[Iris' face was as pale as it had ever been as she made her way through the streets. Hood pulled securely over her head to keep her protected. Terrified as she was, she knew she couldn't sit back and do nothing. Not when--rare as it was for her to be able to admit--she knew she had the power to do something. Or, rather, the protection.]
[The ghosts couldn't touch her. And, ironically, her own lack of spiritual abilities saved her from any psychic influence they might have had. Which mean that her mind was clear and her eyes, slightly glazed from sickness but otherwise focused, could zoom straight in on the young woman holding he head in pain.]
What is it? What's wrong?
[She approached with care, not wanting to frighten an unfamiliar face with her sudden presence, but desperate to help in any way she could.]
no subject
[The ghosts couldn't touch her. And, ironically, her own lack of spiritual abilities saved her from any psychic influence they might have had. Which mean that her mind was clear and her eyes, slightly glazed from sickness but otherwise focused, could zoom straight in on the young woman holding he head in pain.]
What is it? What's wrong?
[She approached with care, not wanting to frighten an unfamiliar face with her sudden presence, but desperate to help in any way she could.]