fandomtownies | The Perk, Sunday Afternoon

The ghostly yet cheerful songs in Stark's apartment had continued all night despite his best efforts. Every time he walked into another room he heard a tiny voice telling him to "hurry baaaaaack." At least once the sun came up the ghosts stopped. Alas, they were replaced by more raccoons. Possibly the same raccoons from yesterday. They sounded the same, at least, and were singing the same song.

A walk through the park hadn't helped. The raccoons simply followed. A stop at the bakery had involved even more singing and an abundance of boring bread and rolls (like always). Eventually Stark made his way to the Perk where, at least for this moment, there was no singing.

There was a raccoon outside the door, little hand pressed against the glass, watching Stark intently as he sat with a very large and sugary coffee. The raccoon was probably going to sing again soon. For now Stark was enjoying both the brief reprieve and the caffeine.

[Extremely open! Come be weird at an alien or sing to an alien and/or a barista or commiserate about weirdness or comment on the raccoons or just whatever your little heart desires.]

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Summer had just gotten back from a weekend back home, and it didn't take long for her to realize that her weekend back home had fallen on something going on back on Fandom yet again. The raccoon outside of the Perk definitely caught her attention and her wariness before she peeked in through the window herself to see what it was staring at, and, seeing a familiar face, she was just going to...give the raccoon a wide berth on her way through the door.

"Stark," she headed right over, shaking her head, "what in the world have I been missing this time?"

...what in the world was definitely not what she had intended to say.

Stark was very, very relieved that Summer was not singing at him. Bless you, Summer.

"A lot of singing," he said, sighing softly. "The raccoons have been singing songs to me since yesterday. And then the ghosts. There aren't usually ghosts here! And ghosts don't usually sing. But they were in the apartment all night and they were singing all night. I didn't sleep much."

At least the singing had kept him from finding out about the ball. Stark at a ball would have just been weird.

"I wouldn't think so," said Summer, pulling out a chair and inviting herself to sit down, "what with all the ghosts and the singing and everything..."

She gave another wary glance toward the window and the raccoon and she started to feel a little sweat on her forehead when she realized a squirrel had joined it.

Oh, man, Pancakes was probably going to be in a fit when she got home and there had been singing ghosts.

"Does anyone know why?"

"I think it's the island being the island. I hope it's that. Who ever really knows why anything happens here?" Not that the rest of the universe or multiverse always made sense, in Stark's experience, but the weirdness here on Fandom was highly concentrated.

"If it's something else it might not be over soon. If it's just the usual unusualness then it should be done tomorrow. I hope. I would rather not have ghosts every night." He'd really prefer not to have to deal with ghosts at all but it was an occasional occupational hazard.

"Well," Summer offered, "I haven't been back to my place yet, but if it's ghost-free, you can crash there until your ghosts get taken care of? I'm honestly starting to feel a little worried about what I might find when I get there, though..."

"I wonder if they'd follow me there?" Stark mused. "Wouldn't want to subject you to that." The song was very catchy and he was probably going to find himself absently humming it for some time.

"They may be a me problem, not an apartment problem. Not the first ghosts I've encountered. These are the first ones that sang."

"...what did the other ones do?" asked Summer, who was suddenly feeling like, on the scale of what ghosts could be doing, singing might not actually be all that bad, really. In the grand scheme of things.

They could do much worse than singing, it was true. The singing was just so endless!

"Usually they don't do much, when I see them. Or hear them. Sometimes they just don't know they should have crossed over. There haven't really been others here I've seen. Except one when the animals were here this summer. He...exploded. And then put himself back together."

"So...," said Summer, slowly, "you've, like, been some kind of ghost whisperer this whole time and I didn't even know about it?"

To be fair, you hadn't exactly asked, either, Summer. Then again, she didn't exactly ask people about their experiences with ghosts right off the bat.

"We haven't really discussed ghosts before," Stark pointed out. "Why would you know? I don't know about ghost whisperer. Just sometimes, if they're there, I see them or hear them. I'm...attuned to the dying. Or dead, in some cases."

"It's part of all this," he added after a moment, tapping his mask gently with one finger.

"I have been sort of wondering about that," Summer admitted, sparing perhaps a slightly worried glance toward the window, where she was trying her best to not feel like an increasing gathering of squirrels out there was something she needed to concern herself with, "but it seemed rude to just...you know...ask."

Stark followed her glance, noticed the squirrels, and frowned. "Do you think they're going to start singing as well?" Or perhaps a dance routine. Or both.

"I don't mind people asking. I'm used to it."

The Perk, Sunday Afternoon

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