh.  Best part is the bastard's wife grounded the kid for it.  Ah, man.  That day sucked ass, but at least I got the last laugh."
>Blanche chuckles, and Emily smiles politely.  You nod, having come to a conclusion about the phantom.
>"Good story, Jackie.  Ladies, I have a plan.  We won't summon the phantom just yet.  I think Emily can keep progressing in her therapy first.  Jackie?  Think you can build me something?"
>The possum's chrome eyes widen.
>"Hell. Yes.  Tell me whatcha need, I'm itchin ta work anyway."
>"Well, here's the idea..."


>A handful of hours of hard work later, Jackie proudly presents the machine you asked for.
>The pool can full and drain water to varying depths, can emulate currents, and generally works as the perfect tool for Emily's exposure therapy.
>The mechanic wipes sweat from her brow, spitting what looks like oil into your yard with a grin.
>"There ya go, pal."
>"Wow, thank you."
>"Shoot, don't mention it."

>"Alright Emily, we should probably see about getting you a swimsuit first.  ...how does that work, anyway?  Spirits having possessions?"
>"Hm?  Ah, well, we may keep them in a sort of... spirit realm, I suppose you could call it.  I actually own a bathing suit, though I never used it in life... pardon me."
>Emily vanishes into the nearest wall.  After a short delay, she sticks her head back out, blushing bright blue.
>"N-now, this was a gift.  Please do not think less of me for how revealing it is."
>"I'm sure it's fine."
>She sighs and steps out of the wall, revealing an old-fashioned, pinstriped bathing suit.  Despite her concerns, it's barely compromising at all.  At the most it merely hugs her lithe figure better than her dress.
>Nonetheless, she remains shamefaced.
>"You look fine, Emily!  Now, do you want to hop in and let us start you off with just ankle deep water?"
>"Mm... I suppose that will be fine..."
>She reluctantly steps into the pool.  Once she's in, Jackie fiddles with a complex control panel.  A whoosh accompanies the water filling the pool up to Emily's ankles.
>She shudders violently.
>"B-brrr.... that's enough, please."
>Jackie nods and stops the flow.  Emily stands ramrod still, her only motions being a constant shiver of terror.
>You reach in and grab her hand, smiling.
>"It's alright, see?  You're fine.  Nothing to worry about."
>"...thank you.  I-I suppose this isn't so bad."
>Jackie grins and presses a button.  Emily squeezes your hand so hard it legitimately hurts as more water flows into the pool.  It stops at her knees, but her reaction would make one think it was hundreds of feet over her head.
>"N-n-n-no.... NO!"
>She panics and leaps from the water, dashing into the house and trailing water.  You give pursuit just in time to see her once again possess the piano.  The instrument shakes so violently that the lid slams shut with a BANG.
>Quiet whimpering of fear emanates from within the piano as clouds gather outside.

>You glare at Jackie as she nonchalantly clomps into the room.
>"Hey.  We're TRYING to help her, not scare her worse.  I will GLADLY dismiss you if you're not interested in helping."
>The possum huffs, rolling her eyes.
>"You reckon I'm not trying to help?  I wanna see her get better too, boy.  Why d'you think I built this thing?  She ain't gonna get over it without pushing the envelope."
>"Even so, that was out of line, and probably set us back in her therapy."
>"Shoot, if I'da known you were gonna bitch about it, I woulda left it be.  Just tryin to speed things up."
>"Well, don't.  Please."
>"Pfff, fine, whatever.  I still wanna help, but I'll back off."
>She grumbles and mutters swears under her breath as she stomps into the other room.
>Blanche sits down at the piano, gently runninf a hand along the trembling keys.
>"Emily, dear?  It's okay.  It can't hurt you, you're safe.  Please come out, dear, we're worried."
>There's a pause, then Emily's voice echoes in your head.  It's obvious that she's in hysterical tears.
>"I-I-I do not wish to be seen at the moment.  Please... let me be."
>"Emily..."
>There's a startlingly loud clap of thunder outside as Emily raises her voice for the first time since you've met her.
>"LEAVE ME BE!"
>Blanche gently steps away from the piano, concern on her face.
>"Anon, dear.  I think you need to handle this."
>You nod and sit beside the instrument, which quietly, idly plays random notes.
>"Emily?"
>Another boom outside accompanies the music abruptly stopping.
>"P-PLEASE, JUST GO!"

>Silent, you hold your seat beside the possessed piano.  Emily sighs and begins idly playing random notes again.
>Gently, you run a hand along the smooth wood of the instrument.  She gasps quietly, but says nothing.  There's a very long, dead silent pause.
>Then, you hear her purring softly.
>It begins to rain outside, at first merely a mild shower, but soon a proper torrent.
>The spectre sighs again, still plinking at random notes.  Her purring continues as you steadfastly rub the piano as a sort of proxy.
>You idly hum the tune she was playing before, Sunlight After the Storm... Emily pauses, then hesitantly launches into a slower, more somber tune you recognize as her Elegy for the Rain.
[https://youtu.be/kFyS1pJgHKs]
>You stop humming and listen to the song in its entirety.  She pauses, then sighs.
>".........Anon.  Why did you not leave me like I asked?"
>"Because I want to be here for you."
>"Ha... a gentleman, through and through.  ...it seems that, if this truly is my only path to singing once again, that I shall never again share my voice with the world."
>She audibly breaks into tears, despite laughing unconvincingly.
>"H-ha... I was foolish to think I could ever conquer my fears.  Too idealistic.  My voice will forever remain as it is: silenced."
>She slowly manifests from within the piano, settling on the stool.  Pure despair shows on her face as tears run down her cheeks.
>"...I apologize.  It isn't becoming of a lady to leave such burdens on her host.  I-I should take my emotional issues and depart.  I have bothered you long enough."
>"Emily, no.  You aren't bothering anyone.  You have a deep-seated, rational fear of water.  You CAN get over it.  You just need to trust yourself."
>She sighs and buries her face in her hands for a moment, then lurches forward, wrapping around you in a damp, tearful embrace.

>You hold her tightly until she stops crying.  Emily sighs and wipes her eyes.
>"I again apologize for my outbursts.  I suppose I am rather too emotional for my own good."
>"Don't apologize.  Just smile and shake it off.  There's always next time."
>Panic immediately returns to her face.
>"N-no..."

>"Easy now, Emily.  What happened back there won't happen again.  I talked to Jackie about it. This is YOUR fight, you should set the pace you're comfortable with."
>"...thank you.  I... no, no.  I mustn't."
>"Hm?"
>"Ah, nothing."
>"Emily?"
>"...I was... tempted to ask you to summon the phantom.  But that request is borne of selfish fears.  You are making such a grand effort for me, I should not attempt to circumvent this therapy with spiritual trickery."
>"Don't be afraid to ask for things.  You're my guest, and more importantly my friend.  I want to help you with whatever you need help with."
>"..."
>She hugs you again.
>"...Anon, I daresay you are the kindest person I have met in my undeath.  It warms my... err, lack of heart to be in the company of such a patient, caring gent.  Thank you, Anon.  For everything."
>"You're welcome, Emily."
>"I will endeavor to continue with your therapy, if you desire.  Though, if you decide to summon aid, I will support that decision as well.  Ultimately, the choice is yours."

>"Well, Emily, this is YOUR therapy.  Your goal to reach.  I think you should make the choice."
>"...truly?  Very well.  ...may I have some time to ruminate?"
>"Of course.  We'll take a break from therapy for the day as well."
>"Thank you.  I WOULD suggest a walk outside, but it seems I inadvertently triggered a rather nasty storm.  Apologies.  Perhaps a quiet afternoon by the fireplace would be nice."
>"Gotcha."
>You quickly get a fire going.  Emily lounges in a rather uncomfortable-looking position, right in front of the hearth.  Blanche takes a seat a fair distance away from the heat, smiling.  Jackie sits with her feet up on the sofa, boots and all.
>You take up your favorite armchair with a sigh of contentment.  Emily gazes into the fire with those melancholy blue eyes.
>"...I am torn.  I want to see this through, truly, after all the effort you have sunk into it.  However... every fiber of my being tells me that I cannot do it.  My fear is simply too much."
>"You don't have to decide right now."
>"I understand that.  I am merely... thinking aloud."
>"If it helps, dear, I support you either way."
>"Mmph.  If I were you, I'd just call in that phantom an' call it a day.  Buuut, tha's just me.  You know what's best for you."
>You mouth a thank you at Jackie, and she nods curtly, a faint smile appearing on her face.
>Emily sighs again.  The flames look almost ethereal reflected in those eyes of hers.
>"...Anon.  It is with... great difficulty that I propose we summon the phantom.  If she proves to be of no help, I shall... I shall return to your therapy methods."
>"Are you sure?"
>"I am as certain of my decision as possible.  Though... it is difficult.  I hope you are not hurt that I wish to pursue an alternate cure, after you have worked so hard...?"
>"Not at all.  I support you 100%.  We'll call her up now."
>It doesn't take long to gather the materials needed.

>...it takes even less time for the room to be filled with a lavender glow and the wafting scent of the flower of the same name.
>No spirit enters the room visibly, but a feminine shadow slowly grows across one wall.  She seems to sit upon the shadow cast by an empty chair, then goes through the motions of dolling up her hair.
>From what you can see, she has a massive, bushy tail, as well as a rather modest figure.  The phantom hums quietly, stopping abruptly when you cough accidentally.

>Blinking a few times in confusion, you clear your throat and greet the phantom.
>"Uh... hello?"
>The shadow jumps, then hesitantly waves.
>"I'm Anon.  Who are you?"
>She quickly fades from view, again humming softly.. An old basket of yarn, (one that came with the house and has been used for decoration since you don't know a thing about knitting), suddenly shudders before violently shooting its contents up into the air.
>The yarn hovers, spiraling in mesmerizing patterns.  Shadows are cast as if two hands were manipulating the fabric strands, and the smell of lavender wafts from the whirling threads.
>"Uhh... I don't understand, sorry."
>"She's shy, Anon, dear.  Don't you recall?  She hasn't ever shared her name, the poor dear."
>The phantom plays with the yarn for a bit, then twirls it around at blinding speeds.  In seconds, a yarn doll of Blanche is bobbing in place.  The deer applauds happily as the doll is pitched to her by an unseen force.
>"Oh my!  Thank you, dear.  That's very sweet of you."
>The phantom shadow appears on the wall next to Blanche.  Where her cheeks would be, the shadow seems to take on a reddish hue.  She gestures bashfully, as if to say "think nothing of it."

>"Oh, sorry to be so forward, ma'am.  If you'd rather not share your name, that's fine.  But, let me introduce my friends: Emily, Blanche, and Jackie."
>The shadow nods politely, then slowly fades away again.  Her humming seems rather nervous.
>"Is something wrong?  We're not gonna hurt you."
>She pauses, then resumes her humming; it seems no less frightened than before.
>"Err... would you like some paper to write on, or something?"
>She temporarily appears on the wall just to shake her head shyly, again "blushing." Again, she vanishes.
>"Be patient, Anon, dear.  Some spirits are just bashful."
>"I understand.  Miss Phantom, please, take your time.  Make yourself comfortable.  Is there anything I can do to help you settle in?"
>She appears sitting in the chair's shadow again, holding up what appears to be yarn and some knitting needles.  She quietly knits in peace, humming serenely with a slight tremble in her voice.
>The air fills with the scent of clean linens as a faint white glow settles across the room.

>Remembering what was needed to summon her, you collect and light some scented candles for the phantom.  Once the room is filled with the scent of mulberries, a "smile" seems to appear on her face; it seems to simply be a lighter, smile-shaped patch of shade where her mouth should be.
>Her shadow slowly becomes the same deep purple hue as the candles themselves as you hear her inhale deeply, then sigh happily.
>You turn to face her, as does Emily.
>"So, ah... is this good?"
>The phantom nods happily, not looking up from her knitting.
>"Great.  This was always my grandmother's favorite scent of candle."
>She makes a <3.
>There's a pause, then a quiet wheeze from the shadow, who continues to knit undisturbed.
>"Are you alright?"
>She nods and waves a hand dismissively, despite a faint cough escaping her.
>"Well... okay."
>Emily smiles politely at the phantom.
>"It is good to have you here, ma'am.  May I ask what your affinities are?  I assume one is fabric."
>The shadow nods and holds up her phantom yarn.
>"Ah, as I thought.  The other is...?"
>She gestures to the air around you and sniffs again.
>"...is it... scent?  Candles?"
>Your newest guest claps her hands happily, holding up one finger and nodding.
>"Ohh, I see.  That explains the linen scent earlier.  Thank you, ma'am, for answering."
>She nods politely.

>"So, uh, would you like me to get you a drink or anything?  ...CAN you drink or eat?"
>She holds up a hand, then her shadowy arm reaches across the wall, plucking the shadow of Emily's glass of milk.  The phantom reels it in and takes a swig of the shadowy liquid, nodding happily.
>"Ohhh.  Neat!  ...ma'am, are you sure you're okay with being here?  I can send you home if you want..."
>She shakes her head rapidly.  A quiet voice issues from the wall.
>"No, no, no; I like it here."
>Immediately, she claps a hand over her mouth, "blushing" in her strange way.  She returns to knitting, cheeks still shaded a tomato red.
>Emily smiles patiently.
>"There is no need to be so shy.  You have a lovely voice."
>Flustered, the phantom hides her face with her hands.  Her blush intensifies to the point it looks like your wall has been painted red where her cheeks are.
>"Now now, dear; take your time!  We would appreciate if you'd listen to Emily's problem, however."
>The phantom cups a hand over her ear, as if to listen.
>"Well, ma'am, I am suffering a negative affinity.  More specifically, water issues from my mouth should I attempt to make a sound."
>There's a sharp intake of breath, another wheeze, then a murmur of sympathy.
>"Is there any way you might be able to aid me?"
>The shadow puts a hand to her chin thoughtfully, then ever so slightly nods.  She almost immediately blushes again, hiding her face once more.
>"Splendid!  Could you elaborate a little?"
>She gestures as if to speak, but immediately covers her mouth again.

>"Take your time, miss.  We're not in a hurry, sorry if we're rushing you."
>She makes no sounds, but blushes harder.
>"Do you want some way to talk nonverbally?  Like, pen and paper?"
>She shakes her head, coughing.
>"...are there too many people in here for you to be comfortable?"
>Another head shake.
>"Well, okay.  Just let me know if you need something."
>There's a sigh, then a deep breath.  Hiding her face, she speaks.
>"S-sorry... oh dear, I'm doing it again... you're all upset with me..."
>"Nonsense.  Nobody is upset.  Thank you for speaking up."
>"EEP!  S-sorry... I-I just... get so shy... I was this way in life too..."
>"That's alright. Do you feel like sharing your story with us?"
>"S-sorry I haven't shared sooner... my name is Anna.  I-I... oh dear..."
>She coughs a few times, shuddering.
>"Sorry about that... I worked in a candlemaker's shop.  But... my passion was working with cloth.  I-I wanted to be a tailor, like my mother... b-b-but it didn't work out like that."
>She blushes again.
>"O-oh... sorry, I'm rambling..."
>"You're fine.  Please, go on."
>"...my family was r-rather poor.  We barely had the money to live... s-so I came up with a plan.  I-I-I... I went out to find a wealthy family with an unmarried son..."
>Another hacking, wheezing cough interrupts her.
>"S-sorry.  I found a noble family with a single heir.  H-he found me... lovely, but was disgusted by my heritage.  I-I'm a skunk, y-you see...  He feared I would f-foul up his home..."
>She sniffles.
>"...he loved the scent of mulberries.  I-I am allergic to them, but wanted to please him so he might m-marry me... I bought every mulberry candle my e-employer made, gifting them to the heir.  He... he m-married me and gave my family a better life..."
>She sighs, then wheezes loudly.
>"O-one day, though, we ran out of candles.  My employer was gone on a-a trip... I panicked.  I-I tried to make my own candles..."
>She chokes up a bit, but manages to finish her story.
>"I-I-I... underestimated how allergic I truly was to those berries..."
>Anna pulls her tail in front of her, hiding behind it.
>"S-s-sorry... I talked for entirely t-too long..."

>"Anna, please calm down.  You aren't bothering anyone."
>"S-sorry..."
>"For what?  You're fine.  I asked for your story, you shared it.  Simple as that."
>"...you're... not upset?"
>"Not at all."
>She releases her tail, still seeming nervous, but a little less so.
>"T-thank you... sorry to burden you with my past..."
>"It's fine, really."
>"...I am just thankful that, even now, my family l-lives better than they did when I was born.  Th-thank you for the donation, I-I-I hope it's okay I sent it along to m-my descendants...?"
>"Of course.  I hope it helps them."
>"O-OH!  Th-thank you.  I-it will..."
>Blanche speaks up.
>"My, my, dear.  It's good to see you open up a bit.  May I ask... how long have you been a phantom?"
>"A-ah, I don't know the exact number of years... sorry.  I believe I passed away in 1600...?"
>All three spectres' jaws drop.
>"Anna, dear; you've... you've been dead for over 400 years?"
>"S-sorry... I should have counted that out for you... but, I-I suppose I have."
>You smile patiently.
>"...Anna, is it possible for me to give you a hug?"
>She blushes again.
>"A-ah!  ...p-perhaps if I..."
>Her shadow meanders over to a wool blanket, then vanishes into it.  The blanket animates, then swoops towards you hesitantly, Anna's stuttering apologies emanating from it.
>The blanket stops, whirls around, and slowly, vaguely takes on the shape of the woman Anna's shadow depicts.  It's a rather crude cloth shape, but it'll do.
>You hug the blanket doll, noting that you can actually FEEL Anna as if she were there...

>The phantom sighs happily.
>"I-I'm not used to this... s-sorry..."
>"Used to what, hugs?"
>"Y-yes.  People normally s-summon me and leave me be."
>"Is that what you prefer?  If that makes you more comfortable, I can leave you alone."
>"N-n-no... I-I like this... s-sorry if it's a burden on you."
>"You're fine, Anna.  I promise."
>"Th-thank you."
>"I do want to ask how you're doing this, though."
>"O-oh, it's my affinity: cloth.  My o-other one is, ah, s-scents."
>"Interesting."
>"I can c-control cloth... or fill the a-air with something nice.  Mulberry is still-"
>She coughs loudly, the blanket doll lurching violently.
>"...s-sorry.  Mulberry is still my f-favorite..."
>"I see.  I thought that was your husband's favorite?"
>"EEP!  E-err, well, I-I grew to love it too..."
>"I see.  Anna, you said you could help with Emily's problem?"
>"O-oh, yes.  I have seen many negative a-affinities in my undeath.  I-I believe... we can f-fix it.  It will take time, th-though.  S-sorry!"

>"Don't apologize!  Thank you for being willing to help us."
>"Y-y-you're welcome..."
>"So, what do we need to do?  How long will it take?"
>"A-ah, well... by exposing a spirit t-to enough spiritual energy, i-it is possible to nullify said affinity... t-there's only one problem..."
>"What's that?"
>"...t-the sheer amount of energy needed m-means it would take days of constant ex-exposure... W-with the level of energy here, I-I think... 4 d-days?  S-sorry..."
>"4 days isn't bad.  How do we expose her, exactly?"
>"W-well, our presence alone h-helps.  Using a-an affinity produces energy... E-Emily will have to manually a-absorb it, however."
>"Oh?  How do I do that, Miss Anna?"
>"I-it's simple enough, I'll teach you.  T-the main drawback is th-that this is not a comfortable p-process..."
>"Meaning...?"
>"Y-you will feel rather i-ill.  It will g-get worse and worse until y-you finally have the energy to c-cast off your condition.  S-sorry..."
>"...I understand."
>"Th-that is the method I have used.  I-I assure you it works... b-but it does have drawbacks, as mentioned."
>"Thank you for telling us.  Emily, do you want to think it over?"
>"Please."
>"Alright.  Anna, I think I have some mulberry jam in the kitchen, would you like to have it?"
>"A-ah!  I-I'm allergic, sorry..."
>Jackie tips her hat up.
>"Hey, now.  You're allergic to em, yeah?  Then why is that yer favorite scent?"
>E-eep!  W-well, my husband loved it..."
>"Not what I asked, Miss."
>"...I-I love them because he loved them..."
>"C'mon now.  Surely there's somethin' you like that don't make you wheeze and cough."
>"...w-well... I do rather like... l-lavender..."
>"Well, why don'tcha fill the place with that?"
>"...th-that would be rude.  Besides, n-nobody likes it..."
>"Huh?  Whatchu talkin' about?  I love that shit."
>"...w-well, he hated it...."
>"And?  He's dead now, lady.  If you like it, why not enjoy it?"
>"I-I...."
>There's a pause, then the air takes on a light purple hue for a moment.  The unmistakable scent of lavender fills the room.

>"See?  Ain't ya happier now?"
>"...I... I-I had never thought of it that way..."
>"Anna, is this the first time you've ever had someone ask what YOU want?"
>"I.... s-suppose so. S-sorry... I am so used to doing what others want... liking what others like..."
>"Well, what ELSE do you want?  Don't be shy, just tell me."
>"...c-could I have the rest of that yarn, i-in the basket?"
>"Of course."
>"Th-thank you... a-are you sure?"
>"Absolutely.  It's all yours."
>"Th-that's very kind.  Sorry to t-take it from you."
>"You're not taking it from me; I offered it to you as a gift."
>"..."
>The crude cloth doll wraps its arms around you.
>"...y-you're very kind.  I can s-see why these young ladies a-are lingering here..."
>"Ha, young?  I'm no spring chicken, dear."
>"O-oh! S-sorry to offend..."
>"No, no!  I consider it a compliment."
>"I-it's just... everyone seems young to me, I suppose.  I-I've seen the world change a lot..."
>"What have you been doing since... you passed on?  I'm fascinated by spirits like you."
>"W-well, between summonings, I simply... wait.  Biding m-my time until I'm needed.  S-sometimes... I manifest in my descendants' home... n-not often, though."
>"Do you have other hobbies?"
>"W-well, I do t-try to gather scrap cloth to work with... I-I've been making a-a quilt..."
>"That sounds nice.  My grandmother loved quilting."
>"I-it soothes me... i-it's the only time I can speak without s-stuttering."

>"Well... would you mind quilting up a little something for us?"
>"I-I'd be delighted to..."
>Anna excuses herself and exits the blanket, leaving it to fall limp.  Her shadow immediately appears on the wall, happily working on a quilt.
>"Ah.... it's nice to work on something like this."
>"Glad you're enjoying yourself.  Say, Anna; have you ever TALKED to your descendants?"
>"A few times.  Mostly to whisper words of encouragement.  It brightens their day to hear that their ancestor is proud of them..."
>"Do they know it's really you?"
>"Hard to say... but it makes them happy, so it matters not to me."
>"I understand."
>Anna nods and falls silent, working.  She soon hums a quiet tune, her voice not wavering at all.
>...thinking about ancestors has you wondering. What about Emily's parents?
>You discretely google her on your phone.
>...seems that her parents were simply... normal Otherworlders.  The two of them passed peacefully in their sleep only a few years apart.
>...
>You decide not to bring it up to Emily.
>The cat spectre sighs, rubbing her temples.
>"Ah, this is a difficult choice... Anon, your therapy should work... but, Miss Anna's method seems less taxing on my nerves.  However, she stated it will make me ill..."
>"Take your time, dear.  We'll be behind you no matter what."
>"Hell yeah!  I'm with Blanche.  I'm here for ya, Em."
>Anna looks up from her quilting.
>"I don't know you very well yet, but I'll do what I can."
>You place a hand on Emily's shoulder.
>"And you know I'm here too."
>She nods, smiling appreciatively.
>"...Anon, may I ask what YOU would do in my situation?"

>"Well... Emily, I want you to know, first of all, that I will support you no matter what you decide to do.  But, if I were you, I would stick to therapy.  I know it's a tough road, but, when you see it through, you'll never be afraid of it again.  If you go through with Anna's method, you'll still have that fear."
>"...I see.  Though this therapy terrifies me, I must admit that my own thoughts are along those lines.  Miss Anna, thank you for offering your aid, but I believe I shall go with Anon's therapy."
>"That's fine, Emily.  I'm just happy to offer my help.. I may not be able to do much, but I'll support you as best I can."
>"Thank you."
>Anna nods and returns to quilting.  Emily takes a deep breath and sighs.
>"Not an easy choice... though I feel I made the correct one.  Shall we continue tonight, or shall we wait?"
>"Up to you."
>"...I... may attempt the ankle-deep pool again.  Jackie, please leave it at that depth this time."
>"Hey, no worries.  Sorry I pulled that shit last time."
>"It is alright, just... please refrain in the future."
>The possum nods and heads outside to the pool she built.  Emily walks through the wall, emerging outside in her bathing suit.
>She blushes blue again when she sees you.  After a moment, she takes a deep breath and wades in.  You take her hand and hold it the whole time.
>Jackie steps away from the controls, winking.
>Emily slowly grins wider and wider as she manages to stay in the water for 5 minutes before calmly stepping out.  A severe tremble betrays her fear, but she does manage to stay rather composed.

>You gently pull the shaking cat into a hug, one she readily reciprocates, her claws gently digging into your back.
>"Th-that... wasn't so bad."
>"You did great.  I'm happy for you!"
>"Thank you, Anon.  Jackie, thank you as well."
>The mechanic nods happily.
>"Now, then... sh-shall we call it an afternoon with this therapy?"
>She pleads with those sorrowful blue eyes.  There's no way you can say no.
>"Of course.  We can pick it up tomorrow.  What do you guys say we head out and do something fun together?"
>"Oh my, that sounds wonderful."
>"HELL YEAH!  Sign me up!"
>"I'd love to, dear."
>"A-ah... I-I'll try to come along too..."
>"Great!  Now, uhh... question is, what can the five of us do together...?"

>"Hmm.  Got it.  There's a record shop downtown; nobody's ever in there, so it should be fine for us all to go."
>Emily brightens up immediately.
>"Oh!  I would very much enjoy that."
>"Thought you might.  Jackie?  Blanche?  Anna?"
>The other three spirits nod and murmur excitedly.
>"Great.  Now, uh.... Anna.  How is this gonna work?"
>"W-well... I'll need something c-cloth to possess..."
>"I have a jacket...?"
>"Mm, n-no, no.... OH!  I-I know!"
>She dives off the wall and into the yarn Blanche doll she made earlier. It springs to life, walking along adorably.
>Jackie snorts and grins.
>"If that ain't the cutest shit I've seen all day."
>Anna's vessel hides its face bashfully.
>With that logistical problem solved, you make your way to the record shop.


>As always, it's empty here.  The store is simply... barren barring shelves of records and a handful of record players.  The cashier waves a hand in apathetic greeting, then returns to reading his newspaper.
>Jackie immediately magnetizes to one of the record players; specifically the one that happens to be OUT OF ORDER.  Oh boy.
>Anna appears on the walls, quietly lingering around you and Emily. Blanche checks the easy listening section, smiling pleasantly as she plays a few of the albums on display.
>Emily follows you closely, only breaking away to check the R section.  She returns with a tearful smile, sniffling and wiping her eyes.
>There's a loud BANG, then a mechanical roar as Jackie "fixes" the busted player.  She drops a record on the turntable, grinning sinisterly at the massive exhaust pipes jutting from her creation.
>She points the trumpet of the record player at the inattentive cashier, laughing to herself quietly.  She drops the needle onto the record...
>...it plays perfectly normally.  Albeit, a little faster than it should, but it's otherwise normal.
>What a relief!

>Wiping sweat from your brow, you turn to your companions.
>"So, anyone see anything they like?"
>"Heh, I reckon we oughta buy this'n.  Sorry 'bout that, couldn' help myself."
>"Hmm.  I'm fine, dear.  Thank you, though."
>"W-w-well... I'm f-fine too, thanks."
>"I'm fine too, Anon."
>"Now, ladies; if you want something, let me know.  I'm more than happy to buy it for you."
>"...well, dear, if you insist, could you perhaps buy this album for me...?"
>"I-I... ...c-could I have this one?"
>"I appreciate your generous offer, but I already have a record back at your home."
>"Alright.  One souped up record player and two albums, then.  (Let's hope this cashier doesn't notice the upgrades...)"
>Luckily, he doesn't.  You check out without any issues.
>Phew.
>With that purchase done, you and your group of ghosts head back outside.  Anna ducks back into her doll body.
>Emily smiles warmly, apparently enjoying herself.
>"Where to now, Anon?  Back home, or do you have something else in mind?"

>"Hm.  There's the old mall across town... do you guys wanna go explore?"
>"That sounds like a helluva time, man, I'm down."
>"Mm, I do agree it sounds fun, dear."
>"I-if you'd like..."
>"Certainly, Anon.  Sounds wonderful."
>With that, you and your companions load into your car.  Good thing Anna can ride inside that doll!
>Jackie practically vibrates the entire ride, rambling at top speed about what all she could do to upgrade your car.  You politely nod at her suggestions, not committing to anything.
>Eventually, you arrive at the old mall.
>This place used to be popular, once.  Now, it's been but an empty skeleton for years.  The city refuses to demolish it for... some reason.
>Apparently a legal dispute with the owner of the place.  Or something.  Not that it matters, anyway.
>Once you walk in, the spirits all look around in wonderment.
>The mall is still painted that pristine, pale blue.  Every storefront is barren, only a few signs remaining in place.  
>The lights that once adorned this place now sit dormant.  Potted plants rot in their vases, unwatered for years.
>The whole mall is just... dead.  Full of a nostalgic air... and melancholy.
>Jackie looks a bit bored, but brightens up upon finding a left-behind segway, courtesy of the security guards.
>Blanche groans in sympathy for the dead plants, touching each one and reviving them.
>Anna looms large, the beam of your phone's flashlight magnifying her shadow.
>Emily quietly paces along, enraptured by the minimalist decor.
>You vaguely entertain the idea of running into another spirit here... nah.
>Surely not, right?
>You wonder if your favorite old store is still intact... what was that place called again?

>Oh yeah, Other Side Sweets!
>That place imported candy and such from Elsewhere, one of the biggest cities in the Otherworld.  Some people claim the owner of the chain used to be a detective when she was younger...
>Either way, the candy is amazing.
>You almost wonder if there's anything left behind...
>...wait, if there IS, it's probably rancid by now.  Duh.
>Oh well, maybe the spirits will enjoy it, seeing as they're Otherworlders.
>You lead them into the clean, white shop, and breathe in the memories.
>Despite the dust, the shop's minimalist decor still looks nice.  Even the display cases don't look bad.
>Some ads for Otherworld brands still linger... including one for Fizz-Eeze cola.  You've never liked that stuff.  Too sweet.
>Your companions take in the sights happily, especially Jackie.
>"Oh shit, they sold Fizz-Eeze here?  That's my favorite!"
>She sleuths around, then triumphantly snatches a hot, expired soda from the fridge.
>"HA!  Gotcha!"
>"Uh, Jackie, that's out of date."
>"And?  I'm already dead, man."
>With that, she downs the whole can in one gulp.  The possum sighs happily before tossing her trash away.
>"Man, that hit the spot."
>Emily smiles at another advert.
>"Oh, I used to love these chocolate bars..."
>Blanche and Anna talk quietly, watching the younger spirits explore.
>You simply reminisce on all the visits you've made here.  Ah.
>Eventually, you leave the ruined shop, spirits in tow.  Jackie greedily hoards an armload of Fixz-Eeze cans, while Emily proudly rations the half-melted candy bar she managed to find deep inside an old cooler.
>Anna takes up residence in a little plush of the shop's mascot: a black fox with nine tails.  Blanche giggles at her friend's adorable vessel, and Anna's own stuttering laughter quietly emanates from the toy.
>"Anon, dear, that was fun. Anywhere else we might like?"

>"How about.. Spencer's?"
>Jackie snorts.
>"HAW!  Yeah right.  I ain't settin' foot in there.  Y'all can go if you want, I ain't interested."
>"Well, alright.  How about the rest of you?"
>"I-I think I'll wait outside, g-get used to this doll."
>"I'll wait with Anna, dear."
>"I shall go with you, Anon."
>You nod and lead the way... only to immediately find the store shuttered and locked.  Oh well.
>You turn and start to walk off when you hear a very quiet, metallic rattling.
>It seems to be coming from inside the store.
>...did some explorer trap themselves in there?
>"Anon, do you hear that too?  Is there a way we could open this?"
>"We'd need the key..."
>"If there is someone inside, we need to help them, do you not agree?"
>"True... can't you just peek inside?"
>Emily nods and pokes her head through the shutter.
>"...it is too dark."
>She pulls away from the shutter.
>"Anon, what should we do?"

>"Here, take my phone and use it to take a look."
>"...Anon, I do not know how to use that.  Plus, I fear my damp fur may make it difficult to use it if you were to show me."
>"Right..."
>The other three spirits approach, and you explain the situation.
>"Huh.  Want me to make y'all a torch or somethin' to cut through?"
>"You could... Anna, can you sneak in and look?"
>"I-I can, but I c-can't see in the dark either."
>"Hm. What if we..."
>Blanche sighs deeply.
>"...I have an idea.  Anon, please step as far away as possible."
>You comply as Blanche points at the lock on the shutter.  As soon as you get an ample distance, she fires a ghostly bullet from her fingertip, shattering the lock.
>"There."
>Thanking her, you nervously open the shutter...
>You shine your light, and see nothing but a few chains dangling from the ceiling.
>There's still a faint metal rattling, though.
>You walk in, confused, until you hear a low, female voice from above you.
>"Well, hello, handsome~"
>You shine the light up, drawing a husky chuckle from the woman.
>Above you, suspended by chains wrapped around her extremities, is an extremely tall, gaunt dog woman.  Her fur is pitch black and of a uniform length.
>Pure white eyes glimmer down at you as she smiles predatorily, licking her lips with a smirk.  She shimmies a bit, sending her rather large chest swaying.

>Extremely concerned for your safety, you back out of the store as fast as possible.
>"Awwww... come back!  I don't bite~ Not hard, anyway."
>You regroup with your companions.
>"Guys, is that another spirit?"
>"Yes, dear.  But I can't get a read on what TYPE she is."
>"What do you think, is she safe?"
>"I-I'm not sure, A-Anon."
>"Can you guys give me backup while I see if she needs to be cut down?"
>"Hell yeah I'll give you backup.  Let's go."
>You re-enter the store, spirits in tow.  The dog smiles again at the sight of you.

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d3_3caMVN3I]

>"Oh, there you are, sugar.  Thought you'd left me~"
>"Uh, do you... need help?"
>"Hm?"
>"You're chained up..."
>She laughs seductively, then seems to lower herself down, dangling farther and farther from the ceiling.  She stops level with you, licking your face with a giggle.
>"There we go, babe.  You were saying~?"
>"U-uh... who are you, anyway?"
>She winks.
>"Baskerville, sugar.  That's all you get.  A girl can't give away EVERYTHING, now can she~?"
>"Okay then... uhh, what sort of spirit are you?"
>"A shade~  Rather like a spectre, but incapable of becoming more or less corporeal than I am now."
>"Huh."
>"Go on, doll, run a hand through me~"
>You hesitantly comply... your hand passes through her body slowly; it feels like you dipped your hand into whipped cream.  The shade lets off a quiet moan, biting her lip.
>"Mm, I love it~ So, what brings a savory cut of meat like yourself here?"

>Something about this shade unnerves you.
>You step back a bit and smile in a friendly manner.  She keeps her eyes locked on you firmly.
>"Hi.  I'm Anon, my friends and I just came here to explore and relax a bit.  We're working on fixing a negative affinity with therapy, and we decided to take a break."
>Baskerville's eyes widen, her pupils narrowing to slits.
>"Ooooh.  Let me see this spoiled spectre."
>Emily hesitantly steps forward.  The black hound immediately shoves her nose in Emily's face, sniffing loudly.  She nods, then backs away with a smug grin.
>"Mm. Storms, water, died of an accidental drowning.  Correct~?"
>"That's... yes ma'am, it is."
>"HA!  It's rare that I'm wrong.  What can I say?  I know my stuff.  Now then, your water affinity is malformed, eh?  Poor little catfish filet. Lucky for you, I may be able to do something about that~"
>You step in.
>"Really now?  How can you help us?  Is there anything you need US to do?"
>She licks her lips again as soon as you step forward.
>"My, a tender morsel, aren't you?  Offering to help little old me.  How delectable.  Now, I MAY be able to straighten out this problem... but there's one problem.  See, I've been here a long time..."
>She lays a hand on your shoulder roughly, manic eyes meeting your gaze.
>"...and I'm famished.  If you could do something to sate my hunger... well, perhaps I'd be inclined to lend a bit of sizzle to your friend's life? Heehee."

>Hmm.
>"Okay, you're losing me a little.  What exactly are you offering to do to Emily, and what exactly do you want from us?"
>She rolls her eyes, still smiling.
>"Crepes, you're not very good at listening, huh?  I can fix her water affinity so she can use it without it malfunctioning. All I need is something to eat. I'm absolutely wasting away here!"
>That she is, apparently.
>"Well, okay.  How can you fix her problem?"
>"Ha!  It's easy as boiling water.  I've been studying this kinda thing for a looong time.  It'd be pretty sad if I couldn't iron out a problem this simple."
>"Okay... and you just want food?  What about those chains?  Don't you want to be freed?"
>"Hm?"
>She moves her limbs about, listening to the chains rattle with a satisfied expression.
>"These are part of my affinity, silly.  I'd figured you would've caught onto that by now.  Besides... I kinda like this~"
>"Ooooookay.  What's, uh... what's your other affinity?"
>"Why, it's food.  I must say, I struck it lucky with my two affinities... heheh.  Though the deck may have been a bit stacked.  Anyway, those are my conditions. Help me sate my hunger, and I'll see what I can do for this little appetizer of yours~"

>You gulp nervously at her disconcerting smile and step farther away.
>"Uhh... it's not ME you want to eat, right?"
>"Hm?  Oh, no.  No, no, no.  You'd be much too rich for my tastes.  No, I merely want a simple meal."
>"Okay.  I'll see about getting something delivered..."
>"Take your time, sugar.  I'll be hanging around~"
>You quickly place an order to deliver some food to a gas station within walking distance of the mall.  Baskerville nods appreciatively.
>"I can't wait; it's been a while since I had a decent meal..."
>"I imagine so.  How did you end up like this, anyway?  What's your story?"
>"Heheh.  I was a chef, once.  But, ah, it turned out that life was not for me.  My love of sampling my own creations was pretty at odds with my determination to keep a slim figure.  I abandoned my family's restaurant in favor of shedding the extra pounds I collected while working there.  I retreated into my studies, following a lead an acquaintance shared with me..."
>Her previously flirtatious lilt vanishes, replaced with a more serious tone.
>"...I became obsessed with spirits.  I studied them and their mechanics day and night.  Nothing else held such an allure for me.  I lost interest in my family.  I cut ties with friends.  My research was all that mattered.  Then, heheh... then it happened.  They told me I had but months to live.  Fools.  I knew that I had a chance of becoming a spirit, nay, a RIGHT to become one.  Had I let my newfound illness claim my life, I would've ended up with an affinity for that ailment.  I refused to allow that to happen.  So... I hatched a plan."
>A rather fervent, disturbingly enthusiastic edge creeps into her voice.
>"Rather than lie down and let the sickness claim me, I would dive into spirithood on my own terms.  I indulged myself with one final homecooked meal, then chained myself to my desk.  There, I sat.  I retreated fully into my work, allowing myself to waste away with silent dignity.  And it worked.  Heheh.  Thanks to my calculated demise, I became a powerful shade bearing two affinities I could appreciate.  Chains, to grant me a versatile strength that could be used in a myriad of ways, and food, to remember my guilty pleasure in a manner that would never ruin my figure."
>She cackles maniacally, then slowly calms down.
>"Heheh... and that, is my story.  I never stopped studying, either.  If it pertains to spirits, I know it."

>"I... see.  I don't agree with that decision, but it wasn't my choice to make."
>"I understand."
>She seems to calm down a bit, losing her over-eager tone.
>"It was a calculated risk, and it paid off.  Because of that, I have been able to advance my work to unprecedented levels.  Heheh.  I assure you, Emily is in good hands.  All I need is your trust."
>...DO you trust this woman?
>Hm.  She's spun quite the yarn here.  She DOES seem to know her stuff, and hasn't made any threatening moves...
>But she's undeniably shady.
>She seems a bit too eager to get her hands on Emily.  Her enthusiastic tale of her own demise was unsettling as well.
>...
>You need to think this over a bit.  For now, there's her request to fulfill.
>"So, Baskerville-"
>"You can call me Bask, if you like."
>"Bask.  Do you have any particular favorite foods?"
>She smiles broadly, her mouth watering.
>"Ahhh... though it never really agreed with me, I have always loved chocolate..."
>Emily perks up.
>"Ma'am, would you like this chocolate I found in a candy shop?"
>The black hound's eyes glint with excitement.
>"Y-yes, I would.  P-please?"
>Emily smiles politely and gently hands the candy over.  Baskerville scarfs it down wrapper and all, spitting the paper out afterward.
>"Ahh~ Perfection."
>She lazily grins, thanking Emily.

>"So, what exactly is your method, Bask?"
>"It's a simple process.  I simply RIP the affinity out of her, mold it into a more functional manifestation, then give it back.  It just takes a lot of energy to do, so only a poweful spirit can do it.  Oh... and it's gonna sting."
>"How long will it take?"
>"Two minutes max."
>"Got it.  One thing, though."
>You grab a chain wrapped around the hound's middle and yank her close.
>"If you do her wrong, I will see to it your afterlife becomes hell.  Got it?"
>Bask nods, biting her lip slightly.  You release your grip, letting her drift back into place.
>"Now then.  You said you had a food affinity, how does that work?"
>"Ah, I can affect the taste, textire, or any other attribute of foodstuffs.  I CAN create food too, but, uh, it isn't optimal.  Watch."
>She clasps her hands togeth, then slowly draws them apart, forming a small cake between them.  It's entirely grey, as though any color it had was drained.
>"Take a bite."
>You hesitantly comply...
>...it tastes like nothing.  It's so bland that the flavor defies any other description.
>"See?  I have to manually flavor things, and that gets exhausting.  I don't have a ton of stamina considering my death, so... yeah.  It's nice to let someone else handle cooking."

>Excusing yourself for a minute, you and your companions rush off to collect Bask's delivery.  You return to find the hound nonchalantly chewing on one of her chains.  Her eyes light up at the sight of the food you brought.
>A long, thin tail wags rapidly behind her.
>"Oooh, you delivered!"
>You hand over the bagged meal, and recoil a bit as she practically devours it sack and all, spitting the inedible bits back out.  Bask lets off a contented sigh and rubs her stomach happily.
>"Mm~ Thanks for that. Now for my end of the bargain, right?"
>"About that... Bask, I've been thinking..."
>The shade frowns, confused.
>"What's there to think about?  We had a deal."
>"I know, I know.  But, Emily and I discussed it while we went to get your food... and we were wondering if you could just give us some advice on rehabilitating her instead of performing such a drastic procedure?"
>Bask groans in apparent frustration and disappointment.
>"BAH.  Fine, fine.  I can help with that.  One catch, though..."
>She clamps a hand on your shoulder firmly.
>"You have to take me with you.  You do that, and I'll do everything I know to do for her."
>"Done.  Anything else?"
>"...three square meals a day."
>"Done."
>You shake the shade's hand, then start heading out of the mall.  She lowers herself from the ceiling, walking along the ground with a mass of chains tightly wrapped around her midsection like a makeshift corset.

>When you get to the car, it dawns on you that you simply don't have the room for everyone to ride home.  Bask rolls her eyes with a grin.
>"Heheh.  Watch."
>She unceremoniously floats up to the roof of your car, lays down, and chains herself there, giving a thumbs up.  ...okay then.
>You drive home quickly, thankful it's dark enough out that she should go unnoticed.  Once you arrive, the chained hound lets out a whistle.
>"Nice place you have here."
>You thank her as you lead your ghostly party inside.  It's only when you get to the parlor that the time catches up with you.
>You let out a yawn just as the clock strikes 12.
>"Well, this was a busy day... Think I'll turn in for tonight."
>Blanche, Jackie, and Bask all nod and wish you goodnight; Emily walks closer and gives you a cool, damp hug.
>"Goodnight, Anon.  Thank you... for everything."
>"You're welcome, Emily.  We'll keep working tomorrow."
>She nods happily, then slowly drifts over to the piano, vanishing inside.  Blanche stretches and steps into a potted houseplant, and Jackie takes up residence inside the pool she built.
>Bask simply suspends herself from the ceiling again.
>With all the ghosts situated, you get ready for bed, then lie down.  It's mere moments before you fall asleep, exhausted.
>Hopefully, tomorrow you can make more progress with Emily...

>As you doze, you slip into a dream...
>You are surrounded by your ghostly guests, and they seem... changed.  More eerie.
>Emily's fur, usually damp, now looks positively drenched.  Bits of flotsam like one might see in a polluted river cling to her as her hair seems to float in an invisible current.
>She opens her mouth to speak, only producing bubbles and a horrid strangling sound.  She panics and flails, eventually grabbing you tightly, claws digging into you deeply.
>Blanche smiles blankly as she vacantly tends to a garden of dying flowers.  A massive, ragged hole is blown clear through her torso, with her spine even being visible though it.
>Jackie moodily tinkers away at the underside of a semi truck, her midsection flattened grotesquely.
>Anna remains a shadow, wretching and coughing wildly as she violently struggles for breath.
>Baskerville sits calmly at a desk, reading even as her impossibly frail body seems to grow thinner and thinner as you watch her.
>They all watch you with inscrutable expressions, silent.
>...
>You awaken in a cold sweat.  You wipe your forehead and get ready for a new day, then head downstairs.
>Blanche and Emily sit by the window, amicably chatting.  Jackie lounges on the couch, watching TV.  Anna's shadow lingers on the wall, knitting.
>...but where's Bask?

>You look up, half expecting to see her waiting, but see nothing.
>...wait.  Oh no.
>You rush into the kitchen with dread hanging over you.
>Lying on the floor, in the midst of all manner of trash, is Baskerville.  The hound moans happily, holding a chain between her teeth.
>A quick scan of the room reveals that she's completely cleaned your food supplies out.
>The canine shade rubs her grossly distended stomach happily, eyes shut in gluttonous bliss.
>You are robbed of words for a moment, but feel outrage welling up before long.
>"BASK!"
>The shade flinches, her eyes flying open, then smiles sheepishly.
>"O-oh, uh, morning... I made breakfast, then lunch.  Then dinner..."
>"Bask, you cleaned the kitchen out."
>"So I did."
>"I had enough groceries for the rest of this week!"
>"W-well, I was hungry!"
>"And yet, YOU don't NEED to eat; I need to in order to live."
>She grimaces and slowly rises to her feet, cradling her belly delicately.
>"S.... sorry.  But, you should feel bad too; you're the one who left all that appetizing food out!"
>"Well, I guess I do partly have myself to blame.  That said, this counts as your three meals for every day this week."
>"WHAT?  B-but...."
>"It's only fair, Bask."
>"...."
>She whines pitifully, but nods, hanging her head sadly.
>"Glad we could reach an agreement."
>Not wanting to see her upset, you gently pat the hound atop her head.  She smiles appreciatively, eyes glinting slightly.
>"I'm not mad, but you need to take it easier on the food, alright?"
>"...alright."

>Seeing her remorse, you administer some more gentle headpats to calm her down.  Bask's tail wags happily.
>"I'm sorry, Anon.  I should've controlled myself better."
>"It's alright.  Really.  Just... take it easy, okay?  Groceries aren't cheap."
>She nods vigorously.
>"I'll try harder.  I swear."
>"Thank you.  Luckily, Blanche has been growing some vegetables, so we DO have some food left."
>Bask looks conflicted, biting her tongue as her eyes glint hungrily.
>"W-well, I'm glad there's stuff left for you.  Sorry about that, again."
>You pet her head again, her profuse apologies beginning to endear her to you a bit.  After a while, you head outside to check on the garden...
>...son of a bitch.  She ate all the vegetables too.
>Your anger gets the better of you.  You have a brief shouting match with the heavens above, then head back inside, an oddly satisfied feeling washing over you.
>"Well.  Garden's a bust too."
>"...sorry."
>Jackie grumbles impatiently from the other room.
>"I say cut er open, get yer shit back.  Not like we actually digest shit anyway."
>Bask lets out a frightened yip and dives into the wall, her protruding stomach making it a bit difficult for her to stay fully hidden.

>Sighing in frustration, you absentmindedly run your hand over Bask's bloated midsection, thinking about what she's told you.
>If her hunger is THIS bad, is it actually a sign her food affinity is "malformed" as well?
>And if THAT'S the case, she's obviously not got it under control or cured... which means...
>...she may not be able to help Emily after all.
>Has she told you ANYTHING truthful?  You're starting to really wonder.
>"...Bask.  I need to ask you some things."
>She remains mostly phased into the wall.
>"Yes?"
>"...have you been truthful with me?  About your past and your ability to cure Emily?"
>"Wh- of course!  What makes you doubt me?"
>"Well for starters, there's a pretty big sign that your food affinity is malformed."
>You pat her stomach roughly to illustrate your point.
>"That's not true at all!  My affinities are perfectly formed.  I'm just... hungry.  All the time.  I think it's because I starved to death..."
>"Well, if you can't even control that, how can I trust you to wrangle Emily's broken affinity?"
>"..."
>The hound sighs sadly.
>"...I... I know I messed up.  But, Anon, you can trust me, really. I-I want to help!"

>"...well, if you don't me saying, Bask... you might need some help yourself?"
>"Wh- I-I'll have you know I am a very scholarly source when it comes to spirits!  D-don't you think I'd know if I needed help?"
>"Sometimes it's hard to recognize when you yourself need help."
>"..."
>She falls silent, refusing to respond.  You decide to leave her alone for a moment and consult with the rest of your housemates.
>"Guys... do we trust her to cure Emily's affinity?"
>"Well dear... she seems knowledgable, but the poor thing has no self control."
>"Mm.  Like I said earlier, I'd've already gutted the bitch and took my shit back.  As fer curing Em, I dunno, she might know somethin."
>"I-I-I don't know, Anon... something about h-her..."
>Emily sighs and frowns slightly.
>"She certainly doesn't give an impression of stability and responsibility.  But, she does seem to know some things; she DID intuit my affinities and cause of death."
>"That's true."
>The five of you discuss for a bit, until Jackie groans impatiently.
>"I can't stand this anymore.  I'll be right back."
>The possum stomps over to the wall where Bask's gut still sticks out, then unceremoniously thrusts her hand into the shade's semitangible middle.  She pulls out a whole chocolate bar and nonchalantly takes a bite out if it, shrugging.
>"H-hey!  Those are my favorite..."
>"And?  You ate everything in the house, ya cow; don't get mad at me for reclaiming shit Anon payed for."
>"..."
>Bask steps out of the wall, a mixture of irritation and sheepishness on her face.

As Bask protests, Jackie unflinchingly begins retrieving your groceries from the shade.  In the meantime, you keep talking with Emily.
>"So... I have an idea.  Why don't we have Bask repair your affinity... AND go through therapy for your fear?"
>"Aye... I think that may be best.  Though I long for my voice above all else, I would rather not live in fear either."
>"Exactly.  Are you alright with the pain and such that comes with Bask's method?"
>"...it will be difficult, but yes."
>"I'll be there with you."
>"Anon, could you... hold my hand?"
>"Of course."
>You take her hand into yours, and the two of you approach the once-again-gaunt Baskerville.
>"Bask?  Emily wants you to do the procedure."
>The hound's eyes widen as she grins excitedly.
>"Great!  I really wanted to help, thank you for trusting me."
>She places a hand on Emily's shoulder.
>"Now, Miss Rainier... are you ready?  This is really going to hurt."
>"...I am."
>She squeezes your hand tightly.
>"Okay... hold your breath and close your eyes."
>Emily complies.  Bask takes a deep breath, then plunges her hand into Emily's chest, pulling out a watery mass of an irregular shape.
>Your head fills with screams of pain as Emily squeezes your hand so hard her claws draw blood.  Tears run down her face as her entire body trembles.
>Bask stares at the object in her hand, then pops it into her mouth.  After a moment of chewing, she spots out a perfectly spherical orb of water.  Nodding, she shoves the orb back into Emily's chest, prompting further screams from the cat.
>Only this time, they're not just in your head.
>She gasps for breath, clutching her chest with her free hand, as Bask nods.
>"Well?  Test it out."
>Emily tentatively clears her throat and opens her mouth to speak.
>"........hello?"
>For the first time since you've met her, Emily's voice finally comes out of her actual mouth. Tears fill her eyes as she tackles you into a tight embrace.

>You return her embrace happily, listening to her chuckle with glee.  She pulls away from you slightly with a wide smile, then, before you can react, plants a kiss on your cheek.  Emily gasps at her own display and blushes a vivid blue.
>Her blush intensifies when you return the favor.

>Blanche, Anna, and Bask all let out an AWWWW, while Jackie simply nods, grinning.  You break away from Emily and hug all the spirits, giving Anna time to possess the blanket again so she's not left out.
>You enjoy Blanche's springtime warmth... fight against Jackie's iron hide... take in Anna's lavender aroma... and feel your hands sink into Bask's semisolid form.  You thank them all earnestly.
>"Oh... and the four of you are welcome to stay as long as you like."
>The spirits cheer loudly, smiling.
>Emily embraces all the other spirits, thanking them profusely, then comes along to you.
>"Anon... you've done so much for me, a total stranger, out of the kindness in your heart.  You spent so much of your time and effort on me.  That means the world to me.  Thank you.  Thank you for everything.  Because of you, I can finally share my voice with the world again.  Anon, I want you to know that I don't say this lightly, but... I love you."
>She kisses your cheek again, blushing madly, then does something you've waited days to see:
>She bursts into song.
>Emily closes her eyes and dances across the room with you, performing one of the songs from her album flawlessly.  Her ethereal voice echoes beautifully in your parlor, and even Jackie is moved to tears of joy.
>Once the song draws to its close, she takes a bow as the other spirits provide a round of applause.

>You pull Emily close once more, then plant a kiss on her lips.  Her entire face practically glows a luminescent blue.
>"W-wh..."
>"I love you too."
>She smiles as tears of joy fill her eyes, then hugs you close again.  She coos a wordless tune as she gently sways back and forth with her arms wrapped tightly around you.
>When she eventually releases you, she gently smooths her dress down and wipes her eyes.
>"This... is the happiest I have been in 25 years.  Thank you, everyone.  I love every one of you."
>"Yes, thanks, everyone; we couldn't have done it without your help. Like I said, feel free to stay if you'd like."
>The spirits all nod happily.  Emily turns to you once more.
>"Now then... what do we do now, Anon?"
>"Well, we could try the pool again, if you want... or maybe just test your fixed affinity?"
>"Ah, good point... one moment."
>Emily focuses for a moment, then playfully spits a stream of water into the fireplace, extinguishing the flames with a hiss.
>"Ah-ha!  So it works like that.  Thank you, Miss Baskerville."
>"Heehee, I KNEW it would work!  Hope you like it."
>"Aye, I think I can get used to this.  I am just thankful to have my voice above all else.  I... I am almost tempted to... no, no, nevermind."
>"What is it, Emily?"
>You wrap an arm around her shoulders as she blushes slightly.
>"...I am almost tempted to record a new album."
>"I think we can make something work, if that's what you want."
>She smiles and nods happily.
>"I would very much enjoy that.  But first..."
>She beckons for you to follow her, then walks through the wall between the parlor and Jackie's pool.  You step outside to see her standing in the center of the empty basin, clad in her bathing suit with an expression of determination.
>"Jackie, I want you to fill this to my knees."
>"Gotcha, Em."
>The cat visibly bites her tongue as the water slowly rises.  She starts to tremble slightly once it passes her ankles, but remains still.
>Emily begins to panic in earnest when it finally reaches her knees, but you have a plan.  You wade into the pool and take her hand into yours.
>Her eyes practically glimmer with delight as she slowly stops shaking.

>You stay by her side, even as she continues to tremble a bit.  Holding her hand tightly, you quietly hum a tune to calm her.
>Emily sways gently and sings along, closing her eyes happily.  
>She eventually opens an eye and stops singing.
>"...I believe, with you by my side, I can go farther."
>"Are you sure?"
>"Anon, I have not been more certain of anything in my life nor my undeath."
>"Alright then."
>You nod at Jackie, and she fills the pool to your waist.  Emily whimpers a bit and shakes violently.  She squeezes your hand roughly, trying to sing along with you again.
>She manages to hold out for a while, but eventually shakes her head and clings to you, burying her face.
>"Pl-please, Anon, drain it..."
>You glance at Jackie, and the possum quickly lets the pool empty out.  Emily gasps for breath, shaking and still gripping your hand tightly.
>"....p-perhaps one day I might conquer this.  ...no.  No.  With you, Anon, and you, my friends, I WILL defeat this demon.  I WILL shake off my fears.  I am certain of it."
>"That's the spirit!  We'll take a break for now, though."
>She nods sheepishly and steps out of the pool.

>You and your companions head inside once more, then lounge in the parlor.  For the first time, Emily joins you on the couch, scooting close with a faint blue blush on her cheeks.
>You throw an arm around her and kiss her cheek, making her blush intensify.
>Jackie kicks her feet up, Blanche gently settles into a chair, Anna takes up residence in the shadows, and Bask lounges in a hammock of chains.  You note with a little exasperation that the black hound is discretely munching on a chocolate bar.
>Anna quietly works on her quilt once again, humming a bit to herself.  Blanche lays her hand on a nearby houseplant, idly allowing it to grow and twist around her arm.  Jackie fiddles around with the TV remote, muttering about how it could be improved.
>You clear your throat.
>"So.  Are you ladies interested in... living here, with Emily and I?"
>The mechanic fist pumps.
>"Hell yes.  It'd be awesome to have a place like this to come home to after a summon."
>Blanche smiles.
>"If you'll have me, dear, I'd love to."
>Anna covers her face bashfully with her tail.
>"I-If you d-don't mind... my descendants live fairly close, i-it would be nice to be nearer to them."
>Bask nonchalantly nibbles on a chain, grinning.
>"I'll stay if you want; I'll try to do better about eating everything, heheh..."
>"Well, if you're all interested, consider it done.  I'd be happy to house you all."
>They all thank you profusely as Emily kisses your cheek once more.
>Who would've though that answering that knock on the door would lead to all this?
>You met a wonderful woman with a song in her heart, and, with the help of a cadre of spirits, got her singing once more.  And now?  You went from living alone to having a houseful of quirky roommates.
>As Emily launches into another of her songs, you and the spirits all join in.
>You don't know the words offhand, but that's alright.
>You'll have plenty of time to practice.