April 29th, 1891 — Muggle London
Obviously, Ford had jumped at this assignment when it had popped up. He didn't think it was likely that there was any actual spirit activity involved (in at least half his field cases, there wasn't), but the whole scenario was just so interesting. Ford went to Muggle spiritualist performances in his free time, after all (or he had, back when he'd had free time — he wasn't particularly expecting it to happen again until the social season wound down that fall), so the prospect of getting paid to attend one was one he couldn't have passed up, even if it turned out to be a waste of the Spirit Division's time. Besides, the Ministry was buying his ticket, which meant this was even better than when he went on his own time. He didn't even have to feel guilty about spending his pocket change on something that he enjoyed, rather than funneling it back into the family's general fund for new dresses and Grace's Coming Out ball and the girls' spending money and whatever else.
He'd bought his ticket and filtered into the room with a handful of Muggles forming the rest of the audience around him. There were still several minutes before the performance was set to start, and everyone around him was chatting. Some talked about the decor, some talked about their reasons for coming today and what they hoped this psychic would be able to tell them. One woman chattered loudly about her desire to talk to her daughter, who had left for America several years ago and may or may not have died since then.
Ford listened with polite interest, but then realized with a start that he wasn't the only one listening in. There was a ghost in the room — a real, actual ghost, not just a Muggle dressed up to look like one. None of the Muggles had noticed him or reacted, and Ford tried his best not to seem as though he'd noticed anything so that he didn't tip any of them off that something was underway. This case had just gotten far more interesting, however. Subtly, Ford slipped a notebook from his pocket and made a small note. He tried to keep an eye on the ghost without actually looking straight at him. He was hopeful that if he slipped out to the lobby Ford could follow him and ask what he was doing, but he didn't get the chance — when the ghost did float out, he went straight through a wall. Ford might have still tried to figure out how to follow him, but before he could work out which direction to go, the lights dimmed. The show, it seemed, was about to begin.
He'd bought his ticket and filtered into the room with a handful of Muggles forming the rest of the audience around him. There were still several minutes before the performance was set to start, and everyone around him was chatting. Some talked about the decor, some talked about their reasons for coming today and what they hoped this psychic would be able to tell them. One woman chattered loudly about her desire to talk to her daughter, who had left for America several years ago and may or may not have died since then.
Ford listened with polite interest, but then realized with a start that he wasn't the only one listening in. There was a ghost in the room — a real, actual ghost, not just a Muggle dressed up to look like one. None of the Muggles had noticed him or reacted, and Ford tried his best not to seem as though he'd noticed anything so that he didn't tip any of them off that something was underway. This case had just gotten far more interesting, however. Subtly, Ford slipped a notebook from his pocket and made a small note. He tried to keep an eye on the ghost without actually looking straight at him. He was hopeful that if he slipped out to the lobby Ford could follow him and ask what he was doing, but he didn't get the chance — when the ghost did float out, he went straight through a wall. Ford might have still tried to figure out how to follow him, but before he could work out which direction to go, the lights dimmed. The show, it seemed, was about to begin.
Tycho Dodonus Roberto Devine
Set by Lady!