New York really was a glorious city. It was huge and there were people everywhere, of all sorts of colors and shapes. None were as fabulous as Juka himself, of course, but, in his limited time there, he did see a few that came close. While he'd only been in the city a few days, he was settling in quite nicely. It had been wonderful to see Jewel again and the Mansion she was staying at had been more than a little impressive, not that he would ever admit as much. And Tetsuyo had been perfectly adorable in a cute little shy boy kind of way. But he would work on that shyness. The poor boy really did need to learn to loosen up a bit and have a bit of fun. There was still the problem of laundry and cleaning of course, and the necessity of it, somehow being done, but he was working on that. Hopefully by the end of the week he would find someone willing to do it for him, in exchange for some time spent in his radiant presence. Someone was always willing to do things for him, he just had to find them.

Tonight was going to be a special night though. Since coming to the city he hadn't had a chance to really get to see it, in the way that it was meant to be seen: from above. It took over an hour for Juka to get ready for his trip to the skies, as always his hair and makeup had to be perfect. For once he wore pants rather than his usual skirts, more practical while flying. If anyone had bothered to ask him why he was spending so much time on his appearance, he would have scoffed. It really should have been self evident anyway. What if he met someone? Surely he wasn't the only mutant that could fly? And even if he didn't, for his only personal sense of well being he had to be perfect. It was essential that he look the best that he could, now and always.

Finally ready to depart, Juka opened the glass doors to the balcony and stood there, concentrating. His reflective bubble appeared in an instant and he bobbed up off of the ground. He didn't bother to lock the door as he departed, after all who would bother with a suite more than 20 floors up anyway, and with a thought lifted off of the ground and into the sky.

How does one explain what its like to fly? Juka certainly couldn't other than to say that there was such a profound sense of freedom about it. On the ground he had to constantly worry about other people, what they thought of him and how they reacted to him. There was a pressure, self imposed or not, to be perfect, to be the constant center of attention, not that he didn't deserve to be of course. But up here it was only himself and the clouds and everything else was far below him. No one could touch him up here. Lazily he mentally commanded his bubble forward, enjoying the view of the city far below him, and all the lights and people. It was dark enough that they shouldn't be able to spot him, high and small as he was.

Another day at the book store had turned into another late where Ghost was going home after nearly falling asleep on her desk. It was tempting to stay there, even though her glass desk was uncomfortable, she just felt safer at the bookstore. The windows were plate glass and only she (and a select few she trusted) had the code to the security system. The only mutants who could phase to her knowledge were good guys. That made her store safe.

Oh sure, the Mansion was safe enough by her estimation, but sometimes when it was dark and she was alone... it was silly. She was a grownup now and she still jumped at shadows. Especially after her encounter with the strange traveler. Who had strangled her, eviscerated her, stabbed her, punched her... yeah. She just wasn't in the mood to get jumped and die.

So she took to the sky. Higher than she even usually flew so that she would not even sense the building tops. She didn't even want to see one single person. Just get home. She could get home all in once piece right? To take her mind off of such morbid and, frankly, scary thoughts, Ghost started humming a classic Whinny the Pooh song.

Not too far from the book store, Ghost ran into a curious 'sight.' In her vision, it appeared to be... well, it appeared to be a very large sphere.

Since Ghost wasn't trying to impress anyone, she had become like the song: a drifting rain cloud or a trailing roil of smoke. Even when she approached the sphere she didn't bother to form up into her human shape. She couldn't see inside and so and had no way to realize that anyone was home inside the thing.

The shape was perfectly round, but wasn't perfectly solid. It intrigued her. As a great master cat once taught Ghost, some things are just worth poking and so that is exactly what she did. Ghost used her power to push at the round barrier and found that it was squishy! She giggled and poked at it with her power again.

As Juka drifted lazily within the night sky he found himself daydreaming, as he often did when inside the protective barrier of his bubble. Mostly he imagined himself on stage singing, glorious and beautiful and worshiped by hordes of adoring fans, his band behind him almost (but not quite because he wouldn't want them to outshine him) as glorious and beautiful as himself. He was brought out of his reverie quite abruptly when something (or someone?) poked his bubble.

Juka blinked confusedly and looked around, trying to find the source of the rude action. He didn't see anyone, not that he had expected to so far above the city, but something had certainly poked his bubble. And what kind of rude intrusion on his thoughts was that, anyway? Poking his bubble? Imagine, the nerve of some people! He put his hands on his hips and shook his head disapprovingly. "Whoever you are, show yourself and stop poking my bubble!" He still couldn't believe it.

And then he noticed giggles and a sort of smoky form of figure near him. Was that the source of the undignified intrusion? He moved his bubble closer, suddenly curious. He tried to move his bubble into the smoky substance just to see if he could. And then it occurred to him, if this substance could hum and poke things, then perhaps it had some sort of physical form that he could touch. Moving his bubble a few feet away from the smoke he sent out a tendril and tried to bubble the smoke with one of his mini bubbles. "That'll teach you, trying to poke my bubble," he stated, self importantly.

((OOC: if Juka does not have an accent... I'll have to edit majorly. All words inbeteeen >carrots like this< are spoken in Japanese.))

"Whoever you are, show yourself and stop poking my bubble!"

Normally, a talking sphere would have shocked her, nay, perhaps even frightened her. But the combination of a familiar accent and the subtle assumption that this was somehow mutation related had soothed her. Spheres did not just randomly appear in the sky. And the properties of this one were unlike any weather balloon she'd ever encountered. In fact, it was unlike anything else she had ever encountered.

The accent screamed I-am-Japanese. No matter the speech therapists or the English coherency, there was always something to suggest a specifically Japanese upbringing. Maybe it was the inflection or the hesitantly soft R's. The voice wasn't Shin's. Too... ethereal. Besides, if it were Shin up here, the barrier would be stiff and geometric, not fluid and organic.

The bubble moved closer and that buffeted her back some. Why could she not enter? She saw that the bubble was slightly permeable. Fresh air was entering, she assumed. Why could she not see inside? And then... something really strange happened! The sphere moved back a pace and then grew an arm! And poked her back!

"That'll teach you, trying to poke my bubble,"

"Hey! That tickles!" It didn't of course. She didn't feel much of anything while incorporeal, but she was feeling slightly... mischievous. Somehow the act of poking had made her feel like being a bit devilish. Ghost pushed harder on the bubble to see if she could steer it or perhaps pop it. Was that rude? She should probably stop.

>Are you Japanese?< Ghost remained as her smoky, cloudy self. If she couldn't see him, it wasn't entirely fair to reveal herself. Though by her voice and giggles it would at least be apparent that Ghost was indeed a she. Despite her boyish figure and hair, she could hardly be mistaken as a he. Her voice and eyes and mannerisms were just too feminine. Not that he could tell that when she was a puff of smoke, though.

Juka did a mental jump back when the smoke spoke again. Or rather, it wasn't so much a jump since one couldn't really jump while floating in the sky, but more of an abrupt surprised move backwards a few feet. "Well good!" he replied smugly. "You poke my bubble and I tickle you. Its only fair." Feeling a little mischievous and having very little concept that he should be careful of strange floating smoke mutants (it seemed to be a safe assumption that the talking smoke was a mutant), he extended another tendril and poked it again, giggling happily. Oh how fun this was!

>Are you Japanese?<

Juka grinned happily that he had been recognized for his heratige, although he had no idea that the smoke couldn't actually see him at all. ">Why yes I am.<" He curtsied deeply towards the smoke (where was its head anyway? And for that matter how did it see?) and did an acrobatic somersault in the air. It was his, after all, his first time meeting another floating mutant and he had to make sure he impressed her.

Serious again, an far too curious for his own good, he moved his bubble closer to the smoke again, trying to get a better look. Slowly he rotated around it, observing from all angles. "How do see?" he asked. "How do you speak? Can you walk as well as float? Can you turn back into a person? Are you even a person?" The questions kept coming, as fast as he could think of them, not giving her any chance to actually answer any of them. Finally he took a breath and grinned.

"You poke my bubble and I tickle you. Its only fair." It would have been more fair if she had actually been tickled. The fact that she had successfully tricked him only fed her desire to be devious. The sphere replied that it was indeed from Japan. No surprise there. The Japanese had made stranger things than talking spheres, but the organic-ness of this one meant it was more likely a mutant. Ghost would still tell Shin about this adventure. It wasn't every day that one met another Japanese mutant. There seriously had to be something in the water over there.

Before Ghost could formulate a question list of her own, the sphere was asking her questions.

"How do you see? How do you speak? Can you walk as well as float? Can you turn back into a person? Are you even a person?"

On a whim, she decided to do something she hadn't done since Christmas. Lie.

"I used to be a person..." The smokey form slowly rolled and formed up into the shape of a long legged girl. "Before I was killed." She tried to sound creepy about dying and really, she had some near death experiences recently that had scared the jeepers out of her.

"I can't see you, Mister Bubble. Maybe it was you who killed me..." She tilted a mostly see through face as she contemplated the idea. It was all she could do to keep from resuming her giggle.

Juka gasped dramatically as the smoke voice replied to him that she had been killed, not even considering for a moment that it was far more likely that his original conclusion that this was a mutant was true and that the smoke might not be completely honest. "That's horrible!" he stated emphatically. "Who would do such a thing to you? And what's it like to be a ghost anyway?" Because, obviously, if she had died then she must be a ghost, right?

And then the ghost suggested that Juka might have been the one to kill her and he gasped once again, horrified at the very thought. Could he have done such a thing? Was there something that he didn't remember, someone that he had hurt and killed? But he hadn't even been in a fight before, let alone killed someone. Well, there was that one fight but he certainly hadn't gotten his own hands dirty defending himself (why would he risk breaking a nail when he had plenty of admirers more than willing to defend his honor?).

Now that Juka had finally worked that detail out, he shook his head in disagreement at the ghost. "I'm sorry your dead, I really am, but I don't think it was me. I hope you find out who did it though." Another pause for thought. "I can help if you want me to." He went to hug her but then realized two things. First, he was trapped in his floating bubble which tended to make things like hugging rather difficult and second, how did one hug a smokey ghost anyway? Maybe he should pat her shoulder with a tendril instead? But where was her shoulder anyway? Finally he decided that there was nothing more he could do.

"That's horrible!" and that made her feel a little guilty. It was horrible. She was just thinking of too many morbid things recently.

"Who would do such a thing to you? And what's it like to be a ghost anyway?"

"He was scary... and had a knife." Ghost rubbed her hand over her stomach and now that she appeared as a girl floating thoughtlessly above the skyscrapers, Juka's bubble could no longer encompass her. The traveler had more than a knife that had been dangerous. "And being a Ghost isn't that bad. You don't feel anything... which is sometimes bad." When he took chunks out of her incorporeal stomach, that had been a very bad thing. She'd been bleeding, nay, dying and she hadn't even noticed.

The sphere's gasp of horror made her feel a little better. Maybe she had pretended to be dead because she needed to talk to someone about it... it had been some weeks and she till couldn't fully look Aurum in the eye. He had been helpless to save her and it was her fault for getting in that situation in the first place.

"I know it isn't you now that I think of it. He wasn't a sphere able to float above NY's skyline. He also wasn't Japanese." She tried to comfort the now slightly panicked Juka. "And don't worry. I didn't stay dead. My name is Ghost. Please take care of me." The lithe and see-through form took an aerial bow. "Are you really a sphere or is there a person inside there?" Ghost took a poke at the bubble with her power in front of her hand so that it would actually appear as if her insubstantial hand were making the indention in the barrier. Once she was solid, she would be very interested to see the interior of this malleable round thing.

For once Juka simply stood quietly listening to the ghost talk. He wished that he could wrap is arms around her and give her a comforting hug, not sure what else he could do to make her feel better. But at present time he wasn't even able to do that much. "I'm so sorry to hear that," he said, instead, sounding almost as if he shared her pain.

"I'm glad you didn't stay dead," Juka said, his voice muted and sorrowful. "Whoever did that to you, I'm sure that he will suffer for it later. Karma will come against him and he will pay." His voice was unusually serious and intense. "And I will do everything in my power to take care of you." He bowed deeply inside his bubble.

With the transformation of the smoke into a person, Juka instantly went from serious and sad back to his usual excitable self, letting out and excited clap at her appearance. "You are positively beautiful, my dear. How could I not want to take care of such a gem?"

"And there is indeed a person in my bubble," Juka stated self-importantly. "You are certainly welcome to join me back at my apartment and I will deign to show you my glorious self as well as take as much care of you as you need." He grinned and started moving his bubble slowly back towards his apartment. "But...um...if I'm going to take care of you could you do something for me? Its not too much," he assured her quickly, "just, um, maybe some laundry and house cleaning?" His voice took on a note of pleading.

Ghost sighed. If she believed in karma she might be more comforted by Juka's comments. The most comforting thing he offered was to help take care of her as per the traditional Japanese greeting. Any and all implications beyond that were entirely lost on her. Her cheeks warmed slightly at his compliments, but that was about it.

She was glad he confirmed that there was a person inside his "bubble." Ghost tried to love every manner of person, but it was hard to get her head around befriending a bubble. What would it be like to walk down the street arm in arm with a bubble that had arms? Was it that she'd be embarrassed to walk along side a bubble because it was odd and clearly not human? Or was it because it was very obviously mutant? She hoped it was neither.

It was Juka's unexpectedly vulnerable question that brought Ghost out of her pondering. "Laundry and house cleaning? Do you not know how to take care of a home?" Ghost scratched at her white hair. Who didn't know how to do laundry? She followed after the bubble man without a second thought about whether he might be a psycho like the last one she followed and tried to help. She really wasn't very bright when it came to trusting people. They were all just so trustworthy sounding!

"Well, I can certainly show you how at the very least, but I won't do it all for you. I'll do it with you." Any double entendre were lost on Ghost. It had been a very long day at the bookstore and now she was offering to help someone do laundry? "And for helping you out so graciously," She imitated his magnanimous tone, "You will buy me a coke."

As Juka slowly floated towards his apartment he started humming happily. His voice was excellent and perfectly on tune. He was happy, both that he was going to have someone to help him do laundry (that really was a huge relief) and that he was going to have a pretty ghosty girl over.

It didn't' take long for Juka to make his way back to his apartment, careful to remain slow enough for Ghost to keep up with him. Gracefully he landed his bubble upon his balcony and a moment later it disappeared and his feet touched the balcony. He beckoned Ghost in with an elaborate wave of his hand.

"You are an absolute saint, my dear, and I would be happy to offer to buy you a coke in exchange for your profound kindness." Helping with his house chores wasn't, of course, but at least he had someone there to help and that was better than nothing. And besides, she needed him just as much as he needed her which was a new feeling for him.

The window of his appointment was open, just has he had left it, and he entered with a graceful step, going to the kitchen. "I may just have a cook in the fridge for you, my dear," he said opening it. Then his face dropped. There was no coke. There really wasn't much of anything actually. He hadn't gone shopping since he had come to the city a few days earlier and had been eating out since then. "Um...my profound apologies, darling, but I appear to be out of just about everything."

"A saint? I don't know about that." Ghost observed the building as they approached. It seemed quite nice. In fact, the part of town it was in was very nice, not too far from her bookstore really. "You don't live very far away from my bookstore." In fact, that is probably why she ran into him. If he had gone out for a late night stroll in the sky and she had as well...

Juka was patient and led the way all the way to his balcony at a reasonable pace. When his bubble popped, Ghost eagerly pressed the air around him feeling at his features so that she could know who she was talking to. He was wearing unusual clothes, she could tell that much. And he was slim, slender in a way that some Asians complained of being effeminate. Ghost let off on the air pressure quickly so that it would not bother her new found friend.

He danced over to the fridge and Ghost made her way into the land of solid while he searched the fridge for her coke. She could use the caffeine. Darn Aurum was getting her hooked on the stuff. If she was going to be lugging laundry around, she'd need her hands. What was once see through and smokey condensed and became a milky, pale Ghost. Since she came from work, she was wearing some flat-front grey slacks and a nice deep aquamarine button up shirt complete with dove grey tie and charcoal grey vest. Being the owner of her store, she couldn't let Shin out dress her all the time.

By the time Juka was back and apologizing for lack of Coke-a-cola, Ghost was rolling up her sleeves. "Alright, you, let's get down to business." She looked around the apartment this time with her eyes taking in the state of things before settling on Looking over her bubble friend. It was always strange to see someone for the first time in color and full detail. And Juka was definitely worth looking at with all the effort he put into his appearance.

"You have a bookstore?" Juka asked. "Why that's positively wonderful. I love books." It came out dramatically and probably a little more strongly than it actually was in truth. It was more accurate to say that he loved manga, but surely any self respecting bookstore would also sell his favorite mangas?

"You are absolutely beautiful," Juka states, as Ghost became solid. "And what business would that be?" he asked, copying Ghost by rolling up his sleeves also. He was starting to become a little worried about what exactly this woudl entail. Why hadn't his father given him just a little bit more money so that he could afford servants? Or at least, just one servant. He didn't need need any more than that, surely, since his apartment really wasn't all that large.

"There really does need to be a power to deal with all this cleaning stuff," Juka stated sadly as he looked around. He hadn't been there long enough for things to start becoming too messy, but there was a bit of dust starting to accumulate and his laundry basket was full. There were a few dishes but his tendency to eat out minimized that and his garbage was needing to be taken out.

"You really are an angel," Juka told Ghost adoringly. "So sweet and kind to come all this way and help me out." He approached her, intending to hug her if she would allow him to do so.

"You have a bookstore? Why that's positively wonderful. I love books."

"It's hard not to love something so unassuming. You can leave your world behind for another, drop it at a moment's notice and it'll still be there, just where you left off. Which is more than I can say about most things in life." Ghost smiled and deemed the apartment livable. Not clean, but it wasn't festering as she had worried it might.

"You are absolutely beautiful,"
"You're not doing half bad yourself, though I think you're wearing more make up than me." Ghost started with the general pick up. "The business of being clean and having a working household, that's what business." She rooted around for a trash bag and handed it to Juka before making her way around the room for the loose trash bits. After she got him started there, Ghost went to get the dishes. Again, it was minimal work. "Are you sure you live here? It's almost like you're pretending to live here. That or you are very freshly moved in."

"There really does need to be a power to deal with all this cleaning stuff,"

"Now that," she flicked a wad of bubbles at the bubble man as she washed the last of the dishes off, "Would be cheating." The dusting was next and speaking of cheating, a breeze picked up and rustled through the apartment. now that there was no risk of tossing trash out the window, the dust could evict itself for all she cared. Ghost tried very hard not to pick up any of the dirty clothes, but one thing did fly up off the top of the pile.

A pair of boxers, or were they briefs?, caught themselves against Ghost's shoulder, pinned there by the sudden wind. They wiggled and screamed for her attention.

"You really are an angel, so sweet and kind to come all this way and help me out."

Ghost turned, pulling the undies off herself and handing them to Juka with minimal blush-age. "Thank me after you've learned to do laundry. You do have laundry detergent, right?"

"It's hard not to love something so unassuming. You can leave your world behind for another, drop it at a moment's notice and it'll still be there, just where you left off. Which is more than I can say about most things in life."

"That's what my music is like for me," Juka said, his voice taking on a note of slight melancholy. He hadn't had a chance to do any performing since coming to the city and he knew that simply must change. Soon. As soon as he was properly settled and learned how to do this whole cleaning thing.

"You're not doing half bad yourself, though I think you're wearing more make up than me."

Juka giggled. "Darling, that's because I have to put in effort to be this beautiful while for you it comes naturally." He smiled, trying to charm her. Juka obediently started walking around the room collecting up random bits of trash. This really wasn't so bad after all, he decided after he had finished his given task. "I've only been in the city a few days now. I just moved here from Tokyo." He missed his city. He may not have grown up there and despite certain difficulties it still felt like home.

"Cheating? How can you cheat at cleaning?" Juka asked confusedly. He really didn't understand. Was cleaning a sport or something? Some sort of grand competition in which the winner was the one with the most spotless house? He blinked in her direction and then giggled as bubbles were flicked at him, all thoughts of house cleaning competitions lost from mind.

"Laundry detergent?" he asked a note of hope in his voice. He went and searched in one of his cupboards and then came back with an exuberant "yay!" laundry detergent in hand. He presented it to Ghost, grinning broadly as if he had found a grand prize. Maybe that's what one won when they were victor in the house cleaning competition?