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Allegro Rasputin - Pirate to Priest.
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Chapter One: Being a Ghost and How To Cope With It

Allegro Rasputin was experimenting. He had a new body, one made of a transparent, un-malleable ectoplasmic substance, and it was taking a while to get used to- a long while. For one thing, he had no ‘personal gravity’. Ghosts, naturally, float above the ground- the exact height is usually determined by their own ‘surety’ of their existence. For example, LeChuck, who was completely self-assure and knew for certain he existed, floated a full two metres above whatever surface his foot would normally be resting on, had he had any made of flesh and bone and other organic matter. Allegro, on the other hand, was so convinced he shouldn’t exist that he was only an inch or so above the ground- despite this, it was something he was finding hard to cope with.

He had been one of the four Ghosts from the Weeping Iguana that LeChuck had granted undead life, and unlike the three others he was finding it impossibly difficult to become used to having an insubstantial body. Right now he was trying to learn, with the assistance of Bob, how to move himself down so that he would appear to be resting upon the floor. Although this was not necessary, it was still a useful thing for a Ghost to learn- it helped them feel slightly human again, and this inspired self-surety. Allegro could manage to position himself so that he was only a millionth of a centimetre above the surface of LeChuck’s ship, but he hadn’t learnt to move with the ship- a useful skill any pirate should have. So, whenever it rode the crest of a wave, or tipped slightly to the left or the right, the ship would move but Allegro would stand still. Bob, who had learnt to move with his environment only a few hours after he had been made a member of the undead race, found it slightly disconcerting to see the ship rise up while Allegro floated there, the timbers pushing through his body, a mournful expression pasted to his face.

“I’m not doing this very well, am I?” moaned Allegro. He had a Russian accent, which Bob had never heard before, and thus LeChuck’s first mate could actually stand the incessant whining of the rookie.
“Well, no…” muttered Bob, shaking his head slightly and gripping it as he did so, in order that it not fall off. Initially, when his head had fallen off and Bob hadn’t been concentrating, it would often fall right through the surface of the ship and into the ocean. It took concentration, even for a Skeleton-Ghost like himself, to keep his body, well, together. Even Allegro had mastered that- it was built in, really, but Bob had seen it happen.

A Ghost who concentrated on too many things at once would often find himself kind of… disappearing. Fading away slightly. Sometimes becoming completely invisible, completely un-attuned to his or her surroundings. That was why stupid pirates made the better Ghosts- they could only concentrate on one or two things at a time, and thus didn’t suffer the risk of losing their existence.
“I’ll try this time.” Allegro squinted his face up and concentrated, pushing himself down a few micrometres in order to become closer to the deck. It suddenly pitched under him, a plate rolled off a table with a squealing crash, and Allegro moved with the floor, his face becoming a luminous, queasy green as he did so.

“Excellent!” exclaimed Bob, and patted the Russian on the back. Another thing, a lucky thing, was that Ghosts could touch other Ghosts and even the ‘ghosts’ of objects. Otherwise, everything would become extremely tedious extremely quickly, if Ghosts could only interact with their own bodies. Well, things wouldn’t be that tedious, but certain… ‘pleasures’… are not as appealing after death. Allegro sighed and floated over to the table, where he bent and down and began desperately trying to scoop up the shattered remnants of the plate. His fingers passed through both the china material and also the wood, gripping at nothing. Allegro looked up imploringly at Bob, who gave a sigh- even though he never breathed.

“I’m sorry… only truly powerful Ghosts can interact with solid objects… like Captain LeChuck.” It was true as well. LeChuck’s physical strength in life had been so strong that, after he had achieved an undead existence, the Forces That Be had granted him tremendous Voodoo powers. This was how it often worked with Ghosts- once they died, they no longer had any ‘real’ bodily power and were thus granted Voodoo depending on how strong they had been, to even things up. Bob had been fairly average of strength, so he had achieved fairly average Voodoo powers- like most Ghosts. Presumably Allegro was the same. “Neither you or I will ever be able to really touch things.”

Allegro nodded sadly and glanced down at the plate. Never able to touch anything… the thought made his non-existent fingers itch. They made him want to curl his non-existent fist into a non-existent ball and punch LeChuck across the world with one single swipe. In a non-existent way of course. He… why had LeChuck returned him? Why not one of the others? He had never been looking forward to death (of course not!) but that split second between where a Ghost’s glowing blade had punctured his chest and extinguished his soul had been somehow blissful. He knew he was going somewhere better. He even had dim memories of a great darkness, with a shining light at one end and… an even darker darkness at the other. The light had pulled him irresistibly, and his arms were reaching up towards it… when he had been jerked from this bliss and found his consciousness expanding once again, this time in a rather special way.

Bob moved over and stood beside him, noting with some dismay that Allegro had floated towards the broken plate, not walked. Most Ghosts walked straight away, and eventually stopped placing their feet several centimetres below the surface they were moving on, but Allegro had seemed to decide legs were not necessary and he would float everywhere. While this was perfectly fine and adequate, when his body was that close to the ground it was slightly disconcerting- imagine somebody, feet flat on the floor, moving around perfectly smoothly. He would have to ask the Ghost later whether he wanted to walk or float- and if it was the latter, it had better be above the bloody ground.
“Look, Allegro,” Bob said, trying for all the world to make his voice sound understanding and caring. It wasn’t easy. After all, he was used to it sounding meek and frightened, as he was often in the same vicinity of LeChuck and usually the one the Captain would take out his rage upon. “Look, I know how you feel about the Captain, but you can’t go around being resentful all the time.”

Allegro shook his head morosely and kept his gaze downcast. He was dead now, but still living. His very existence made no sense! How could he not feel resentful towards LeChuck, towards fate, towards life itself? He voiced his opinions, and Bob gave him a slightly understanding smile.

“Look,” said the Skeleton-Ghost, “I used to feel the same, before LeChuck returned me… but I decided to make the best of my un-life, to get on with things, and now I’m second-in-charge. I’ll admit it,” here he dropped his voice, “LeChuck is an incompetent, vicious fool, but he’s still the Captain, and he still deserves respect.” Nodding unhappily, Allegro turned himself a hundred and eighty degrees and headed off towards the cabins where the crew of LeChuck’s ship had once slept- before they had been brutally murdered and brought back to life as undead, Voodoo-empowered ghosts. He didn’t need to sleep -no ghosts did- but he needed somewhere quiet, to sit and think by himself about his present predicament.

Bob watched him go then shook his head sadly, giving a yelp of surprise as it flew from his neck and bounced from the deck with a thud- luckily he had been concentrating.
I hope he gets used to it, was Bob’s thought as he grabbed his cranium and made his way above decks. ‘Cause I’m getting sick of the guy already.


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