Black Dawn - A Supernatural RPG.

Who: Jude
When: Early evening
Where: Streets of New York/His apartment
What: A side-effect of seeing ghosts

Jude awoke to the sensation of being roughly jabbed in the shoulder as a gruff voice slurred, “Hey! You! That’s my bench! Hey! Get up!” He opened his bleary eyes, confusion marring his sleepy features, and found himself staring at the unshaven, grime-coated face of a homeless man. Startled, he sat up abruptly, his back pressing firm against the hard, wood back of the bench. He was in Central Park. In the middle of the night. And he was in his pajamas. How did he…? Dark realization settled in his stomach like a block of ice.

Possession. The word made his heart take a sickening flip-flop. It was as if in being able to see and talk to ghosts that Jude’s perception of the Other world had been blasted so wide open that anything could slither its way into his mind. Ghosts did just that. Those with unfinished business or maybe even those who just had a longing for the corporeal life took over his body and made it their own. He’d wake-up later with no memory of what happened. Sometimes he woke at home. Other times…it was places like these; park benches and street corners, alley ways and seedy motels. There had been one morning he woke still chasing the heroin high a junkie spirit in need of a fix had gone after. Thinking of what his body could be doing without his knowledge or consent made him feel ill. What had happened this time? What did he do? He went cold again and his stomach rolled nauseatingly.

The vagrant violently poked him in the shoulder, pulling him from his unhappy thoughts. “My bench!” the drunk shouted, stabbing him again with a dirty forefinger.

“Alright, alright, I’m moving.” Jude stood and the cold ground bit at his bare feet. Hugging his bare arms to his t-shirt clad chest, he took a few more steps forward. His gaze briefly rose up to the night sky. He could indistinctly see grey clouds could float across the inky black sky. Troubled shadows flickered behind his green eyes and a worried frown turned down his lips. Behind him he was vaguely aware of the grumbling homeless man climb up onto the bench. His thoughts were elsewhere; the possibilities of what he had been forced to, how his life so rarely seemed in his control, how all this living on the outskirts of everything wasn’t really living… He was as much a ghost as the real things were. With a sigh, he turned away from the dark heavens and started what would be a long walk home.

It was still early in the evening and the streets were far from empty. The city that never sleeps was at the height of its nighttime bustling. Jude walked without hurry, keeping his gaze ahead and trying to ignore the strange looks people gave him as he passed. A few more blocks and he’d be home…