The time of the day when the sun was just below the horizon; the period in the dying day between sunset and moonrise. The diffused light from the sky this early evening was hardly concealing the spectral frame of the young girl as she leaned sorrowfully over a railing to gaze with those dark, mournful eyes out over the ocean. The sparkling waters were a pale cerulean, the moon not yet rising over them and the sun had just sunk below it's surface; she loved this time. But she was dead .. she couldn't enjoy it the way she used to .. The sun no longer warmed her pale face, and the wind no longer lifted her hair. She could not eat, she could not drink, and she could not be happy. The werewolf named Tino had raped her, killed her viciously, and changed everything more than he could ever know. And here she was: terribly, terribly alone.

The almost blue glow of her phantasmal body would snag the eye of someone sooner or later, once the night fell in around her and the light was only enough to brighten her pale self. Corine did not care if she frightened people. She didn't want to, but .. she didn't want to hide herself away in some dusty old house either. The young ghost wasn't the type to shriek 'boo!' at the living .. why should others feel as frightened and sad as she did? The only one that deserved to be frightened and harmed was Tino. How many other women had he raped and killed? And what the hell was he?! Corine let out a soft sob and buried her face into her nearly transparent hands. No one could free her of this eternal pain and fear. Corine was a ghost, and she couldn't believe it ..

Normally, Alan would have noticed her right away, because there's a lot of physical trauma that she hasn't addressed involved in being raped and murdered. Unfortunately, she has no body with which to feel that trauma, and he's only empathic in a purely physical sense.

Thus, he only notices her when he realizes that there's something blue and glowing ahead of him, and being a bit silly and a bit naive and a bit foolish, he decides to investigate.

Fortunately, I doubt that Corine would harm him.

His calming, soothing aura that makes him so popular with the frightened and upset children at the hospital is largely on the spiritual plane. So I would imagine that a ghost would sense it even more than a child would, considering that children are very grounded in this plane.

He spots her and quickens his pace, curious and concerned and... wanting to help.

It comes with the genes.

The spectral female continued to gaze mournfully out to the twilight filled sky, the dying hues reflecting upon her semi-transparent form in an eerily beautiful way. She had been quite lucky up until this moment--no one had yet noticed that an extremley sorrowful ghost was lingering sadley at the edge where the city met the sea. There weren't many people around this evening [which seemed to grow more and more chilly with each passing moment] save for the few couples straying along the shore. This only caused Corine to spiral further into her bitter depression, reminding her of the one she should have been with at that moment. For the rest of her life ..

But, something caught her attention, and her dark gaze was torn almost abruptly from a man and woman that had just begun to kiss. A silver tear threatened to spill from her left eye as she watched the ivory haired man approach--his eyes upon her. As if .. he could see her. The curiosity that was held within his own gaze caused some of her own to spark; she wondered why he didn't suddenly realize what she was and turn to scream and run away. At least three people had 'seen' her retreat into the yellow light provided by the street lamps and had instantly changed direction to hurry away, fear very apparent upon them.

Corine remained where she was, one hand appearing to rest lightly upon the railing while the other moved half way to her lips. Her body seemed to flicker slightly, and she became more transparent, as if her paranormal form reflected her uncertain thoughts and decided to make itself more difficult to interpret .. camouflauge if you will.

When one has treated an incubus/angel hybrid with broken wings, spent an afternoon playing with a faery, and made another faery--or faery-like creature, anyway--regrow a cut-off antenna, a ghost isn't all that frightening. Alan was raised knowing about magic and spirits and things. He's not likely to run away screaming...

"Um. Hello. Are you all right?"

And then he mentally kicked himself, because she was a ghost and she was crying, of course she was all right. (That, by the way, was sarcasm. Just in case you couldn't tell.)

She had not been expecting him to speak. And certainly not as though she were a mortal woman standing at the railing alone. This caused her to become even more curious. Perhaps he was some sort of .. Paranormal Investigator? She almost laughed out loud; a Ghost Buster coming to see how she was feeling? Ha.

But the thought of him perhaps being some kind of priest or excorsist caused fear to rip through her. Maybe one of those people she'd stumbled across and accidentally frightened had called him to rid the world of her sorry ghost once and for all? Corine opened her mouth to speak, to tell him she would leave everyone alone, but all that escaped her was a mournful sort of cry or moan.

This frusterated her, and she pulled herself back from him.

The idea of Alan inspiring fear of any kind causes me to indulge in shameless convulsions of laughter. I hope I don't get kicked out of the library... Sorry, Corine. I'm not really laughing at you.

"Miss...? Are you all right? Can I... help you?"

He really does want to help. It's very obvious, especially around the eyes. How could anyone with those eyes ever harm anyone? (And how do you harm someone who is dead, anyway?)

Corine still couldn't get over the fact that he was speaking her to as if she was still made out of flesh and bone. Perhaps this man was drunk. She shifted her transparentish self uncomfortably .. twirling the rose between two fingers as she looked him over. Those eyes of his were full of concern, and she couldn't deny that. His hair was ivory, and his overall appearance quite alabaster, pale .. and almost angellic. A soft 'sigh' of -- approval was it? -- escaped her and she found herself appearing more solid.

Since she hadn't really mastered communication with mortals yet [and she'd practiced alone] the ghost shook her lovely head back and forth slightly to show that she was in fact, not okay. And that he probably could not help her. Corine's dark gaze continued to rest on him, her head inclining ever so slightly in silent question as she surveyed him.

No, he's not drunk. He's just very silly and likes to help people entirely too much. It gets him in trouble sometimes.

He looked somewhat hurt by her refusal--or so he took it--to speak, and held out one slender hand invitingly.

"Do you... I mean, what's your name?"

... she's very pretty...

And that's an observation he isn't quite sure what to do with, yet.

Corine was again nearly shocked by the hurt expression upon his smooth face. She had done something to upset him? Perhaps he was now afraid?! She stepped back again, appearing equally hurt.

But when he spoke to her again and held out his hand, she felt a returning promise to the situation. There was something about him .. a sort of .. aura -- for a lack of a better word -- that caused her to feel .. safer. The ghost allowed her own translucent hand drift elegantly to his own -- very slowly, however -- before she moved a bit closer to him and examined it.

For now, she ignored her words and gazed intently at his hand as if she'd never seen one before. Her dark eyes blinked and she brushed back a lock of pale glowing hair as she leant a bit closer to him. What would happen if she were to touch his hand? Briefly she was reminded of a childhood video .. Casper The Friendly Ghost. A faint smile appeared upon her lips .. and she actually seemed to become more solid. Light from a nearby streetlamp reflected her slim body with an almost .. sort of .. lustor.

And then she tried to answer him, even knowing she couldn't. Raising herself fully, she gazed at him, taking in his appealing features and memorizing them. It was a moment before she attempted mouthing to him the basic shapes of 'Cor-in'. After this was done, she continued gazing at him meaningfully, almost sadley. If he could understand her, much, much more would be in store for them both.

I suppose it's a good thing for the communication issue that Alan's used to small children who barely mouth what they want to say, because they're tired or shy or what have you.

"Corine?" He smiled. "That's a pretty name. I'm Alan."

He almost never introduces himself as Dr. Gardinier, even at the hospital. Indeed, he encourages the children under his care to call him by his first name, no matter how scandalized it makes their parents. Sometimes he lets them use 'Dr. Alan' because that's 'more respectful.'

His hand reached out further and attempted to take hers in his.

As I'm not sure what will happen then, I shall leave this post where it is.

Her body flickered to a more solid appearance as he spoke her name. She absolutely beamed at him. A soft hum of happy laughter seemed to escape her pale self, and she moved a tad closer, watching as he moved his hand to hers again.

And again, she lowered her torso a bit so that she was slightly bent at the waist. She was interested to know how it would feel for him to touch a ghost, and for her to touch a human. Wouldn't she just pass through him? Or .. possess him or something? She withdrew slightly. Corine did not want to hurt Alan. His name was Alan, and she knew that. Smile again.

But she did want to try .. So, she stood up straight again, looked him in the eye, and slowly tried to take his hand. Her pale, translucent one almost passed through his, but she concentrated as hard as she could on keeping .. less shifty .. And her feminine hand remained fairly solid in his slender one. Corine looked up at him and smiled again, sort of proud of herself.

Alan smiled and clasped her hand and put his other hand in his pocket because he didn't quite know what to do with it. (He likes her smile. A lot.)

"Can't you talk, Miss Corine...?"

He'd like to be able to have a real conversation with her, but if she's stuck with mouthing her words instead of actually speaking them, then he can't really do that.

He's still not going to go away, though. She could use the company.

... so could he.

The ghost shook her head sadley as he asked if she could speak. Well, not really .. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps she'd be able to find another ghost .. Maybe they'd teach her. Corine chuckled sadley, inwardly.

Her gaze drifted to the ghost of a rose she held in her other had as she watched Alan put his other in his pocket. A wave of sorrow rolled over her and she nearly became faint again, but she willed herself not to. It was funny .. She'd never been able to do that before. Being such a young ghost, she had alot to figure out. And it wasn't great.

She looked up again and seemed to sigh. She mouthed 'I'm sorry'. Corine really, really wished she could speak to him.

.. And she really needed company too.

Alan nodded slightly.

"Okay then."

Well, that also means that he can't ask her prying questions about how she died and what happened and why she's... You know. The sorts of things that he's dying to know--pardon the phrasing--but can't ask. (Also, it would be rude.)

"I guess I'll just stay here."

Pause.

"That is, if you don't mind."

Corine nodded her head. Well, there wasn't much to do now .. Just standing there holding hands with a person. Heh.

She got an idea, though. Perhaps, she could write for him? Something like .. a mute person would do if they did not know sign language. A new smile lit her features and she looked wildly around for a second. What could she use? Her eyes came to rest upon the beach. The sand, maybe?

Moving towards the beach, she let her hand remain in his, happy that people that had been on the beach had seemed to move away from them. More of that strange, almost liquid laughter escaped her as she tried to tug him with her, her body shifting through the railing.

.. Then she realized he probably couldn't do that .. So then she moved forwards again and let her other hand rest on his shoulder with the rose as she glanced to an opening in the railing where he could enter. Corine was much more solid, her facial features and such having more definition.

Alan smiled, which had the nice effect of widening his face so that it wasn't quite so elongated and horsey, and attempted to tap her nose.

"I can't go through things," he admitted, "But I can go over them."

Which he did, vaulting over the railing with apparent ease. It's nice to keep oneself in athletic trim, don't you agree?

Okay, so he stumbled and fell in the sand after he made it over, but the actual vaulting was graceful and easy!

More of the airy laughter filled the air as he tapped her nose and jumped over the railing. A quiet gasp of a sort of 'Ohh!' sound escaped her pale lips as she watched him stumble, but it was closely followed by more of the light laughter.

She moved after him, sort of gliding, actually. Her ethreal frame moved over the sand easily and she searched the ground for a nice patch of smooth sand. Finally finding one near to the water, but close enough for the light of the streetlights to allow for him to read, she crouched to the ground with a single silvery finger hovering over the sand.

Corine waited for him to ask her a question, smiling encouragingly.

It took a moment for Alan to realize what she was about to do. Then he grinned and settled himself in the sand next to her and thought about what to ask her first...

A long moment.

Then he shook his head at himself and shrugged a little.

"I'm stuck. I can't remember any of the questions I wanted to ask."

Actually he can. But he doesn't want to upset her, not when she seems so ready to be happier now.

Corine lowered her gaze when he said he couldn't remember anything. There must be something he'd want to ask a ghost ..

She began to draw small, elegant swirls in the sand, now and then looking up to him to see if perhaps he'd thought of anything yet.

Most of the questions are rather intrusive, and not something you'd want to ask on a first meeting. Especially when... well, never mind that.

He drew a spiral or two in the sand himself before perking up.

"Isn't there anything you'd like to ask me?"

Corine nodded her head. She gently swept her hand over the sand to smooth it out again before writing the single word in simple print,

'Wife?'

She looked back up to him, her expression unreadable.

It took him a moment to grasp what she meant.

"Good heavens, no! I'm not married." He held up a slender hand (on which the middle and ring fingers were almost the same length). "See? No ring."

It's funny to imagine Alan married to anyone.

Corine smiled and nodded her head. Smoothing over the sand, she wrote another word.

'Girlfriend?'

And below it, as a joke,

'Boyfriend?'

She grinned up at him.

He laughed and shook his head.

"Neither."

Pause.

"Although if I had one, I'm pretty sure it would be the girlfriend."

More of the airy laughter sounded when he spoke again. Then she wrote,

'Ask me questions.'

And looked up at him again.

"Um..."

Pause.

No, he can't ask her that, it would be rude and probably upset her. How many ghosts of young ladies do you think would like to talk about how they died?

"How old are... were you?"

Corine smiled thankfully to him. She sort of .. wanted to tell him about herself. And it was awful that she hadn't learned to speak properly yet, or to become more 'solid'. Actually, she didn't even know if she could even do that or not.

Sweeping her hand lightly over the sand once again, she lowered her finger and wrote quite a bit more than she had so far.

'I was, and am, twenty-two.'

The ghost even used proper punctuation -- and she even spelt out 'twenty-two'. She may be dead, but she still remembers how to write, and her age.

Alan blinks.

So young to be dead and wandering about as a ghost. (Although granted, he has seen too many children die for his peace of mind.)

"Oh... then... it was recent?"

How terrible.

And now he's trying to think if he's read of anything like this in the newspaper or some such.

Corine nodded sadley, tracing the word 'Yes.' gentley in the sand with her finger. In fact, it hadn't been more than a few weeks ago, she was sure. The face of the terrible creature that did this to her flashed vividly in her mind and she looked away from Alan for a moment as if frightened he may see as well.

Alan's first reaction was to try to give her a hug.

As I have no idea how well that would work, I think I shall leave it as 'try'.

His second was to murmur, "Oh dear..."

At least he didn't say 'I'm so sorry'?

Well, she still is pretty solid .. So, the hug worked. Cause, she's moving sand with her finger, so .. She's gotta be somewhat solid. So, his attempt worked.

She sighed quietly when she felt his warm arms around her. It felt so strange .. Corine couldn't explain it for the life of her.

.. Er ..

After a few minutes, she swept the sand away again and wrote, 'I wish I could speak.' If she could speak, she'd tell him what had happened to her.

She feels rather chilly. This would bother him more if he weren't perfectly aware that it is a perfectly natural temperature for a ghost and that she is a ghost.

"Why can't you?"

Surely it can't be that hard...

Corine swept the sand smooth once again to answer his question.

'I don't know how to.'

Her dark eyes were kept lowered on the sand.

"It's different for you? I would think that if you can write and be tangible enough to hug..."

Alan's confused. Don't blame the boy; he's never been a ghost, after all.

Corine sighed and nodded her head, now making eye contact. She did, after all, hate when people avoided her eyes. Both while living and dead. The ghost tried to make a sound.

'...'

She tried again, moving her lips as if speaking.

'...'

Then a very, very, very faint hint of rose tinged her silver cheeks in a ghostly blush. Corine folded her arms and stared off at the ocean, obviously frustrated with herself. Again.

Alan frowned.

"Huh."

Makes the things you take for granted seem not so for granted, doesn't it.

"Well, all right then. I guess we'll just keep doing things this way."

Corine heaved a sigh and nodded her head again. Sweeping her hand over the sand, she wrote, 'Did you see anything on the news?'

She was, of course, referring to her obituary, or perhaps a found body.

Alan drew swirls in the sand again, trying to think whether he had or not, and shook his head.

"Sorry, no. 'Course, I'm usually too busy to watch the news."

Doctoring is a demanding job. Especially when there's a certain mage who has a habit of surprising one and yanking one away from what one is doing to do something for him.

Yes, Alexander, I'm looking at you.

The pretty ghost smiled thankfully anyways, nodding her head. Then she lay herself down on her stomach and watched Alan trace spirals. After a few more minutes of this, she lowered her own hand to the sand and wrote,

'I'm really glad you aren't afraid of me.'

Then she looked up at him.

Alan shrugged.

"I don't see why I should be. I haven't murdered anybody; there's no reason for a ghost to come after me with vengeance on her mind."

Also, he's thoroughly innish.