ghost_holder | Three hits on the 6 is the number that you dial

Is it opportunistic to do this? Maybe. Probably. She hadn't actually expected Olive and Eduardo to take her seriously when she'd offered to house sit for them. She also hadn't expected them to be willing to pay as much as they've promised her either. Given the atmosphere of the Purge, the opportunistic whispers, she supposes they might see it as an investment. Even with her powers acting up, she knows she can put on a hell of a scare.

It's strange though that while many of her friends have been feeling their powers dim, Aggie's have never felt stronger. This isn't necessarily a good thing. Every time Aggie startles, lights dim and then surge back on; electrical devices go on the fritz; things break. Her own physical body always feels too small for her these days. It's not like a growth spurt in her bones and muscles but in her soul and there's no growing to accommodate that.

She's not in danger of being unable to defend the Saverin house. If anything, the greater danger is in being unable to limit how much damage she does to a person if they try anything stupid.

For the first hour though, most of the activity seems to concentrate in the city and Aggie just sits on the Saverins' porch eating some of their leftovers (they'd said she could). For a minute, the zombie makeup seems to feel like overkill until she hears something rustle at the end of the driveway. Then she's on her feet, eyes glowing fiercely.

"This isn't the place you want to try," she warns.

[[Be a friend or a burglar. Aggie will deal with them accordingly.]]

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Yona doesn't need to question the tacit invitation, nor does she see any reason to turn it down. There's food, and the girl guarding the house, whatever she might be capable of, seems friendly enough. She's not really one to think twice about anything like that, anyway, aside from having never seen it before. There's plenty that fits that description here, and no reason to make too much of it now.

"Lots of trouble," she says, taking a seat and reaching for one of the dinosaur nuggets, then promptly biting its head off. "I bet a lot of people will come out this way."

And that, it seems, is that. As long as the other girl has trouble, Aggie has no problem sharing her bounty. In solidarity, she bites the wing of a pterodactyl. "I'm Agatha, by the way." Up close, something about the other girl makes the hair on the back of Aggie's neck stand up. Not unpleasant but definitely significant.

"It's a rich area and haves and have nots are definitely clashing tonight."

"I'm Yona," she replies, offering Aggie a warm, friendly smile. "It's nice to meet you." In spite of the somewhat dire circumstances, she means it, too; she always does, is always happy to meet someone new. After spending an entire lifetime around the same few people, day in and day out, there's something refreshing about the sheer number of strangers in Darrow.

She grows a little more thoughtful quickly, though, humming absently in understanding. "I know a little what that's like," she says. "I saw it back home."

Of course, then, she'd been firmly on the side of the have nots. Now, she thinks people shouldn't have to have their property at risk because of some strange, unsettling event.

The funny thing is, Aggie believes that. Something about Yona doesn't quite strike her as guileless but the fact that she's straightforward in her oddness is oddly comforting.

"Where did you come from?" she asks. "If you want to talk about it."

Taking another nugget, Aggie peers out into the street, quiet as she listens. Is it just her imagination or is the noise getting louder, the violence coming closer?

"The place I came from didn't have money, not really. They just believed in getting rid of evil. Whatever they thought that meant."

"I lived on a train," Yona says, as easily as if she were naming a country or a state or a city block. She's nearly always gotten the same response when she's told people here about it, that they think it's unfathomable, but to her, it was simply life, the only one she ever knew. When she thinks about it, that still, to her, seems more normal than anything in Darrow was, maybe because no one ever really told her what life was like on Earth before it froze.

"We didn't have money, either. Just the front sectioners and the tail sectioners. And some people in the middle."

Halfway towards bringing another dinosaur nugget to her mouth, she goes still, her eyes widening for a moment. "There are people coming here."

"A train? Like a stopped one?" She frowns because the way Yona talks about it makes that seem far from the case and she follows it up with a quiet, "Wow."

Yona stops and Aggie stops, casting her power subtly out. Or as subtly as she can these days. Unsteady volts of power travel outward from her, dancing along circular paths around the house. It's not as tidily as she likes to do things but so much has been happening, so many strange flickers in power, that she's just pleased hers seem to be functioning.

"Back yard," she says, standing carefully up.

"A moving one," Yona answers as she gets to her feet in turn, the same wary expression on her face all the while. There's something surprisingly nice about saying something like that to a person she hardly knows and not being questioned. The people she spends a lot of time with have, she thinks, long since gotten used to it, but that doesn't mean she hasn't met her fair share of skepticism. "It never stopped. The train."

Glancing around, she adds, "Come on. Through the house?"

"You stay here," Aggie says, picking up a baseball bat that she's hidden by the door. "I can go through." Truthfully, she has doubts about how organized any of these people can be, given how much emphasis has been put on the anarchy of the experience but she also knows better than to be stupid.

"I'll be right back."

"Okay," Yona says, an agreement that comes easily. It's clear enough that Aggie knows how to handle herself, and she's done her part, given a warning when she's seen something coming. With everything going on tonight, it seems like the least she can do. "I'll be right here."

She leans over to grab another dinosaur nugget and bite into it, for good measure.

Aggie nods and closes her eyes for a second, letting her power roll through her and unlocking all of the floodgates she's been desperately keeping in place. Its effect is immediate, surrounding Aggie with ghostly energies that crackle and fizz and make her more than any human cage can hold. Its just on the edge of too much and Aggie walks through the door. Doesn't open it. Just walks through the wood and lets her power flicker in the windows.

A minute later, there's a shout of pure, pants-wetting terror and a minute after that, Agatha steps through the front door, opening and closing it this time. She's not quite back to normal and lightning flickers through the veins beneath her skin and behind her eyes. It's an eerie version of the girl.

"He's gone."

Eerie or not, it's with fascination more than anything else that Yona looks at Aggie when she comes back, and a little bit of awe. Whatever she can do, this is something else entirely, and she almost wishes she could make herself look like that, with light under her skin and in her eyes. She can see how it could be frightening — why it might run someone off — but it's beautiful, too, in a way. At least, she thinks so.

"Good," she says, smiling. "You must have really scared him off."

Aggie's gotten used to reading people's expressions when she uses her power and the absence of fear in Yona's expression makes Aggie's heart squeeze a little. It's a strange, pleasant feeling, even as she slowly takes some yoga breaths and lets the power settle.

"I'm not usually this...much," she admits.

Three hits on the 6 is the number that you dial

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