[ Phantoms weren't something that Ragna typically dealt with on the regular, as attuned as he was with the concept of souls and spirits by now. Unfortunately? They're still rooted deeply to him, to the point where his heart was palpitating as he scrunches his eyes shut just so he can avoid looking at them. Like a rare, childish notion that if he can't see them, they can't see him. He's already got it imprinted in his head that they're ghosts...and there weren't very many that he didn't just soldier on through despite himself. It's always that initial impact— the heat, the ringing in his ears as the pain exceeds the shock his body attempts to throw himself into, the wooziness, the blood loss, that son of a bitch's voice cackling all the while and making him feel even more powerless than he already was... It's funny on the surface, and for all intents and purposes, he masks the truth well behind his girly screams or flinching whimpers.
But then he hears another voice. One he just met. One he knew. One that stuck around with him as she tells the Teasing Trio to leave him alone. And Ragna bites down a whimper. He doesn't cry; he's not even close to that. But he cracks his green eye open first, Weiss practically shielding him by standing between him and the painting. And the visual is sobering for an entirely different reason. And his eyes open with a tremor behind her. The last time someone stood between him and a ghost, they...
...!
Come on, Ragna. Come on. Get out of your own head. Get out of your own thoughts. Snap back to reality?! He'd already been skeeved out from his prior investigations here, this shouldn't be so shocking to him. That was all then. This is now. Why should he be scared of some phantom painting? So, despite himself, keeping behind Weiss as he does, Ragna does bark back up. ]
Yeah, ha HA ha! Real funny, assholes! What the hell do you want??
[ "Show us something cute! We'll let you go after you entertain us a bit, okay? Please? Look, look! He's sooo scared! Doesn't he deserve a kiss and a hug?" ]
Shut up! I-I'm not scared—
[ Another little voice crack. ]
[ "Come now, we're not asking for much~ Please? We just want to have a little fun... Unless...you want to be stuck in here... Foooreeeever~" ]
Check it. Better plan? How about, you piss off and let us off already, you damn voyeurs.
[ He lets out a frustrated little growl, after the initial outburst had been burned away into the ether. He remembers to take a deep breath again. Slow. Try to calm himself. Around the time that Weiss turns around to ask him if he's okay, he almost looks...ashamed? A frown mars his lips as he closes his eyes, one more breath in through his nose, and out his mouth. Weiss had stepped in to stick up for him. She didn't need to do that, even if it was just some playful spirits in a painting.
There he was, wanting to do better than this resort ever could in helping someone and sticking it to them, and now he's the one hiding behind her. So when he opens his eyes again, trying to keep his attention on her, there's still a hint of embarrassment in his voice. They're just in the painting. They're not monsters. There's no fire. There's no pain. There's no haunting voices whispering in his ear. ]
Yeah. [ A beat. ] Yeah. I'm fine. Great.
[ Shit, he can hear himself. That wasn't "Great". ]
Sorry. I... I overreacted.
[ Getting mad at the painting was his coping mechanism, it seems like. And chances were he'd still feel a shiver trickle down his spine if they decided to pipe up. Instead, at least for the time being, they keep to themselves, little whispers in each others' ears and distanced giggles as they wait and see if they need to give the two of them some more coercion or not. ]
So. [ Back to trying some sense of normalcy as if he hadn't just had a freakout earlier. If nothing else, he bounces back quick. ] Guessing this is another trick up this place's sleeve.
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But then he hears another voice. One he just met. One he knew. One that stuck around with him as she tells the Teasing Trio to leave him alone. And Ragna bites down a whimper. He doesn't cry; he's not even close to that. But he cracks his green eye open first, Weiss practically shielding him by standing between him and the painting. And the visual is sobering for an entirely different reason. And his eyes open with a tremor behind her. The last time someone stood between him and a ghost, they...
...!
Come on, Ragna. Come on. Get out of your own head. Get out of your own thoughts. Snap back to reality?! He'd already been skeeved out from his prior investigations here, this shouldn't be so shocking to him. That was all then. This is now. Why should he be scared of some phantom painting? So, despite himself, keeping behind Weiss as he does, Ragna does bark back up. ]
Yeah, ha HA ha! Real funny, assholes! What the hell do you want??
[ "Show us something cute! We'll let you go after you entertain us a bit, okay? Please? Look, look! He's sooo scared! Doesn't he deserve a kiss and a hug?" ]
Shut up! I-I'm not scared—
[ Another little voice crack. ]
[ "Come now, we're not asking for much~ Please? We just want to have a little fun... Unless...you want to be stuck in here... Foooreeeever~" ]
Check it. Better plan? How about, you piss off and let us off already, you damn voyeurs.
[ He lets out a frustrated little growl, after the initial outburst had been burned away into the ether. He remembers to take a deep breath again. Slow. Try to calm himself. Around the time that Weiss turns around to ask him if he's okay, he almost looks...ashamed? A frown mars his lips as he closes his eyes, one more breath in through his nose, and out his mouth. Weiss had stepped in to stick up for him. She didn't need to do that, even if it was just some playful spirits in a painting.
There he was, wanting to do better than this resort ever could in helping someone and sticking it to them, and now he's the one hiding behind her. So when he opens his eyes again, trying to keep his attention on her, there's still a hint of embarrassment in his voice. They're just in the painting. They're not monsters. There's no fire. There's no pain. There's no haunting voices whispering in his ear. ]
Yeah. [ A beat. ] Yeah. I'm fine. Great.
[ Shit, he can hear himself. That wasn't "Great". ]
Sorry. I... I overreacted.
[ Getting mad at the painting was his coping mechanism, it seems like. And chances were he'd still feel a shiver trickle down his spine if they decided to pipe up. Instead, at least for the time being, they keep to themselves, little whispers in each others' ears and distanced giggles as they wait and see if they need to give the two of them some more coercion or not. ]
So. [ Back to trying some sense of normalcy as if he hadn't just had a freakout earlier. If nothing else, he bounces back quick. ] Guessing this is another trick up this place's sleeve.