Every redemption arc -Glatt and Ghostbur-

chapter one

(THIS STORY IS SET BEFORE RANBOO JOINED THE SMP, BUT I MAY TAKE SOME OF THE LORE FROM THAT TIME PERIOD AND AFTER IT AS WE LEARN MORE, TO MAKE THE NARRATION AND PLOT FLOW SMOOTHLY. This whole chapter is a mess but I promise in the future I'll try harder to get my shit together.)

Ghsotbur's pov

I've learned a few things about being dead, in this relatively short time I've had the misfortune of being here.

1. My body temperature is ice cold, though I can't exactly feel the cold myself.

2. I can't touch people.

3. I can, however, touch objects if I try hard enough. (Which lets me aid in re-building L'manberg.)

4. I am only able to remember things that happened when I was alive that are happy memories.

5. It gets really lonely not being able to touch people.

6. I can turn invisible whenever I want to, but when I'm invisible I'm not able to touch things.

7. I can't exactly fly, but I can kind of float around.

8. My memory is slowly getting worse, I think.

9. I hurt people when I was alive.

10. I blew up this entire town.

11. I'm sorry.

12. I'm scared.

Everyone seems hesitant around me, no matter how many times I promise, and reassure, that I'm the same Wilbur I always have been. (I think.)

I'm starting to guess that may be exactly what they're afraid of.

I don't remember doing anything that they told me I did. Is everybody lying to me? Or is it true? Am I the bad guy?

-Ghostbur

It's another long day of nothing but tedious building, and being ignored. I step (float?) backwards a few paces to admire my newest addition to L'manberg. The floating lanterns are swaying in the wind, but still suspended in mid-air where I placed them. Letting my eyes drift downwards, I take in the marketplace, with my piano off to the side. The main podium-like area is just above that. A few houses are strewn on stilts around the square.

Sometimes I envy the beautiful manors my friends (they are my friends, right?) have built, but I wouldn't trade my small space in the wall of the town sewer for anything. Secluded places make me feel safe, and reading books helps me understand what happened here. I can't shake the feeling that something about the documents I found describing the war are wrong, somehow.

I get pulled from my thoughts by a small gust of wind, and I shiver, fumbling with the sleeves of my sweater so that my hands are fully encased in them. I don't think I'll ever be able to get used to the feeling of wind. It washes through my hair, as it would any normal person, but it also partially passes through my body. The cold wedges its way through my ribs, and cradles my lungs. I can feel it bubbling just under my skin. If I could experience my senses properly, I would describe it as a fiery, heated sensation. Ironic, seeing as I would normally be quite chilly in that type of weather.

I turn around, and start the familiar walk towards the empty beach across from Party Island. It's peaceful there, if not incredibly empty. Phil told me that a guy named 'Dream' cleared the area out a while ago. I figure if I floated towards the beach I would get there faster, but walking to places gives me a tranquil, almost nostalgic feel.