Parsley was not a ghost. Everyone said she was, but she stoutly denied it. So when the orc at table 5 screamed ‘GET ME SOMEONE WHO ISN’T DEAD!’ Parsley shouted right back. With perhaps a few too many equally offensive slurs thrown in. Yeah, now that the moment had passed, she realized she probably shouldn’t have said at least one or two of those things.

Perhaps it was stupid, perhaps it was brave, perhaps she’d just had enough. But if she had to take one more bit of guff from the moron, she’d have lost her mind.

Or maybe she did lose her mind already, sometime in the past, around the time she definitely didn’t die and instead gained the ability to phase through solid objects. Because she was an amazing wizard, not because she was dead!

“Miss Parsley, table five wants to know if you can guarantee that the Steak Supreme has not been exposed to any vegetable or fungi?”

“NO! I cannot! The Steak Supreme is cooked in vegetables, and served with mushrooms on top. It is in the description. There is a picture!”

The living person - who was certainly no more living than Parsley herself - wilted a bit, and she forced herself to take a brief calming breath. “Ask if he’d like it with extra mushrooms, instead of the elf-lettuce.”

“But, we don’t serve elf-lettuce steak--”

Parsley grinned. “Exactly.”

When the customer later had a near-fatal allergic reaction to the fungi, Parsley had her excuses lined up so thoroughly that, if she hadn’t been seen having a violently aggressive altercation with the fellow a few minutes earlier, she might even have gotten away with it.

But ‘attempted murder’ was a much more fireable offence than ‘screaming’ so that’s how she found herself, once again, jobless on the street.

“I don’t know why everyone is so sensitive,” Parsley huffed as she floated along the nearly-abandoned street. “One little carefully-orchestrated accident and that's it…”

Then she reached the end of the road and hovered uncertainly. Any further and she’d be in their territory. The aberrations. They’d claimed a small section on the outskirts of town and begun buying up the places at ridiculous prices - how such a tiny group of such strange creatures had accumulated so much wealth Parsley would never know.

But she needed work. Needed money herself to fund her experiments. Aberrations may be freaky as a failed potion, but they paid well.

She drifted sideways unconsciously, embedding all but her face into the nearest wall so she could peer out from relative safety. Walls felt so warm and cozy, like being wrapped in a blanket. Not like floors. They had a spikiness to them, too much pressure, too heavy. Floors wanted you to move. Walls, they were content for you to linger. Ceilings… ceilings had their own personalities. Some would suck you in, so desperate for company, and it would be hard to pull yourself away. Some were very serious about their job of keeping things out, and would bounce you off almost as well as another person.

Parsley floated upwards a bit, just to test out this ceiling, since she was in the vicinity. It wasn’t aggressive, wasn’t welcoming, just bland and uncaring. Like it was asleep. She gave it a comforting pat, then took a deep breath and started forward into the aberration territory.

Time to meet the earthers.