The sign read ‘Occult Museum of Haunted Artifacts’
Was there a better way to spend a winter afternoon? No, at least not in Akarma’s eyes. The week had been dull, the spirit activity that usually bustled around her day after day had withered away the day before in an unusual way. For once she felt alone, unbothered by the drain of their presence, but at the same time she felt so lonely. So naturally she felt drawn to seek them out, when they were around she always wished they would just leave her be, but when they were gone she felt so empty and isolated.
The moment she opened the door the sent of dusty books and old clothing wafted to her nose. It had the typical museum smell but an atypical vibe that struck her so hard it made her head spin. She could already feel them, they seemed to sense her presence like birds sense the morning. She could feel their stubbornness as they clung bitterly to the items that hid behind glass cases. Some of them were angry, dangerous and others felt simply lost.
As she entered Akarma felt the stirring and the instant suckling of her energy. She felt fatigue creep into her skull as she headed down a shadowed hallway towards a room she assumed would hold seventeenth century clothing and books. Spirits raged all around her behind their class prison cells, but she was drawn forward despite the snarling in her brain. That’s when she spotted it. A pale silk dress lay in a crumpled pile on the floor, the dust along the edge of its case appeared to have been lightly dusted and the glass door hung open. It beckoned to her, bagging her for her energy, and as if in a daze Akarma obliged, touching the edge of the fabric….
Was there a better way to spend a winter afternoon? No, at least not in Akarma’s eyes. The week had been dull, the spirit activity that usually bustled around her day after day had withered away the day before in an unusual way. For once she felt alone, unbothered by the drain of their presence, but at the same time she felt so lonely. So naturally she felt drawn to seek them out, when they were around she always wished they would just leave her be, but when they were gone she felt so empty and isolated.
The moment she opened the door the sent of dusty books and old clothing wafted to her nose. It had the typical museum smell but an atypical vibe that struck her so hard it made her head spin. She could already feel them, they seemed to sense her presence like birds sense the morning. She could feel their stubbornness as they clung bitterly to the items that hid behind glass cases. Some of them were angry, dangerous and others felt simply lost.
As she entered Akarma felt the stirring and the instant suckling of her energy. She felt fatigue creep into her skull as she headed down a shadowed hallway towards a room she assumed would hold seventeenth century clothing and books. Spirits raged all around her behind their class prison cells, but she was drawn forward despite the snarling in her brain. That’s when she spotted it. A pale silk dress lay in a crumpled pile on the floor, the dust along the edge of its case appeared to have been lightly dusted and the glass door hung open. It beckoned to her, bagging her for her energy, and as if in a daze Akarma obliged, touching the edge of the fabric….
By me
Akarma
Gender:
Female
Personality:
Akarma is a small bundle of energies, yes I said energies. Akarma is very sensitive to vibes and energies around her, she picks up on the attitudes and moods of others and they affect her own person. She possesses a very strong intuition and a spiritual side that would cause some to doubt her sanity at the best of times. Akarma’s claims she can feel pressences that most others don’t, Im talking the paranormal sorts. Although she claims this she does not openly flaunt what she considers to be both a curse and a blessing. In her words “They share their secrets with me because I will listen, its not my job to listen for everyone else”.
Akarma is a very complete individual, she does not feel the need for companionship since she hardly ever feels alone and finds that the living are far less interesting then the dead. She is not the friendliest but she is spontaneous and bubbling with energy. Akarma is very carefree and open hearted; she fears little and is always up for adventure. However, Akarma is plagued by unwanted presences, a ghost magnent of sorts. No matter where she goes or what she does they always seem to come to find her and be near her, and her abuillity to feel them there makes it so that she always feels like someone is standing there watching her this makes her extremely paranoid and anxious, she is always jumpy and on edge this makes her seem odd to those who don’t know her well.
Quirks:
➤Spirits are drawn to Akarma for some reason, they come to her and feed off of her energy (apparitions require energy to be seen, so they draw it from her whenever they are near to her). Spirits use her as a window to our world, whatever causes them to be drawn to her also makes it so that they are more capable of being seen and heard by those of the living.
➤Have you every tried to sleep while someone was watching you? How about knowing that the dead huddle by your bedside table begging you for your warmth and energies? This is what Akarma feels every time she tries to sleep and this has caused her to developed acute insomnia, you can often find her awake at night, pacing her room or huddled next to the window.
Future Occupation:
After Akarma accepts that there is no escaping those trapped on our world she will begin to embrace her ‘gift’. She will hear about a museum that specializes in the housing and preservation of haunted items. Upon visiting the museum she witnesses a wedding dress dancing along a hallway with no one in it. Akarma speaks with the curator of the museum and discovers that the Night watchman recently was frightened so bad that he quit leaving a position open. So naturally this adventurous little girl jumps at the chance to spend so much time with those of the dead. Akarma spends her nights (since she doesn’t sleep) keeping company with some of the most frightening and vengeful spirits or the realm. But she has managed to come to understand some of them and known how to keep herself out of dangers wake. She researches the items of which the spirits posses and helps track down other items that might fall into the wrong hands.
Relationships:
Akemi~ Akemi is honestly oen of the few individuals in Akarma's like that picks up on the emotional drain she experiences. Akemi knows just how to make her feel better and Akemi becomes Akarma's shoulder to lean on and she always brings her problems to Akemi. The only thing that bothers Akarma occasionally is that Akemi is always trying to 'fix' her, even though she isn't actually broken. Akarma loves the attentiveness of her mother and how much effort she puts into making Akarma's life better.
^By dandyLIONscare^
Akira~ Akarma Loves Akira with all her heart, she looks up to Akira because of her level headed and steady personality really gives Akarma something to hold onto, her anchor so to speak. She loves talking to her sister about the thinks she sees but she doesn't tell her everything since she fears her sister might feel jealous of it. She hopes to join the spook club with her sister the moment she gets the chance.
Kurotasu ~ He is her breath of fresh air, being with him and listening to him makes her forget everything going on around her. it is with him that she finds that she is rarely bothered by the apparitions. she can actually be herself and finds that his playful personality really rubs off on her when they are together. She likes that he isn't disciplined and not always trying to fix her.
The heartbeat her paw touched the fabric she felt the spirit latch onto her, drawing as much energy as it dared. A moment later the dress appeared to take shape. It rose form the flood and floated before her like an unseen bride, it dipped as though to curtsy and shuffled away. Akarma trembled. Her body ached from exhaustion, there were so many of them demanding for her energy that she felt the effects begin to take over.
Through her haze of exhaustion she spotted the dress swaying just down the hallway a little ways. It seemed to dip and bob in such a way that she imagined a bride dancing the waltz with her groom. Akarma wished she knew her story; she wanted to know why this spirit had woven itself into the threads of the silk gown. But the spirit didn’t want to share it. Instead it swayed back down the hallway to her and as though taking her by the hand and waste began to dance once more.
Akarma felt her body move without her own intentions. Her skin turned to ice around her wrist and waste as the spirit eased her into the steps of the waltz. At first Akarma was frightened, but then she began to laugh, joyous laughter in a tone that didn’t sound like her own, but it felt good.
The longer they danced the more drain Akarma felt till her strength would not hold a moment longer. Her lids drifted closed and for a moment she thought she felt lips on her forehead. Then she collapsed to the floor, exhaustion had finally taken her, by the take she had woken the dress had returned to its display. The curator of the Museum crouched over her waving the weeks newspaper in front of her face. But she didn’t regret it for a moment; the museum was now her favourite place.
